Ginsburg Returns to Practice Away From Limelight

Back there they were arguing over a presidential problem named Lewinsky. Out here he was arguing over a podiatric procedure called Babinski.

What a difference 2,600 miles was making last week for lawyer William H. Ginsburg.

As current attorneys for onetime White House intern Monica S. Lewinsky stood by and waited for word about possible presidential DNA tests on a dress worn by their client, her former lawyer was standing before a Pomona jury Friday defending a West Covina doctor accused of medical malpractice.

It was Ginsburg’s first trial since June, when the Century City lawyer ended a splashy 4 1/2-month stint defending Lewinsky in special prosecutor Kenneth W. Starr’s probe of President Clinton.

A veteran lawyer, Ginsburg, 55, is a senior partner in a Century City firm that specializes in medical malpractice and has a good reputation as a trial lawyer. He agreed in January to represent Lewinsky as a favor to her father, Bernard Lewinsky--a Brentwood radiologist and longtime friend.

Back in Washington, Ginsburg’s every move had been scrutinized, every utterance analyzed. But there wasn’t a camera or microphone--or courthouse spectator--in sight when he straightened his trademark bow tie and addressed the jury in Superior Court Judge Roy Norman’s empty courtroom.

He began his closing arguments with a joke about how his son once labeled him as overly talkative. Then he alluded to the political case that earlier this year turned him into America’s most recognizable lawyer.

“I promise you I won’t talk about sex in the legal sector. I’ve had enough of that, I can assure you,” he told the jurors. “I’d like to try to logically reason this case out. Let’s go through this with a minimum of spin. That’s my goal.”

He joked once again about making the judge fall asleep as he had the courtroom lights dimmed so he could use a computerized projector to outline the arguments to his case. “Pardon the misspellings--now you know I typed this,” he said.

For the next 20 minutes a folksy, courtly Ginsburg gently made his case that emergency room physician Alex Van Dyke had done everything right on Sept. 25, 1996, when he examined a car accident victim who had been rushed for treatment to the Citrus Valley Medical Center.

The victim, a 53-year-old construction superintendent who lives in Canyon Lake near San Diego, had crashed after blacking out on the freeway. He later sued Van Dyke and another doctor, claiming they failed to diagnose a spinal cord compression that left him permanently disabled.

Besides being unable to lift heavy weights or climb ladders, the man contended in his lawsuit, he is unable to engage in sexual relations with his wife in the missionary position.

Those assertions were debated during the trial’s two weeks of testimony. In Friday’s closing arguments, Ginsburg touched lightly on them, easily tossing around such medical mouthfuls as “myelopathy,” “radiculopathy,” “diabetic neuropathy” and “Babinski.”

The latter is something doctors call the Babinski reflex--a simple foot-tickling test that can help determine whether accident victims have suffered spinal cord damage. When the bottom of the foot is tickled, the big toe will turn up instead of down like normal if the cord is damaged.

The victim passed the Babinski test, proving there was no sign of spinal cord injury when Van Dyke--a 44-year veteran of emergency room work--examined him, Ginsburg said.

“I’m out of wind,” Ginsburg finally said. He ended with another self-depreciating joke: “Once I asked my wife, ‘Why does everyone take an instant dislike to me?’ Without batting an eye, she said, ‘Because it saves time.’ ”

The jurors laughed and then were dismissed for lunch before beginning their deliberations.

Outside the courtroom, Ginsburg shrugged off being out of the limelight--and being stuck in an obscure Pomona courtroom while big-time Washington lawyers wrapped up the immunity deal he had first tried to hammer out months ago for Lewinsky.

“I’m working again. It’s delightful,” he said. “This is the big time. This is a real court with real jurors.”

Ginsburg said he wasn’t privy to the details of Lewinsky’s immunity agreement. “I have no way of knowing whether it’s my deal or something else’s. I don’t feel vindicated or redeemed. I feel good for the [Lewinsky] family.”

Opposing lawyer Nancy Critelli of Temecula--who suggested to the jurors that her client’s injury was worth perhaps $470,000--declined to comment on Ginsburg’s courtroom work. Did she think jurors would be swayed by the celebrity of the man who set a record one weekend last February by appearing on all five major Sunday political talk shows?

“I really hope not,” she snapped before disappearing into a courthouse elevator.

A pair of lawyers representing the other defendant, Dr. Fares Elghazi, were plenty complimentary, however. They indicated that the assertive demeanor Ginsburg displayed before television cameras (and apparently in negotiations with Starr) was missing in Pomona.

“Hey Bill,” shouted one of them, Robert Fessinger. “He wants to know if you intimidate us!”

So while the Washington lawyers were likely being ferried Friday by limousine to dine on $50 lobster lunches at places like The Palm, Ginsburg and his co-counsel were walking a half-mile down dusty, torn-up sidewalks to Pomona’s tiny Mexico Lindo restaurant. It advertised its $3 luncheon special on a paper place mat taped to its front door.

And after lunch, Ginsburg pulled off in Pomona what he never accomplished in Washington.

The six-man, six-woman jury put William Ginsburg in the winner’s circle. After two hours of deliberation, jurors voted to exonerate Van Dyke and Elghazi.