Public Defender Looks Forward to Courtroom Comeback

Ronald Y. Butler was one of the top homicide defense attorneys in Orange County when he decided eight years ago to give up trial work. Now he’s finally coming back to the courtroom.

The 54-year-old lawyer had a good reason to stop representing murder defendants in court. The Orange County Board of Supervisors in 1981 appointed him public defender, giving him major administrative responsibilities.

Butler is still the county’s public defender, with a team of deputies that’s grown from some 70 lawyers to 124. But he recently decided it was time to show his staff he still knows how to speak to a jury.

“It feels good to be a lawyer again,” Butler said.

The client is David Lee Schoenecker, 48, who faces a possible death penalty if convicted in the May 5 shooting death of his wife Gail at their Anaheim Hills home. Schoenecker confessed to the shooting in a letter to an Orange County newspaper columnist.

The public defender’s office has been appointed to represent Schoenecker. Butler surprised his staff by announcing he would take the case himself.

“We think it’s great,” said one veteran homicide attorney in the public defender’s office. “It’s a tremendous morale booster when the boss is willing to take on the tough cases himself.”

When Butler was appointed by the supervisors on May 13, 1981, he told reporters that he hoped to continue working in the courtroom.

But it didn’t happen.

“I really intended to do some trial work, but it seemed almost as soon as I was appointed the proverbial fan started getting hit,” Butler said.

The first crisis occurred when Sheriff Brad Gates accused Butler’s office of interfering with police work. A deputy public defender had telephoned murder suspect Thomas Edwards, who was in custody in Maryland, and told him to keep his mouth shut. Gates complained to the Board of Supervisors that Butler had overstepped his jurisdiction, since the public defender’s office did not yet represent Edwards.

A blue-ribbon commission of judicial experts appointed by the supervisors came down strongly on Butler’s side. But the incident made Butler no friends on the board. It left constant pressure on him as he fought for a better budget and more staff.

“I thought that after a while the administrative duties would start to fall in place and I could begin to look toward trial work,” Butler said. “But the work in the office just never made it possible.”

But early this year, Butler said, he decided it was time to get back to taking cases himself, especially if the right case came along.

And the Shoenecker case, he said, appeared made to order.

“Mental cases were something of a specialty of mine. This is a case I can really believe in,” he said.

Butler’s best-known homicide case before he became public defender was that of Edward Charles Allaway, who killed seven people in a rampage at Cal State Fullerton in 1976.

Butler, a deputy public defender at the time, was successful in getting a hung jury--the members couldn’t agree on whether Allaway had been insane when the crimes were committed. Both Butler and prosecutors agreed to let the case be decided then by the trial judge, Warren S. Knight, who sided with Butler. Allaway, the judge ruled, was not guilty by reason of insanity. Allaway remains today in a state mental hospital.

Butler had other murder trials after Allaway. But when Public Defender Frank Williams died in 1981, Butler and two others in the office, Christopher W. Strople and C. Thomas McDonald, became candidates to replace him.

When the board selected Butler, McDonald became his chief deputy. Strople later became a Municipal Court judge. When McDonald left the office to become co-counsel for serial killer Randy Steven Kraft, he was replaced by Carl C. Holmes. Holmes is not only highly popular with most of the deputies, but has become close to Butler.

Butler acknowledges that his confidence in Holmes’ ability to keep the office running smoothly helped convince him he could take time out for courtroom work.

Butler will be assisted on the Schoenecker case by Carol E. Lavacot, a legal motions specialist in the office. Lavacot said she is looking forward to it, convinced that Butler is going to surprise the legal community that eight years of administration hasn’t dulled his courtroom talents.

“It may take me a while to get back into the rhythm of a trial,” Butler said. “But it’s going to be easier knowing I’ve got a fantastic staff to help me.”