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People frequently crap on lawyers (often for good reason) so here& #39;s my story--one I& #39;ve never shared before:
I was in my first couple years of practice and had taken on a pro bono civil rights case. I was super nervous but excited to do it. I had a big hearing coming up.
I was in my first couple years of practice and had taken on a pro bono civil rights case. I was super nervous but excited to do it. I had a big hearing coming up.
I had filed a 60-page brief, including hundreds of pages of exhibits prior to this hearing; the argument over this particular motion was expected to take a whole afternoon because it was so fact-intensive and substantive.
I was *terrified* in the weeks leading up to this because this was going to be my first big hearing in my career. It was in federal court. And I very much did not want to be the reason this poor client of mine didn& #39;t get justice for a thing that happened to him.
I prepared for *weeks* leading up to this, including drafting a 4-page outline of my arguments with tons of quotes and citations to the record and case law I knew I would be asked about by this federal judge.
The afternoon of the hearing I walked into the courtroom, honestly feeling like I could faint from nerves. I said hello to the State& #39;s attorney and then sat down at my table to wait for the judge to enter. Then I reached down into my bag to pull out my outline.
To my absolute *horror* when I looked in the bag I saw that it was completely empty. Not a scrap of paper. No pen. Nothing. I had placed everything I thought I would need on a desk intending to then put it in my bag just before leaving for court and I completely forgot to do it.
I didn& #39;t even have a phone on me. I mistakenly thought we couldn& #39;t have those in the courtroom (we could). In my panic, and without thinking, I turned to the State& #39;s attorney sitting over at the other table and whispered "my bag is empty. I forgot my notes."
My face must have been completely white. I literally started shaking. I can only imagine how pathetic I must have looked.
Well this State attorney, whom I did not know well, immediately retrieved a copy of my brief from his bag, ran over to my table, handed me a notepad and pen, sat down, and started frantically dictating notes to me from my own brief.
I scribbled while he said stuff like "Ok, next heading is [this] . . . and I would write down this quote . . . oh this is a great argument for you. I would make a note of this, too." He was flipping through pages and highlighting stuff I had written. My handwriting was a mess.
Sorry for the comparison but it was honestly like that scene from Miss Congeniality where all the contestants realize Sandra Bullock doesn& #39;t know how to put on makeup so they all flock to her to help right before the Miss United States Pageant starts.
We did this for about 5 minutes, until I had a full page of hand-written notes that roughly summarized my briefing. The judge came in and the hearing began. We argued, all afternoon, as scheduled. As is usually the case, I hardly looked at the notes anyway.
I would have been fine without them. I had practiced the argument so much that it was all in my head. Nonetheless, I will *never* forget someone who was supposed to be my adversary sprinting to my table to help me in my panic when he absolutely didn& #39;t have to.
I won the hearing. (I ultimately lost the case, though, a couple of years later). I don& #39;t know what would have happened if that guy hadn& #39;t helped me. I think I would have been so anxious I would have been completely incoherent. Fortunately I& #39;ll never have to know.
In my experience, although there are some bad eggs, attorneys tend, by and large, to be more like that guy and less like the other kind.
