Stories from T.W. Davidson
I was at the post office late this afternoon when the phone rang. Tied up, I could not answer. A few minutes later, I retrieved the message.
“Hello, my name is Joe Smith and I am calling about a wallet. There was a note in the wallet signed by you, with your number. I would like to get the wallet back to its owner. Please return my call.”
Last week in Far-Off County, I was the pro tem prosecutor in a felony case involving timber theft. This was odd for me. I am a defense attorney. I bleed the Constitution. I do not trust the government (and have no reason to). I deeply believe our justice system is flawed, biased in favor of the State (in both law and resources), and unfair to most criminal defendants.
I answer the phone. A young man asks me if I am who I am and if I do what I do. I say yes. He says he has a legal problem and asks to make an appointment with me. I say sure and give him a time to meet me at my office.
Then the conversation becomes more interesting.
"I hear you collect stories," says the young man.
"True," I say.