Editor’s Note: Alan Regel has practiced criminal law so far north of the equator that less prepared lawyers would freeze their law briefs clean off. He has lawyered in places where there are no places. He has spent his career in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories of Canada, and still works with survivors of abuse there, and with aboriginal and treaty rights.
When I invited him to participate in Drunk & Disorderly, he invited me in turn to take a look at some of the pictures of conditions under which he practices.
I did, and some of those pictures are below. All the pictures are his; the crackpot taglines, mine.
Alan at the Arctic Circle. Yup, there are courts at the Arctic Circle.Cambridge Bay Nunavut where he was called to the Nunavut Bar.I always use Siri to find my way to court. Not sure it worked for Alan this time.Trial prep a tad less tedious in Coral Harbour, Nunavut.Typical drive home from court is like anywhere else — weather (-44 Celsius; -47 Fahrenheit) and traffic.
I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…
It’s hard to believe, but up until 1985 it was legal for police to shoot and kill an unarmed suspect who tried to run away. Could shoot ’em in the back. Even if the suspect was a child.
A Tennessee statute said if an officer cried “Halt!” and the 17-year-old suspect tried to hop a fence instead, the lawman could “use all the necessary means to effect the arrest.” I suppose the law was trying to protect the health of a fat cop who couldn’t give chase without risk of a heart attack, or stubbed toe.
But the Supreme Court, in Tennessee v. Garner, 471 U.S. 1, which by then had been deciding what the police could and couldn’t do for 196 years, said it was time we stop shooting fleeing and unarmed juveniles in the back. Two Justices thought we should give the police more time to get used to the idea.
We’d come a long way since 1789. Some day we may even decide it’s just not right to shoot a suspect reaching for his wallet or cell phone, even if he or she is black, or shaded that way.
I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…
The other day someone asked if there have been times over the years when I hate being a lawyer.
I’ve never had one of those days when I hate being a lawyer. There are plenty of things I do hate, but that isn’t one of them. This is what I really hate:
Police who lie on the witness stand (or anyplace else for that matter).
District attorneys who somehow can’t look past the law to see the person who has allegedly violated that law.
Judges whose scales of justice bend more weightily toward re-election than actual justice.
Lawyers whose first loyalty is to their wallets rather than to their clients.
Clients who think they can outsmart their lawyers (they probably can, but the people you want to outsmart sit on the other side of the courtroom).
And what do I really love? When I can get a cop, a DA, a judge, a lawyer, or a client to remember their humanity, and respect the long line of experiences, choices, and mistakes that brought all of them to that particular point in time we call, now.
I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…
When I sang “Scarlet Ribbons” to my children, at their bedtime, it was Harry Belafonte I was thinking of. The same with “Abraham, Martin, and John.” He could tear your heart with his voice; he tore mine, many, many times.
In the late 90s, I took the older one way past his bedtime to hear the legend sing at an age most men have retired. He was still in strong voice — Belafonte, not my son, who was four and doesn’t remember; I do.
His voice was just as strong for human rights. He was more than a friend to Martin Luther King, Jr. He marched with him, diverted a large part of his personal fortune to the civil rights movement, helped Coretta Scott King pick out the suit he was buried in.
He worked to end apartheid in South Africa; originated United Support of Artists for Africa (USA for Africa) to fight disease and famine, including with the hit song “We Are the World” for which he selflessly sang chorus from the back row; was goodwill ambassador for UNICEF to protect children’s rights everywhere.
He was part of the world for ninety-six years until his death today, and will remain part of it as long as recordings exist of that magnificent voice and memory remains of his magnificent commitment to the human family.
The album pictured above is “The Best of Harry Belafonte.”
I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…
Editor’s Note: I’m often asked, as I was today, how a lawyer can keep a straight face when pleading with a jury to acquit their extremely guilty client. So often asked, in fact, that this time I asked another to explain it instead. What follows is what they said was their closing argument in behalf of a drunk driving client who was not only merely guilty, but really most sincerely guilty.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today I stand before you to defend my client against the charge of driving under the influence.
While I understand that drunk driving is a serious and dangerous crime, I must insist that my client is, in fact, not guilty. Allow me to present my case.
Firstly, dear jurors, I would like to point out that my client was not merely driving under the influence, but in fact, he was engaging in a very elaborate and well-executed performance art piece. You see, my client is a method actor, and on that fateful evening, he was honing his skills in the role of an intoxicated driver. His commitment to the character was so deep that he even went so far as to immerse himself in the smells, tastes, and sensations associated with intoxication.
While his performance may have been astonishingly realistic, I assure you, it was just that—a performance. It is said that life imitates art, and in this case, it seems that art has imitated life a little too closely.
Furthermore, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to consider the road upon which my client was traveling. It was a desolate stretch of highway, devoid of any other motorists. In this context, his actions were less a reckless endangerment of others and more a lighthearted exploration of the limits of performance art in the public sphere. This is not to minimize the potential risks associated with driving under the influence, but rather to emphasize that, at least in this innocent role play, no harm was done.
Finally, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I must address the elephant in the room: the breathalyzer test. Yes, it is true that my client’s blood alcohol level was well above the legal limit. However, I would argue that this was not a result of his own consumption, but rather a result of the malfunctioning breathalyzer. We all know that technology can be unreliable, and on this particular occasion, it seems that the breathalyzer was in on the joke.
In conclusion, dear jurors, I humbly request that you find my client not guilty of driving under the influence. In his imaginative scenario, in which he was literally playing a role, let us embrace the humor of the situation and remember that, at least in this fictional context, no harm was done.
But, in all seriousness, drunk driving is a dangerous crime that poses a significant risk to public safety, and it should never be taken lightly. This was an actor’s deep dive into a role, and should not be interpreted as condoning or promoting drunk driving in any way.
His rather admirable dedication to his craft should not be punished with a deep dive into a hole.
Editor’s Epilogue: I never did find out if this client was found guilty or not. In all the excitement, after I directed the artificial intelligence bot GPT-4 to write a closing argument for why an extremely drunk client should be found not guilty of drunken driving, this first day of April, I forgot to ask.
