A Good Time to go to Law School

A recent poll taken by the Florida Bar shows the average income of lawyers in Florida has risen to $110,000 during the past two years. That is up from $100,000 in 2003. The rise in income does not appear to be the result of additional hours at the office. The same poll showed that private practice lawyers spent around 50 hours per week in the office in 2005-2006. That number is roughly the same as those reported for the last six (6) years.

Other income statistics of note show the following median incomes for the corresponding years: $85,000(2001); $82,000(1999); $75,000(1997).

A good time to go to law school! Might I put in a plug for my Alma Mater, Florida State University.

Reflections on My Time In "Paper Chase" Land

I thought I might take a brief hiatus from dispensing legal advice to reflect back upon my time in law school. If this post is received well I might devote additional Fridays to some of the many surreal experiences I had while a law student at The Florida State University College of Law. Surreal, but nice.

The Spitter
I remember walking into Florida Con Law I for the first time. It was my second semester of law school and I now felt like a seasoned veteran. I had been through the fire of the first semester's end of semester exams and had done well (averaging a B+). I am not one of those people who gets an 88 on a law school exam and acts like he's disappointed. My B+ average put me in the top third and that was good enough for me. Sure beat a poke in the eye with a hot stick anyway.

I was looking forward to having my skull full of mush filled with grand discourses on the lofty document of grandeur that is the Florida Constitution. Just kidding. I was really just wanting to find out how pregnant pigs and a monorail train had somehow ended up in the Consitution.

I had been told that a new highly qualified professor was scheduled to teach the class. He was a judge in his previous life and had recently ascended (or descended depending on your view of those who teach and do not practice) to the heights of the law school professor. As was my custom I entered the classroom and took a seat in the front row. Not long after I sat down, a distinguished looking gentleman entered the room, walked down the aisle which sloped to the front of the room (stadium seating) and opened up his briefcase. He took out some chalk and wrote his name and the name of the class on the board. He then turned around and began to address the class.

I will never forget the first words I ever heard him speak. Not so much for what he said, but for the way he said it. "My name is Professor So-And-So and this is Florida Con Law I." The words were moving and spoken with a great deal of feeling. At least for those of us in the front row. You see, Professor So-And-So was a spitter. When he spoke, a light mist sprayed out of his mouth and onto those of us in the front row (the feeling part). We all wanted to move (the moving part).

I had seen people roll their tongues when they spoke. I even know a guy from Swaziland who can make tiny clicks with his tongue when he speaks. But this was the first time I had ever seen anyone who could seamlessly spit and talk at the same time. One of my friends turned to me and said, "He's a spit talker." The whole situation seemed like it should have been the topic of a Seinfeld episode. The next time we met for the class I was comfortably seated in the back row well out of range of the Spitter. I calculated that anyone sitting in the fourth row or further back was out of his range unless the professor walked up the aisle.

Several days into the class one of the students wore a yellow raincoat into class. It hadn't rained in a week.

Lawyer Lawyer, Pants On Fire

Have you heard the one about how you can tell if an attorney is lying? His lips are moving. Or how about the young lawyer wanting to impress the first client coming into his office, picked up the phone and said, "I'm sorry, but I have a tremendous case load and won't be able to look into this for at least a month." He then hung up, turned to the young man in his office and asked, "What can I do for you, sir?" "Nothing," replied the young man. "I'm just here to hook up your phone." These are just two of millions of lawyer jokes dealing with one issue: Lawyer ethics.

Before I went to law school I thought of law in the United States as a concrete, reliable source of rules derived from the Constitution and based on principles of right and wrong. To get at the law, all you had to do was blow back the atmospheric heavens and there it sat in all of its glory. Law school changed all of that; especially when it came to ethics.

Real Life Ethics Scenario
One real-life legal situation illustrates how the ethics I held prior to law school were at stark odds with those promoted by the American Bar Association. The case involved a defense attorney who represented a man accused (and eventually convicted) of the first degree murder of two five year old girls. The girls' bodies had not been found. At some point before the trial the accused told his attorney that he had committed the crime and described in detail the location of the bodies.

At trial, the defense attorney represented his client as best he could. He questioned the methods used by the investigating officers, provided alternative scenarios of what could have happened to the girls, pointed out that no bodies had been found and otherwise represented his client with zeal. He was required to do so under the applicable code of ethics. He watched the parents of the girls sit in the courtroom with tears in their eyes as the prosecution painted the picture of two brutal homicides.

Despite his best efforts his client was convicted of the crime. The parents were somewhat relieved by the verdict and requested that the murderer tell them where the bodies were buried. The parents sought closure. The murderer refused. The parents then turned to the defense attorney and asked whether he knew where the bodies were buried. It was apparent from the look on his face that he knew but the code of ethics required him to remain silent. You see, the code of ethics values the attorney/client relationship over the peace of mind and closure sought by the parents.

The defense attorney's conscience nagged him during the trial and continued to do so through several lengthy appeals. After the conclusion of the last appeal, the attorney's conscience got the best of him. Through an anonymous letter, he revealed to the parents the location of the bodies of their daughters. The murder weapon (a knife I believe) was found with the girls which served to vindicate the verdict of guilty. The attorney's conscience was free, but his legal troubles had just begun.

It was discovered that the anonymous letter had come from the attorney. He was brought before his state bar accused of violating the attorney/client privilege and eventually disbarred. When confronted with whether he sent the anonymous letter the attorney admitted he had. He did not lie about his involvement. My ethics before law school say that he did the right thing. The correct answer on the ethics exam is that he failed miserably. No wonder there are so many jokes about the ethics of lawyers.