In Defense of Public Defenders

In my years covering criminal courts, I always had a soft spot for the young deputy public defender.

The court clerk, the bailiff, the court reporter, the court watchers, the opposing counsel, and likely even the judge knew that this five-years-removed-from-law-school attorney was going to get whacked by the jury. Or at least her/his client would. And when you pour your soul and sweat into defending someone, it’s about the same thing.

Public defenders take their lickings because they don’t get handed the cream among clients. They get the guy who throws acid in a girlfriend’s face, or the amateur crook who panics in a robbery and starts firing away.

Many cases you get as a public defender send you afterward to your cubbyhole of an office to kick the cheap government furniture. Because you know you can’t do much to change the system: Poverty produces crime; poor people go to prison. But sometimes, rare maybe, the public defender gets a case to believe in, and wins it.

Lately I’ve had more than a little sympathy for public defender lawyers. You’ve probably heard the news, that the district attorney’s office--the big power archenemy--is investigating the public defender’s office for possible illegal gambling.

It’s actually only a tiny part of a much bigger gambling investigation. And indications are the staff and lawyers in the public defender’s office, with one possible exception, were only engaged in minor league office pool betting. Twenty bucks for an entire football season does not a great crime make.

Even so, it’s a tiny blight on an office that doesn’t always get a lot of respect from the general public to begin with. It’s also a bit of an embarrassment. Someone recently posted a phony flier around the courthouse announcing that the public defender’s annual casino night had been postponed under the circumstances, and a new date would be set later. It made for a good laugh for everybody. But you get the feeling that Public Defender Carl Holmes will be glad when this investigation is over. Make that two investigations. Holmes is conducting his own internal look at all this too.

One reason that the public defender’s office was drawn into this at all--besides a report by a disgruntled employee--is a laughable irony. When a local bookmaker was arrested, the name Carl Holmes with a phone number was found among the man’s things. It turns out--and there is absolutely no question about this--it was a different Carl Holmes.

My guess is it will all die down. Despite their adversarial interests in the courtroom, and often bitter public battles over legal policy, the district attorney and public defender offices in Orange County traditionally have gotten along well.

“Some of the finest lawyers I’ve ever met in this county have been in the public defender’s office,” Chief Assistant Dist. Atty. Maury Evans said.

When this gambling flap first surfaced, Evans sat down with Holmes and the two of them worked out the best way to look into it without disrupting the work of the public defender’s office. You can imagine Holmes’ concern--having prosecutor types going through sensitive files of his attorneys.

But since then, Holmes says, “the D.A.’s investigation has in no way been obtrusive in our operation.”

Results are due by the end of this month. Holmes says his own investigation shows that probably a few people in his office might receive official reprimands. Only one individual might receive punishment any greater, he said. But no one is expected to be fired or arrested. The D.A.’s Evans could not discuss the investigation because it is pending. Evans did say, however, that the principal prosecution targets are outside the public defender’s office and are bigger than office pool betting.

So, if you’ve got a few bucks riding at your office on the NBA finals, you’re pretty safe. But then, if I were a young deputy public defender, I don’t think now is the time I would walk up to Carl Holmes and ask what odds he’d give on tonight’s Utah-Lakers game.

More Than Just Alive: One reader sent me a copy of an A.A. Milne (Winnie the Pooh’s creator) poem to read to my daughter on her sixth birthday. I started to file it away until that date, but then thought perhaps some of you might be celebrating a child’s sixth birthday sometime soon. So here it is; I only wish the person who sent it would call so I could offer my thanks:

When I was One, I had just begun.

When I was Two, I was nearly new.

When I was Three, I was hardly me.

When I was Four, I was not much more.

When I was Five, I was just alive.

But now I am Six. I’m as clever as clever. So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.

Back in Bloom: When George Colouris of Newport Beach sold his Southern California Home & Garden Show in 1991, after running it for 35 years, the new owners had one condition: that Colouris wouldn’t put on a competing show for another five years.

Now that he’s free from that agreement, Colouris is back at the Anaheim Convention Center, this time with the International Home and Flower Show, which starts Saturday and runs for eight days. The show includes room after room of booths sponsored by people in the home improvement field. But Colouris’ conventions also are known for their fields of beautiful flowers. You don’t have to see beauty to enjoy it. Colouris has been blind since birth.

Wrap-Up: Once you’ve spent 38 years at the same place, it’s only natural to be honored when you’re chosen for the top job. But Carl Holmes, the longtime chief deputy recently elevated to public defender, would give just about anything to be demoted. In fact, Holmes hasn’t even moved into the public defender’s office quarters.

Holmes is holding the job for close friend Ronald Y. Butler, who recently stepped down after 16 years as public defender because he is battling advanced stages of cancer.

Even if Butler does not return, Holmes said, “I might never move into that office. Ron and I have been close for many years. I can do the job fine from the office I have.”

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by call-ing the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail tojerry.hicks@latimes.com