When you see something that is not right, not fair, find a way to get in the way and cause trouble. Congressman John Lewis
JUSTICE BUILDING BLOG
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
THE FAMOUS CHEER YOU UP -DEATH POST.
Monday, November 16, 2009
THE SANCTION OF THE VICTIM.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
NFL WEEK TEN
Friday, November 13, 2009
MORE ON YOU KNOW WHO
Thursday, November 12, 2009
SCOTT ROTHSTEIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS
We were working out at the gym today when Renegade by Styx popped up on our Ipod. This goes out to you....
Oh momma I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law
Lawman has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home
Oh momma I can hear you a'crying you're so scared and all alone
Hangman is comin' down from the gallows and I don't have very
long
The jig is up the news is out they've finally found me
The renegade who had it made retrieved for a bounty
Never more to go astray
This will be the end today of the wanted man...
SCOTT ROTHSTEIN -ALL DAY EVERY DAY
Bob Norman and his Daily Pulp blog have had, and continue to have the lead in breaking this story.
1) A source is going on the record with Norman that Rothstein keep a female dancer (stripper) at the Ritz Carlton on Ft. Lauderdale beach.
What does this mean? Goodbye Mrs. Rothstein. Any pretense of being the loving devoted wife standing by her man just went out the door. You can click on the Daily Pulp link to see a picture of the very blonde, soon to be former Mrs. Rothstein cozying up to Dan Marino.
2) Rothstein's new book: "How to steal 57 Million from your client" goes on sale Saturday.
The documents Rothstein gave Morse bear no case numbers, and are instead marked "Under Seal.''
The first, with a fake Marra signature, said the kitchen designer was liable to Morse for "punitive damages for fraud,'' and owed Morse $23 million. It said the designer had illegally moved millions to the Cayman Islands, but that Rothstein "has facilitated the contact between the relative governments,'' and that the money would be returned to the U.S.
The faked order demanded that Morse "deposit to their attorney's trust account the sum of $15 million no later than 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, the 20th day of March, 2009'' as a bond to secure the funds. "If such funds are not so posted,'' it went on, "this order shall be null and void. …''
"We again strongly caution all counsel and mandate that they caution and counsel their respective clients that this matter is governed by a strict confidentiality order … which this court strongly cautions, contains severe penalties for any violation of same.''
Morse never saw another penny of his money, his lawyers said.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
VETERANS DAY
BY JOHN SCHLESINGER
The morning mist hung like a shroud over the endless rows of tombstones at Arlington National Cemetery. We had come to this sacred ground this past April to bury my Uncle, Edward Kielich, with full military honors.
Emotions washed over me as I walked past the graves of Congressional Medal of Honor recipients; many of the markers provided detailed accounts of the heroism of the American soldiers who lay beneath them. So much bravery; so much sacrifice; so much honor. I suddenly felt very small and insignificant in the presence of these men and women.
As we go about our daily affairs and plow through the mundane rituals of our busy lives, we tend to forget that the freedoms we enjoy in this great nation have been purchased and preserved at a very high price by the blood of these patriots. None paid a dearer price than my Uncle Edward.
Edward Kielich was a child of the Great Depression, one of 11 brothers and sisters born to working-class parents in Buffalo, N.Y. When his father died in 1934, my grandmother was forced to go to work in a chemical factory to try to feed her family, but her meager salary wasn't enough. These were hard times in America, nothing like the inconveniences that we dare call hardship today. With 11 children to clothe, shelter and feed, something had to be done. Edward and his brothers quit high school and went to work.
A few years later when their country called them, they went to war.
The oldest brother, Henry, enlisted in the Army Air Corps after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. As a tail gunner in a B-25 bomber, he would fly 60 combat missions over Europe and North Africa, receiving the Air Medal, Distinguished Flying Cross, six oak leaf clusters and other honors. Wounded in the leg by shrapnel, he never received his Purple Heart because his captain, responsible for the paperwork, died in the same mission. Henry would make it home alive, though, and became a U.S. Customs inspector at the Canada/U.S. border. He would live a long and happy life in Western New YorkThe next oldest brother, Eugene, was drafted into the infantry in 1943 and survived the D-Day landing at Omaha Beach. Suffering from severe frostbite that would trouble him for the rest of his life, he was taken from the field after the Battle of the Bulge and honorably discharged in 1945. Eugene became a railroad supervisor in Buffalo. He would also go on to a long and happy life with his family.
But still for these brothers, the butcher's bill would come due. Edward was drafted into the infantry in 1943. He served as an anti-aircraft gunner in the artillery. Edward survived the invasion of Normandy where so many of our best and bravest perished, fighting his way westward into Germany. Returning home in 1945, he seemed one of the lucky ones who made it back without a scratch. But it soon became apparent that something had changed inside him.
He acted strangely and became distant and paranoid. He would often pace the floor of the family home, then suddenly crouch down, pulling his frightened siblings down and telling them to ``be quiet . . . they're coming . . .''
Edward was sent to a Veterans Administration hospital in 1946. ``Shell-shock'' was the term of the day for his condition, what we now call ``post-traumatic stress disorder.'' The VA doctors knew little about the condition or a proper course of treatment. Edward would remain at the VA hospital in Canandaigua, N.Y., for the next 62 years.
As a child I visited him from time to time with my mother. It was a frightening place; patients sedated with thorazine and other heavy-duty drugs. Electroshock therapy was in vogue. Edward spoke haltingly, never more than a few words in hushed tones. He seemed grateful for the cigarettes and toiletries my mother brought. Each time she would leave sobbing and devastated, mourning the loss of her big brother.
So it was for 62 years, a once vibrant young man held a prisoner of his own mind, unable to get past the horrors of a war his body had survived. No bullet wound or shrapnel would provide the merciful release of death for Edward. But on that April morning at Arlington National Cemetery, I knew that his own sacrifice stood up well to those of the heroes he would join in that hallowed ground.
This Veterans Day, take a few moments to remind your sons and daughters that freedom isn't free. Teach them that our precious liberty is not preserved by lawyers, or judges, or politicians. It is the veterans to whom we owe the blessings of our liberty; they are the ones who answered the call and paid the bill when it came due. By teaching this lesson, we venerate their sacrifice and honor their devotion to America.
John Schlesinger is a circuit court judge in Miami-Dade County
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
LIFE FOR JUVENILES
JUSTICE SOTOMAYOR: But you haven't answered
Justice Alito's point, which is: What's the difference
between a month before he's 18 and a month after? What
makes us more capable at the 18th birthday to -- to
affirm a judgment that someone can't be -- can't be rehabilitated?
The Petitioner's answer seems to us weak- that you have to draw the line somewhere and society has drawn it at age 18. And that was just what Justice Scalia was waiting for:
JUSTICE SCALIA: A line has to be drawn
somewhere only if we accept your approach that there has
to be a categorical exemption. A line does not have to
be drawn somewhere if you adopt the approach of case by
case decide whether this is proportional, given how old
the individual was, given the nature of the crimes and
all of the other factors. You don't have to draw a line
then, and that's the attraction of that approach.
But bless her ACLU soul, Justice Ginsberg was waiting with an answer:
JUSTICE GINSBURG: You see, how do you answer the argument that unlike an adult, because of the immaturity, you can't really judge a person -- judge a teenager at the point of sentencing? That it's only after a period of time has gone by, and you see: Has this person overcome those youthful disabilities? That's why a proportionality review on the spot doesn't accommodate the -- what is the driving force of the -your -- the Petitioner's argument is you can't make a
judgment until years later to see how that person has --
has done.
And that's the problem here- on the one side the argument against drawing the line at 18 years of age is that you should just legislate that age is a factor that must be taken into consideration and then you don't have to worry on what side of the 18th birthday the defendant committed the crime on. But that approach still allows for the imprisonment of life without parole for juveniles. So on the other side you ask the court to draw a bright line at age 18.
It seems to us both approaches work well together- you draw a bright line and still require sentencing judges to take age into consideration. That approach plus adding mandatory parole for all juveniles sentenced to more than ten years in prison solves all the issues at hand.
What say you?
Monday, November 09, 2009
CHAOS AT THE COURTHOUSE

While Judges Blake and Slom were figuratively and perhaps literally relaxing in their chambers and sipping a cup of coffee while perusing the comics section of the Herald, this was the scene outside of the courthouse as lines stretched around the block and even attorneys found themselves waiting for upwards of 30 minutes or more as the security screening apparatus in the back of the courthouse broke down.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
NFL WEEK NINE
Saturday, November 07, 2009
JUVENILE JUSTICE ?
“We were pretty aggressive in those years in transferring kids into criminal court,” Mr. Bilchik said. “There was a feeling that we needed to protect our streets.”
He said later research convinced him that his office’s approach was much too aggressive and had not served to deter crime. “My biggest regret,” Mr. Bilchik said, “is that during the time I was in the prosecutor’s office, we were under the false impression that we were insuring greater public safety when we were not.”
Gee Shay, it's always nice when a prosecutor says "woops, I blew it." The problem is that your office's "approach" sent thousands of children to prison when the research on the development of the brains of teen-agers and their decision making abilities were already well known.
Well, better late than never.
THE LIFE OF A PD
As a current PD, I must wholeheartedly agree that we are simply way overpaid. The number of tens of thousands of dollars I make a year requires almost one full hand of fingers to count. My real problem is where to spend it all. After repaying my law school loan and paying the rent for my palatial one bedroom apartment, I am left with literally hundreds of dollars every month to spend on anything I damn well please. Now sure, some of that has to go towards food, and bills (for instance, my incredible salary allows me the luxury of having a non-corded "cellular" telephone) and gas (I drive a 1998 Chrysler Cirrus, it is straight pimping and represents the ultimate in decade old Detroit ingenuity, for instance it has air conditioning that works beautifully as long as its not too hot AND the seats recline, oh yes).
I had hoped that I would be able to keep riding this PD gravy train forever but I fear the discussion on this listserv indicates the rest of you may be onto us and how overpaid we are. We may have to discontinue our proud tradition of PD Friday lunches at Joes Stone Crab and renting out the Versace mansion for our PD Christmas party. And, I haven't mentioned that we do indeed get "full benefits". That's right, in addition to our overly generous salary we also are blessed with a little thing called "health care." If I get sick, there's no trekking down to the local ER to wait and
see the emergency physician for me. No, I get on the phone, call my own personal doctor, get a convenient appointment for 2 weeks from now, and presto, I'm cured (provided I haven't healed on my own in the intervening 2 weeks). You wouldn't think the State of Florida would waste money on keeping its employees healthy, but believe it or not, they do, and thats money that goes right into my pocket (well not so much my pocket as the health care industry's pocket, but who's counting).
And then, on top of all that, I get to pay 50 dollars less than you suckers in the private bar in annual dues to FACDL. If you don't think I'm chuckling to myself about my good fortune in that regard as I'm spending that 50 bucks on champagne and caviar every year, you are sadly incorrect.
In conclusion, I can only hope that Ms. Wear's email does not start a groundswell of activism that will overturn the "confiscatory" $75 in annual dues private attorneys pay to FACDL. That word was as well chosen as was the attack on the PD's, since as we all know joining FACDL is a mandatory obligation.
In seriousness, thanks to all of you at FACDL for the services you provide and I hope everyone enjoys their weekend.
Dan Tibbitt