In an effort to save money for the remainder of the summer, I have come back to visit North Carolina and my parents until classes begin in the fall.
I spend my days at the Robeson Community College campus library, reading treatises on Florida tort law. Law school is not easy, but the actual practice of law promises to be even more difficult and unforgiving. This is quite the all-consuming world for me, and it takes most of my time and energy. Coming back to my parents' house, though, reminds me of how different the world is for many other people. My parents live very close to Fayetteville and Fort Bragg.
Fort Bragg, the world's largest army base, is home to the Green Berets and the famed 82nd Airborne Division. On a daily basis, planes and helicopters from the base fly over our house, and occasionally in the yard I can hear the low boom of artillery fire.
Just a short drive to the east is Camp Lejeune, the nation's largest Marine Corps base. I used to do work as a civilian on Camp Lejeune, and I remember the large oil paintings in the headquarters of the 2nd Military Expeditionary Force. The paintings depicted the exploits of that unit during the Pacific island-hopping campaign of World War Two.
Many veterans of WWII, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf Wars, and Afghanistan remain in this area after their service is done. Local news outlets report on base activities and base casualties with more detail than the national media. It is sad to read in the paper about a new widow with a small child, or a soldier returning with severe brain damage, or a Marine missing in action in Afghanistan.
Honestly, these are things that I do not contemplate when I am in the middle of a semester in Tallahassee. To be even more honest, I probably will not dwell on it much after I graduate, either, when I am a lawyer out fighting for my clients. It is just too exhausting and depressing.
But I thought here would be a good time to say a simple "Thank You" to the veterans and the active members of the armed services. Because of their sacrifice and determination, I am able to drive from North Carolina to Florida in freedom, to study law at Florida State University, and to work at improving myself in our society. The options available to me in America are non-existent in most other countries of the world. The options are available here because our armed services have fought and continue to fight to preserve them. A blog entry "thank you" is nothing in the way of what our service members deserve, but it is what I can do.
So I say again, Thank You to our veterans and active military members who make our country the greatest on earth. I am appreciative of you and your bravery.
Until Next Time,
Nathan Marshburn
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
The 10,000 Hour Rule
Malcolm Gladwell, author of Outliers: The Story of Success, notes what he calls "the 10,000 hour rule" as a necessary part of individual success. Put briefly, the rule is that one must devote 10,000 hours to performing a specific task in order to become proficient at it. Mayor John Marks of Tallahassee mentioned this rule when he spoke to the Summer for Undergraduates students back in May.
Day by day, I am knocking out those 10,000 hours in regard to the practice of Florida personal injury law. I have completed reading Florida Motor Vehicle No-Fault Law: Personal Injury Protection by Russel Lazega, and yesterday I passed the 600 page mark in Judge Sawaya's Florida Personal Injury Law and Practice with Wrongful Death Actions. Only about 900 more pages to go in that volume.
I am pleased with how much I am learning this summer. My torts professor did a good job covering the major areas during my first semester of law school, but these treatises are delving into great detail and providing me with Florida-specific statutes and case law. If my reading rate stays good, I should have time to tackle Ehrhardt's Florida Evidence before school starts back.
It is fair to say that I am learning more on my own than if I was working at a firm this summer- though I would enjoy getting paid.
Until Next Time,
Nathan Marshburn
Day by day, I am knocking out those 10,000 hours in regard to the practice of Florida personal injury law. I have completed reading Florida Motor Vehicle No-Fault Law: Personal Injury Protection by Russel Lazega, and yesterday I passed the 600 page mark in Judge Sawaya's Florida Personal Injury Law and Practice with Wrongful Death Actions. Only about 900 more pages to go in that volume.
I am pleased with how much I am learning this summer. My torts professor did a good job covering the major areas during my first semester of law school, but these treatises are delving into great detail and providing me with Florida-specific statutes and case law. If my reading rate stays good, I should have time to tackle Ehrhardt's Florida Evidence before school starts back.
It is fair to say that I am learning more on my own than if I was working at a firm this summer- though I would enjoy getting paid.
Until Next Time,
Nathan Marshburn
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Time Travel is Painful
Today, I looked through the latest copy of Western Carolina, the magazine of my alma mater. After reading a couple of articles, I flipped to one of the last pages and scanned down the list of "Class Notes."
My heart hammered hard against the inside of my chest when I saw that one of my old schoolmates had died. I quickly went to my computer and googled his name to try and figure out what happened. Apparently, he was struck by a vehicle while out cycling.
Adam was a Resident Assistant (RA) at Reynolds dormitory when I enrolled as a new freshman back in 1995. That year probably seems like a long time ago to the students in law school with me now. But for me, I can call up the memories just like it was yesterday. 1995 might as well be 2007 in my mind. My body and brain do not feel 15 years older, and if I did not know how old I was, I would swear that I am 23 or younger.
I first met Adam when I walked into the lobby of Reynolds dormitory with my dad to move into my new room. He was one of the very first people I ever met at Western Carolina University. That day, he manned the check-in table with Lanny, the student who would be the RA of my specific hallway. Adam was always very friendly to me in his quiet way. He truly was one of the nicest people I have ever met.
I had not thought about Adam in a few years, but in seeing his name in black and white print in the magazine, in looking at his smiling photo posted on the Internet obituary, the memories came rushing back like an avalanche.
The feelings and emotions went beyond memories and transported me back to the fall semester 1995...
I am standing on the cool green grass of the hill in front of Reynolds dormitory, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. The weather is warm and fantastic as the sun sets. Adam and I toss a frisbee back and forth. Two girls come out of the dorm and stop to watch us. I throw the frisbee harder. I run and jump when I catch it, stealing obvious glances at the girls to see if they are impressed. I've seen them both before. One in particular is stunning to me, and I get up the guts to ask what her name is.
"Alexis," she says.
"Alexis. That is a very pretty name," I reply. "I do not know anyone else with that name."
I may be saying something else to her, though I'm not sure what. Her aura is overwhelming, and I sort of lose my bearings. Eventually she gives me a sort of puzzled smile and walks off down the hill.
The other girl, a pretty redhead with milky white skin stays to watch us. I know her, or rather I know her boyfriend. He is a blond haired exchange student from France. I have been told that he is literally a prince, a descendant of a royal family.
But the redhead is interested in us. More precisely, she is interested in Adam. She walks up to him, and they begin talking quietly together. Adam casually continues tossing the frisbee to me, now paying more attention to her than to our game. Before long, he tells me that he's had enough for the day. As sunset turns to dusk, Adam and the redhead walk back inside Reynolds together. I watch them as they slowly go up the steps to the doors. They walk very close to each other...
Another memory...
Adam and I walk down the hallway in Reynolds dormitory toward his room. He is going to let me borrow a book or something- I can't remember what exactly. He opens his door, and I am surprised at how barren his room is. He basically only has a bed and some chester drawers.
This is the guy who tempts the beautiful redhead away from the prince? The prince has money and wears very nice clothes. He must have lots of toys. But here is Adam, with his soft-spoken personality, his modest dorm room, his unpretentious life, and the redhead is interested in him.
I stand with Adam (there is no furniture to sit) and talk with him for a while. He tells me that he wants to teach biology when he graduates...
I think Adam moved off campus after the 1995-96 school year, and I had no more contact with him.
1995 was a formative and very happy year for me, but learning of Adam's death brought back the memories too strongly. I was there. I could smell the fresh coat of paint that August in Reynolds dormitory, I could see Alexis, her smooth silky skin and greenish-grey eyes standing right in front of me, her heart breaking sweetness, smiling so happily. I could feel how young my mind was, not knowing how to react to Alexis or the redhead. I could feel my mind trying to take in this entirely new and magical world in Cullowhee, North Carolina.
It was too much. My chest began to ache with a serious pain.
Adam is gone, now. Part of 1995 is gone, now. Part of that fantastic world is gone, now.
And I do not know how to handle it.
I do not know what happens when you die. I do not know what to do when 1995 is suddenly 15 years ago and everything is changing.
Is that time- are those moments- really gone forever? Is Adam really gone forever?
This existence is so incredibly beautiful and so incredibly horrifying at the same time.
I miss Adam, my old RA.
My heart hammered hard against the inside of my chest when I saw that one of my old schoolmates had died. I quickly went to my computer and googled his name to try and figure out what happened. Apparently, he was struck by a vehicle while out cycling.
Adam was a Resident Assistant (RA) at Reynolds dormitory when I enrolled as a new freshman back in 1995. That year probably seems like a long time ago to the students in law school with me now. But for me, I can call up the memories just like it was yesterday. 1995 might as well be 2007 in my mind. My body and brain do not feel 15 years older, and if I did not know how old I was, I would swear that I am 23 or younger.
I first met Adam when I walked into the lobby of Reynolds dormitory with my dad to move into my new room. He was one of the very first people I ever met at Western Carolina University. That day, he manned the check-in table with Lanny, the student who would be the RA of my specific hallway. Adam was always very friendly to me in his quiet way. He truly was one of the nicest people I have ever met.
I had not thought about Adam in a few years, but in seeing his name in black and white print in the magazine, in looking at his smiling photo posted on the Internet obituary, the memories came rushing back like an avalanche.
The feelings and emotions went beyond memories and transported me back to the fall semester 1995...
I am standing on the cool green grass of the hill in front of Reynolds dormitory, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. The weather is warm and fantastic as the sun sets. Adam and I toss a frisbee back and forth. Two girls come out of the dorm and stop to watch us. I throw the frisbee harder. I run and jump when I catch it, stealing obvious glances at the girls to see if they are impressed. I've seen them both before. One in particular is stunning to me, and I get up the guts to ask what her name is.
"Alexis," she says.
"Alexis. That is a very pretty name," I reply. "I do not know anyone else with that name."
I may be saying something else to her, though I'm not sure what. Her aura is overwhelming, and I sort of lose my bearings. Eventually she gives me a sort of puzzled smile and walks off down the hill.
The other girl, a pretty redhead with milky white skin stays to watch us. I know her, or rather I know her boyfriend. He is a blond haired exchange student from France. I have been told that he is literally a prince, a descendant of a royal family.
But the redhead is interested in us. More precisely, she is interested in Adam. She walks up to him, and they begin talking quietly together. Adam casually continues tossing the frisbee to me, now paying more attention to her than to our game. Before long, he tells me that he's had enough for the day. As sunset turns to dusk, Adam and the redhead walk back inside Reynolds together. I watch them as they slowly go up the steps to the doors. They walk very close to each other...
Another memory...
Adam and I walk down the hallway in Reynolds dormitory toward his room. He is going to let me borrow a book or something- I can't remember what exactly. He opens his door, and I am surprised at how barren his room is. He basically only has a bed and some chester drawers.
This is the guy who tempts the beautiful redhead away from the prince? The prince has money and wears very nice clothes. He must have lots of toys. But here is Adam, with his soft-spoken personality, his modest dorm room, his unpretentious life, and the redhead is interested in him.
I stand with Adam (there is no furniture to sit) and talk with him for a while. He tells me that he wants to teach biology when he graduates...
I think Adam moved off campus after the 1995-96 school year, and I had no more contact with him.
1995 was a formative and very happy year for me, but learning of Adam's death brought back the memories too strongly. I was there. I could smell the fresh coat of paint that August in Reynolds dormitory, I could see Alexis, her smooth silky skin and greenish-grey eyes standing right in front of me, her heart breaking sweetness, smiling so happily. I could feel how young my mind was, not knowing how to react to Alexis or the redhead. I could feel my mind trying to take in this entirely new and magical world in Cullowhee, North Carolina.
It was too much. My chest began to ache with a serious pain.
Adam is gone, now. Part of 1995 is gone, now. Part of that fantastic world is gone, now.
And I do not know how to handle it.
I do not know what happens when you die. I do not know what to do when 1995 is suddenly 15 years ago and everything is changing.
Is that time- are those moments- really gone forever? Is Adam really gone forever?
This existence is so incredibly beautiful and so incredibly horrifying at the same time.
I miss Adam, my old RA.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Impressions from Jury Duty
A couple of weeks ago, I sat on a jury for the very first time. The experience was brief. Jury selection took place on a Friday morning, and the trial itself only lasted for half a day during the next week.
The defendant stood charged with driving under the influence and possession of drug paraphernalia. To make the story short, the jury quickly decided "Not Guilty" on both counts.
If I had to bet money, I would say the defendant was guilty of both counts. But you have to be more certain than that under the "Beyond a Reasonable Doubt" standard in criminal law. I believed the state trooper's version of the story. The problem was that the trooper's testimony was the only evidence. The trooper simply said that he smelled alcohol coming from the defendant, that his eyes were blood-shot and his face flushed... That was it. The defendant refused to do a breathalyzer test, and he also refused to do the field sobriety tests. As a result of his refusal, under Florida law the defendant is automatically guilty of a misdemeanor and loses his driving privileges for one year.
As for the possession of drug paraphernalia charge, the state failed to produce the paraphernalia. Due to a mix up in schedules, the state trooper was unable to retrieve it from the evidence cage. So, we voted "not guilty" on both counts.
I did learn quite a bit from my jury service, though. First, I was surprised at how simple and short voir dire (the jury selection process) was. At Parks & Crump last summer, I learned that jury selection is the most important part of the trial. As an attorney told me at a convention in San Francisco last year: "You can not win a trial with a bad jury, and you can still lose it with a good one."
If I were an attorney on either side during this case, I would have wanted to ask many more questions of each potential juror, to try and get a feel for their beliefs on drug use, alcohol consumption, and law enforcement. But it seemed to me that the lawyer for each side barely scratched the surface with us. I do not know how either of them could have gotten a good read on me or anyone else. Perhaps they are more astute than I am in this area.
On the other hand, a long and tedious question and answer process in jury selection ran the risk of turning the jury against the lawyer. Sitting in the jury box, I could see how too many questions, how taking so much time would irritate a juror. So, it is a bit of a catch-22 for the lawyer. I also wanted to ask more personal questions, such as whether anyone had ever been charged with DUI and, if so, what there experience was. But again, these questions could have backfired on myself and my client.
Ours was a half day trial. I wonder what jury selection would be like for a two week civil trial with millions of dollars at stake? Or a lengthy murder case? How much longer would the lawyers take to make their selections?
For practice, I also tried to use the lawyers' questions to get a read on each potential juror. As it turned out, once we got back into the deliberation room to decide the case, I was way off on one person in particular.
There was an older man on our jury that, from the selection process, I thought would be solid for the prosecution. He seemed conservative and patient to me. During the trial, he took no notes and rarely looked up at the lawyers.
But in the deliberation room after closing arguments, he changed. He spoke up quickly and staunchly for the defense. It would have been very difficult for the rest of us to move him if we thought the verdict should be guilty.
Coming out of the courthouse after the trial ended, I did not feel very good. I did not enjoy siding against the state trooper, and I felt like a guilty person had gotten off. In truth, though, ours was the proper verdict. The state has to put on more evidence. I also felt like jury selection is going to be more unpredictable than I hoped. For such an important part of the trial, I was disappointed that I did not recognize how the older man was going to go in deliberation. I need more work in this area. It seems like speed-psychology, and I doubt that is something I can learn from books or classes.
On a positive note, I think jury selection will be just as unpredictable for lawyers on the other side. You are always rolling the dice when you put an issue to a jury.
Truthfully, the best training I have ever received for these necessary skills came on a scorching hot car lot in Las Vegas. Perhaps this sounds strange, but I would not mind being back there again this summer doing the same thing. My job as a salesman out in the desert opened up a new and practical way of thinking, and I am trying hard not to forget what I learned. It would be nice to see all of my fellow salesman buddies again and to keep in practice with that trade.
My experience as a car salesman in Las Vegas taught me so much about what motivates customers, what turns customers off, what scares them, what excites them, and what convinces them. It is absolutely essential to understand this about jurors as well in order to be the most effective advocate for my client.
Until Next Time,
Nathan Marshburn
The defendant stood charged with driving under the influence and possession of drug paraphernalia. To make the story short, the jury quickly decided "Not Guilty" on both counts.
If I had to bet money, I would say the defendant was guilty of both counts. But you have to be more certain than that under the "Beyond a Reasonable Doubt" standard in criminal law. I believed the state trooper's version of the story. The problem was that the trooper's testimony was the only evidence. The trooper simply said that he smelled alcohol coming from the defendant, that his eyes were blood-shot and his face flushed... That was it. The defendant refused to do a breathalyzer test, and he also refused to do the field sobriety tests. As a result of his refusal, under Florida law the defendant is automatically guilty of a misdemeanor and loses his driving privileges for one year.
As for the possession of drug paraphernalia charge, the state failed to produce the paraphernalia. Due to a mix up in schedules, the state trooper was unable to retrieve it from the evidence cage. So, we voted "not guilty" on both counts.
I did learn quite a bit from my jury service, though. First, I was surprised at how simple and short voir dire (the jury selection process) was. At Parks & Crump last summer, I learned that jury selection is the most important part of the trial. As an attorney told me at a convention in San Francisco last year: "You can not win a trial with a bad jury, and you can still lose it with a good one."
If I were an attorney on either side during this case, I would have wanted to ask many more questions of each potential juror, to try and get a feel for their beliefs on drug use, alcohol consumption, and law enforcement. But it seemed to me that the lawyer for each side barely scratched the surface with us. I do not know how either of them could have gotten a good read on me or anyone else. Perhaps they are more astute than I am in this area.
On the other hand, a long and tedious question and answer process in jury selection ran the risk of turning the jury against the lawyer. Sitting in the jury box, I could see how too many questions, how taking so much time would irritate a juror. So, it is a bit of a catch-22 for the lawyer. I also wanted to ask more personal questions, such as whether anyone had ever been charged with DUI and, if so, what there experience was. But again, these questions could have backfired on myself and my client.
Ours was a half day trial. I wonder what jury selection would be like for a two week civil trial with millions of dollars at stake? Or a lengthy murder case? How much longer would the lawyers take to make their selections?
For practice, I also tried to use the lawyers' questions to get a read on each potential juror. As it turned out, once we got back into the deliberation room to decide the case, I was way off on one person in particular.
There was an older man on our jury that, from the selection process, I thought would be solid for the prosecution. He seemed conservative and patient to me. During the trial, he took no notes and rarely looked up at the lawyers.
But in the deliberation room after closing arguments, he changed. He spoke up quickly and staunchly for the defense. It would have been very difficult for the rest of us to move him if we thought the verdict should be guilty.
Coming out of the courthouse after the trial ended, I did not feel very good. I did not enjoy siding against the state trooper, and I felt like a guilty person had gotten off. In truth, though, ours was the proper verdict. The state has to put on more evidence. I also felt like jury selection is going to be more unpredictable than I hoped. For such an important part of the trial, I was disappointed that I did not recognize how the older man was going to go in deliberation. I need more work in this area. It seems like speed-psychology, and I doubt that is something I can learn from books or classes.
On a positive note, I think jury selection will be just as unpredictable for lawyers on the other side. You are always rolling the dice when you put an issue to a jury.
Truthfully, the best training I have ever received for these necessary skills came on a scorching hot car lot in Las Vegas. Perhaps this sounds strange, but I would not mind being back there again this summer doing the same thing. My job as a salesman out in the desert opened up a new and practical way of thinking, and I am trying hard not to forget what I learned. It would be nice to see all of my fellow salesman buddies again and to keep in practice with that trade.
My experience as a car salesman in Las Vegas taught me so much about what motivates customers, what turns customers off, what scares them, what excites them, and what convinces them. It is absolutely essential to understand this about jurors as well in order to be the most effective advocate for my client.
Until Next Time,
Nathan Marshburn
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