Here I am. In court again. 2:30 p.m. Lane County Circuit Court. Public defender is not here.
Last time he walked in late like the star of the show. Swashbuckling. Only man in the room seemingly unintimidated by the judge. His bumbling reset the pace of the courtroom.
New judge this time. Nice change from the previous. Courtroom atmosphere is noticeably lighter. Lawyers seem calmer. Last time it felt more like the New York Stock Exchange.
The defendants were the stock. The lawyers were the traders. The judge was God.
Many of the defendants are more akin to lost sheep rather than criminals. A few carry the stained look of a deeply downtrodden soul that surrendered long ago to the pull of crime.
Most though seemed the ilk of the unlucky and uneducated. A few sit hopefully. Others exercise their patience. All seemed resigned to some arbitrary fate. A fate they have no control over.
It is all part of some high stakes game yet few seem even mildly aware of what the stakes are and what is the purpose of the game.
Even when nobody is talking, silence is never achieved. The rustling of papers. Hushed whispers. The sound clothing makes when worn by fidgety people. The distant hum of temperature control.
The judge moves quickly through the business. A name is called. Somebody stands awkwardly and silently while an appointed lawyer stands and does the talking. A new name is called. Another person stands, not sure if they should step into the aisle, approach the bench or just stand where they are. Before most even make their decision a new name is called. The vast majority fall under some umbrella called a "settlement conference."
It all seems very efficient, but only the players seem to know what is going on. And it begs the question. Is the efficiency and pace of the room set so the people don't have time to think? So they can't get their bearings? Or is it simply a symptom of an overburdened system trying to keep pace with the overwhelming number of criminals?
No comments:
Post a Comment