Update: One spin on the numbers is that we shouldn't really concern ourselves with all the confirmation of district judges (around 2/3 of the number), as if they aren't quite important on a day to day basis. The article notes the appellate judge blockages are 10 of 45, which is still rather small given the rhetoric, but noteworthy. The reason for the last three (less publicized) blockages was discussed here, and involves lack of senatorial courtesy, aggravated by the heavy hand of the President. Oh, and the openings were there because Clinton nominees were not acted upon. The most recent numbers are 211 brought to vote, 201 confirmed.
I had an occasion last Saturday morning to view the morning arraignment session at the Bronx Criminal Court. The session was scheduled to begin between 9:30-10, but did so closer to 10:30. For those not familiar with the process, arraignment is the first court appearance of criminal defendants and ideally occurs within twenty-four hours of arrest. The charges are officially read [or rather the relevant criminal code stated], bail is set, plea bargains are made (the arraignment judge is not allowed to accept pleas in felony cases), and the next court date is set.*
It took place in a small courtroom [known as a "term," for you Law and Order viewers] dominated by audience benches. The actual official area was pretty small with the assistant district attorney and various legal aid attorneys standing behind little podiums on both sides of a small platform. No opposite sides of the court tables for this session of our judicial process at work.
On a door stage right, the defendants enter, arms behind their back, as if they were wearing handcuffs. Each defendant is dealt with in a few minutes. The first matter is "notices," which primarily concerns what evidence or testimony (will the defendant testify at the grand jury?) will be offered later on.
The judge also sometimes determined if there was a "disposition" (plea arrangement) on the table. The judge on hand was fairly liberal; one thing he made sure to do is to avoid a situation where the defendant's probation terms would be violated. For instance, one was sentenced to a "violation," which is not technically a "crime," though in his case it involved a few days in jail.
Also, the defendant generally had low bail (one person with past priors got $3000) or was "released on own recognizance" (ROR), which means no bail. The legal aid attorneys, who all were characters in their own right, generally noted their connections to the community and so forth. One saw them beforehand seek out family members and so forth ("anyone here for X?") to get such information.
The legal aid lawyers (technically, not all the lawyers on hand were members of Legal Aid per se, but most were) all could be characters on one of the sundry law programs out there. One was an older woman, who looked like a stereotypical "been there, so that" liberal veteran. I can see her being some activist in the sixties. Another, who made a cameo appearance, wore blue jeans and had long hair -- a William Kunstler sort.
A third was a former prosecutor who tried a bit too much to pattern himself after a Law and Order defense attorney with the use of quips and "can you believe what they are trying to pull" comments that wasn't quite appropriate to the summary nature of the proceeding. There were also a few newbie sorts and a proper looking male defense attorney as well.
The assistant district attorney on hand was a five-year veteran (another took care of a couple cases), but she looked pretty young. Her outfit, which Marisa Tomei of My Cousin Vinnie might approve, might have added to such an impression. She wore high heels, a mini, had longish hair, and a fair amount of makeup. Oh, she also was very professional, and straightforward in her approach.
The judge was a black man in his early fifties, who everyone noted was a fair and sometimes amusing sort, though one that was sharp tongued at times. This was seen with a case involving a sixteen-year-old girl (white, I believe from Maine, but maybe not) who stole her father's car. The D.A. accepted the father's request to drop the charges (he was also in the audience), but the girl did spend the night in jail. So, the judge asks her how she liked it. Cocky youth that she is, she noted that it wasn't as bad as some people say. This didn't go over quite well.
Many of the cases were drug related,** a couple involved improper use of a vehicle, William Kunstler took a gambling case, and there was even a murder case (ah, so that is what an alleged murderer looks like). The defendants were generally not as cocky and/or stupid as that girl, though one couldn't quite understand the logic of accepting a plea to a violation (no jail time, no record) on a drug charge. A few had some problems in the past with paying fines or doing required community service. This also pissed off the judge.
A fairly interesting look at the judicial process at its most cut and dried.
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* By law, a criminal case in the state of New York must be put in front of a grand jury within five days (six in the case of weekends and legal holidays) when the defendant is not free on bail. If it is not, the defendant must be released from custody. In other cases, the "adjournment date" (the next court appearance) is a more open question.
** Interesting fact for city pot users: one generally gets a free pass. The first simple possession offense, as long as you don't have something else on your record, is dropped unless you are not a good little boy or girl for a set period of time. On the other hand, the time you can spend in custody waiting for your arraignment suggests the "there's no free lunch" rule still applies.