Crook County Court Docket: Fill & Download for Free

Here is one way to beat a ticket that was actually told to me by a lawyer friend over a couple of beers. Although I never tried it, the lawyer swore it would work in almost any court. It goes like this.Every morning the court prints a docket of pending cases and circulates it to the judge, the clerk and the police officers who have cases.Important. Be sure you arrive ahead of time!!!When the court convenes, the judge will call roll from the list. The judge and police officer will check off those present and mark the others absent. The judge will pass his list to the clerk. You’ll be standing outside in the hall, i.e. absent.Once court is in session and the first case has been called, go to the clerk’s office and tell the clerk you are there. Make up some humane excuse for being late. The clerk will inform the judge, who will add your name to his list, usually at the bottom as punishment for being late. The police officer will be none-the-wiser.Then, it’s a waiting game. It may take an hour, or an afternoon. At some point, the officer will think all his/her cases have been called and leave. Rest assured, they don’t like to hang around. Of course, you must remember what your ticketing officer looks like to be sure he/she has left. Then, you’re virtually home free.Wait for the judge to call your case. Stand up, approach the bench as usual, and plead not guilty. When the judge realizes the officer is not present, he/she will have no choice but to dismiss the ticket for lack of evidence, since the officer must personally testify and give you the opportunity to cross-examine him/her.Caveat: In some cases the judge may not call your name at all and reach the end of the docket. It’s imperative at that point that you stand and announce you’re there. Don’t wait until court is adjourned, or he may authorize a bench warrant for your arrest for failure to appear! The good news, by then, it’s late in the afternoon. The judge is tired and dreaming about that cool glass of Scotch waiting for him. He’ll ask how do you plead? He might even suggest “guilty with an explanation, right?” And, you say: “Not Guilty. And, he’ll go, “Are you sure? You say, “Yes, your honor.” What, no officer around? What the hell, case dismissed.Caveat II: This will not work for serious traffic offenses! If you’ve been charged with drunk driving, reckless driving or doing 100 mph in a school zone, the case likely will be continued. Get a lawyer. But it should work for most routine nuisance tickets.Editor’s Note: I added the following to a reader’s comment, but I think it’s worth reading for anyone who reads this answer. See below.I’ve seen a few comments about this “guilty in absentia.” A traffic ticket is no different than any other criminal charge. You are innocent until proven guilty and have the right to plead not guilty and demand a trial. Maybe I didn’t make that clear.Where I live, you receive a notice in the mail announcing your court date at which time you can enter a plea. You plead not guilty and demand a jury trial, which is your right under Sixth Amendment. You can also plead guilty with an explanation or just plead guilty by paying the fine. Here, you can pay right up until the morning of your hearing and not show up.The Sixth Amendment guarantees the rights of criminal defendants, including the right to a public trial without unnecessary delay, the right to a lawyer, the right to an impartial jury, and the right to know who your accusers are and the nature of the charges and evidence against you.Therefore, being found “guilty in absentia” would seem to be unconstitutional. The key is to plead not guilty and ask for a trial, typically before the judge. You also have a right to represent yourself and you can appeal the judge’s decision to the next level if you go through with the trial.That means the police officer better get his shit together and be ready to testify as to the details of your traffic stop.Since the question asked for a loophole, that’s what I answered. While I’ve never tried it personally, I have taken routine traffic tickets to trial and I have a 6–0 record of acquittals. I’m not a total jerk, but I like to keep the system honest. And, believe me, it can be pretty crooked.Obviously going to trial requires pretty in-depth preparation. But it’s simple to do. Traffic laws are easy to find out. But here’s the secret. In every jurisdiction, there’s such a thing called “rules of the road.” That’s the case law that’s been established over the years, by people who have actually appealed lower traffic court rulings, gotten a review and opinion by a higher court.How do you research case law? Easy, just go to Google Scholar and it’s all there for free. I’ll give you two examples.Before I do, full disclosure: I worked as a newspaper reporter at the time, and covered the police and courts. So it became part of my job to test the system, which usually ended up in a story. After all, fair is fair and the law is the law.So case one:I was stopped for speeding on a eight-lane highway where the speed limit “suddenly” dropped from 65 to 55, a typical speed trap. The officer said he was pacing me and said I was doing 70 in a 55 zone. Busted?Not quite. According to case law, the officer was required to pace me for at least a mile. In addition, he had to show up in court with a certificate of calibration to prove his speedometer was accurate. What’s more, the certificate had to show the speedometer was calibrated at the speed at which he pulled me over. It’s also illegal, at least in my state, to set up a speed trap within 1,000 feet of a sign designating a change in speed. This is to give drivers time to safely slow down.The day of the trial the case was called; the officer testified. Then it was my turn for cross-examination. Did you have your speedometer calibrated? Of course, he said. Could I please see the certificate? Ah… I don’t have it with me. Strike one.When precisely did you start pacing me? I’m not sure. Well estimate as best as you can. Well, I came on the highway at such and such an exit and started pacing you right after that. How long after that? I’m not sure. Give me your best estimate. Maybe a minute. And when did you turn on your flashing lights? I’m not sure. Give me your best estimate. I would say around mile-marker 9. Surprise, it was less than a mile. Strike two.Of course, he started pacing me in the 65 mph zone and pulled me over as soon as we crossed into the 55 mph zone because I didn’t slow down. But he was prohibited by law from pacing my car until we were at least 1,000 feet beyond the 55 sign. Strike three—case dismissed.Honestly, I’m as big a supporter of law enforcement as anyone else. Three of my brothers-in-law, are or were, police officers. Every so often, however, the police need to be held accountable, especially at a mundane level like traffic court, where they interact with thousands of people. Otherwise, we’re living in an authoritarian police state.I’ll give you one other example only because it was pretty crazy. I was stopped at a light on a four-lane road with a right turn lane at the intersection of another four lane road. The overhead signage said the left lane was straight or left turn. The middle lane was straight or right turn, and the turn lane was right turn only.I made a left turn from the center lane and was pulled over. I was the only car at the intersection, plus the lane markings were mostly obliterated from wear, and honestly I was probably straddling the left and middle lane a little bit. The officer seemed to understand. He asked for my driver’s license and said he would give me a warning. But when he came back from his motorcycle he handed me a ticket. I can only surmise that he saw from my license that I was from a town 50 miles away and never thought I would protest the ticket. Big mistake.I was planning to base my defense on the fact that the lane markings were obliterated and it was impossible to tell exactly what lane I was in. This is actually a legal defense. Even though there are overhead signs, the state or county is required by law to maintain lane markings that are visible to drivers.So I went down to the local planning office to get an official, certified map of the intersection which would be admissible as evidence. There I learned a very curious thing.The road I was on continued across the four lane road and went past a shopping center. It looked like all one road, but the shopping center developer never deeded that section of the road over to the county. Legally, it was actually a private driveway, even though it was identical in design and construction to the road I was on.Now in my state, again, based on case law, there’s such a thing called “The Boulevard Rule.” It states that a car on a public road has the absolute right-of-way over a car entering or leaving a private driveway.The officer testified that he gave me a ticket because, A: The traffic direction was clearly displayed on the overhead signs, prohibiting a left turn from the center lane, and B: It was unsafe because it could have led to a collision with a car going straight in the left lane.I argued that the two lanes didn’t actually go straight, but continued to the the left onto the four lane road. In effect it was one continuous road. A car in the left lane going straight had to yield to my car because it was entering a private driveway. The judge was astonished, but dismissed the ticket. What’s more she informed the county and the county not only repainted the markings but changed the overhead signs to left turn only, straight or left/right turn, and right turn only.So out of small things, sometimes big things can happen for the public good. Always stand up for your rights.

I've got a doozy that fits the bill.Back in my greener days as a criminal defense attorney I acquired a female client that beats them all."Jessica" was classic northern New England: mid-twenties, a bit unkempt, train-wreck of crooked teeth, somewhat attractive, sweet enough personality, earnest, kind-hearted, slightly naive.She wouldn’t get an invitation to All Saints Day. Had a history of prior legal scrapes. Mostly minor. Still…Jessica’s charge sheet was a mile long. Multiple serious felonies: aggravated assaults (with an automobile), felony mischief, destruction of property, felony hit and runs, leaving the scene of an accident, negligent operation, evading police, etc. etc. etc. I thought that the state would get tired of listing charges against her and restrain themselves. But no. This information (citations) to the court was the longest I had ever seen.Then and since.Said event allegedly took place at the Long Trail Inn. It’s not an inn. The “inn” is short for “infamous”…a sad, decrepit watering hole. You'd be forgiven the impression that half the criminal docket in my county originated in that dive (may it rest in peace). The Long Trail was notorious.Now, it's a given that all my clients are innocent. But my heart sank as I reviewed the affidavits and witness statements. Everything aligned against Jessica. I remember thinking"Really? My client's screwed!"I didn’t feel any better after testing the state’s attorney to see if an early resolution was possible. If looks could kill. Spittle formed in the corner of his lips as he assured me“your client will leave prison when hell freezes over.”Short discussion, it was. I thought she'd be lucky to enjoy her golden years breathing free air.But the old saw is true: there are two sides to every story. And boy oh boy did Jessica have a story. It was all-together a different order of magnitude than the state's version.I dove head-first into the case.After a lot of witness interviews, discovery, depositions, and motion practice, the picture pieced together.As trial loomed, we had a final status conference before jury draw. The judge reviewed the file on the bench, put the file down, rubbed his eyes, sniffed, picked up the file, and looked increasingly confused."Would you tell me what this case is really about?", the judge asked the state's attorney.The state presented its allegations in terse, sharp, sound-bites...not inaccurate so much as incomplete.I raised my hand. "Your honor, I'd like to respond."And I told the court the following story about Jessica's case, with some additional details included here that I thought wiser to not share at the time with the court.Jessica and her fiancé broke-up the month before. Turned out he had been two-timing on Jessica with a side girl…who was Jessica’s friend. And planned to marry her. The lying fuck.The bride was no prize, either.Meanwhile Jessica, still blue from losing her boyfriend and best friend in one clean swoop, wanted to get out of the house for Saturday night cheer. She picked up a friend and went to the Long Trail.Once there, what do you know? The parking lot was packed. Cars everywhere. On the grass. Over flowing onto the side of the state highway. Jam packed."Huh!" says Jessica. "Wonder what's going on?"She slowly rolled past the door to get a look inside. See if she could recognize anybody. The bar was draped with ribbons and balloons."What the...?"Two and two slowly came together. A wedding was going on.Then she recognized people inside. In dawning horror she realized that this was her ex's wedding reception. At the Long Trail Inn, of all places! Who does that?Whatever, it was time to leave!At exactly the same moment a ghost materialized out of the dark fields. It swerved into the light and was none other than the bride herself, still dressed in her bridal gown, stumbling heels, wiping cocaine off her nose.The court room tittered behind me.Now, there was no love lost between Jessica and the bride. Literally without warning, the bride muttered vaguely unhappy threats and rushed the car, ripped open the door, unlatched Jessica's seat belt, dragged her out of the car by the hair, and started swinging fists into her.Jessica was having none of it.She gripped at anything available on her assailant: wedding gown, tightly frizzed hair, corset, bra strap. A full-on brawl followed.The court room openly laughed now.About this time, the bar-tender leaned forward to look out the door. She saw the bride and Jessica rolling around in a dirt-ball, bridal gown ripping apart, grappling for purchase, trading blows."Hey! There's a fight in the parking lot! Looks like the bride!!"In one continuous motion the entire contents of the bar tipped towards the exit, where they jammed-up in the door frame for a beat!Seeing trouble headed their way, Jessica's friend in the passenger seat screamed at Jessica to get in the car.Jessica looked up in time to see the advancing problem, got free of the bride, and dove into the car. Locked the door this time.A drunken angry mob surrounded her car. Pried at the door handles. Screamed at the windows. Pounded on the glass.Jessica panicked, leaned on the horn, and put the car in gear.Mayhem ensued.Inebriated red-necks flew off the hood right and left.But in her panic she drove into the dead-end of the parking lot, surrounded by cars.Now what?Reversing direction, she clipped and creased a half dozen cars, matted the pedal, swerving to avoid as many people as possible, and hit more cars while trying to make the turn.Jessica's car got hung up on a car's bumper. She reversed to get free, rear-ended more cars, finally got free and headed out of the parking lot at high speed, spraying gravel and people everywhere .Law enforcement arrived promptly at the scene. A BOLO (Be On the Look-Out) was issued for Jessica. A drunken mob at the bar smelled blood.Word was out all over Lamoille County that the hunt was on!Needless to say, Jessica was freaked out!She kept out of sight for the balance of the night……and turned herself in to the local PD the next morning, when she figured the temperature had cooled a bit.I was assigned to Jessica’s defense after all the P.D.s conflicted out due to the lengthy witness list consisting of prior criminals.Some case, it was.In short, Jessica had acted in self defense. It was a necessity defense of the charges against her: But for the bride initiating the fight, but for the angry mob heading out the door to escalate the situation, none of this would have happened.Seeing their case deflate like a failed soufflé, the state valiantly argued that my client remained criminally culpable because she knew, or should have known, that her ex was having his wedding reception at The Long Trail that night. This was not a good night for her to get a drink there."Proof?!" I asked the court and state's attorney. "The reception location wasn't advertised. Signage at the Long Trail didn’t say otherwise. And strangely, my client didn't get an invitation to this high-brow event."Crickets.The state eventually offered to settle the case with a plea to a disorderly conduct charge...the most minor infraction available. Long story how we finally got there.In the best interest of my client, I decided against reminding the state’s attorney of his famous earlier words. Better to not rub salt into the wound.For the time.Now, pleading guilty to anything on these facts rankled my sense of fairness. But Jessica freely shared information with me that presented risks to certain aspects of her trial because defense of her case nearly mandated her own testimony.Legal issues and practical issues. A raft of felonies against my client backed by the testimony of multiple, injured, and p.o.’d state witnesses?Tearing them apart on the witness stand would have been entertaining. But the bottom line is that trials are risky.From that perspective the plea deal was vastly superior to chancing a jury verdict at trial. We agreed to the plea, on the understanding that the state would investigate the bride for assault. Five months later the bride pled to a charge of simple assault against my client.Hell did not freeze over.[Edit 29Oct2018. A double milestone: First 100K answer viewership, and the moment my profile surpassed 1M views. Only 124M views left to catch Sean Kernan. That should happen…in my next life.]

My profession gets a lot of “public perceptions,” no doubt—fed by TV tropes, bad lawyer jokes, and disaffected clients who are upset that we don’t work miracles.I would suggest the main public perception of the job is that it’s far more exciting than it actually is.Secondarily, of my job specifically, there might be a public perception that it’s harder than it is. I work a bit less than full-time so I’m not doing the insane Paper Chase thing, and never really have. (Leaves me too much time to goof off on Quora….) I do once in a while have the late night (two Wednesdays ago, I was up until 3 am trying to process an exceptionally long court list and write five briefs for a deadline) but I have Fridays completely free most of the time despite the number of papers that I push. The other thing that (admittedly, is just me) is that I the job itself isn’t posh either. I have no staff. I have a home office that doubles as a storage room and a chair at the court house where I can use a computer that I have to share with the court Masters and anyone else in the support office who decides she needs it.The last thing that I think is different from “perceptions” is that lawyers, by and large, take their ethical responsibilities pretty seriously. As far as I am concerned, I have a responsibility not only to the client but to the “system” itself to comport myself fairly and ethically, and I’ve never really run into the crooked lawyers that one reads about in Disciplinary Board reports (so, yes, I concede such people exist—they just aren’t all the common) or sees on TV dramas. I suppose the reason for the “perceptions” are likely twofold: first, it probably feels like highway robbery if you’re a paying client and need a lawyer; second, we are admittedly in the business of advocating stuff, and the other side is likely not to like what we’re advocating, and even our own clients might not like it when we make required concessions not to advocate stuff that has no merit or otherwise is adjudged unhelpful. But clients’ grumbling about the bills aside, it’s a business and we have costs to cover, and I’ve concluded that if no one is complaining about you you probably aren’t doing your job right.If you limit this to the main specific “job” I do, I suspect the majority of people would probably not even have many preconceptions—“what is a ‘IV-D attorney’ anyway?” And though I’ve gradually evolved a way of doing the job that kind of works for me, I’m not even exactly sure if what I do is the same as my colleague in the next county over—I don’t really have any occasion to visit that court to find out.So a typical day for me is either a work day or a court day. I have to wear closed-toed shoes on a court day, as I would rather avoid this guy’s fate. Two Tuesdays a month, it’s both because there’s some time before contempt court that I try and get stuff done. I’ll do a few things at home, and try to get to work by 10 or 11, though I’ll stay until 6 p.m. at which point the mainframe in Harrisburg gets shut down and my trawling for information on the computer will perforce cease. (Wednesdays are almost always work days because there are no support court hearings on Wednesday and the computer will work until 9.)The week-in, week-out thing I do is try support hearings. The first step is docket review—finding out why the case is being heard and what issues can be addressed, and ensuring that the court Master will have copies of the most relevant items already in the record (prior decisions are especially useful, as the findings made therein might be held up as res judicata, or supplement our crystal ball with previously-noted tidbits of some relevance). For reasons not entirely clear to me, the administration of my office do not like to give the docket files to the Master, so I spend a fair amount of time reading through dockets and scrolling through the scanned images of documents to make copies of them. This isn’t very glamorous work (though I do find interesting things about now and again about the parties that may or may not be strictly relevant). I also usually check divorce and custody files involving the same parties, as these areas of law intersect to some degree with support; criminal paperwork is surprisingly often a source of useful background information as well. (Note to any “privacy” fanatics out there—don’t do anything to get involved with the legal system if you don’t want people knowing your business!)I also prep any written evidence that we have collected in advance of the hearing. Although printing stuff out and copying it is something I have to do, I don’t always have to find stuff from scratch; if someone else realised it was important for the hearing I might be furnished a paper copy. Sometimes the parties have appeared at a conference and supplied documents; we also subpoena documents from employers. But often the employer has not bothered to answer our subpoena timely, and of course there is not time for me to do anything about that, so the next-best-thing to employer’s records is records maintained by the state for the purpose of support proceedings. I’ll make up exhibits out of computer printouts, and while they’re technically hearsay, all of us involved with these cases are reasonably familiar with their format and they will be accepted; in the meantime it allows me to cross-examine the parties about their work history. There is next to no legal research done in this process. The idea is “support is set on earning capacity” and certain other factors.The hearings themselves are relatively informal; most parties are unrepresented and not especially sophisticated; since I don’t represent either side, I have come to view it as much more efficient to cross-examine everyone—a typical question is “You used to work at Friendly’s. What did you do there?” Such a question wouldn’t fly in regular court (“Objection! counsel is testifying for the witness!”), but when I’ve got a screen print or an “OFE” (this stands for “order for earnings report”—the response to a subpoena sent to the employer) to back this up and the hearing officer (called a Master) knows exactly where I’m going with it, it’s a lot quicker than waiting for the witness to try and recall where it was they used to work.Other stuff I do is argument court once per month; if someone excepts to the hearing officer’s decision, I write a brief (which is often just a statement of the case, since “I don’t agree with this support order” does not, by itself, present any cognizable legal issue to argue for or against….) for the Common Pleas judge who hears the exceptions. The “argument” in the brief is usually just “the Master heard the evidence and she was right,” though I must say they considerably exceed the standard of one of my predecessors, who filed briefs so short they’ve been called “thongs” as an office joke. (When I used to be in private practice, I appeared as defence counsel in support hearings from time to time. The first time I ever filed exceptions, Mike files this brief, opposing my exceptions with three paragraphs, none of which bothered to address my actual point—I won that one. In his defence, that would have been enough for many cases.) All cases are listed for oral argument, though sometimes that consists only of me saying “I looked at this case, your Honor, and I didn’t see anything wrong with the decision. The plaintiff told us X, Y, and Z, and it’s in the brief.” Every now and again a defendant will retain counsel for argument court, and the process becomes a bit more formal (and occasionally, even interesting). A few other odd things like contested motions, paternity trials, and enforcement proceedings for reimbursable expenses might also be listed for argument court day.Three times a month we have contempt court. I am a kind of a figurehead at this proceeding—I don’t do much of anything for contempt court other than stand there, call cases, and occasionally ask questions if a defendant proffers some information I want to follow up on and I happen to get the chance to get a word in edgewise before the judge starts lecturing the defendant. (It is also my job at these hearings to question any third-party witnesses, but this happens maybe once or twice a year.) The conference officers prep the contempt cases and present the summary. Contempt hearings are if anything even more informal than the establishment hearings. The facts, such as they are (a payment history, and a list of known employers for the past two years) are furnished to the judge on a paper; the defendant may be permitted to make a statement, but no one really “gives evidence” in any sort of formal way. This proceeding tends to give me sore feet from standing for several hours, but there are no Clarence Darrow moments in contempt court.I occasionally work with the office staff to obtain information that isn’t that easy to get, or to relay information to parties, but I’m not part of the actual hierarchy there (I am contracted to do the work, so I occasionally advise or report to the agency director, but I might go weeks without saying more than “hi” to her), and basically, I just go in and do what I can with what I find in the computer, a more-or-less solitary process. There are no witness interviews, negotiations, courtroom theatrics, depositions (well, we had one last winter, but it’s not very common), private investigators, or the like, almost no pleading work, not all that much research—in general most of the stuff you tend to think of as “practicing law” I don’t need to do here. And unless it is a court day, I don’t even dress up all the way (yes, this means I will go to work in flip-flops).Much of my non-Domestic Relations work is other forms of court appointments:I have served as guardian ad litem for children in various types of cases. Although I did have 23 hours in one of them (a custody trial), most of these are limited to talking a bit with the other counsel to ensure that the children’s interests aren’t being compromised.I have done some criminal defence where the Public Defender’s office is conflicted out. Although occasionally a case goes to trial (these, while considerably less dramatic than the ones shown on TV, involve roughly the same process as I suspect most people would expect), most criminal cases are pled out. The only thing you say to the court during a plea wave hearing is what the terms of the agreement were (if there is one; some defendants make “open” pleas). About the only lawyering you might do in those cases is a sentencing hearing (which is also, like the contempt hearings, an abbreviated matter where the court has been presented with a pre-sentence investigation and isn’t interested in a formal adversarial presentation of evidence).Although I’ve given up private practice for the time being, I used to do a few rather random things in that endeavour—no-fault divorces, civil litigation not involving personal injury, a bit of municipal law, name changes, landlord-tenant stuff, collection, and document drafting.Before I started at the support office, I also did other types of family work more regularly (the large majority of custody cases in my county would generate a conflict of interest) but I’ve only done one contested family case in the last five years. This is an area where I think the public preconception is that we are much nastier than we usually are. Actually, despite the fact (or, maybe, because of the fact) that family law can be a pain in the ass, we get along pretty well with our colleagues (if not the clients). Dealing with opposing counsel cordially in such a situation is the norm and really in the client’s best interest.Some other answers I think related to this question:John Gragson's answer to How do people represent themselves in court concerning child support matters? noting my job function.John Gragson's answer to Do you think it is appropriate for attorneys to argue any side of an issue depending on who is paying their bill, or should an attorney refrain from taking any case that they don't personally believe in? on personal opinions and the role of the adversary system.John Gragson's answer to Do lawyers have to point out things to the judges in court? Can't judges just interfere in some cases? on presentation of evidence.John Gragson's answer to Why do lawyers lie and make up things in civil litigation when they write their summons? on advocacy in pleadings.John Gragson's answer to What is a lawyer’s relationship like with lawyers of an opposing counsel outside of the courtroom? and John Gragson's answer to How adversarial (even violent or just verbally abusive) is being a lawyer, or practicing law, especially during litigation? on civility.John Gragson's answer to Are most lawyers greedy?John Gragson's answer to How can "new" documents be introduced during an appeal to the appeal court? on the importance of the record.John Gragson's answer to How do I get legal advice anonymously? on confidentiality and the role of counsellor.John Gragson's answer to Is it possible to be a good lawyer without telling lie?Answer 7 Jul 2018; updated 21 Feb 2020 (corrected typo 19 Jun 2020)