It’s interesting to see how private defense lawyers develop over time, and how they react to the problems and issues that have confronted us forever.  Bad Court Thingy, our young anonymous criminal defense lawyer, has enjoyed his first late night telephone call from a client.

Last night, I had my first late night phone call from someone needing help. It was a lady I had spoke with earlier in the day who wanted to hire me. She managed to call me late at night, since when I called her to set up the appointment, I used my cell phone to call her. Of course, she’s telling me that she doesn’t have the money to hire me, but could I please tell her what to do anyway.

Ah, the memories.  Every private criminal defense lawyer remembers those late night calls.  The desperate wife crying that she just found out that her husband was arrested.  “Please help, please.”  I would calmly explain that it would be about 24 hours until he appeared before a judge (the time frame in NYC), and there was nothing to do until then.

When I was starting out, the situation was a little different.  Clients never had my cellphone number, mostly because there was no such thing as cellphones.  They would call my office, my answering service would take the message and, per my instructions, would forward the call to my home.  They had strict instructions that the only “emergency” was a new arrest, no matter what the caller said.  With some clients, everything was an emergency.

Back then, it was necessary to take the call because a potential client, during that period of huge anxiety, would retain the first lawyer who answered the phone.  Even though there was nothing to do, they would not wait until office hours and somebody else would be earning the fee instead of you.  This was not a good way to get business.

In time, things change.  As young attorneys reach a more comfortable place in their careers, they adapt.  They develop a balance between their personal lives and their profession.  Trust me, the husband of a criminal defense lawyer will not be pleased when a call comes in at 2 am because the client “has a question,” meaning that they couldn’t sleep and need some hand-holding.  Clients don’t “own” lawyers.  Lawyers are allowed to have actual lives.  Lawyers’ spouses are too.

Eventually, the lawyer reaches a stage in his or her career where his clientèle becomes more stable and homogeneous.  We no longer get the “yellow pages” type calls, searching for a lawyer in desperation.  Our clients are familiar to us and with us.  New cases are referred to us, with the explanation that we will be there and take care of it, and there’s no need to call until the morning.  It will be okay. 

We are no longer fighting for every client.  In fact, we turn away more than we take on, a simple requirement of logistics.  But we have also made some value choices about our lives.  We come to appreciate that no one dies thinking that they didn’t spend enough time at work.  We realize the need to set limits, and are fully prepared to suffer any negative consequences as a result of those limits.  It’s a trade-off, but a trade-off that we are happy to make. 

Bad Court Thingy expressed his thoughts:

My philosophy is that when I leave the office/courthouse/jail to go home, then I’m done for the day. I need to keep a barrier between my job and the rest of my life, I’d go insane if I didn’t. When I’m making dinner, or laying in bed reading (as I was last night) or fishing; the last thing I want to do is be interrupted by work.

He then asked “his readership” how they handled the situation.  While I’m not clear on what he means by “his readership,” he was given some advice by a handful of us lawyers who have lived through this before.  Some place a higher value on getting the call, and the case.  Others place a higher value on maintaining a separation between work and life. 

He’ll figure it out for himself.  Or his wife will tell him (as mine told me).  Either way, this is just one of the common steps in the development of a private criminal defense lawyer’s career.  Ah, the memories.