by Julia Dohan
The Nebraska Public Interest Law Fund (NPILF) provides a limited number of stipends to University of Nebraska College of Law students who secure public interest positions with a host organization that serves an unmet legal need.
Julia Dohan ('20), a 2019 NPILF recipient, worked in the Fort Collins office of the Colorado State Public Defender during the summer following her 2L year. In Part I, Julia reflected on some of the things she took away from the experience. In Part II below, Julia writes about her first jury trial – the culmination of her summer experience.
This summer was extraordinary. I felt so much more comfortable at the podium, in docket, each week than I had the week before. As the end of the internship approached so did my trial, and my nerves escalated quickly — so much so that I was not really sure if this was something I could actually do in the future, or at all. I liked docket. I felt in control even when things got a little chaotic or things were changing on the spot… but trial was absolutely daunting. I could not count how many hours I spent working on my cross-examination. I wrote hundreds of questions that were cut and reworded and reorganized. I was not sure if I would get it right or feel comfortable enough to ask. Everyone kept telling me that it was clear how well I knew the case… but I did not feel that way.
I had been up every two hours or so all night long. My opening statement on repeat in my head. Finally, the morning of trial arrived. It was oddly calming. I went to Walgreens and talked with a man waiting outside for the store to open. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a disposable hospital shirt. I did not know where he came from — and I did not ask — but we talked, I gave him the money he needed for a prescription, and bought a Dr Pepper and a box of Cheez-Its because I knew that would be the only thing I would be able to eat. Then he asked why I was so dressed up. When I told him I had a trial, he asked what side I was on and nodded when I answered, “Defense”. He wished me luck and walked away. That morning, that conversation reminded me what I was doing. The trial was not about me.
I sat down at counsel table and I was calm. I scribbled notes to the lead attorney throughout voire dire and was so pleased when he agreed with my suggestions for strikes. We were on the same page. The DA’s second chair gave her opening and so did I. I went through each story the 911-caller had told, the relationship between the caller and my client that the police failed to find out about, and everything else the police failed to do, from seeking corroborating witnesses in this busy parking lot to even going near the car, much less searching it. She objected in the middle to argumentativeness, but I had prepared my response — something to the effect of, “Your Honor, everything I have said and am about to say will be shown by the evidence and testimony here today.” As I was saying… I rounded the corner of counsel table and saw my support in the gallery. Smiling faces from our office. I sat down and saw my lead’s response in the Skype chat, “F---in awesome”.
The Judge instructed the People to call their first witness. This 911-caller was the star witness—the only person who could say that my client was driving—and they could not find him. So, they called the law enforcement officer closest to the courthouse. The judge was not happy. But the cop arrived and it was go-time. I pulled out my cross questions and his reports, and took off. This horrible, daunting thing became something that I was just doing. I loved every minute. Rearranging cross chapters at the podium; getting the answers I wanted, and the jury needed to hear; withstanding objections… I had had moments when I felt like a real attorney in docket. But, this entire trial day was bathed in that feeling.
Certainly they would not call all three cops… or so I thought. There they went trying to use every minute they could to prolong the trial and give them more time to find this 911-caller — going so far as to request a bench warrant for his noncompliance with the subpoena. By the end of the day, we knew that the entire case hinged on that caller. The cops had answered just as expected. They did not pull our client over. They did not see him driving. They did not corroborate the witness’s account of the client driving. The did not do a lot of things. All of this woven through the trial from opening statements. And, we knew the judge would not continue the trial beyond the next day. Continuing just past five o’clock, we all sat in the dark, in utter silence, and watched a nineteen-minute long surveillance video play showing the client walk about the liquor store to end day one.
The next morning, we were ready for the case to be dismissed; we were hungry. The People called the third officer and began with the whole event from the beginning. I objected, "Cumulative, Your Honor, we’ve heard this twice already. We know there were three officers there. Two have already testified to the same thing." The judge sustained my objection, noting "We need to hear something new from this officer." More testimony. "Objection: cumulative." Sustained. Again and again. The DA sat down. I stood at the podium and asked three questions. "No further questions, Your Honor." The 911-caller never showed, and the People rested. The lead attorney made the motion for judgment of acquittal. The judge left the bench to do research, later allowed supplement to each side’s argument, and then made her ruling. The defense’s motion was GRANTED. We walked our client out of the courtroom. Case dismissed.
Julia has accepted a postgraduate position with the Colorado State Public Defender and will begin working as a Deputy State Public Defender in the Fort Collins office later this year.