Author: marshallsknowledge

Before going to the Santa Monica Branch Office, I was living in a lovely two bedroom apartment on Reese Drive in Beverly Hills and sharing the commute with three other DAs, Raul Esnard, Sterry Fagan and Dave Fitts. These were interesting guys. David Fitts was one of the brightest persons I have ever met; he was pretty wealthy, being in the Lincoln Savings and Loan Company, but you would never know it by his attitude and the tiny VW beetle we cramped into when it was his turn to drive. His ability to speak and argue a case in the most succinct manner was beyond compare. Highly educated and a Stanford Law graduate, he spoke with a slight lisp, but with charm. Jurors loved him and I am glad we did not tangle after I became a defender. Dave was selected to be on the three-man prosecutorial team in the case of Peele vs Sirhan Sirhan, the assassin of the Democratic nominee for the President of the United States at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles and was designated to make the complicated opening statement which outlines the prosecution’s case and also to make the closing argument to the jury relating the proven facts as applied to the law and demand (request) a guilty verdict and subsequent death penalty. David was later appointed to be a Judge of the LA Superior Court where he finished his career. When it was my turn to drive and the other riders were dispersed, I would invite Dave up to our apartment, open a bottle of scotch and Dave would regale Maxine and me with great stories of his earlier exploits, such as his bicycle trip through Europe and his experiences. We really liked and admired this guy. Sadly, Dave died in his early sixties and the world lost this most fascinating man and, I should mention, surfer, mostly at San Onofre a surf spot known as the Trestles.

I don’t mean to denigrate the other riders, but their exploits, though remarkable, well, Dave had an edge. I forgot to mention Dave was also a combat infantry sgt. in World War 2. Raul, a USC graduate, was also a very good trial lawyer and did a remarkable job, but was not at the right place at the right time which, like so many prosecutors, who go through a complete tour of the Office without having one of the major heavy cases assigned. That applies to most of the Deputies. If a major case is assigned and a good job is done, it helps with advancement because one then becomes a proven advocate and then is in line for added majors. I must say, I was pretty good, but so were those who never received any fame and many in my mind were as good or better than I. Raul did not have to worry and probably did not have to work as when you are driving westbound on Sunset boulevard nearing the end of Beverly Hills and about to enter the Westwood and Bel Air area, on your left was a mansion as large as, if not larger than, the other huge residences lining that famous street belonging to Raul’s in-laws whose wealth, I am told, was based on correspondence international schools. I was not a member of the social class and relatively ignorant of what rich people were doing. So the trio of riders would give me a hard time on occasion, such as they would wear white shirts that had a little alligator logo attached around the pocket area and claim it was a club logo, but I could not join. I had never heard of Andre LaCoste, the tennis player whose line of sports gear had the little alligator as its trademark. I felt bad, but thought, well, I just did not belong.

Sterry Fagan was a handsome devil and a very sharp prosecutor. Sterry and I knew each other from High School, Beverly Hills High. We did not associate or know each other except as Beverly students. By the time I entered Beverly in the 9th grade, I had attended seven different elementary schools, some of them twice, and I was no longer interested in school, classmates or anything else. Got into a lot of fights just to make myself known to the new classmates. My only contact with Sterry was we were both in the B Football team, what was known then as the left guard or running guard, which meant on most occasions, I would pull out and lead the interference either around the right or the left and Sterry, rightly so, was a running back. There was no platooning players and you would play offense and defense and generally for the full sixty minutes. You might ask, what kind of football team could a rich kids’ school produce, and you may be surprised that our varsity quarterback, Jimmy Powers, was the 1st string quarterback for USC, and I saw him throw passes that defeated my college, UCLA. Our fullback, Mickey Titus, played 1st string for Stanford until his leg was broken in the Army game. Johnny Roach played running back for UCLA and Bob Hansen played center, I believe, for Montana. Beverly, when I went there had champion tennis players and Herb Flam beat Pancho Gonzales in the Pacific South West Championship when Pablo was number one in the world. There were also future movie stars, directors and music writers and players going to Beverly such as Maria Tallchief,  America’s first Native American prima ballerina (look her up,) Andre Previn, concert pianist at that time who became one of the most renowned conductors and music creators for movies, and a classmate and high school friend, Richard Sherman and his older brother Robert, sons of a famous songwriter who, on their own, wrote the words and music for Mary Poppins. Also, famous casting director Lynne Stalmaster. You get the idea; we had an outstanding student body. Dan Bleiffer, the famous LA heart surgeon, Richard Shapiro, who became editor of the Havard Law review. We had champion swimmers, divers . In other words, it was  great school and a good education was offered if we wanted to apply ourselves, though I did not care for grades.  The alumni association is still alive and kicking, and I, after over 70 years, am still a member

A few things about Sterry I still recall from High school days are he was voted, together with Bill Chamberlain as the class best-looking. The name Chamberlain may cause you to remember Richard Chamberlain, Bill’s younger brother, a star in films such as Shogun and TV as young Doctor Kildare.  The Chamberlains lived about two blocks from me.

I remember Sterry would run around the track just before varsity football games showing off his running style. He was the CI champion in the 880 yard race. One significant episode I remember well: playing a pick up game of 6 on 6 touch football, on my side, we could not run as fast as  Sterry, so I was assigned to prevent him from going out for the pass by blocking him at the line of scrimmage which I did very forcefully, knocking him down. He didn’t like it, so he grabbed my shirt, cocked his right fist ready to let me have it. I grabbed his hand holding my shirt and it was a standoff.  Eventually he backed down, knowing from my expression I was ready to fight. I doubt if he had ever been in a fist fight and I surmise he thought it was not worth it, backed down and that was the end of it and the game. Do not recall seeing him after that at any pick up games.Well, that odd encounter was never brought up and I like to think we became good but not close friends. Sterry finished his career, like others, as a Superior Judge working alongside David in the Long Beach Courthouse.

Try to imagine Beverly Hills in the 40s. Today it is quite built up with stores, cafes, tall buildings and every inch of space is occupied. When I was growing up, it was mostly residential, the tallest building, four stories, was at the intersection of Wilshire Blvd. and Beverly Drive traveling North and South. South Beverly Drive was pretty much empty and there were vacant lots south of Wilshire. The famous shopping street, Rodeo Drive, was a bridal path, part of a riding trail connected to the bridal path that bisected the north and south lanes of Sunset Blvd. Beverly Hills was a small community and the residents really liked it.

Coming up next will be a sad story that I overcame.

Until then

Marsh

As mentioned  in an earlier writing, LA was huge and the DA’s Office covered a lot of area with Branch Offices scattered through LA county as mini DA’s offices known as branch offices composed of a Head DA and then a senior deputy and a three or four trial deputies. including area offices that could come under the control of the branch office. As an example, the Huntington Park office, together with some other area offices, would file their felonies in the area office and if there was enough to put the accused to trial, the case would go to the branch office for further proceedings, such as pleas, motions, trials and sentencing. This made sense as jurors within the Branch Office area would hear the case rather than picking juries from all over the county. Thus people living in Lancaster would not have to go to Pomona or Long Beach to serve

Well after a stint in the main courthouse downtown DA’s, I was in trial almost every day, as the rule was once the case being tried went to the jury for deliberation, the court would open up for the next trial. I finished one trial at 1:00 PM, and I would start picking a jury on the next case.

Well I got lucky and got a transfer to the Santa Monica Branch office which covered Santa Monica, West LA, Beverly Hills, Ocean Park and Malibu. It was a sweet and sought-after assignment. My immediate supervisor was Art Alarcon. Art had a fabulous career. He was a sharp and smart lawyer. As an example, in 1956 there was no 4th amendment bar to admit evidence obtained as a result of an illegal search and seizure until the California Supreme Court on a case where the police just went too far in ransacking and terrorizing the occupants of a residence and developed an evidentiary rule of suppression just as it was done in Federal Courts. People v Cahan was the case name. Art was given the task of developing a volume covering the law based on Federal cases throughout the US. which he did and the book was published, copies given to all deputies and also distributed to other counties’ DA’s Offices. His storied career rose to where Governor Pat Brown appointed Art as his clemency secretary ( I mentioned Art in my blog about Billy Wesley Monk’s commutation hearing earlier) and later Art was appointed as the governor’s Executive secretary, subsequently appointed to the LA municipal court and ended his career as an appeals judge on the 9th Circuit court of appeals, which is one step below the US Supreme Court. I told you earlier the deputy DAs I was lucky to work with when I first entered the Office were giants in the profession. They taught me as an example how they worked, how they took their obligation as prosecutors to be fair and act in a quasi-judicial manner.

The Santa Monica Office had the usual bunch of low-grade felonies with an ocassional major crime. I was now married, living on Reeves Drive in a nice four-unit type of residence in Beverly Hills, a short drive to the Santa Monica Office. My wife and life partner was now with child. When her time came to deliver, I had been in trial and it was closing up with the final argument left to present. I had inherited the case, an assault with a deadly weapon, when it was supposed to be tried by a colleague, Steve Crossman, but he got tied up with another case, so I took it. So when my wife Maxine was in labor and we are now at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica, I called the Court, explained the situation and gave my excuse to put the case over until after the birth of my first child. No such luck. Do you remember my comment earlier on tough judges? This one said you have to come and finish your argument and the Court would send Joe Chandler, another Deputy DA, to hold my wife’s hand. This was not going to work.  I wasn’t going to leave Max with a stranger, and I did not want to be found in contempt and do some custody time.  So, I got an idea, suggesting they get Steve Crossman to argue the case as he was familiar with the facts. That idea was sold. Steve argued and the jury convicted. So, who gets the credit for the win? I insisted it was I, and Steve demanded the credit. It was never resolved

One of the plumb assignments: A little court-house in Malibu. A pleasant ride along the coast to a small courthouse with a few cases to try, mostly  DUIs. Finish work, stroll on the Malibu Pier and  a nice ride back with mileage pay. DUIs in those days were not as easy to prosecute as today. The break-off blood alcohol was o.15 %  and there was no driving with a certain percent alchohol in the system, plus no organizations decrying driving drunk. So Joe Ball was  power in LA County. If you wanted a judgeship, you would have to clear it with Joe (ask Art Alercon) Well, he had one of his rich clients caught on a DUI in Malibu and I was assigned to try the case. The facts were not great for the prosecution but I was expected to forge ahead. Joe’s client testified to his evening drinking pattern. At the time the use of credit cards was in its infancy with the most popular being “Diners Card.” I got the idea Joe’s client probably paid by credit card and the rules of privacy was not what they are today. So, I called Diners Card, gave them the date of the arrest, the name of the customer, and sure enough, he had a lot more to drink than he testified to. Diners Card sent me a copy of the bill with the client’s signature. I did not bother to hit the client by cross-exam, just showed the billing to Joe and he folded and had the client plead guilty to the DUI with the usual fine.

As far as I know, that was the first time a credit card was used to establish an act necessary and relevant to an issue in a criminal case.

Enough for today

Marshall

I should mention there is no schedule for my blogging, but as the mood hits me. So, I may write three or four days a week and at times only weekly or less.  So if you are reading this stuff, just check in periodically to see if there are any updates from your last reading. Also this blog is meant for two types of readers: one, for those untrained in the law, but are curious how it works, and for lawyers who are interested in trial work in the criminal law field who may gain some ideas that fit their method of trial practice. Lord knows, I learned from a lot of other lawyers some great ideas that I incorporated into my style, and in law one is always learning.  Also, a lot of personal experiences outside of the law but just to give the reader an understanding of what made me develop as a trial lawyer If anyone wants to contribute , ask questions or share ideas, please do.

With the above said, after three years I am where I want to be – felony trial Court. At this time I am living on Reeves Drive in a nice apartment complex in Beverly Hills, married and things are good.

The LADA’s Office knew what it was doing. Young DAs just don’t pick up a file go into court, start picking a jury and proceed to trial. Remember, the old timers were well-educated Depression babies who had been on the job for 20 years or more. Felonies were serious business and the new guy starts just observing for a while, then moves into taking pleas in such a way the possibility of withdrawing the plea of guilty was next to impossible after the defendant is sworn in and goes through a series of questions of free and voluntary, no force or violence asserted, not pleading to help someone else, and pleading because he/she is guilty for no other reason. Then the new guy gets to put on a court trial without a jury or a submission of the case on the transcript of the preliminary hearing . Then finally the new guy is given a minor type of felony to prosecute, so if there is a not-guilty verdict, society won’t have a dangerous violent criminal walking the streets because of some foul up by a green prosecutor. In other words, there is a substantial training process.

Finally I get my first felony trial. It’s an armed robbery case against two defendants. I was sent out to one of the courts on the 8th floor, the felony court floor to the Honorable Judge Clement Nye, who was affectionately referred to by defense lawyers as “Clemency Denied.” He had this huge courtroom where he had all the windows covered by purple drapes which gave the whole courtroom an extremely somber look. The lights that were used were very dim mostly around the Judge’ Bench and the  witness stand and the jury box. I could hardly see the material in the file and over a period, developed a blistering headache. The case itself was pretty simple, a few eyewitnesses, the defendants took the stand saying it wasn’t them, I impeached them both by sandbagging them with their taped confessions and after a short argument by the attorneys and me out came the jury with guilty verdicts for both.

I was warned: Judge Nye wants speed, so I gave him what he wanted.

But, you want to know what a speedy trial is, well, after the verdict, both defendants asked for a probation hearing, which meant referring the matter to the Probation Department for a report and a sentencing hearing about three weeks from the date of referral. So the judge looked at the two defendants and asked them if they really wanted to do “Dead Time” (those days, people did not get the credits for pretrial custody  like they do these days) both said no, waived the hearing and asked for the sentence, which they got, 5 to life in State Prison for both of them. All of this was done before lunch on the day the trial was first started.  The bottom line was known to chew up young DAs, but we got along quite well and believe me he tested me to see what I was made of.

I mentioned in the beginning of this blog that I learned from others, not their style which I will go over later, but just general knowledge.

The DAs and Public Defenders and defense attorneys and Court-appointed attorneys were not enemies, but each respected each other as professionals. Today, I find DA’s Offices have become extremely political and Public Defenders and young criminal lawyers have an antipathy toward each other, and rather than the mutual respect I so much enjoyed as a prosecutor and defense attorney, that respect has been seriously eroded to the detriment of both sides. The mutual trust and honorable value of one’s word has been somewhat eroded in the modern-day justice system, and I do miss the old days. An example I will never forget was after the evidence was presented in a minor felony case and while sweating out the verdict with the defense attorney, Deputy Public Defender, Richard Erskin, an old-timer and a really good attorney, I was complaining about the amount of time it was taking the jury to reach a verdict and how stupid the jury panel was. Erskin said to me “Marshall, if you have a negative attitude towards jurors, the jury will sense that belief and it will always work against you. The jurors will be able to sense your attitude towards them, and it can come back to bite you one day.” Boy, did that make a lot of sense. From that day on until my last jury trial, I always write at the top of my yellow pad: “Be nice. Be conversational. Treat the jurors as your friends.” I write other things we will discuss as this goes on. Always learning.

Enough for today. Got a lot of more stuff, such as what other good ideas were given to me by others, but also don’t try to be someone else or develop someone else’s style. We haven’t come close to all my thoughts, including great defense experiences.

 

OK. I was bored to death. Got an office on the 5th floor with a desk, a chair and two chairs in front. The detectives, generally the two partners, bring in their reports which I look over, drinking coffee and smoking my Luckey Strikes. I read, the cops wait, I ask questions if needed and they respond. I choose what charges to file, like robbery or burglary, sex crimes, homicide… whatever the case calls for,. The detectives take the paper work to secretaries who type up the charges, they bring it back to me. I sign the complaint and the detectives go to the Court Clerk’s Office and file it and the case is set for arraignment and that ends my part in the process. Fun huh? Now when I say no case or take it to the City Attorney if it is not serious enough to file as a felony, such as an assault with a deadly weapon, like a knife or razor and just a few stiches, I will send it out to be charged by the City Attorney as a misdemeanor. Anything over five stitches, I would file as a felony and the DA’s Office would proceed as a felony, unless there were aggravating facts or a bad rap sheet, which would go to the City  Attorney to prosecute.

There were a couple of incidents I do remember worth mentioning. Two detectives brought in a cheap burglary report.  I thought it needed more work, particularly witness interviews to see if there was enough evidence The cops and I got into a pretty hairy shouting match as they wanted a filing right then. One cop actually put his hand on his revolver in a threatening manner and all three of us went to my supervisor’s office. Words were spoken in an unfriendly manner and I was backed up. They did not come back, and out of curiosity I checked with our filing people, and sure enough, the detectives went behind my back the next day and by “DA-shopping,” got one of the other DAs to file the complaint without telling him it was assigned to me.  Followed that trail and learned the case was dismissed at the preliminary hearing as the witness I wanted interviewed exonerated the defendant  Strange that one of the detective’s uncles was the defense attorney. Oh Well that was LA.

I should mention that theLAPD under Chief Parker (who the Parker Center was named after,) and the LA DA were not at this early time on the best of terms. My impression was they just did not trust each other. I am talking about the Brass, not the detectives.  Almost all of the detectives were straight shooters, no pun intended, and damn smart, some a hell of a lot smarter than me.  This comparison will be presented later when I get into the meat of some of my cases, but we’re not there yet. It seems there was a killing of Johnny Stepenato, believed to be somehow connected to organized crime as a minor player. Allegedly, he was stabbed to death by the daughter of a very, very important movie star, Lana Turner. (You may have never heard about Lana, but in the early days, she was gorgeous, a beautiful blonde and big box office at the time. (look her up in google, lots there.) Stepenato was Lana’s boyfriend around that time. Well, instead of calling the police, the most famous defense attorney in LA, Jerry Geisler, was summoned to the scene, and after meeting with Lana Turner, rather than calling the LAPD to come to the scene to investigate, the DA was contacted. The DA investigators, after meeting with those at the scene, then called in the LA Police, but by that time all the LA cops got was a story how Lana’s daughter was attacked by Johnny and she and no one else, specifically Lana Turner, had anything to do with the killing. Thus, no case was ever filed, because there was no evidence to refute the self-defense claim. The movie industry was the major industry at the time and the studios supported various political jobs and their Stars were valuable box office property.  I am not saying I have proof of any shenanigans, but the feud between the LADA and Chief Parker seemed to arise around that time

Another incident comes to mind. One day, things were slow and I was just waiting for my next interview with detectives. Then a woman about in her forties comes into my office with two detectives and she is introduced to me as follows: “OK, tell Mr. Schulman your story which she starts to do as follows:

Well, she says, I met this woman and we became very close and great friends. This woman confided in me and I with her. She told me she was in love and had a relationship with a beautician for a long time, but the beautician decided to go back to her husband and as a result my friend was suffering and wanted the husband eliminated. So a plan was developed to purchase a revolver, disguise theirselves in Halloween masks, go to where they were living and shoot the husband. So I went there, rang the doorbell, the husband answered and I said trick or treat and shot him and we left. He died from my gunshot.  I could not live with what I did, so I turned myself in.I filed a 1st degree premeditated, lying-in-wait murder charge which was punishable by death, or life in prison charge and we had an understanding that if she would testify against the other woman as accomplice to the murder, she may get some kind of a deal  Actually I let her know I would not be in charge of the case once it gets to court and I could not guarentee a deal as that would be up to the Deputy handling the court proceedings.

Well after she let my office the Deputy, a long time member of the office, came into my office wanting to know why she was there with the two detectives as he formerly dated her. Small World.

She ended up pleading to murder 2nd, which carried 15 to life.

Well, I finished my stint in Complaints after about one year and was assigned as the 3rd deputy in one of the Felony trial Courts.  Three deputies to a Court, the boss deputy, known as the Calendar Deputy as I expalined in an earlier blog, a senior trial deputy and the third, me, as a trial Deputy. I think my immediate boss, Calendar Deputy was Sam Meyerson and a very nice guy. (Sam later was assigned the Patty Hurst case in connection with armed robberies by her kidnappers of the Symbionese Army, after her deals in San Francisco, which is a fascinating story by itself. Google Patty Hurst for the story.)

Now is the beginning of the development of my expertise…..

Marshall

Now ensconced in the San Antonio Area Office, appearing in court, arguing with the judges, trying misdemeanor cases, mostly DUIs, and getting pretty good results, in spite of the constant aggravation from judges who, in my opinion, were not the greatest legal scholars and putting on preliminary hearings and filing or rejecting or sending out for more investigation is my daily routine. Pretty easy work. There was not much of significance, just the usual drunk drivers, assault and battery cases. There was one case where this young adult was stalking people with a cross-bow. Never saw such a weapon before. Nasty thing with a dart shaped bolt for the damage.

Then came the face off. During the 50s, LA air was really bad. Smog was so thick on some days you couldn’t see the buildings across the street. The cause was a combination of things: motor vehicles exuding carbon monoxide, factories emitting more gunk from their furnaces, and in the Northeast section, oil refineries spewing smoke from their processes in a giant amount. The wind pattern was cyclonic, meaning it traveled in a circular pathway from west to east then got caught by the Coast Mountain Range around Pasadena to the far North. Daytime, the sea breeze pushed all this junk North, and at night the pattern was then to move the stuff back towards the coast. This was a constant air flow; something had to be done. LA County created an agency within the Health Department to prosecute offenders that did not utilize certain products that would filter the carbon output and there were plenty of offenders. What would happen is the smog inspectors had a device that would measure whether the emission met certain standards. It was a primitive device, but worked. Well, the area had a lot of manufacturing plants emitting smoke into the air and some just did not want to go to the expense of putting into their plants devices that would reduce the amount of carbon coming from their smokestacks. One of the cases stands out.

Can’t remember the exact details, but the company was  a major offender and we prosecuted them, demanding, if convicted, a large fine and an order to do the right thing.  I got the case, which was assigned to the weakest of the judges in my opinion .  Heavy pressure was directed at me from the bench to let the cases slide by way of a small fine or just court costs- I don’t remember why the pressure was, but the case went forward and I think there was a conviction, but the next thing I knew I was out of there on my way back to the main office to be assigned to the complaint department.

In order to advance in the DAs Office, a certain number of trials had to be completed- and successfully. When a DA was assigned to Complaints, Juvenile Court or mental health court, there was no way the Deputy DA could ever advance beyond Deputy Grade One and also no advancement in pay.  That was the Office’s way of getting rid of “dead wood” or just someone who did not fit in.

In those days, judges wielded great power and were rarely, if ever, challenged for reelection.  All a judge had to do is pick up the phone and say “get this guy out of my court, and bye-bye Deputy DA; you are now in a non-trial position (get the picture?)

There was no sense in my staying in an office with no chance of advancement. So I went to my new boss, Howard Hurd (who incidentally became one of the top brass in the Office) and went to resign.  Asked why, I told him if I have no future here, I might as well find some other place. Howard, to his credit, assured me I was well thought of in the office and they had to succumb to a request. Stay in complaints for a while and you will be advanced quickly.

OK, I am a team player. Howard kept his word and I was assigned to the 6th floor: FELONY TRIAL SECTION and I was one, if not the only, deputy who made what we all wanted, to be felony trial lawyers-the Big Leagues! In three years, not the usual six years, and was advanced from grade-one deputy to grade-two which included a substantial raise.  Pays off to be a team player.

Complaints was sometimes interesting but usually very boring with the same routine every day with a little bit of excitement in between.  We can talk about and other stuff in my next blog

Marshall

East LA was a blast. Lots of cases, lots of trials, lots of fun.  Problems were primarily related to drugs, which needed money to buy, so lots of burglaries, shoplifting and mostly minor stuff, easily resolved.  During the racing season, one of the judges liked to leave early to hop to the racetrack in Santa Anita, so get the calendar done before noon. I, for one, could. (He used to say, “half a loaf is better than none,” when it came to negotiation.  Wonder what he meant by that.)  There were some heavy bad guys and a famous gang called “The White Fence Gang,”  a Hispanic group that meant business in doing business. Most of my readers are too young to have heard of the Broadway Musical called “Zoot Suit”which was based on the White Fence Gang. Bottom line, I really liked the East LA Office and got a ton of experience, not only in Law but also in another area and another culture. But, the Office wanted to help the Deputy DA get out of the San Antonio Judicial District and the Office figured a more thick-skinned guy could stand up to the three judges who terrorized young prosecutors.  So off I went to a whole different part of LA, the North or Central East part of the County.

Let me remind you of the area: Huntington- generally white, working-class residents, and the City of Bell just north of Huntington Park (by the way there was no park in Huntington Park that I recall.) Generally law-abiding, The City of Bell just North of Huntington Park was pretty much the same with a few bad guys, Vernon, adjacent and to the South of Huntington Park, was straight industrial and manufacturing. Like all the cities, it had a small police force, but a number of cops really wanted to work there, because, due to the huge tax revenue generated by the businesses, the police officers pay was higher than any city in the County and probably higher than any PD in the State. As a result, though the force was small, the police officers of Vernon were really good in every way and pretty cool about it as well. As far as population was concerned it was as if there were no residents in Vernon to speak of.  I might mention a very good buddy of mine who I knew for years and met through mutual friends, named Mike Roberts ran his father’s commercial laundry business located in Vernon, so we would meet often for lunch at one of the best lunch cafes I had ever been to.  I should mention- also included in the industry, there were meat-packing plants, and this cafe had the best meat sandwiches I have ever had before or after. Can’t remember the name and not sure if it is still there.  Mike and I go way back and I would get tarred and feathered if I told you of some of our pre-law exploits.  I remember one day we drove to Tijuana,when Tijuana was one paved road just across the border, and on that road many many bars serving shots of tequila with salt on the wrist to suck and  squeeze of lime to suck as well.  Don’t know how we made it back to LA but we managed after being chased by serious guys in serapes and long knives.  Mike was one of my male attendants at my wedding in San Francisco which was at the Fairmont Hotel.  Almost got thrown out of the place before the wedding.  Don’t know what we did, but we consumed a lot of Black Label.  He was, and is, a good guy.The Latino community was North of the City of Bell, a County area policed by the LA Sheriffs as if it was not a City with a local police force like Vernon, Huntington Park and Bell, who all had their own police forces.  “The Green Lantern” was the local drinking hole in Bell Gardens, and unlike Bell and Huntington Park, was not a white working-class neighborhood, but housed the largest community of ex cons, many still parolees, and though predominately a white community, a much tougher gathering of characters. I remember one police report noting the Sheriffs being called to the “Green Lantern” to quell a fight and when they entered they observed one guy just beating another who was on the floor, the beater looked at the two sheriffs and promptly turned back to his victim and proceeded to continue to stomp the guy.  The sheriffs did not know what to do, so they called for reinforcements as they were not going into that place without back up.

I should mention this was back in the 50s long before integration and LA County was de facto segregated by race, ethnicity and as far as civil rights were concerned, they just did not exist. If one was African-American, it would be an unpleasant experience to be in Beverly Hills or Glendale and some other cities after sunset.  That’s the way it was, broken into sections of ethnicity. Restrictive covenants on deeds to property were enforced and if the deed to the property said no sale to Negroes, Jews, or Asians, it was enforced.  Many young people are probably unaware of the America of those days.  As an example, there was World War II being fought in the 40s, but when I was drafted and sent to basic training, the 100,000 or so soldiers at Camp Roberts in the Salinas Valley in Central California were segregated and no “colored” men were there. Hard to believe, but that was the way it was.

The courthouse and area in the District were beautiful Spanish Style with large grounds and adobe buildings, housing not only the Courts but City agencies, DA’s area office and a place for the public defenders.  On my first day after arriving, I went directly to the DA’s Office, and introduced myself to the  only other DA there, Kenny Trauber. Turned out he was a great guy, gave me the lowdown on what was going on, the local politics including the three judges and assigned me my duties which consisted of everything.  His job was to keep the peace with local agencies and police, file some complaints and send me off to the Courts to do battle.  OK that’s what I will do if that’s what I am supposed to do.

So, off I go with a stack of cases to arraign,deal, set and, if need be, to try the various type of cases that found their way to the criminal justice system

Enough for one day and to be continued to illustrate some of my experiences and learned knowledge of the ways of the “System”

Marshall

Ronald Dennis Wolff was the 15-year-old son of Mr. & Mrs. Wolff, living in Glendale California, attending Glendale High School. His grades for the year at the time of the incident were 3 As and 2 Bs, and he was active in the school band. I am not sure of the date, but around 1962 or 1963, he was just learning about sex, so he developed a list of neighbor girls he wanted to either rape  or at least photograph, one or the other.

So, pursuant to his plan, he acquired a bottle of ether, went to the first girl’s house located near his home, climbed up the roof and tried to enter the young girl’s residence by climbing down the chimney with some ether but fortunately got stuck. His plan was cut short.

Now his parents were concerned, so they took him to their family doctor who diagnosed the conduct as just “teenager antics” and not to worry. The family doctor could not have been more wrong.

Ronald realized that a plan to enter the selected girl’s home would not work and believed the best way to accomplish his plan to rape or photograph the selected girl would be to use ether, knock her out and get her to his home so he could accomplish his plan.

Well, he knew to do the deed, he would have to eliminate anyone that would thwart his plan, that is, his mother, an aunt if she was around, and his brother. So, he obtained an axe handle, hid it under his pillow and waited for a time everyone was out of his house except his mother.

So, the next morning when only his mother was present, he ate his breakfast his mother had prepared, went up to his room, retrieved the axe handle and stalked his mother, but decided the situation was not right, so back to his room he goes, and hides the weapon under his pillow not to be used that day.  The following morning, he retrieved the axe handle again, went down to the kitchen where his mother was located, approached her from the rear, and smashed the axe handle on the back of her head. His Mom did not lose consciousness, started to run, followed by Ronald, who caught her, put her on the ground and strangled her to death. (for a complete fact summary, Google and read People v. Wolff 61 Cal 2nd 715 after reading this blog.)

After the killing, Ronald cleaned the blood off his clothes, went directly to the Glendale Police Station, and reported to officers he did something bad, “I killed my mother,” he said.

Sometimes as a prosecutor, I wonder what some of the defense lawyers were thinking.

Ronald was arrested, and due to his age at the time, he was ensconced in Juvenile Hall. Rather than treating him as an adult, I believe he could have been found presently insane due to his diagnosed mental illness, schizophrenia, put in a mental facility, receive treatment and never have to face a criminal court, and probably would never regain sanity in the medical sense.

His lawyer wanted him not to have to face future criminal charges, I surmise, so he convinced the juvenile judge to transfer the matter to adult court and that is where I come in to the picture.

After a preliminary hearing to test sufficiency of evidence to warrant a trial the case was then sent to Department 101 presided over by Judge Herbert Walker and that was my court as well, so it’s now my case to prosecute.

(Judge Walker was a gruff old no-nonsense old school type of judge. He is best known as the presiding trial judge in the case of Sirhan Sirhan, the assassin who murdered Robert Kennedy at the Ambassador hotel in Los Angeles and is still languishing in prison. An interesting sidelight is Evelle Younger was the elected DA at the time, and, for some reason, the State Department did not want the case to go to trial and the DA offered Sirhan life in prison for the cold-blooded murder. At the time on a Capital Case, the judge had to agree with the disposition, and Judge Walker turned down the offer on the belief the American Public had a right to know all the facts to avoid some type of conspiracy theories that resulted from  President John Kennedy’s murder in Dallas, Texas. I had left the DA’s Office at the time, I think the trial was either 1965 or 1966.  I did get a call from Judge Walker regarding an anticipated agreement between the prosecution and defense to allow what is known as truth serum, Sodium Pentothal, and he was concerned about the danger of the drug and had been authorized by the Court to hire me, based on my many cases involving psychiatry and the law, to examine and report if there was a substantial risk in the administration of the drug and could Sirhan be killed by the drug.  Needless to say I was excited to be involved in a case involving the former Attorney General Nominee for President of the United States and brother of the then-sitting president.  But shortly after the approval, both sides withdrew their stipulation and my 15 minutes of fame never came to pass.)

Back to Ronald Wolff. Well, the defense never entered a plea of not guilty but only one plea, “Not Guilty by reason of Insanity to the charge of Murder.”  With a single plea, that type of plea in effect admits the murder and the only issue is whether the accused was sane or insane at the time of the act. The Defendant has the burden of proof of insanity to overcome the legal presumption of Sanity. The standard is based on a very old case called the “McNaughton Rule,” Did the defendant know the difference between right and wrong (knows it’s wrong but just doesn’t care) and, two: could the defendant appreciate the character and quality of his act? That’s it.  One could be very mentally ill, but even with the illness, could the defendant be capable of knowing right from wrong and was the defendant capable of appreciating the character and quality of his act. Capability is the key word. Let’s get back to the case.

OK I was able to observe the defendant in court, and it was clear to me, Ronald was not all there. The defense attorney, for whatever  reason, did not, as I thought he should, ask the Court to create a doubt as to his present sanity. The rule is: can the defendant, if he wants to, cooperate with his defense attorney, and/or does the defendant appreciate what is happening to him, the charges, defenses, sentences etc.  Well, I thought if the defense counsel won’t do it, I will and I asked the Court to declare a doubt as to Ronald’s present sanity and if found presently insane, then to send him to a mental institution until recovered, and, in my opinion, he would probably never come back, as he had been diagnosed basically as a schizophrenic Juvenile, undifferentiated type.  So, I asked the defense lawyer for summation reports and I would agree that he should go to a hospital.  No such luck.  Defense asked for a hearing, and for the first time in my career, it was the prosecution who asked for a finding of present insanity and the defense that opposed.  Evidence was put on Pychs testified and to my astonishment the judge found Ronald presently sane.  So, now I am getting worried.  The last thing I wanted was to have Ronald found sane  and eventually walking the streets again, a pretty big danger to society.

Well of we go to trial, psychs called by the defense and their testimony washed out each other. One said he met both McNaughton tests, another said he did not meet either test, a third said he could appreciate the character and quality of his act but not right from wrong, and the fourth said he could not appreciate the character and quality, but could distinguish right from wrong. So the jury is left with what did he do, what did he say, how did he plan, and the bottom line is, probably the jury was not going to let him get off for killing his mother and just walk on the streets again   They found him sane which is the last thing the defense attorney wanted.

Now with a single plea and finding of Sane the judge, never having this situation, wanted to know about who finds the degree of the murder. Judge, I tell him, you do. Is there authority for that, and I reply “yes.”  Judge says show me the authority, and I say Judge trust me.  Judge insists on authority, and I say OK, it’s People vs. “Machine Gun” Walker, the Judge’s nephew who, as a Korean War Vet, went bonkers, barricaded himself and started shooting people.  The Judge wasn’t happy being reminded that Machine Gun Walker was his nephew.  So, we agreed the judge could decide degree- either 1st or 2nd on the trial evidence and the psych reports and he found Ronald Guilty of 1st degree which is 25 to life in the prison system with the recommendation he be incarcerated in a State Prison Medical facility for the criminally insane.

The story does not end with the sentence. The defense took the case on appeal all the way to the State Supreme Court where in a unanimous opinion written by the Chief Justice, affirmed the finding of Sanity but created a new rule that due to his age and mental condition he could not maturely and meaningfully appreciate his contemplated act and coldly deliberate and premeditate its conclusion. Thus the case was reduced to murder 2nd from 1st.  Did not make sense to me based upon the preparations, plus it takes a while to strangle a person to death. But, no harm no foul, as the difference is negligible for parole in a 1st case after 25 years and 2nd after 17 years, but both carry a top of life in prison.

The bottom line is Ronald could have been treated as a juvenile offender, and if not, then he could have been declared presently insane and never been convicted of anything and  spend his remaining years in a non-criminally insane facility.

I have always regretted having to go the criminal route in that case, but was basically forced by defense tactics to get a result that was necessary but not gratifying.

I urge the reader to read the written opinion for a good dissertation on mental defects and the law.

Marshall

Instead of going to Huntington Park and areas and what happened there, and the future DA stuff, I want to share my knowledge of what I believe are the best hiring policies and the plusses and minuses of my experiences with you and come back to the DA’s Office and some great stories of my prosecution cases later.

So, here is a story of one of my hires.  My secretary said “Mr Schulman, there is a gentleman without an appointment that wishes to see you.”  Slow day, reading reports and research, so why not take a little rest and see what he wants.  Send him in I said, and in comes this fellow about six-two, sandy straight hair combed straight back, rather thinly, but well-built, not handsome, but not ugly either,  “Hello, I am Marshall, what can I do for you?”  He replies, after being seated, that he is presently employed as a prosecutor in the Orange County DA’s Office assigned to the juvenile branch.  He is having a hard time getting along with his boss, John Cronnin.  (I should have mentioned he introduced himself as Paul Herbert.) So I tell him. “No one gets along with John, but that is his style, but once you get to know him, he is a pretty nice guy. I wasn’t looking for more staff at the time. I believe I had two darn good lawyers employed; one was a former presiding Judge of the criminal department of the Orange County Superior Court, Byron McMillan, who was in effect at the time a full partner regarding division of the profits from the law practice, but I was intrigued. So tell me about yourself, Paul, and he did.  His resume consisted of the fact that he was a graduate of Boalt Hall now known as University of California Berkeley Law School and was number 2 in his class and also on the Cal tennis team as an undergraduate. ( I favor former athletes because they have the competitive spirit necessary for the contests of the courtroom.) After he graduated, he was offered a position in one of the largest and most prominent law firms in America; in my memory it was Skadden Arps in New York. Prior to that employment and while in Law school, he worked as an extern for one of the justices of the California Supreme Court and one of the  cases he wrote for the justices was actually published adopting his tentative brief.  From there to the New York Firm for three years, and then he left to teach law at a Southern Law School (I can’t remember the name. After three years in the South, he then taught at a Law School in the Midwest and after three years, wanted trial experience so that was how he ended up in the Orange County DA’s Office. By then, he had obtained the title of associate professor of Law. Well, he sounded interesting, and though I was not looking for a new hire at the time, I could get this fellow at a very reasonable salary by matching his income that he was receiving from the DA’s Office. So I brought him aboard  It turned out it was worth it for the effort he put in, his willingness to learn and, if you will, my fortune in learning from him. If you are any good in the criminal field, then you continue to learn and keep up with all the changes in the law, and also for trial work I have long advocated “You learn from your losses not victories.)

My point is, I only wanted as associates lawyers, male and female, who I believed  were  as smart or smarter than I.  Lots of big-time lawyers like to surround themselves with inferior toadies to bolster their ego.  I do not need bolstering or any other self-aggrandizement.  Whenever I was working a case that had press coverage, I would not, if I could avoid it, pander to the press or media.  That’s me.  Almost all of my hires, if not a partnership, ended up as judges or developed their own practice (which will be discussed in further blogs,) and we all remained good friends as each went out to make their mark.

Well Paul, obviously. was a three year-and-out type of guy, gaining experience at each stop.  However, in my case, he remained a lot longer, enjoying working with me and the other lawyers in my firm  The following is his travels with Marshall.

In the beginning, Paul would write briefs, attend court and observe. I eventually assigned him some trials and I will be darned if he was getting not guilty verdicts on his own cases. I remember one case which was a sure loser at the time: driving under the influence of a drug- to wit- marijuana, where the client was all over the road and had that green leafy stuff caked in his mouth and teeth.  Don’t know how he did it, but the jury found the client not guilty.

During the course of employment, he asked for permission to teach at my alma mater, Loyola Law School, a course in something I knew very little about, The Uniform Commercial Code, known as Bills and Notes in my day. Of course he  had my permission.  While at Loyola, Paul earned a full professorship in Law, which is no mean feat.  He also represented a rock group that hired my office and together with an attorney from Northern California, mostly in the East Bay area, Phil Schnayerson, managed to take the charges, which consisted of what was claimed to be pornography on their record label and managed to make the case go away (today there would be no charge as contemporary community standards are quite different.)

I represented a man who was charged with possession of illegal firearms and an ounce of cocaine based on an arrest in Santa Ana, California in LA Federal Court before the Honorable Spencer Letts (The judge was also a Boalt Hall Graduate and also very high in his class standing.) The facts are:

One sunny day, the client may or may not have been observed casing a bank in Santa Ana.  The cops supposedly received an anonymous call about a suspicious man oddly observing the bank and the subject’s car and license plate was relayed to the Santa Ana Police Department and then relayed to the police patrol cars. The police followed the car on main street in Santa Ana traveling northbound on Main Street.  Observing no traffic violations the Police stopped the car anyway. They had the driver step out, patted him down and recovered a fully loaded 40 Caliber revolver holstered on his right hip. Guess what? They also recovered another forty-caliber revolver attached to his other hip. Client was placed under arrest and a subsequent car search revealed in the car’s trunk a loaded 40 caliber 4M-40, commonly known as a “Rambo” machine gun, and an ounce of cocaine.  Those are the facts.

What kind of a defense can you put up, you ask? Why, illegal search and seizure, I say, as the cops had no basis from what they knew to believe a crime was committed. or was about to be committed or was going to be committed, a violation of the subject’s 4th amendment right to be free from unreasonable search and seizure.

I am a darn good writer when it comes to motions and many of my pleadings have been coined by other lawyers, but in this case I had Paul draft the motion to exclude the evidence, and I have to admit his pleading was superior to ones I had drafted.

So, w were off to Court before Judge Letts.  My opponent was Assistant US Attorney Tom Umberg, a really darn good lawyer and this is the way it went:

I argue, Tom argues and the judge denigrate my motion and it looks like we are going to lose, so I start doing a little dancing and ask the court for more time to respond to the court’s concern and I get the time, do a little cosmetic redrafting and the next thing you know the Judge is going along with the defense, so Tom does what I did, asked or more time to respond and he gets what he asked for.  More fiddling with the motions by both sides, and when we return, the Judge now thinks our motion is solid and grants the motion to exclude the guns and dope, end of case. Now, Tom takes what is known as an interim appeal before the 9th Circuit.  Briefs are submitted and before the appellate Court we go. Argument is presented to the three judge panel. We lose 2 to  1. I  prepare a writ to go before the US Supreme Court. That Court generally dismisses 80% of the applications and on the remaining 20%, the solicitor General has to file a response. We made the 80% rule but the court would not hear it and remanded the case to the trial Court.  We plead guilty to the cocaine charge, the client got out in 6 months so a win for both sides.

Paul was very helpful on the case and when he addressed the Court neither I nor Tom Umberg could figure out what the two Boalt Hall graduates were talking about.

Well. finally Paul decided to return full-time to academics and got a position at a small Law School in Stockton known as San Joaquin School of Law, not well-known, but had a great pass rate on the Bar Exam.

I lost contact for several years when he showed up to say hello and let me know what he was presently doing.You’re going to have trouble absorbing this:

Paul eventually moved to the Caribbean, attended a Medical School, moved to Miami, became a licensed MD, took a residency in psychiatry, taught at Harvard and then Yale and eventually Vanderbilt and wrote as well as taught psychiatry and the law with many published peer review articles, some on a psychiatrist’s duty to reveal potential patient harm. You can google Paul B.Herbert JD MD for a list of his works. Sadly as I learned, Paul passed away, a very young and brilliant man,

I wrote the above to illustrate part of Marshall’s knowledge is based on being fortunate and wise enough to surround myself with top-level people and pass that on as a thought for anyone about to hire someone as a yardstick for employment.

More to come

Marshall

Earlier, I mentioned being sent to the East LA Office. The Office is located in County territory East Beverly Drive and extends from the end of Boyle Heights eastward to encompass County areas east and ending in the City of Whittier with an area in County area known as “Jimtown.” Don’t know how “Jimtown” was named, but it was occupied generally by Latinos, including a gang known as “The White Fence” gang. The gang condition in LA was serious, but not there was not as many  as the numerous Latino, Black and white street and prison gangs of today.  That does not mean the drug, robbery and murder business was not controlled by the local gangs of the 40s and 50s.  Actually the Sheriffs responsible for law enforcement were required to act, but they were reluctant to go into “Jimtown” area without substantial back up. Actually, I liked the East LA Office and the whole area and crimes committed therein were substantially different from what I knew, a guy raised in the Beverly Hills area.  A new learning process for me. My duties were reviewing police reports and either filing a complaint or rejecting it for insufficient evidence or sending it back for further investigation; dealing cases set for trial or trying misdemeanor cases, mostly DUIs or assaults and putting on preliminary hearings.  Also appearing in the Whittier municipal Court and dealing or trying cases in Whittier.  Things were going very well, I was gaining a lot of experience and becoming a darn good trial attorney with a high conviction rate. The experience in East LA was a great learning process.  Among one of my duties when I decided to file a complaint was to recommend bail.  I was never a high bail guy, and believed that bail should be reasonable to assure that the subject would return to court rather than forfeit bail and have his/her family suffer due to their guaranteeing the subject’s return and forfeit what the bail amount was set at.  East LA was not, except for Whittier, an affluent area, occupied mostly by workers, laborers and the like.  Today bail is being used to keep an accused in custody by what is known as bail schedules set by the local Court Districts and set high and rarely reduced in order to protect the Courts from being criticized for releasing someone who then commits another crime.  The US Constitution guarantees a defendant reasonable bail, but, in practice, in the California State Courts, in my opinion that does not apply, and only the rich can make bail while the poor languish in jail until their case is resolved.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m no “bleeding heart” when it comes to criminals, but until convicted and unless a danger to society, and I mean a physical danger, I released most of mine, unless the charge carried the possibility of a death sentence in a 1st degree murder case. I believe bail should be set in a reasonable amount or the accused in many cases should be released on their own recognizance, i.e released on their promise to appear known as O.R. The bail schedule business came about actually in Orange County, where a bail schedule was devised to hold an accused after an arrest or the Court-appointed bail commissioner could look at the case and reset bail depending on the charge and the defendant’s background.  Normally the bail was revised or the defendant was released pending further appearances on his/her OR. Then subsequently, the State legislature, based on the Orange County program, passed a law making the bail system state-wise. In so doing that, each County devised its own bail schedule and it was different from County to County.  As an example, if a defendant allegedly committed a general plan to commit an offense such as robbery but an assault occurred,  Santa Clara County would set the bail based on one act, robbery, but San Francisco would set the bail for the robbery and then stack the bail for the assault.  The result would be that in San Francisco the accused could sit the jail at say  $30,000 for the robbery and add another $10,000 for the assault, but Santa Clara would set the bail at $10,000. Did not matter because generally the schedule for most crimes was so high that the poor could not make it anyway. Whatever happened to “The Presumption of Innocence” that is presumed innocent unless evidence in Court, not a police report, is proven beyond a reasonable doubt.  After many years of disproportionate bail for the rich and the poor, in the new reports and the present presidential race this is finally being addressed.

Anyway, I was enjoying East LA, then one day I was informed I was being transferred to “The San Antonio Area Office” that covered the Cities of Huntington Park, Vernon, Bell and the county Area of Bell Gardens, all located in South East LA. Seems a Deputy DA very favorably looked at by the “powers that be”  was having almost a nervous breakdown dealing with the three judges that manned the Municipal Court covering the area office and asked me to switch with him, believing I was tough enough to stand up to the judges.  So to give you an idea of the area, Huntington Park was a local working class neighborhood. Veron was strictly industrial. Bell was somewhat like Huntington Park and the County Area, Bell Gardens, was not close to a garden, probably populated by more ex-cons than any other area in LA. There was a bar in Bell Gardens called the Green Lantern furnished with boxes for seats as every Saturday night the place would be torn apart by drunken felony fights including mayhem (bodily dismemberment such as a split nose or an ear bitten off.) Cops were reluctant to even go in the place at “fight night,” ie Saturday night, when the brawls started.

Next San Antonio judicial District and my encounters with what I termed “The Three Blind Mice” referring to the local judges

Marshall

As a defense attorney, I have met clients seeking help on their cases though they had been convicted and sentenced to State Prison for various years. I remember how stark and foreboding the prisons were. One wonders why the potential threat of prison and all it entails wouldn’t deter criminals from crimes, but it doesn’t.  It’s the “I am not going to get caught” syndrome that keeps us defense attorneys in business. I have been to San Quentin Prison located in Marin County right on the San Francisco Bay, but the view isn’t enjoyed by those cons inside. I was there to interview a prospective client; he and his family were hoping I could find something to get his case reversed and he could end up a free man.  I arrived with Sharon Thompson.  Sharon was one of the good attorneys who came aboard while my office was in Santa Ana, California. She was very talented and stayed with me for a substantial period of time. However like many of the attorneys who came to work for me , after a period, she wanted to branch off into other ventures. She got married to Chris Strole, who at the time was one of the best trial attorneys in the Orange County Public Defender’s Office, handling the major defense cases including a batch of homicide cases. Sharon eventually was hired by the District Court of Appeals writing briefs, doing research and eventually became the Writ Appellate Clerk.  If you wanted to get a Writ before the court, you had to go through Sharon. All the required pleadings and procedures had to be met and most important, there had to be merit to your request.  It was a very powerful job.  Her husband Chris became a Superior Court Judge.  When he retired not so long ago, Sharon did as well, and they moved to Arizona, got a home on a golf resort and, the last I heard, are very happy.  Both Sharon and Chris are pretty good golfers.

Well after driving from Orange County to San Quentin, I parked the car, and went through a search procedure before being admitted to the grounds.  Had to almost strip to one’s shorts, but got through.  We were advised by the guards to go through, turn left and continue walking.  If we followed that advice, we would have found ourselves back to where we came from and have to go through again.  I caught on before it was too late and followed a yellow line into the facility. When admitted, we were given a desk and chairs in the visitors’ room waiting for the client to be brought out.  The visiting area was also the visiting area for the inmates, and out they came. They were in bunches according to their ethnicity: Blacks, Latinos and Whites.  They all appeared- huge, tattooed and mean-looking.  Sharon and I were alone among all the prisoners while the guards were behind bullet-proof glass, heavily armed. You can imagine I was not too comfortable… actually scared; not only we were unprotected in a large room full of inmate criminals who themselves were segregated by race and gang membership, but worst of all, I probably had put some of them there who might be holding a grudge. Fortunately, most of them were more interested in their female visitors engaging in some heavy love-making, and I was able to get through the interview and leave unharmed.  Couldn’t do anything for the potential client, sorry to say, but was compensated by his family for our time.

Other prisons I have been admitted to were the prison in Soledad where younger, but violent inmates are kept, the women’s prison in Carona where the smell of cow manure permeates the facility, also federal prisons at Terminal Island in San Pedro, and the Federal prison in Tehachapi;which is a minimum security prison; Also California Rehabilitation prison in Norco, Riverside County, California

Norco, basically at the time was not only a regular prison,  but a rehabilitation center for addicts.  The client I was to visit was located there.  So I arrived and to my astonishment, I met up with a former deputy district attorney who had entered the LADA’s Office on the same day in 1956 as I did and we started at the same time and same assignment, preliminary hearings.  He looked good and was eventually assigned to the Long Beach Branch Office where he did very well, tried a bunch of cases, and eventually went into private criminal defense practice in Long Beach and was very successful.

Well, Jack was married to a socialite who had a string of party friends, and, as the story goes, Jack came home one day and guess what? Saw his wife and her boyfriend comfortably in Jack’s bed together.  Anyway, that was the way the police found the two lovers, both having left this life through gunshot wounds to the head.  Jack denied he was the shooter,  and instead of admitting his alleged conduct, went to trial. A jury did not believe him and, based on circumstantial evidence, convicted him of murder in the first degree and he was sentenced to life imprisonment. Jack and I greeted each other, and I learned he was not at Norco for rehabilitation but was there as an inmate fireman.  Jack still professed his innocence, and frankly I believed him, as there were plenty of other suspects and no direct evidence linking him to the murder: no gun, no real scientific evidence connecting him to the murder and later one of the prosecution witnesses regarding scientific evidence was proven to be a fraud and a liar at worst and badly mistaken at best. A writ of Habeus Corpus was filed when the new evidence was discovered, and the appellate Court found the evidence bad, but not bad enough to give Jack a new trial. (probably if Jack had admitted to the shooting he probably could have been convicted of manslaughter, “heat of passion” and had a much more lenient sentence.) If you want to read more about Jack Kirshke, Google 16 Cal 3rd 902e

I did once visit Folsom Prison just to see it.  Reminds me of Jonny Cash and Folsom Prison Blues. (“I killed a man in Reno, just to watch him die.” When Johnny visited San Quentin and sang the song, and uttered those words, the inmates all hollered “Yeah!”) Folsom is one scary place, a fortress-looking entry, and, when I entered and looked up from the courtyard entry to the main building, I saw a guard had a machine gun pointed directly at me.  Folsom has the older inmates who just want to be left alone and do their time.  They were done with all the intrigue of the other prisons. Folsom has a gift shop off the entry manned by prisoners.  Met one who told me he had earlier got drunk and beat a man to death and he was there on a murder charge. He claimed he should be released as his problem was drinking and he hadn’t had a drink since he was arrested. (I did not point out the incongruity of being locked up without access to liquor and being free and able to drink, he was a rather huge man and no need to contradict his assertion.)

Enough for one day

ByeMarshall