Mozart of the Courtroom

Today in the courtroom, I witnessed a master at work. Closing arguments, our last chance to talk to the jury... the courtroom packed with curiosity seekers and the media... and this lawyer, whom I can't name, this lawyer gave a closing statement that made spectators cry. I couldn't tell if any jurors had tears in their eyes--I was thirty or forty feet away--but I do recall half a dozen of them laughing out loud at the cracks this lawyer made about the government's misconduct in this case, and eight or nine of them turning to glare at prosecutors when he pointed out an especially egregious thing they'd done.

And he made people cry.

This guy--let's call him Nameless Genius, Esquire--is to the courtroom what Mozart is to music, Tiger Woods to the golf course, Sarah Hughes to ice (here's her Olympic Gold-winning performance, as a point of reference: a sixteen-year-old girl landing jumps that usually only men can land, with the supreme grace that most women can only wish they had). I'm describing other people because I can't say in detail what this guy did--it's highly unwise to blog about your job.

So a fuller description will have to wait until I put it, slightly disguised, in a novel. Look for it. And note--I'm talking about the same lawyer I was talking about in my last post. We think he has seventeen personalities. Most of them are good; today, I must say, he was making the right people cry.