On July 28, I was pulled over by a motorcycle cop, who tagged me with a laser coming off the Bybee Boulevard overpass doing 39 in a 25 zone.
On August 27, I plead Not Guilty, which, in Oregon, has the effect of requesting a trial date.
On October 8, I received noticed of my trial date, time, and location.
I didn't give it much thought until yesterday. I found a site on the net that offers a lot of detail about fighting speeding tickets: http://www.norman-law.com/page6.html.
So I spent a few hours pouring over it. I was hoping the officer wouldn't show up in court to testify, but prepared some questions anyway. Why not? Everyone wants his day in court. At best, I'd be acquitted. At worst, my spotless driving record would be smudged, I'd have to pay the full fine, and perhaps endure a higher insurance rate.
My trial was set for 1:30 pm today. As was Mr. Ciao's, Mr. Chavez's, Ms. Franklin's, and a couple dozen others. Judge Lawrence was a merciful, avuncular gent - soft spoken, but firm. He ran through the docket in alphabetical order, so my case was still pending when a second bailiff came in from the hall about 2:30. After a brief consultation, Judge Lawrence announced that Judge Albrecht's docket had cleared, and that Judge had offered to take on a few of his cases. He sent three cases all brought by the same officer, including mine, over to Judge Albrecht's court.
The move disheartened me a bit. By being near the end of Judge Lawrence's docket, I'd had the benefit of an hour of noting the 'script' the officers use to testify (date, time, device used, certification, etc), and observing Judge Lawrence's demeanor. I also thought I'd have a pretty good chance of acquittal, or at least a reduction in fine, based on the Judge's fair deportment. Any advantage I might have gained in observing Judge Lawrence was nullified by the move.
We filed into Judge Albrecht's court, and took seats in the benches. Judge Albrecht entered from chambers, and the vision shocked me:
The Judge was a Lady.
And the Lady was a Goth.
Heavy set, perhaps 40, her black hair - cut in even length just above her collar, trimmed in bangs that terminated in perfect right angles - was streaked evenly every other inch with fuchsia. Her skin was pale, the lines of her eyebrows, dark and clean, and her lips, a venous dark red. Of course, her robe was black as night.
Again, the other cases preceded mine. While she was questioning one defendant, she had occasion to address the clerk seated to her left. The turn of her head revealed a cross, perhaps two inches in length, assembled from silver beads, dangling from her right ear. I was sitting in the front row, in the judge's line of sight just past where the defendant sits. During this discourse with the defendant, I was watching her carefully to judge her mood. During one sixty second span, while addressing the defendant, her gaze deviated to engage mine for a second here, a second there, at least three times. Not flirty glances. More like double takes, the kind prompted by the sensation of familiarity but not recognition, like she'd seen me somewhere before, but couldn't quite pinpoint where.
Oh. Oh my. Maybe she's an SG member or visitor, and had seen my profile.
Snap out of it! Pay attention to the proceeding, not the judge!
She was fair. In this case preceding mine, she sided with the defendant who was charged with a violation in a work zone, doubling the fine. The defendant challenged the double fine because it was 11:30 at night, the orange cones had been set off to the side, and there were no workers present. The code stipulates that the absence of workers does not diminish or negate the definition of a marked work zone. The judge ruled that given the time of day, the position of the cones, and the absence of workers, the doubling of the fine was unjustified.
My case was the last on the docket. The officer testified, then I cross-examined him, focusing on his ability to follow the steps of standard procedure - visually assess that a vehicle appears to be exceeding the posted speed, then activate the laser gun.
And I thought it was going my way. The officer conceded that there were obstructions in the line of site between where he first saw my vehicle and where he took the laser reading. In a previous case, he testified that he had made the visual assessment by observing that the target vehicle was gaining on the vehicle in front of it. In my case, he testified that my vehicle was the only one visible traveling east. I asked him how he made the assessment in the absence of a reference point like a vehicle in front of or behind me. The officer said he could make the assessment based on the fact that he had been monitoring traffic in that spot long enough to have established a reasonably accurate visual assessment in reference to fixed points in his line of sight.
I then turned to the range of vision. From his position, he estimated that the distance between his position and the crest of the overpass was 400 to 600 feet. He took the reading when my vehicle was 241 ft from his position. At 40 MPH, a car travels about 60 feet in one second. At best he had 360 feet or six seconds to make his visual assessment, raise his laser gun from it's resting position on his lap, aim it accurately, and squeeze the trigger. At worst, he had 160 feet or two and a half seconds to do all that.
I tried to make the case that the officer's ability to follow procedure was impaired by obstructions in the line of sight, and that the short range of distance and time in which he was able to make the visual assessment supported reasonable doubt as to his execution of procedure.
Didn't fly with the judge, though. She found me guilty, and asked me if I had anything to say before sentencing.
The first thing that teetered on the tip of my tongue was, "Are the nipples on those healthy round breasts pierced?", with "Got any tats under that robe?" poised right behind.
But I didn't think those would mitigate the sentence, so I fell back on a less dramatic but more pragmatic reference to my spotless ten-year driving record. The judge reduced my fine by half, which is probably what she would have done without all my cross-examination.
Judge, if you're lurking here at SG, drop me a line. I'm hoping you can straighten me out in chambers on a few of your procedures.
On August 27, I plead Not Guilty, which, in Oregon, has the effect of requesting a trial date.
On October 8, I received noticed of my trial date, time, and location.
I didn't give it much thought until yesterday. I found a site on the net that offers a lot of detail about fighting speeding tickets: http://www.norman-law.com/page6.html.
So I spent a few hours pouring over it. I was hoping the officer wouldn't show up in court to testify, but prepared some questions anyway. Why not? Everyone wants his day in court. At best, I'd be acquitted. At worst, my spotless driving record would be smudged, I'd have to pay the full fine, and perhaps endure a higher insurance rate.
My trial was set for 1:30 pm today. As was Mr. Ciao's, Mr. Chavez's, Ms. Franklin's, and a couple dozen others. Judge Lawrence was a merciful, avuncular gent - soft spoken, but firm. He ran through the docket in alphabetical order, so my case was still pending when a second bailiff came in from the hall about 2:30. After a brief consultation, Judge Lawrence announced that Judge Albrecht's docket had cleared, and that Judge had offered to take on a few of his cases. He sent three cases all brought by the same officer, including mine, over to Judge Albrecht's court.
The move disheartened me a bit. By being near the end of Judge Lawrence's docket, I'd had the benefit of an hour of noting the 'script' the officers use to testify (date, time, device used, certification, etc), and observing Judge Lawrence's demeanor. I also thought I'd have a pretty good chance of acquittal, or at least a reduction in fine, based on the Judge's fair deportment. Any advantage I might have gained in observing Judge Lawrence was nullified by the move.
We filed into Judge Albrecht's court, and took seats in the benches. Judge Albrecht entered from chambers, and the vision shocked me:
The Judge was a Lady.
And the Lady was a Goth.
Heavy set, perhaps 40, her black hair - cut in even length just above her collar, trimmed in bangs that terminated in perfect right angles - was streaked evenly every other inch with fuchsia. Her skin was pale, the lines of her eyebrows, dark and clean, and her lips, a venous dark red. Of course, her robe was black as night.
Again, the other cases preceded mine. While she was questioning one defendant, she had occasion to address the clerk seated to her left. The turn of her head revealed a cross, perhaps two inches in length, assembled from silver beads, dangling from her right ear. I was sitting in the front row, in the judge's line of sight just past where the defendant sits. During this discourse with the defendant, I was watching her carefully to judge her mood. During one sixty second span, while addressing the defendant, her gaze deviated to engage mine for a second here, a second there, at least three times. Not flirty glances. More like double takes, the kind prompted by the sensation of familiarity but not recognition, like she'd seen me somewhere before, but couldn't quite pinpoint where.
Oh. Oh my. Maybe she's an SG member or visitor, and had seen my profile.
Snap out of it! Pay attention to the proceeding, not the judge!
She was fair. In this case preceding mine, she sided with the defendant who was charged with a violation in a work zone, doubling the fine. The defendant challenged the double fine because it was 11:30 at night, the orange cones had been set off to the side, and there were no workers present. The code stipulates that the absence of workers does not diminish or negate the definition of a marked work zone. The judge ruled that given the time of day, the position of the cones, and the absence of workers, the doubling of the fine was unjustified.
My case was the last on the docket. The officer testified, then I cross-examined him, focusing on his ability to follow the steps of standard procedure - visually assess that a vehicle appears to be exceeding the posted speed, then activate the laser gun.
And I thought it was going my way. The officer conceded that there were obstructions in the line of site between where he first saw my vehicle and where he took the laser reading. In a previous case, he testified that he had made the visual assessment by observing that the target vehicle was gaining on the vehicle in front of it. In my case, he testified that my vehicle was the only one visible traveling east. I asked him how he made the assessment in the absence of a reference point like a vehicle in front of or behind me. The officer said he could make the assessment based on the fact that he had been monitoring traffic in that spot long enough to have established a reasonably accurate visual assessment in reference to fixed points in his line of sight.
I then turned to the range of vision. From his position, he estimated that the distance between his position and the crest of the overpass was 400 to 600 feet. He took the reading when my vehicle was 241 ft from his position. At 40 MPH, a car travels about 60 feet in one second. At best he had 360 feet or six seconds to make his visual assessment, raise his laser gun from it's resting position on his lap, aim it accurately, and squeeze the trigger. At worst, he had 160 feet or two and a half seconds to do all that.
I tried to make the case that the officer's ability to follow procedure was impaired by obstructions in the line of sight, and that the short range of distance and time in which he was able to make the visual assessment supported reasonable doubt as to his execution of procedure.
Didn't fly with the judge, though. She found me guilty, and asked me if I had anything to say before sentencing.
The first thing that teetered on the tip of my tongue was, "Are the nipples on those healthy round breasts pierced?", with "Got any tats under that robe?" poised right behind.
But I didn't think those would mitigate the sentence, so I fell back on a less dramatic but more pragmatic reference to my spotless ten-year driving record. The judge reduced my fine by half, which is probably what she would have done without all my cross-examination.
Judge, if you're lurking here at SG, drop me a line. I'm hoping you can straighten me out in chambers on a few of your procedures.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
morgan:
Thank you for those quotes...they made my day.
morgan:
Where do you get all those wonderful quotes?