Administrative Assistants' Day

            I am taking a break from examining ways to lose a custody case in order to discuss Administrative Assistants' Day, which is tomorrow, April 23, 2014. I recall this special day used to be called "Secretaries' Day," but that term has become enveloped in a certain political incorrectness for its failure to recognize the scope of the duties undertaken by those to be honored tomorrow.

            I really never have had a true "secretary" – primarily because I haven't needed the traditional services rendered by one so described. Even though I entered the practice long before computers, I was somewhat of an aberration as a lawyer. I never dictated anything; I did my own typing for the most part.

             I learned to type during the summer between my 9^th and 10^th grade years when my father insisted I take a summer school class entitled "Personal Typing for Boys."

            Along with all the papers I brought home at the end of the 1958-59 school year was a flyer about the typing class, which would be limited to boys and taught every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning at 9:00 for six weeks. Although I was far from enthusiastic about this "opportunity," I couldn't overcome my father's argument that there were three reasons I should take the course.

"First of all," he said, "you intend to go to college and your grades will be better if you type your papers. Second, if you go into a business or profession and your secretary (there's that word) is off, you may need to type your own work. But most important, if you ever get drafted and the army finds out you can type, you will be in an office far from any battles." Who could argue with that?

            I have had a number of true assistants in my work life. When I was Editor-in-Chief of the Ohio State Law Journal, I gained so much from the wonderful woman who served as the keeper of the collective memory of "how it was done." At Capital Law School, it was scheduling student appointments and setting up meetings that required help. At the Courthouse, Sarah and Harriet kept me on task and ran my courtroom. When I first returned to practice, my wife Donna (who is a Certified Legal Assistant) was instrumental in getting the practice up and running.

            But the best, ever, is our current legal assistant, Liz Wood. As we point out to her, she runs this place. If she ever leaves, my retirement will promptly follow. Liz is very smart. She anticipates what needs to be done and does it – flawlessly. She is the only paralegal in an office with three lawyers, and she is always one step ahead. She makes sure I know what tasks must be done and pesters me if I get behind. She is masterful in the way she deals with clients. Her sense of humor is amazing. And she can be just mean enough!

            So, Liz, happy Administrative Assistants' Day. We are sure glad to have you!

Ten Ways to Lose Your Custody Case – Part 2

            It never fails to amaze me when a litigant in a custody dispute clearly identifies all the significant players in the case, the people with the power to influence and make the decisions that will determine the outcome of the dispute, and then proceeds to alienate each and every one of those people.

            Here are two techniques that are employed, generally ending in disaster.

3.         Make an enemy of the Guardian ad Litem

            In most custody cases, the court will appoint a lawyer (or, sometimes, a social worker) to act as the Guardian ad Litem. The GAL's job is to represent the best interests of the children involved in the dispute. Meetings with the parents and the children, home visits, inquiring of persons who have relevant information (teachers, medical providers, counselors, etc.), and generally doing what is necessary to provide the relevant materials to the court, are tasks assigned to the GAL.

            Unfortunately, some litigants believe that the GAL in their case should become a cheerleader for that parent's position, or, at least, should clearly see the evil inherent in the other side. When that doesn't happen, when the GAL takes an appropriately neutral approach, the reaction of the parent can become destructive. Arguments and insults hurled at a GAL are not likely to favorably influence the opinion of this very significant person. Facebook posts about how incompetently the GAL is doing the job don't help much either.

            I once served as Guardian ad Litem in a bitterly contested custody case involving a prominent Columbus family. The mother of the three girls involved determined early on that I was not totally committed to seeing that her goals concerning the proper outcome were accomplished. She undertook a vicious campaign to demonstrate that I was prejudiced against her, that I did not care about her daughters, by sending letters to several people that knew me, as well as to every news outlet in the city. Not really the best strategy available to her.

            Fortunately, my opinion that she was not the proper parent to care for the children was bolstered by the psychologists involved in the case and by the overwhelming evidence of her erratic and vicious behavior.

4.         Defy court orders

            Although a Guardian ad Litem can be very influential in the outcome of a custody case, obviously the judge and magistrate assigned to the case are much more so. After all, the ultimate goal of any litigation is to convince the judge that your position is the one which should prevail. To put it bluntly, you want the judge on your side.

            It therefore never failed to amaze me when custody litigants openly and repeatedly defied my orders in their case. Some went so far as to state in open court that they were not going to do as I ordered, because, as one memorable father told me, "You don't have a f****** clue what you are doing!" Even if I didn't have a clue, he probably would have been better off to keep his opinion to himself. At least he wouldn't have spent three days in jail for direct contempt!

            On another occasion, a custodial dad who had repeatedly refused to permit their son's mother to have her ordered parenting time, appeared before me on a contempt charge. I told him that if his son did not get to spend the ordered time with his mother during the coming weekend, I would have to find the father in contempt and punish him. He said, "Go ahead and put me in jail. I don't care. You can't make me do anything." I accepted his invitation and sent him off to the custody of the county sheriff.

            A half hour later, his lawyer came to see me. He told me that his client was crying hysterically and desperately wanted out of jail. Mom got her visitation and, eventually, was awarded sole custody of the child.

Ten Ways to Lose Your Custody Case – Part 1

            If I have learned anything from almost 44 years  of involvement in divorce cases, it is that the choices divorcing people make and the actions they take during the process are far more determinative of outcome that any other factor. No matter whom they hire as a lawyer, no matter what lawyer represents their spouse, no matter what judge is assigned to their case, the parties themselves construct their case and influence the ultimate result.

            This is most starkly illustrated when custody of children is contested. The parties' lives come under scrutiny to a greater extent than in any other civil litigation. Unfortunately, parents fighting over their children often make terrible decisions that negatively impact their ability to show the court why they should be the primary custodian.

            I have identified ten common mistakes that custody litigants repeatedly make. Most make more than one; some make almost all.

            Of course, no one can guarantee that avoidance of these errors will result in winning a custody case. But, making them can certainly and dramatically lower the likelihood that the court will find that the child's best interests will be served by awarding custody to the erring parent.

            Here are the first two of these mistakes:

1.  Create drama and make a record of it – post it on social media

            In many custody cases, a lawyer might expect to spend a significant amount of time reviewing Facebook posts, text messages, emails, and other electronic platforms in the search for ammunition to use. In a recent case, our client forwarded us Facebook posts made by his former wife in the midst of a contest over custody. The posts were attacks on the legal system, her former spouse and his family, and the lawyers involved. Vivid descriptions of the supposed "bad" behavior of the other parent were graphically included. Since the teenage child who was the subject of the litigation was also a "friend" with the posting parent, the child got to review all the spleen and hatred being spewed on her parent's timeline. It is not difficult to see how the Facebook posts could be used as evidence that the posting parent did not have the best interest of the child at heart.

            I have advised clients to close their Facebook and similar accounts while a case is in process. However, some people are just too addicted to social media to step away. And it can hurt them.

2.  Involve your new significant other

            Last week I was in Court for our first appearance before a magistrate in a divorce case where custody of two young children is at issue. We were representing Dad. Mom came to court accompanied by her new boyfriend with whom she was now living, having left her husband. He spent the entire hearing glowering at me. The magistrate certainly noticed.

            We have seen many cases where the new significant-other gets involved directly in the dispute, going so far as to get into screaming, if not physical, encounters with the other parent. This certainly creates an atmosphere that is potentially harmful to the child involved. Moreover, bad acting on the part of the boyfriend, girlfriend, or new spouse certainly casts doubt on the judgment of the involved parent.

Getting Elected

            After my appointment to the Domestic Relations bench in May of 1987, we had to get organized to run for a full six-year term in November, 1988. Although I had run for judge before (and been roundly trounced by incumbents), this campaign would be different. I would be fighting to keep a job that I was really beginning to enjoy.

            I did take one precaution against disaster. When I left the Capital University Law School faculty, I arranged with then Dean Josiah Blackmore to take a sabbatical, rather than resigning. My tenure position would be held for me until the results of the election decided my future.

            By far the most unpleasant part of running for any office is the need to raise money. This is further complicated by the rules that prohibit judges and candidates for judicial office from directly soliciting funds from anyone. This means that a "committee" has to be formed to run the fundraising part of the campaign. Fortunately, I had great people helping me and we raised about $75,000.00, which was a substantial sum for a judicial campaign at that time.

            We produced a TV commercial; but, given that 1988 was a Presidential election year and that a senatorial election was being hotly contested in Ohio, we had a hard time buying time to run the commercial. We made a radio commercial that ran a lot, and we used a lot of targeted direct mail.

            The best part of the campaign for me was the opportunity to meet people in a number of different settings and talk to them about the Court, its mission, and the job I was doing and hoped to continue to do. There were candidate nights sponsored by various civic and political groups to which all the candidates were invited. Most candidate nights put judicial candidates at the end of the evening. Often, the crowd had thinned considerably before we got the opportunity to talk.

            I enjoyed the house parties the most, with the small gatherings of neighbors and friends who were really interested in judicial candidates. I remember one meeting of about 15 or 20 folks, held in a neighborhood leader's living room. We sat in a circle and the people were encouraged to ask questions of the candidates, who had been scheduled to appear individually at 20 minute intervals. When it was my turn, I was asked several salient questions. Then, one person asked, "Are you a Christian?" "No," I replied, "I am Jewish." She responded: "Well, I guess that's OK!"

            Election Day was November 8, 1988. We had a campaign volunteer stationed at the Board of Elections to call us at our Downtown hotel room and let us know how the count was progressing. My opponent was an experienced lawyer whose father had been a long-time judge and who had considerable resultant name recognition. The race was very tight, but we maintained a small lead throughout the evening.

            1988 was a presidential election year, pitting George H. W. Bush against Michael Dukakis. Bush won in a walk and we Democrats were, to put it bluntly, getting our butts handed to us. I was a nervous wreck.

            Finally, about 11 PM, we got the call: All the precincts had been counted and we had 50.75% of the votes. Hardly a landslide, but we won. Felt pretty damn good!!

Advising Ann Landers

            I have always enjoyed the various advice columns that appear in newspapers and magazines. Ann Landers (Ask Ann Landers) and Abigail Van Buren (Dear Abby), twin sisters, entertained and enlightened their readers long before there was an Internet to provide answers to life's problems.

            In January of 1991, I was in my office at the Courthouse when I received a phone call from a woman (I don't recall her name) who told me she worked for Ann Landers and that she had been referred to me by someone at the Ohio Supreme Court. She asked if I could help with the response to a letter that Ms. Landers had received. I said I would if I could.

            She read me that letter. It seems that a young lady had been dating a married man for several months while he was going through the process of obtaining a divorce somewhere in Ohio. He had reassured her that his intention was to marry her when he was free and able. As the date of his final hearing approached, she had asked him about the possibility of setting a date for their nuptials.

            He told her that he could not marry her as soon as his divorce was final, because he had been advised by his lawyer that Ohio had a year-long "waiting period" after a divorce, during which the newly-divorced parties were not permitted to obtain a marriage license.

            My caller asked, "Is that true?"

            "No," I told her. "In fact, I have knowledge of couples who proceeded immediately from my courtroom where one of them had just been divorced to Probate Court to obtain a license and get married as soon as they could." It sounded to me like a dodge on the part of the boyfriend to avoid his commitment to the letter writer.

            She thanked me for my time and told me to watch Ms. Lander's column for the letter and the response. On January 27, 1991, I read the opened the newspaper and there it was. Was there a waiting period in Ohio? Ann Landers wrote, "No. According to Judge Ron Solove of the Domestic Relations Court Franklin County after a divorce is final there is no waiting period before a person may remarry in Ohio." She went on to suggest that the letter writer consider the sincerity of her male friend.

            Somewhere in the archives of "Ask Ann Landers" rests my brush with advice-to-the-lovelorn fame.