The Plea Bargain!

The Plea Bargain!

My first encounter with the

 American Legal System

 

W

hen I first came to America, I was so excited to be coming to a place known for justice. Unfortunately many countries, including the one I migrated from, Syria, were not known for the honesty of their court systems and for an average person to get justice was often very difficult and expensive.  But here in the States, my new home, I would not have to worry about corruption and lying in the courts.  Here people said you could be honest and the system was fair.  I lived here for several years comfortably, before I had an occasion to experience the justice system for myself.

One day, in late afternoon, on January 4, 1994, I was driving about 20 mile per hour south down Olentangy River Road, normally a 45 mph zone. It was snowing heavily. The visibility was reduced to about 20 feet. The roads were covered with snow so thick you couldn’t see the pavement. When I was about to enter the intersection of Olentangy and Ackerman, the traffic lights became yellow. There was no way to break and stop before the lights because of the slippery snow on the ground. So it was a judgment call. Fearing to slip and keeping my eye on the few cars around, I proceeded with caution and turned east onto W. Dodridge.

  A few seconds later, I barely noticed a police car’s light bars flashing behind me. I did not know where the car came from; certainly it was not behind me on Olentangy. I knew later that it came from Ackerman. I thought it was flashing for someone else, but then he put on the siren and over the loud speakers ordered me to pull over.

 I pulled over and got out my driver’s license and the car registration. It was close to sunset and getting dark. The officer came to my side; I lowered the window and asked him why he stopped me.

 “Sir, you went through a red light.”

 “I disagree, officer, I did not. It was a yellow light.”

 “In addition to going through a red light, your license plate is covered with snow and I could not read it; which is in violation of the law”.

 “Do you want me to pull over every 15 minutes to clean the plate in this storm?”

 “Sir, you can tell that to the judge if you wish, anything you say here could be used against you in a court of law! Just hand me the driver’s license and car registration!”

 I was polite and respectful to him. I did not argue anymore. It wouldn’t have been wise to irritate an officer especially with my foreign accent. He left with my license and registration.While waiting for my ticket, I was thinking to myself how it would be nice to have heating wires going behind the license plate to keep it warm to prevent snow from staying on it.

Some weeks later, at the appointed time and date, I went to the courthouse on South High. In one of the courtrooms, Room A, the Bailiff, whose name was Jennifer Scott, greeted me and asked, “How may I help you?”

“I have this traffic ticket,” I answered.

She looked at it and asked, “What are we pleading today?”

 “We? I don’t know about you!” I wanted to say but did not. “I plead not guilty to all charges,” I replied. She frowned, looked at me and said, “Wait for me; don’t go away, I’ll be back in a minute”. She left to a back room.

Fifteen minutes later, she came back with a smile on her face, “I have great news for you, Mr. Tarazi!” she said. “I checked you out and you have a clean driving record and you never had any traffic violations otherwise. We are willing to reduce the charges to a non moving violation; to a ‘Noisy Muffler’ violation. You pay a $25 fine (my current fine was $80) and leave with 0-point violation.”

In legal jargon this is called a “Plea Bargain”. Basically you plead to a lesser charges and in return you get a reduced sentence – Life in prison without parole instead of death sentence for example -. This practice, I learned later, is widely used in an effort to reduce the number of cases, and thus the cost associated, that end up in courtrooms.

But my muffler was almost new! In fact I had it replaced a month prior to the ticket. If I pleaded guilty to a muffler violation I would have been lying! “I plead ‘no contest’ to the new charge,” I said. I thought ‘no contest’ would be the closest to not lying.  The Bailiff, now angry, shook her head and scowled at me “Mr. Tarazi! You cannot plead ‘no contest’ to the muffler violation. You need to plead guilty or the deal is off the table!”

“Then I will see you in front of the judge,” I said and left.

On my way out of the courthouse building I ran into a friend, Abdulla, a used tire store owner. When he saw me he greeted me, “Wassup brother?” I told him my story and how I refused the plea bargain. He stared at me, shook his head and yelled, “Are you crazy? It ain’t worth fightin’ man. You ain’t gonna win nothin’. You’ll end up payin’ the fine and court cost. Give ’em twenty-some bucks and get outta here!”

I knew I was innocent and I didn’t want to lie. Now I was left with no choice but to fight this to the end. I did not have money to hire an attorney. I had to prepare my defense on my own. I relied on the ‘legal advice’ from friends (as the saying go, a friend in need is a friend indeed). When it comes to giving legal advises, there are no shortage of friends willing to help. Mr. Google Esq. was not in business in 1994 and could not be reached.

In the morning, the day of the trial, I put on my three-piece charcoal suit, a light gray dress shirt, a striped navy blue tie with a tie clip, and wore a shiny black pair of shoes. I prepared my burgundy leather briefcase with golden hinges and locks, an imitation of French Cartier. In it I placed the traffic ticket, the court summons, some notes I’d prepared, a legal pad and few pens. I did my prayer, grabbed my black dress overcoat and headed to the court.

On my way, I continued to pray for the officer not show up in court, which would cause the case to be dismissed automatically. I arrived at the courthouse ten minutes before nine. On the second floor, I needed to report to courtroom A. In the hallway there were so many people waiting for all sort of reasons. Some were defendants going to trials, some were witnesses, and others were supporters. I noticed the presence of several police officers, but I did not recognize the officer who cited me, Officer Taylor, whose name was on my ticket. After all it had been almost two months since I last saw him on the dark street. 

I entered courtroom A and Bailiff Scott was there at her table. “Good Morning Mrs. Scott” I said. She looked at me and recognized me

“Good Morning Mr. Tarazi!, How have you been?”

“Fine thank you Mrs. Scott, and you?”

“Great thank you!” She added in a last minute maneuver, “Mr. Tarazi!  Do you really still want to go through this? You can still accept the plea bargain.”

I suspected that Officer Taylor did not show up and that Mrs. Scott wanted a last minute deal short of having the case dismissed.

“I appreciate the offer Mrs. Scott, but I would like to go through the trial.”

She walked me around the courtroom, showed me the defense and plaintiff tables, the jury box, the judge’s bench, and instructed me to sit at the defense table. I put my briefcase on the table, opened it and left it open, took out my legal pad, a pen and placed them on the table. I took off my overcoat and placed it neatly around the back of a nearby chair and fixed my tie.  While waiting for the trial to get started, I was going over in my head my defense strategy, but still was hoping for Officer Taylor not to show up.

It was around 9:15 a.m. when a big man entered the courtroom. He ignored me. He chatted with the Bailiff and both laughed. Then he sat at the prosecution table. Later I knew he was the assistant prosecutor in charge of my case.

The back door opened and an older distinguished man, with hair turning white, wearing long black robe, came through. “All rise” the Bailiff shouted. We all stood up. It was Judge Smith; he went behind the bench, sat down, and ordered, “Please be seated!” He started going through a stack of files on top of his desk, and then called “Mrs. Scott!” She stood up and addressed “Your Honor, before you, case number 1994 TR D 00078, The State of Ohio, Plaintiff versus M. Nabih Tarazi, Defendant.”

“Thank you Mrs. Scott, and now to you Mr. Martinez!”

The assistant prosecutor, Mr. Martinez, stood up, cleared his throat, and said ”Your Honor, on January 4, 1994, the defendant, Mr. Tarazi, failed to stop at the red lights at the intersection of Olentangy and Ackerman. He was spotted by an officer on duty. He was pulled over as he was going east on W. Dodridge. He was driving with an unclear plate. Those were clear violations of the law and the officer cited him for both. We ask the court to find him guilty of both charges, order him to pay the fees and the court cost. Thank you your Honor!”

The Judge looked at me and asked me, “Mr. Tarazi! What do you say of these charges?”

I stood up, cleared my throat and answered “Good Morning your Honor, I did not go through red lights. In fact, they became yellow as I was preparing to enter the intersection and turn left on West  Dodridge. As for the so-called unclear plate, Mr. Martinez failed to inform the court that the plate was partially obstructed by the falling snow. Your Honor! On January 4, 1994, I was stopped and cited during an ongoing snow storm. Therefore, I respectfully ask the court to dismiss all charges. Thank you your honor”

“Mr. Martinez! Do you have your witness?”  The judge asked.

My heart started pounding, I needed to hear “No”, “Hasn’t show up yet”, “Running a bit late” or “On his way”, which would have disturbed the judge and the case would’ve been dismissed.

“Yes your honor, he is outside waiting!” replied Mr. Martinez.

“Then call in your witness,” Judge Smith ordered.

Officer Taylor was escorted inside the courtroom. Before sitting at the lectern he was sworn in by Mrs. Scott. Mr. Martinez asked him to identify himself for the court. Then he asked him to tell the court what happen on the evening of January 4, 1994. He said that I went through a red light and my plate was covered with snow and he couldn’t read it. Then Mr. Martinez asked him if I said anything during the stop. He answered that I denied going through red lights and that I told him,

“Do you expect me to pull over every few minutes to wipe up my plate from the snow?” Officer Taylor added, at that time, I advised him “anything you say will be used against you in court”. Mr. Martinez thanked him and thanked the judge.

“Mr. Tarazi!” Judge Smith called on me “It’s your turn to cross-examine the witness.”

I cleared my throat and started “Thank you Your Honor.” I studied my notes “Mr. Taylor, how long have you been in the police service?”

“Five years next month,” he replied.

“Do you consider yourself an expert witness?”

He hesitated, “Yes”

“What qualifications do you have?” I asked.

“High school diploma,” he answered.

 “Were you behind me when I, as you alleged, went through the red lights?”

“No.” He said.

I did some scribbling on my legal pad as if important information is being recorded. I glanced at the judge, and he seemed amused with the show. This was probably his first time presiding over such a ridiculous case. 

“Could you state your position, when you saw me go through red lights, as you’d claimed?”

“I was on Ackerman, at the traffic lights, at the intersection of Ackerman and Olentangy, going east.” Taylor said.

“And I was going south on Olentangy, is that correct?”

“Yes” Taylor replied.

“Olentangy meets Ackerman at about 45 degrees angle, is that correct”

“I don’t know, Maybe”

“Mr. Taylor! From your position, at Ackerman, could you see the lights that I went through?”

He realized that he could not have seen my lights from his position. He said “No Sir.”

“So you did not see me go through red lights?”

“When my light turned green, I saw you still in the intersection heading east on West Dodridge.” Taylor said.

“Is that a No answer?” I asked.

“Yes Sir.”

“If my light turned yellow when I was about to enter the intersection, don’t I need to proceed and get out of the intersection?”

“Yes”

More scribbling! I had learned from one of my friends -Legal advisor, if I can call him that way, that the best defense strategy is to discredit the witnesses’ credibility. I retrieved the traffic ticket from my briefcase, studied it, cleared my throat and asked, “How was the pavement at the time of the incident?”

He paused and said, “Dry.”

“Mr. Taylor! On my ticket you marked ‘snow’ for the pavement.

What about the visibility?”

“Clear.”

“Mr. Taylor! On my ticket you marked ‘cloudy’ for the visibility”

“What about the weather?”

“Snow.”

“Mr. Taylor! With the pavement being covered with snow, there was no way you could be sure, from your position, where I was with respect to the solid white lines delineating the intersection.”

Without giving him chance to comment, I quickly asked him, “At 30 miles per hour, how long does it take for a car to come to a full stop, in such a condition of weather and pavement?”

He shrugged “I don’t know, Sir.” 

At this point, even though the judge looked very amused, I needed to end this cross-examination. I did not want to irritate him. I looked at my pad, turned towards the judge and said

“Your Honor, I did not go through red lights. I’m not going to lie just to avoid paying a fee of eighty dollars. It is a matter of principle for me.” I cleared my throat. “Your Honor, Thou Shalt Not Lie!” I wanted to add but I did not. Instead I concluded, “Your Honor! They even wanted me to lie about my muffler in order to drop the charges, I refused and ….” The judge cut me off.  I thought he was fed up with me by then.

“Okay! Okay! Mr. Tarazi. They sometimes offer such plea bargains to reduce the load on the courts.” Then he addressed the assistant prosecutor, “Mr. Martinez! The State failed to convince me beyond a reasonable doubt of the guilt of Mr. Tarazi. In fact I have many doubts. Therefore, the case is dismissed.”

He looked at me and said “Mr. Tarazi, feel free to leave.”

I thanked him and picked up my briefcase and my overcoat and left.

                                                     Justice served.

[This is the story as I recall it.  I made up the names of the people for their privacy and also because I forgot their names.]