In the late 80’s, Ed, a Real Estate Agent, contacted me about a problem he was having. He owned a house in Oshawa that he was using as an investment property and leasing it. The problem was that he had two tenants, one leasing the first floor and one leasing the basement. At the time, basement apartments were generally contrary to municipal by-laws.
Ed had been charged with a by-law infraction which required a court attendance.
Ed asked for my assistance in dealing with the matter. I advised him that he had little chance in obtaining a not guilty finding. He was very concerned about the matter, and eventually persuaded me in attending with him on the trial date. I expected a finding of guilt and a fine of about $500.00. Ed still asked for my attendance.
I don’t recall exactly what time of year the trial took place, but the weather was sunny and mild and the drive uneventful.
When we arrived at the courtroom there were about a dozen women who were there as an “accused” or were representing their spouses. The only males in the courtroom beside Ed and myself were the Judge, Crown Attorney, and the building inspector.
We were about number 4 or 5 on a list of about a dozen cases.
One after another the charge of breaching the municipal by-law concerning basement apartments was read, each accused pled guilty, the facts of the case were read into record, and the Judge fined the individual $500.00.
After observing the first two cases, Ed was looking pretty forlorn. By the third case, I advised Ed that I thought we had a good shot at a not guilty finding. He was to say the least suspect and was ready to pay the $500 fine.
Our case was finally called. I took my place with Ed at the defendant’s table. The Judge asked for the charge to be read. He then asked for a plea. When I directed Ed to say “not guilty” the Judge, the Crown Attorney, the stenographer and the court clerk all perked up. There was a general awakening in the courtroom. The Judge looked a little suspect and the Crown Attorney and the building inspector grinned.
The Judge asked the Crown to proceed. He called the Building Inspector to the stand and after being sworn in, he was asked to provide the results of his investigation. He reviewed his notes, which were glanced at by the writer prior to the giving of evidence. Based upon the testimony of the building inspector there was no question that the basement apartment of Ed’s house was being rented and occupied.
It was my time to cross-examine the Building Inspector. I asked him how tall he was. The crown jumped up and the Judge asked me what I was doing. I asked for an indulgence indicating that I had only a few questions after which everything would become patently clear. He advised me to go ahead with some caution.
The inspector answered, to my best recollection, 6 feet or so. I then asked him what he weighed. The crown began to rise, the Judge gave me a glare and I indicated that there were just a few more questions. The inspector, again to my best recollection, indicated about 180 lbs.
I asked him if he was in good health. The glares again came from the Judge, but before any objection, the inspector said “good”.
My response was, “you would have to be in good condition” to carry around your typewriter when you do your inspections. The inspector was confused. The Judge sat up straight and the Crown looked uncomfortable.
The inspector said that he doesn’t carry his typewriter to the residences. I responded that he must since his notes were typewritten. The Judge was now glaring and the crown had his head in his hands.
I then indicated that if what he was producing were not his notes taken at the time of inspection where were they. He indicated that he did not have them. Only the typewritten notes.
The Judge stared at the Crown who jumped to his feet and indicated that the Crown was withdrawing the charges. We attempted to hold back our grins, but without much success.
As I left the courtroom, the remaining women asked quietly what had happened. In more than a whisper, I said “plead not guilty”.
Ed was a happy camper and a couple of years later, the Ontario Government changed the rules so that basement apartments became, subject to meeting building standards, legal.
The moral of the story is that even though lawyers have the courtesy of the court to proceed at the top of a trial list in court, never go first. Watch and observe what is happening. You never know what the first two or three cases will reveal.
a true courtroom story
And for your reading pleasure:
Back in about 1981 or so when the dollar limits of Small Claims Court were $600.00 I was living at the northwest corner of Don Mills and Steeles Avenue in Markham, Ontario, being a simple a walk across the street into Toronto. My office was at 2 Sheppard Avenue East in North York (Toronto), Ontario.
I was asked by an older (50’s or 60’s) individual to defend him in a Small Claims Court Case involving about $500.00. His company had leased a car from a dealership in Dunnville Ontario, a small town south of Hamilton. He had missed a payment or so, and the dealership issued a claim against him personally and not his company. Based upon what I knew about Mercantile Law he had a slam dunk defence.
He really couldn’t afford the legal fees for me to travel to Dunnville, so we finally agreed (since the case was being heard in October) that my recompense would be a basket of apples.
We (Bill, and Helen) drove to Dunnville. The case was about 6 or so on the docket list. I listened while each lawyer introduced himself or herself to the Court. It became apparent that any lawyer from a town larger than a couple of thousand population was going to be in very big trouble. Lawyers from Hamilton, London, St. Catherines, Niagara Falls were being treated with less deference than their small town breatheren.
At the morning break, my client expressed his opinion that our attendance at trial was going to be a large waste of time. As soon as the plaintiff, from Dunnville, its lawyer, from Dunnville, and the Judge from Dunville got a whisper of me being from Metropolitan Toronto, we would be toast.
I advised my client to sit in the back of the courtroom when the case was called. I told him nothing more.
Our case was finally called. The plaintiff was given a nod by the Judge. The other lawyer was welcomed to the Court by the Judge. He then looked over his spectacles and asked who I was.
My response was simple. “Allan Freedman”, your Honour. “And where are you from Mr. Freedman”. “From Markham, Ontario, your Honour”. “And where is Markham, Ontario?”
I replied: “Sixty miles south east of Barrie, your Honour”.
My client started coughing. I heard a lot of snickering in the courtroom.
I won the case.
Back in about 1981 or so when the dollar limits of Small Claims Court were $600.00 I was living at the northwest corner of Don Mills and Steeles Avenue in Markham, Ontario, being a simple a walk across the street into Toronto. My office was at 2 Sheppard Avenue East in North York (Toronto), Ontario.
I was asked by an older (50’s or 60’s) individual to defend him in a Small Claims Court Case involving about $500.00. His company had leased a car from a dealership in Dunnville Ontario, a small town south of Hamilton. He had missed a payment or so, and the dealership issued a claim against him personally and not his company. Based upon what I knew about Mercantile Law he had a slam dunk defence.
He really couldn’t afford the legal fees for me to travel to Dunnville, so we finally agreed (since the case was being heard in October) that my recompense would be a basket of apples.
We (Bill, and Helen) drove to Dunnville. The case was about 6 or so on the docket list. I listened while each lawyer introduced himself or herself to the Court. It became apparent that any lawyer from a town larger than a couple of thousand population was going to be in very big trouble. Lawyers from Hamilton, London, St. Catherines, Niagara Falls were being treated with less deference than their small town breatheren.
At the morning break, my client expressed his opinion that our attendance at trial was going to be a large waste of time. As soon as the plaintiff, from Dunnville, its lawyer, from Dunnville, and the Judge from Dunville got a whisper of me being from Metropolitan Toronto, we would be toast.
I advised my client to sit in the back of the courtroom when the case was called. I told him nothing more.
Our case was finally called. The plaintiff was given a nod by the Judge. The other lawyer was welcomed to the Court by the Judge. He then looked over his spectacles and asked who I was.
My response was simple. “Allan Freedman”, your Honour. “And where are you from Mr. Freedman”. “From Markham, Ontario, your Honour”. “And where is Markham, Ontario?”
I replied: “Sixty miles south east of Barrie, your Honour”.
My client started coughing. I heard a lot of snickering in the courtroom.
I won the case.
The end of another long weekend. The weather was great and I actually did everything in moderation.
Friday night, I was taken, kicking and screaming, dancing. My wife is great and like most things, I faked it. Not having put on the dancing shoes for a few months, it was like getting back on a bicycle -- the "body memory" comes back quickly. A great way to get exercise (if I wanted exercise.) But I need all the spousal points I can get.
Saturday, a little bit of work, a little bit of motorcycle riding and then a nice quiet night at home.
Sunday, a lot of riding -- to Brantford and back taking in all of the back roads. A literal pain in the neck by the time I got home.
Monday, a day back at the office, And now, smoking a cigar (my only vice) and getting ready to do some more work while watching playoff baseball.
The remainder of the week will be crazy, at best -- ending in a short trip to Sudbury to start a hearing before the Ontario Human Rights Tribunal.
I really, really have to get down to preparing for my monologue for the CCA convention. Time to come up with some new one-liners or an entire new audience. The new audience might be easier to come up with.
Anyway, too all, a very healthy, happy and peaceful Thanksgiving.
Friday night, I was taken, kicking and screaming, dancing. My wife is great and like most things, I faked it. Not having put on the dancing shoes for a few months, it was like getting back on a bicycle -- the "body memory" comes back quickly. A great way to get exercise (if I wanted exercise.) But I need all the spousal points I can get.
Saturday, a little bit of work, a little bit of motorcycle riding and then a nice quiet night at home.
Sunday, a lot of riding -- to Brantford and back taking in all of the back roads. A literal pain in the neck by the time I got home.
Monday, a day back at the office, And now, smoking a cigar (my only vice) and getting ready to do some more work while watching playoff baseball.
The remainder of the week will be crazy, at best -- ending in a short trip to Sudbury to start a hearing before the Ontario Human Rights Tribunal.
I really, really have to get down to preparing for my monologue for the CCA convention. Time to come up with some new one-liners or an entire new audience. The new audience might be easier to come up with.
Anyway, too all, a very healthy, happy and peaceful Thanksgiving.
October
Its the end of the first week of October and the days go by very, very rapidly.
I haven't put away the car or motorcycle like last year at the beginning of October. I am either more optimistic or desperate as to what little down time I may have. Merely put 3K on the bike. If I wondered where the time went it probably ended up in the client files, presentations, ad nauseum.
I actually received a complimentary copy of a text on Alternative Treatments in Cancer Therapy. I wrote the chapter on Legal Issues. I would like to say it was fun -- but I would be really, really lying.
Now I just have to get ready for a quick trip to Sudbury (for anything but fun) and then prepare my monologue for the CCA convention. Being funny and witty can really be difficult so I will likely merely be sarcastic.
I should probably be writing some more articles for DC Canada -- but they don't seem to be in need and I never do articles for advertising -- so I can just back off and if they need me they can find me. I am sure the time will be filled -- it is like putting your finger in a glass of water and then removing it -- the void always seems to get filled.
Most importantly, Dr. Herb Lee is turning 100 on November 5, 2010!! Now that is news worth reporting.
Be well and be good.
I haven't put away the car or motorcycle like last year at the beginning of October. I am either more optimistic or desperate as to what little down time I may have. Merely put 3K on the bike. If I wondered where the time went it probably ended up in the client files, presentations, ad nauseum.
I actually received a complimentary copy of a text on Alternative Treatments in Cancer Therapy. I wrote the chapter on Legal Issues. I would like to say it was fun -- but I would be really, really lying.
Now I just have to get ready for a quick trip to Sudbury (for anything but fun) and then prepare my monologue for the CCA convention. Being funny and witty can really be difficult so I will likely merely be sarcastic.
I should probably be writing some more articles for DC Canada -- but they don't seem to be in need and I never do articles for advertising -- so I can just back off and if they need me they can find me. I am sure the time will be filled -- it is like putting your finger in a glass of water and then removing it -- the void always seems to get filled.
Most importantly, Dr. Herb Lee is turning 100 on November 5, 2010!! Now that is news worth reporting.
Be well and be good.
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