Justice Displaced

As most of the regulars strongly suspected, we are getting word that the Harris County Criminal Justice Building may be shut down for up to a year due to damage sustained from Hurricane Harvey.  As I wrote in my last post, this was almost exactly what happened in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Allison in 2001.

As this is being written, prosecutors are packing up their personal effects from their offices, as we did during Allison.  This will likely be followed with trustees from the Harris County Jail and D.A. personnel boxing up and moving the files, computers, and other government property from the Office.  The same will have to be done for the PD's Office, the Courts and the Clerk's offices.  In 2001, I found myself loading and unloading boxes out of big panel vans, side by side with inmates.  In all actuality, it was kind of fun.

But things are much different than sixteen years ago. In May of 2001, the D.A.'s Office moved back to 201 Fannin (where we had all moved from in November of 1999).   I'm not sure what the status of that building is, so I don't know if it is a possible temporary shelter for the displaced prosecutors or not.  It is my understanding that the District Attorney's Office is currently operating out of the Harris County Law Library on the upper floors of the old jury assembly building.

In 2001, the Courts all relocated back to 301 San Jacinto.  All things considered, it was a fairly smooth move.  Some courts were doubled up into the same room, but it wasn't bad.  The atmosphere was relaxed and there was a camaraderie between prosecutors, judges, defense attorneys, and sometimes, even the Defendants.

But now, 301 San Jacinto holds the Juvenile Justice Center -- the heavily damaged Juvenile Justice Center.  As of this writing, it doesn't look like that particular structure provides a feasible solution for housing 22 District Courts and 16 County Courts.  There have been rumblings of potentially having some trials in the nice and shiny Civil Courts building, but that is said to be meeting heavy resistance from the Civil Court Judges.  If true, I can't say that I blame them.

Holding criminal dockets (and trials) in buildings not designed for criminal cases causes problems with security.  There are no jail holdovers for in-custody Defendants, which creates issues of how to keep everyone safe and secure.  Problems abound.  Despite that, there is an urgent need to get the Courts back to some semblance of normal as soon as possible -- especially for cases where there are people incarcerated and awaiting trial.  Many have already been in custody for months (if not over a year), awaiting their trials.  Last Monday (during the storm), I had originally been scheduled for trial on a case from April of 2016.  That case (and many more like it) isn't getting any younger.

As of this writing, we have been told that dockets are tentatively scheduled to resume on Monday, September 11th.  I'll believe that when I see it.

As I see it, there are two potential positives that can come out of the days to come.

The first is an opportunity to make some meaningful improvements to the structure of the CJC.  We bypassed this opportunity in the aftermath of Allison, and I hope we don't do so again.  There are things that can be done that are short of a full-blown do-over.  Courts can be moved to lower floors.  Accessible stairwells can be made between floors.  I don't know that anything could have been done to stop the damage to the CJC done by Hurricane Harvey, but I do think things can be done to help the day-to-day disasters that we deal with in that building under even the best of circumstances.

The second positive is the bonding experience that we are all about to have (whether we like it or not).  Things are about to get more casual, and thus more real around whatever place ends up holding our courts.  That's a good thing.  I can promise that every prosecutor, judge, defense attorney, clerk, coordinator, court reporter, and bailiff who was around during Allison can tell a host of stories of the year during "flood conditions."  They weren't always pleasant experiences, but they created the memories that each of us will have when we finally wrap up our careers.

Now those stories that began with "During Allison . . ." are going to start with "During Harvey . . ."  The days, weeks, and months ahead are not going to always be pleasant.  We'll get through them, because (as my Dad always told me) "you've just got to."

When it is all said and done (and you're back in your regular office and court), you'll be proud to be a survivor of the experience.

August 16, 1999

L-R:  John Jordan, Peter DeLeef, Adam Brown, Earl Musick, Brad Hart, 

Bill Exley, Robert Summerlin, & Me

It's hard to fathom that 18 years ago today I first entered the Harris County Criminal Justice arena.  I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was 26 years old.  Engaged to a girl named Lisa who, two months later, would become the first in a series of wives.

Although I had attended law school in Houston, I had moved back to Bryan/College Station after taking the February Bar Exam because I didn't have a job lined up.  I worked as a paid intern (for $6 an hour!) at the Brazos CountyAttorney's Office while I waited on the Bar results.  When I passed, I got invited to apply with Harris County, and I moved back to Houston the week before I started.

Chance Bolton, a childhood friend of mine, had recently gotten out of the Navy and was going to school in Houston.  He and Lisa and I moved into an old house I was renting in Timbergrove.  None of us had any money.  At the time, I was the only one who had a job lined up.

I was incredibly nervous getting ready for work that first morning.  I didn't really know anyone that worked there. I don't think I even knew where I was supposed to park.  The D.A.'s Office was still in the old building at 201 Fannin.  As I headed out the front door of the house towards my car, I heard the door open behind me.  It was Chance.

"Hey Newman," he said, strolling out into the front yard.  He extended his hand.  "I just wanted to wish you good luck on your first day as a prosecutor."

It was both an awkward and sweet moment between good friends.  Mainly it was awkward because he was only wearing his boxer shorts.  I thanked him and then implored him to go back inside before any neighbors got the wrong idea about our relationship.

I got to the D.A.'s Office and met with Renee Magee, who was the Deputy Dawg of Misdemeanor at the time.  I had done an academic internship with her after my second year of law school in Judge McSpadden's court and she had put me in touch with the Office once I passed the Bar.  Although I was starting out working in the Justice of the Peace Division, Renee took me over to see how the county courts worked.

I remember an attorney coming up to me in court and asking me, "Are you the attorney of the day?" Not familiar with the local terminology, I thought he was making some sort of crack about the longevity of young prosecutors.  I gave him a dirty look and he walked away, confused.

That afternoon, I had my first exciting JP docket in front of Judge David Patronella.  I got lost getting there, and when I first arrived, Adam Brown was already talking to people on the docket.  I introduced myself to him and then I sat down.  I looked at the huge bucket of speeding tickets and other traffic violations and I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.

"Um, hey," I said to Adam.  "What am I supposed to be doing?"

"You'll have to figure it out," he said.  "That's why they pay you the big bucks."

I thought Adam was maybe the biggest asshole I'd ever met in my life.  Luckily, the clerks helped me, because I had no clue.  I was miserable.

It was a terrible first day.  I remember going home, consoling myself with the plan that I was going to honor my 3-year commitment to the Office and then go back home to Brazos County and hopefully run for District Attorney there someday.

My, how plans change.

Over the next few days, I'd meet the other guys in JP.  I met Bill Exley, who sternly warned me to never jaywalk, because Mr. Holmes would fire you if he ever caught you doing that.  I met Robert Summerlin, who would become my practical joking arch-nemesis for years to come.  Peter Deleef was the congenial and very odd guy from South Africa.  John Jordan, who bore a striking resemblance to NASCAR racer Jeff Gordon, yet was the slowest driver I had ever seen in my life.  Earl Musick, the retired HPD cop, who entertained us with stories of the old days.  And my first chief, now-Judge Brad Hart.

Over the next months, the seven of us and our chief became an extremely tight-knit group (even Adam).  Earl came up with the nickname of The Magnificent Seven, which ultimately got shortened to The Seven.  We all thought we were awesome.  I'm pretty sure the rest of the Office thought we were arrogant jackasses.  I feel that way because a lot of other prosecutors told us we were a bunch of arrogant jackasses.

But man, we loved being prosecutors.

L-R:  Me, Adam, Bill, Peter, John & Brad at one of my 

many bachelor parties.

It's funny how quickly time goes by.  It doesn't seem like it was 18 years ago when I first started, but so much has changed. I never talk to my friend Chance anymore. I got divorced from that first wife.  Remarried.  Had a kid.  Divorced again.  Remarried again. (Hopefully, I'm holding steady on that front.) Had another kid. (Hopefully holding steady on that front, too.)

Eventually, the majority of "the Seven" left the D.A.'s Office.  The only one of us still working there is John.  Brad is Judge Hart now, and the rest of us all went on to private practice.  I saw Exley yesterday in court, and I told him he looks a year older every time I see him -- although I knew I wasn't really one to talk about aging poorly.

Every once in awhile I'll get asked if I would ever go back to prosecuting.  I say I don't really miss the job itself, but I miss the camaraderie.  I'm always glad when I see younger prosecutors hanging out with each other these days because it reminds me that no matter how many times the regime changes, that camaraderie is still there.  

There have been a lot of ups and downs over the last 18 years, but, man, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.  Those early years were some of the best.

Hell, I even enjoyed hanging out with that asshole Adam Brown.

Me and Adam in New Orleans - October 2002