Normally, criminal law attorneys (whether prosecutors or defense attorneys) don't get all that wrapped up in State Bar elections. Usually the candidates that are running are civil lawyers that we criminal law folks have never encountered in a professional setting.
This year, however, that has changed with Tyler-based Criminal Defense Attorney, Buck Files, running for president of the State Bar.
I don't know Mr. Files, personally, but I have gotten numerous endorsements of him from both defense attorneys and prosecutors. My understanding is that, if elected, Mr. Files would become the first Bar President to serve who worked in primarily in the criminal law arena.
So, if you haven't voted in the Bar Election, please hurry up and do so. It is a rare opportunity for those of us who practice in the CJC to have our interests represented by one of our own.
You can vote by going to this website: https://www.vres.us/webapps/vwr2047.pgm?query=2
The deadline is May 2nd.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tonight's Reasonable Doubt (4/28/11)
Todd Dupont and I will be back on the air tonight with Reasonable Doubt at 8 p.m.. Our guest will be the Reverend John Craig Still. As always, you can watch it online by clicking here.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
New Chronicle Blog Post
This is probably the most untechnological way of "linking a blog", but there is a new post on my Chronicle website about Charles Sebesta and the Anthony Graves case. You can get there by clicking here.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Todd Dupont's Eulogy for Tody Dupont
For those of you unable to attend Tody Dupont's Memorial Service last week, you missed a very heartfelt and heartwarming eulogy given to him by his son, Todd. Todd did an amazing job of saying goodbye to his father, law partner and friend. I don't believe I could have done the same thing in his shoes, and I greatly admire him for his delivery of this eulogy:
Thank you all for coming. And “thank you” First Baptist Church, for allowing us the privilege and honor of being able to formally remember Tody in a place he called home. I am speaking on behalf of all of our family today. I have written many summations in my legal career. But, having to prepare a eulogy, a summation, for our father’s–my law partner’s–incredible life has truly been daunting.
The truth of the matter is I have always, secretly, hoped to be able to have a lifetime to draft these words. Yet, God had something else in mind. As one can understand, either through imagination or, worse, experience, the loss of one’s father is traumatic–especially when the death is untimely. As I stand before you, please know that my family and I, like the rest of you here, are stunned by his early departure for Heaven. We are deeply saddened. Most of all, we are profoundly heartbroken. If I could have but one wish, right now, my wish would be to have him back.
I would hastily arm-wrestle God for him.
Aeschylus wrote: “In our sleep pain which cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.” I sure wish I could rush that process.
My father was born on March 4, 1945, in a small Louisiana town, named Plaquemine. When he was born, Roosevelt was President, Finland had just declared war on Nazi-Germany, and Bing Crosby played on the radio. Bread was 9¢ a loaf, milk 62¢ a gallon, and a gallon of gas cost 21¢–for those that had cars. Money was non-existent, Jim Crow laws were the norm in the deep South, and inequality was the standard operating procedure. There were little chances of success for most people, including my father.
As it was in my father’s case, if you were going to make it, you had to do it on your own. With your own two hands. In those times, in that setting, no one gave you anything, unless you earned it.
What the world didn’t really understand at that time, was that this is all the opportunity that a man named Thomas Barker Dupont would ever need.
The rest is history.
Before I begin, I suspect many of you, like me, might be interested in understanding exactly WHY he was nicknamed Tody? It’s such an unique, almost obscure, name. I’ve never met another person named Tody. Have you? Many people, who first met him, would need for him to repeat himself, because it such an uncommon name. The true answer is, the jury is still out. Some of his siblings say it was because he was to be nicknamed “Tommy”, but they could only pronounce “Tody.” Others say it was because, as a child, he had no aversion to picking up toad frogs, and carrying them around. I’ve always heard he liked to bounce around a lot as a child. Nevertheless, the name stuck; and as a human, Tody would prove to be as unique as this unusual nickname.
As a child, young adult, and even as a man, I have always remained curious and fascinated by my father. As a child, I would sneak in to watch him shave. As I grew older, in the places that I went in life, if someone knew Tody, I would stop what I was doing, and talk to them as long as I could, to fill in the blanks. I would venture to speculate that this phenomenon has happened to all of us here. Tody had an aura that beamed from him, and that attracted you to him. No matter your age. Or gender. Very few human beings have been blessed with this quality..but Tody was.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Tody had more than his fair share of quirks: he loved burnt bread (because that’s how his mama made it). He loved to float in water, swim, and scuba dive. Dad knew where every Ace was in a deck of cards. He was an voracious reader, and loved to go to the movies. He was easy to buy a gift for because all he ever asked for was movie gift cards. In fact, he loved to talk on his cell phone in the movie theater, while the movie was playing. I would call, and he would answer while the movie was playing, I would immediately hang up, being embarrassed for him!
But he didn’t care. Blissful oblivion, I suppose.
Tody loved to play Santa Claus, and bring joy to children. He loved to make children happy. This tickled his heart, in a way that only matter to him. Tody loved to dress to the occasion. You should have seen his closet. Interestingly, he is largely responsible for my clothing habits–especially in the courtroom–though we do have different taste in shoes and ties. Tody loved to eat good food, but he literally didn’t know how to boil water. He never really needed to. My dad personalized everything. I have never encountered another man, like my father, who loved to personalize his personal effects. This might help you understand where this “D” ring came from.
Regardless, I am sure that my sisters would agree with me when I say that we have always been compelled to please our father. We wanted his approval. We wanted his acceptance. We wanted his smile and nod when we did something that pleased him.
We went out of our way to please him. Yet, Tody also taught us many more important things about life. Tody’s word, truly, was his bond, and he preferred, if at all possible, to operate on a handshake–even in the age of one-inch thick, small-typed contracts. Tody could be trusted. If he told you he was going to do something, he did it. Conversely, If he told you he wouldn’t, he didn’t. It was really that simple for him. And that was both refreshing and reassuring for the rest of us. Tody believed in the ballot box. He fundamentally believed in the democratic process. In his core. I suspect he early-voted in every election he has voted in since he was able to vote. Tody was concerned about racism. Prejudice. Inequality. Injustice.
The truth of the matter is I have always, secretly, hoped to be able to have a lifetime to draft these words. Yet, God had something else in mind. As one can understand, either through imagination or, worse, experience, the loss of one’s father is traumatic–especially when the death is untimely. As I stand before you, please know that my family and I, like the rest of you here, are stunned by his early departure for Heaven. We are deeply saddened. Most of all, we are profoundly heartbroken. If I could have but one wish, right now, my wish would be to have him back.
I would hastily arm-wrestle God for him.
Aeschylus wrote: “In our sleep pain which cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.” I sure wish I could rush that process.
My father was born on March 4, 1945, in a small Louisiana town, named Plaquemine. When he was born, Roosevelt was President, Finland had just declared war on Nazi-Germany, and Bing Crosby played on the radio. Bread was 9¢ a loaf, milk 62¢ a gallon, and a gallon of gas cost 21¢–for those that had cars. Money was non-existent, Jim Crow laws were the norm in the deep South, and inequality was the standard operating procedure. There were little chances of success for most people, including my father.
As it was in my father’s case, if you were going to make it, you had to do it on your own. With your own two hands. In those times, in that setting, no one gave you anything, unless you earned it.
What the world didn’t really understand at that time, was that this is all the opportunity that a man named Thomas Barker Dupont would ever need.
The rest is history.
Before I begin, I suspect many of you, like me, might be interested in understanding exactly WHY he was nicknamed Tody? It’s such an unique, almost obscure, name. I’ve never met another person named Tody. Have you? Many people, who first met him, would need for him to repeat himself, because it such an uncommon name. The true answer is, the jury is still out. Some of his siblings say it was because he was to be nicknamed “Tommy”, but they could only pronounce “Tody.” Others say it was because, as a child, he had no aversion to picking up toad frogs, and carrying them around. I’ve always heard he liked to bounce around a lot as a child. Nevertheless, the name stuck; and as a human, Tody would prove to be as unique as this unusual nickname.
As a child, young adult, and even as a man, I have always remained curious and fascinated by my father. As a child, I would sneak in to watch him shave. As I grew older, in the places that I went in life, if someone knew Tody, I would stop what I was doing, and talk to them as long as I could, to fill in the blanks. I would venture to speculate that this phenomenon has happened to all of us here. Tody had an aura that beamed from him, and that attracted you to him. No matter your age. Or gender. Very few human beings have been blessed with this quality..but Tody was.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Tody had more than his fair share of quirks: he loved burnt bread (because that’s how his mama made it). He loved to float in water, swim, and scuba dive. Dad knew where every Ace was in a deck of cards. He was an voracious reader, and loved to go to the movies. He was easy to buy a gift for because all he ever asked for was movie gift cards. In fact, he loved to talk on his cell phone in the movie theater, while the movie was playing. I would call, and he would answer while the movie was playing, I would immediately hang up, being embarrassed for him!
But he didn’t care. Blissful oblivion, I suppose.
Tody loved to play Santa Claus, and bring joy to children. He loved to make children happy. This tickled his heart, in a way that only matter to him. Tody loved to dress to the occasion. You should have seen his closet. Interestingly, he is largely responsible for my clothing habits–especially in the courtroom–though we do have different taste in shoes and ties. Tody loved to eat good food, but he literally didn’t know how to boil water. He never really needed to. My dad personalized everything. I have never encountered another man, like my father, who loved to personalize his personal effects. This might help you understand where this “D” ring came from.
Regardless, I am sure that my sisters would agree with me when I say that we have always been compelled to please our father. We wanted his approval. We wanted his acceptance. We wanted his smile and nod when we did something that pleased him.
We went out of our way to please him. Yet, Tody also taught us many more important things about life. Tody’s word, truly, was his bond, and he preferred, if at all possible, to operate on a handshake–even in the age of one-inch thick, small-typed contracts. Tody could be trusted. If he told you he was going to do something, he did it. Conversely, If he told you he wouldn’t, he didn’t. It was really that simple for him. And that was both refreshing and reassuring for the rest of us. Tody believed in the ballot box. He fundamentally believed in the democratic process. In his core. I suspect he early-voted in every election he has voted in since he was able to vote. Tody was concerned about racism. Prejudice. Inequality. Injustice.
Deep down, Tody was hardwired to fight for the disadvantaged and the weak. The outnumbered. This is where he found strength. Resolve. This is what got him out of bed each morning.
Simply put, Tody loved being a lawyer. To him, the words “Tody” and “lawyer” are synonymous. Tody was his profession. He worked 7 days and week. He worked in his sleep. Tody was 100% committed to profession of being a lawyer. Serving his clients needs. He was 100% committed to ethics. Standards. Professionalism. In an age where competition in the law is fierce, Tody was old school, by even old school standards. Dad didn’t know how to use a computer, nor did he really want to. He hand wrote everything. If he had it his way, we would all still be using IBM typewriters, white out, and legal-sized carbon paper. And I still don’t know what this means to this day, and I have worked for the man since I was 15, but every motion or document that he has worked on, he had saved on “tape.” Tody had a method. HIS method. A method that only HE understood, and the rest of us would bang our heads trying to decipher.
Simply put, Tody loved being a lawyer. To him, the words “Tody” and “lawyer” are synonymous. Tody was his profession. He worked 7 days and week. He worked in his sleep. Tody was 100% committed to profession of being a lawyer. Serving his clients needs. He was 100% committed to ethics. Standards. Professionalism. In an age where competition in the law is fierce, Tody was old school, by even old school standards. Dad didn’t know how to use a computer, nor did he really want to. He hand wrote everything. If he had it his way, we would all still be using IBM typewriters, white out, and legal-sized carbon paper. And I still don’t know what this means to this day, and I have worked for the man since I was 15, but every motion or document that he has worked on, he had saved on “tape.” Tody had a method. HIS method. A method that only HE understood, and the rest of us would bang our heads trying to decipher.
God forbid you moved anything in his office.
His office, literally, had stacks and stacks of paperwork...all over the place. And he, and he alone, knew where it all went. Tody did not believe in winning at all costs. Tody believed in winning by outworking his adversary. Believe me when I tell you, he has won his fair share of cases; and, he also lost many a case–and when he did, he would lose with dignity. But if you did get lucky to beat dad, I would guarantee that he made you work for it. Tody wanted to change people’s lives through the law. He could read a newspaper, and find five different lawsuits waiting to happen, before most people have had their morning coffee.
He saw the world differently than most people. He saw the world through the lens of a lawyer. He dreamed bigger than the rest of us. He thought longer than the rest of us. He fought harder than the rest of us.
Tody taught me to fundamentally care about being a lawyer, and to pay close attention to the details. Look for and see the things that are before you, but also look for and find the things that aren’t. Those are the things that would make the difference.
I am also proud to say that no matter where I went in life, if I met someone who knew my dad, they always had something nice to say about him. I can’t count the number of times, after these encounters, that I would swell with pride, knowing I was this man’s son. I am confident my sisters feel the same way. Even his adversaries liked him. And he like them–especially if he respected them.
The only way I can attempt to describe what my father was like to us is by comparing him to a safety net. There was simply no question that if we needed something, or even if we didn’t, he was there. He was a constant in our lives. Much like the sun. Being faced with the fact that the sun will no longer be coming up in our sky is a concept that we can’t comprehend yet.
Even though we are all just at the beginning of the grieving process, my overriding fear is that this will be the one thing that we are all going to miss the most. The world is a better place for Tody Dupont having lived. Tody Dupont was unique. One-of-a-kind. There will never be another like him...not in my life time, and probably not in yours.
Chris Sorenson wrote: “No one ever really dies as long as they took the time to leave us with fond memories.” Some of you knew Tody personally. Some in passing. Other’s may have only heard folklore. Regardless, I think we could all agree that there will never be a human being who knew Tody who will be able to accuse him of failing to do this.
Whether intentional or otherwise, Dad, you planted those seeds in the depths of our subconsciousness when we weren’t even looking.
From this day, this hour, this minute forward, remember Tody the way HE would want you to remember him.
His office, literally, had stacks and stacks of paperwork...all over the place. And he, and he alone, knew where it all went. Tody did not believe in winning at all costs. Tody believed in winning by outworking his adversary. Believe me when I tell you, he has won his fair share of cases; and, he also lost many a case–and when he did, he would lose with dignity. But if you did get lucky to beat dad, I would guarantee that he made you work for it. Tody wanted to change people’s lives through the law. He could read a newspaper, and find five different lawsuits waiting to happen, before most people have had their morning coffee.
He saw the world differently than most people. He saw the world through the lens of a lawyer. He dreamed bigger than the rest of us. He thought longer than the rest of us. He fought harder than the rest of us.
Tody taught me to fundamentally care about being a lawyer, and to pay close attention to the details. Look for and see the things that are before you, but also look for and find the things that aren’t. Those are the things that would make the difference.
I am also proud to say that no matter where I went in life, if I met someone who knew my dad, they always had something nice to say about him. I can’t count the number of times, after these encounters, that I would swell with pride, knowing I was this man’s son. I am confident my sisters feel the same way. Even his adversaries liked him. And he like them–especially if he respected them.
The only way I can attempt to describe what my father was like to us is by comparing him to a safety net. There was simply no question that if we needed something, or even if we didn’t, he was there. He was a constant in our lives. Much like the sun. Being faced with the fact that the sun will no longer be coming up in our sky is a concept that we can’t comprehend yet.
Even though we are all just at the beginning of the grieving process, my overriding fear is that this will be the one thing that we are all going to miss the most. The world is a better place for Tody Dupont having lived. Tody Dupont was unique. One-of-a-kind. There will never be another like him...not in my life time, and probably not in yours.
Chris Sorenson wrote: “No one ever really dies as long as they took the time to leave us with fond memories.” Some of you knew Tody personally. Some in passing. Other’s may have only heard folklore. Regardless, I think we could all agree that there will never be a human being who knew Tody who will be able to accuse him of failing to do this.
Whether intentional or otherwise, Dad, you planted those seeds in the depths of our subconsciousness when we weren’t even looking.
From this day, this hour, this minute forward, remember Tody the way HE would want you to remember him.
Remember the cases that he won or the cases that he lost, and his vigor to litigate his cases to juries in the courtroom.
Remember his love of politics, civil liberties, and community service.
Remember his compassion for justice, and his remarkable and unselfish generosity towards his fellow man.
Remember his zest for life.
When you leave here, and head back on the road of your own journey through life, and find yourself with a spare minute to think about Tody, pause to think about HIM thinking about his next big lawsuit...his disarrayed files, scribbled notes, newspaper clippings, and yellow legal pads scattered about.
Think about his disarming charisma, and deceptive charm.
Think about his affable Cajun accent, peppered throughout his lengthy legal narratives or majestic storytelling.
Think about him blushing when you complimented him.
Think about and his infectious laugh.
Think about his smile.
This is what he would want you to do for him. At the cost of all that you leave behind, dad, you have achieved immortality. We love you dearly; we will miss you sorely; and, thanks to you, we will never forget you.
Rest in eternal peace, dad.
Remember his love of politics, civil liberties, and community service.
Remember his compassion for justice, and his remarkable and unselfish generosity towards his fellow man.
Remember his zest for life.
When you leave here, and head back on the road of your own journey through life, and find yourself with a spare minute to think about Tody, pause to think about HIM thinking about his next big lawsuit...his disarrayed files, scribbled notes, newspaper clippings, and yellow legal pads scattered about.
Think about his disarming charisma, and deceptive charm.
Think about his affable Cajun accent, peppered throughout his lengthy legal narratives or majestic storytelling.
Think about him blushing when you complimented him.
Think about and his infectious laugh.
Think about his smile.
This is what he would want you to do for him. At the cost of all that you leave behind, dad, you have achieved immortality. We love you dearly; we will miss you sorely; and, thanks to you, we will never forget you.
Rest in eternal peace, dad.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Mr. Casey Goes to Jury Duty
Rick Casey has a column in today's Chronicle about his recent experience of serving on a jury panel in the 182nd on a drug case. It is a well-written column, but I can't help but notice how genuinely amazed Casey seems to be with the process of voir dire. It strikes me as rather ironic that he would seem so out of his element in jury selection considering how often he writes with such authority and indignation over the way "the System" works.
Casey interprets his experience on the jury panel as something very telling of the community's thoughts on the "Drug War", when in reality, it sounds like just another typical day of picking a jury to me.
The article is entitled (in print) as "Conscientious objectors in the war on drugs", and he goes on to describe the First Degree Felony of Possession of a Controlled Substance with Intent to Deliver 4-200 grams as a "low grade felony".
I sincerely doubt that the Defendant on trial (who was facing up to Life in prison) would agree with that description.
He downplays the seriousness of the charge by describing the jury selection as a "fascinating three-hour seminar on how Houstonians feel about the justice system in general and the war on drugs in particular."
He details how he was shocked that they brought over 60 people for the panel, thinking that was too many for the above-mentioned "low-grade felony". He then marvels at how (after strikes for Cause had been made), the attorneys reached all the way to Juror # 55 on the panel. This, Casey seems to imply, is due to the controversiality of the "Drug War".
Rick, my friend, that happens on every case, I hate to break it to you.
Try picking a jury on a murder case where self-defense is an issue, or a jailhouse snitch or co-defendant will be testifying. Or perhaps a domestic violence case where the complainant no longer wants to prosecute. Want to really see potential jurors get struck for cause? Observe a sexual assault of a child case where the act was consensual but the age difference made it illegal.
Contrary to some of Mr. Casey's prior articles, the Judges, Prosecutors and Defense Attorneys around the Harris County CJC usually have some idea as to what they are doing. They know that they need to pull about 65 prospective jurors on any felony trial because every felony case is chocked full of legal issues that you might never think of.
Hell, Rifi Newaz and I busted six jury panels trying to select a jury on one murder case. And the case had nothing to do with drugs, believe it or not!
Casey goes on to list many of the reasons that the potential jurors were struck for Cause. He details jurors who had bad prior experiences with law enforcement, those who would hold it against the Defendant if he didn't testify, and those who didn't want to participate if they didn't have a say in sentencing (upon conviction).
He makes note of one gentleman who talked in detail about the effectiveness of the "Drug War", and then jumps to the following conclusion.
He just detailed how about twenty people got struck for Cause for various and sundry reasons like 5th Amendment issues and sentencing issues, and then leaps to the idea that of the 23 people struck for Cause that it was based on them finding "fault with the way the justice system deals with drug offenders"?
I don't follow his logic. Nor his math.
He only mentioned one or two people who were taken off the panel due to "Drug War"-related questions.
He also goes on to point out that both the Defense and the Prosecution were "able to dismiss up to 10 [jurors] without offering any reason" as if that were some sort of ominous back-room deal designed to do something unseemly. Uh, Rick, those are called Peremptory Strikes, and nobody who practices criminal law really seems to mind them being around. The Code of Criminal Procedure kind of provides for them.
I guess in the end, I have to commend Mr. Casey for actually attending a Voir Dire and trying to learn from his experience, but damn, if this was a science project, I'd have to give him a failing grade. I'm not debating the validity of the Drug War here, but when you have such faulty conclusions drawn from his experience, he greatly diminishes his credibility in his analysis.
For more on Voir Dire and the Strikes for Cause, you can click here.
Casey interprets his experience on the jury panel as something very telling of the community's thoughts on the "Drug War", when in reality, it sounds like just another typical day of picking a jury to me.
The article is entitled (in print) as "Conscientious objectors in the war on drugs", and he goes on to describe the First Degree Felony of Possession of a Controlled Substance with Intent to Deliver 4-200 grams as a "low grade felony".
I sincerely doubt that the Defendant on trial (who was facing up to Life in prison) would agree with that description.
He downplays the seriousness of the charge by describing the jury selection as a "fascinating three-hour seminar on how Houstonians feel about the justice system in general and the war on drugs in particular."
He details how he was shocked that they brought over 60 people for the panel, thinking that was too many for the above-mentioned "low-grade felony". He then marvels at how (after strikes for Cause had been made), the attorneys reached all the way to Juror # 55 on the panel. This, Casey seems to imply, is due to the controversiality of the "Drug War".
Rick, my friend, that happens on every case, I hate to break it to you.
Try picking a jury on a murder case where self-defense is an issue, or a jailhouse snitch or co-defendant will be testifying. Or perhaps a domestic violence case where the complainant no longer wants to prosecute. Want to really see potential jurors get struck for cause? Observe a sexual assault of a child case where the act was consensual but the age difference made it illegal.
Contrary to some of Mr. Casey's prior articles, the Judges, Prosecutors and Defense Attorneys around the Harris County CJC usually have some idea as to what they are doing. They know that they need to pull about 65 prospective jurors on any felony trial because every felony case is chocked full of legal issues that you might never think of.
Hell, Rifi Newaz and I busted six jury panels trying to select a jury on one murder case. And the case had nothing to do with drugs, believe it or not!
Casey goes on to list many of the reasons that the potential jurors were struck for Cause. He details jurors who had bad prior experiences with law enforcement, those who would hold it against the Defendant if he didn't testify, and those who didn't want to participate if they didn't have a say in sentencing (upon conviction).
He makes note of one gentleman who talked in detail about the effectiveness of the "Drug War", and then jumps to the following conclusion.
But the overwhelming message was that about a fifth of the pool couldn't in good conscience take part because they found fault with the way the justice system deals with drug offenders. They were, in effect, conscientious objectors in the war on drugs.Wait. Huh?
He just detailed how about twenty people got struck for Cause for various and sundry reasons like 5th Amendment issues and sentencing issues, and then leaps to the idea that of the 23 people struck for Cause that it was based on them finding "fault with the way the justice system deals with drug offenders"?
I don't follow his logic. Nor his math.
He only mentioned one or two people who were taken off the panel due to "Drug War"-related questions.
He also goes on to point out that both the Defense and the Prosecution were "able to dismiss up to 10 [jurors] without offering any reason" as if that were some sort of ominous back-room deal designed to do something unseemly. Uh, Rick, those are called Peremptory Strikes, and nobody who practices criminal law really seems to mind them being around. The Code of Criminal Procedure kind of provides for them.
I guess in the end, I have to commend Mr. Casey for actually attending a Voir Dire and trying to learn from his experience, but damn, if this was a science project, I'd have to give him a failing grade. I'm not debating the validity of the Drug War here, but when you have such faulty conclusions drawn from his experience, he greatly diminishes his credibility in his analysis.
For more on Voir Dire and the Strikes for Cause, you can click here.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
New Post on the Chronicle Blog
I've been totally slipping in my duties as a two-timing blogger. I've been trying to keep up on this website, but the one over at the Chronicle has been lagging.
But, I do have a new post over there that I just put up about Fly-By-Night Internet Law Firms giving out bad legal advice to people seeking to "Clear" their records.
You can check it out by clicking here.
But, I do have a new post over there that I just put up about Fly-By-Night Internet Law Firms giving out bad legal advice to people seeking to "Clear" their records.
You can check it out by clicking here.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Joe Roach
We were all saddened to learn today of the passing of Joe Roach, a long-time defense attorney, former prosecutor, and Houston City Councilman.
Joe was a familiar face at the CJC and was well-known advocate for his clients. He was smart, persistent and good in trial.
At the time I first met him, he was long since past his days as a prosecutor and a City Council member, but he loved to tell stories about his time with the Office. If I recall correctly, he told me that he had made Felony Chief in under four years.
He always had a kind word and always asked about my son. I always appreciated that. I will miss seeing him around the courthouse.
My condolences go out to his wife and three children.
Joe was a familiar face at the CJC and was well-known advocate for his clients. He was smart, persistent and good in trial.
At the time I first met him, he was long since past his days as a prosecutor and a City Council member, but he loved to tell stories about his time with the Office. If I recall correctly, he told me that he had made Felony Chief in under four years.
He always had a kind word and always asked about my son. I always appreciated that. I will miss seeing him around the courthouse.
My condolences go out to his wife and three children.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Memorial Service for Tody Dupont
A Memorial Service for Tody Dupont has been tentatively set for Tuesday, April 19th at 10:00 a.m. at 1st Baptist Church of Houston.
I will keep this post updated with details and any possible changes to this plan.
I will keep this post updated with details and any possible changes to this plan.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Tody Dupont
I'm sorry to report that our Criminal Justice Community has lost one of its long-time members today with the passing of defense attorney Tody Dupont. Mr. Dupont was the father of one of my best friends, Todd Dupont, who practiced with his Dad. He had been in a car accident earlier this month, but his prognosis had been positive. Today's news is just as surprising as it is sad.
I wish I could fill a long post here with stories of Mr. Dupont, but I actually only personally met him once or twice at the crawfish cookouts that he and Todd threw together. I did know his reputation as one of the well-known legends of Decades Past. Most of your seasoned attorneys around the CJC knew Mr. Dupont and spoke very highly of him.
But more importantly, I know that Todd spoke so highly of his father. Todd has always been so proud to be working with his father and loves telling stories about his Dad's cases. I'm a first-generation lawyer in my family, and I've always been envious of those lawyers that have a family history in the law -- especially criminal law.
I know that Todd treasured getting to work with his Dad for as long as he did, and was so proud to tell people that he was "Tody's boy".
In all honesty, I don't know what better tribute you could give to a Man, than those types of feelings from his son.
My heartfelt condolences go out to my friend, Todd, and all of Mr. Dupont's family. I will post funeral arrangements here as they become available.
I wish I could fill a long post here with stories of Mr. Dupont, but I actually only personally met him once or twice at the crawfish cookouts that he and Todd threw together. I did know his reputation as one of the well-known legends of Decades Past. Most of your seasoned attorneys around the CJC knew Mr. Dupont and spoke very highly of him.
But more importantly, I know that Todd spoke so highly of his father. Todd has always been so proud to be working with his father and loves telling stories about his Dad's cases. I'm a first-generation lawyer in my family, and I've always been envious of those lawyers that have a family history in the law -- especially criminal law.
I know that Todd treasured getting to work with his Dad for as long as he did, and was so proud to tell people that he was "Tody's boy".
In all honesty, I don't know what better tribute you could give to a Man, than those types of feelings from his son.
My heartfelt condolences go out to my friend, Todd, and all of Mr. Dupont's family. I will post funeral arrangements here as they become available.
Tonight's Reasonable Doubt (4/14/11)
Tonight's Reasonable Doubt has been cancelled due to the passing of Tody Dupont, father of our host, Todd Dupont.
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