Surprise Witness
I've been dealing with a few legal issues that I probably shouldn't divulge right now, but my dad told me a story about his days from a time long since passed that gave me a boost of confidence in not only myself, but also for him.
My father had owned and ran a restaurant in New Jersey about the time when my older sister was born. Happy in name, probably in practice for some time, but not to be lasting. My father had the newborn baby, a wife (my mom), and aging parents to care for during a turbulent time in Patterson; even more so than today I suppose, I have never visited the place. The neighborhood had gone down hill as it were and there was a sense of change (and not for the good). For the time (maybe still so today) drugs were not uncommon on the city blocks. Power outages bolstered the gall of enterprising deliquents and their pockets too. It was no surprise that small arms could be purchased at the corner store; 22s swiped by neighborhood kids to be used to terrorize polywags. In the backdrop of urban neglect and decay, my father's restaurant was robbed and terrorized. But that is for another time. The story continues in the courthouse.
Three african-americans sat together behind a table, defendents, at least according to criminal prosecution procedures. Three defense attorneys, one for each. One of the sharks, sharply dressed, overconfident places a foot on a chair.
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three black guys robbed you?'
No response....
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
'Well, Judge. He is disrespecting the court and disrespecting me. I won't answer anyone with his foot on a chair.' The counsel removes his foot and recollects himself. Folds his arms.
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three black guys robbed you?'
No response...
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
'Well, Judge. I never said black guys. I said the ones who robbed me had dark skin.'
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three guys robbed you?'
No response...
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
My father continues to explain. 'The tall one carried a long gun and wore a long jacket. The medium sized one wore tall shoes. The short one had curly hair and carried a handgun. The police caught these guys robbing the liquor store down the road the same night with the same description.'
In contempt of court... maybe, but nobody harasses my dad.
'Mr. Lau, where did you get so much power in court?,' a law student auditing the procedure asked and shook his hand.
Back to the present. 'Well son, if you have to go to court, I'll be there. I already have experience.'
My father had owned and ran a restaurant in New Jersey about the time when my older sister was born. Happy in name, probably in practice for some time, but not to be lasting. My father had the newborn baby, a wife (my mom), and aging parents to care for during a turbulent time in Patterson; even more so than today I suppose, I have never visited the place. The neighborhood had gone down hill as it were and there was a sense of change (and not for the good). For the time (maybe still so today) drugs were not uncommon on the city blocks. Power outages bolstered the gall of enterprising deliquents and their pockets too. It was no surprise that small arms could be purchased at the corner store; 22s swiped by neighborhood kids to be used to terrorize polywags. In the backdrop of urban neglect and decay, my father's restaurant was robbed and terrorized. But that is for another time. The story continues in the courthouse.
Three african-americans sat together behind a table, defendents, at least according to criminal prosecution procedures. Three defense attorneys, one for each. One of the sharks, sharply dressed, overconfident places a foot on a chair.
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three black guys robbed you?'
No response....
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
'Well, Judge. He is disrespecting the court and disrespecting me. I won't answer anyone with his foot on a chair.' The counsel removes his foot and recollects himself. Folds his arms.
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three black guys robbed you?'
No response...
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
'Well, Judge. I never said black guys. I said the ones who robbed me had dark skin.'
'Mr. Lau, how do you know these three guys robbed you?'
No response...
Bang. Bang. 'Mr. Lau, how come you don't answer the question?'
My father continues to explain. 'The tall one carried a long gun and wore a long jacket. The medium sized one wore tall shoes. The short one had curly hair and carried a handgun. The police caught these guys robbing the liquor store down the road the same night with the same description.'
In contempt of court... maybe, but nobody harasses my dad.
'Mr. Lau, where did you get so much power in court?,' a law student auditing the procedure asked and shook his hand.
Back to the present. 'Well son, if you have to go to court, I'll be there. I already have experience.'
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