With any luck these sleazy scumbags will have the opportunity to meet one of these drunk losers on a road one night and see the damage they're causing. Keep the cops in line, but this legal trickery is getting people killed.
By Jeff Balke
By Ben DuBose
By Ben DuBose
By Sean Pendergast
By Sean Pendergast
By Calvin TerBeek
By Jeff Balke
By Jeff Balke
Even in retirement, Ted liked to work. He had not had an idle day since flinging newspapers onto front lawns in middle school. His efforts eventually landed him in senior management at a Fortune 500 company. And after 40 years of marriage and sending four kids through college, he and his wife were set for life. But even at 66, he was restless. So he started a part-time consulting business, which kept him sharp and got him out of the house.
But it didn't keep him out of the Bubble.
And that's where he was on that Tuesday four years ago, the day when everything changed.
His wife had already left for the day when Ted woke up, leaned over and pulled out the pornography stash hidden in his nightstand. He always preferred prose over pictures -- it let him use his imagination. His fantasies were about women only, no kids.
The high kicked in and he grew hard. But he didn't masturbate. Instead, he went to the kitchen and fixed a sandwich.
He was now trapped in the Bubble. Sex addicts weren't kidding when they gave it that name. You can see the outside world, but you're not a part of it. You're on cruise control. Adrenaline gets you in, climax gets you out.
His heart beating faster, he drove to his favorite spot at Airline and I-45. He had cruised neighborhoods like this for decades, his eyes trained to find the rough-edged women who were good for a trick. Three or four times a month, often fueled by alcohol, he'd pick up a pro or a woman in a bar.
But after driving around for an hour, Ted had found only empty streets. He pointed the car home, where he methodically made another sandwich.
Ted was a leader, gregarious, the kind of guy who threw himself into whatever he did. He drank hard, but he worked harder, so this urge was never a problem -- or at least no one thought it was.
In reality, he was now powerless. The Bubble's a bitch. It makes you feel safe even while it traps you. He couldn't just masturbate now. He needed the payoff of a cruise -- and a quick one.
Soon he was back, turning off Airline onto a side street, spotting her and figuring almost immediately that she had to be a cop. Late twenties, black, with dyed blond hair, she looked too clean -- not like the typical hollow-eyed zombies. Her clothes fit, her shoes weren't scuffed, she had some bulk to her.
He stopped beside her.
"Are you going to arrest me?" he asked.
Her voice, loud and distinct: "Oh, no --you're going to arrest me."
There are cops in the neighborhood, she said, advising Ted to meet her around the corner where it was safer.
Now he knew she was a cop -- the shined shoes, the clear voice, the meeting place. He could turn right and head to her, or swing left and get the hell home. Maybe his wife would be back. Maybe they could go for a walk.
Ted turned right.
The undercover cop spoke into her hidden mike; the cops in the camera car met Ted. He was busted. He'd have to call his wife to bail him out, and this poor woman would learn the truth.
His life as he knew it was over. And his recovery was just beginning.
The redheaded stepchild of obsessions, sex addiction is silent torture for its victims and a punch line for the public. Disregarded by the American Psychiatric Association, ignored or exploited by the media, often misunderstood by even those who suffer from it, sex addiction hasn't achieved the tolerance and sympathy afforded its big brothers, alcoholism and gambling addiction.
The myths are myriad, and even the name is misleading.
"Sex addiction is not about sex," says Houston sex therapist Barbara Levinson, who has treated Ted and many other addicts. (The recovering addicts consented to be interviewed only if the Pressdid not use their real names or give personal information that would identify them.)
For many, the term might conjure an image of a swaggering lothario bedding every woman he sees. But Levinson and other experts say sex addicts don't necessarily have more sex than the average person. Some aren't even into actual intercourse; not one of them feels good about their sexual behavior. Their core belief is that they are unworthy human beings; the preoccupation with sex is a coping mechanism that, like drugs, pays off with one hell of a high followed by a lonely, pathetic crash.
The affliction affects from 3 to 6 percent of American adults, according to Patrick Carnes, informally known as the father of the study of sexual addiction. Carnes, the Arizona-based author of Out of the Shadows, the sex addict's bible, defines the addiction as "any sexually related compulsive behavior that interferes with normal living and causes severe stress on family, friends, loved ones and one's work environment."
Addicts have many poisons to choose from: voyeurism, Internet pornography, solicitation, phone sex, masturbation, anonymous sex, molestation, rape. Sexual addiction isn't characterized by the act itself but by the hallmark of all addictions: the need to escalate the behavior and repeat it despite negative consequences and past efforts to quit. Addicts want -- and try -- to stop, but they simply can't. That is the fundamental difference between the addict and someone who just wants to get off.
Eventually, they have to up their dosage. Male addicts who insist they're heterosexual find themselves picking up transvestite hookers or getting serviced by other men in the back of adult bookstores. It doesn't matter -- once they're in the Bubble, they feel the rush, and that's all that counts.
In a study of more than 1,000 recovering sex addicts and their partners, Carnes found that addicts often come from families plagued by substance abuse, pathological gambling, eating disorders or sexual compulsion.
About 80 percent of the addicts' families were rigid and detached. The majority claimed they experienced physical, sexual or emotional abuse in childhood.
"In part, their sex addiction stemmed from a search for nurturing without the risk of intimacy or trust," according to Carnes. "The challenge in assessment, then, is the high probability that sex addicts will not want to be accountable, nor will they trust easily. In fact, a double life for many will seem normal."
They become world-class liars, conjuring excuses for lost time, missed meetings, vanished money. More often than not, they're addicted to drugs or alcohol. Eventually, their addiction(s) can cost them their families, their jobs, their savings.
In 1977, several Minneapolis men who suffered from this yet-unnamed condition began meeting. Soon, they tailored the famed 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous to their own problem and called themselves Sex Addicts Anonymous. Chapters formed throughout the country and inspired other groups such as Sexaholics Anonymous and Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous.
When SAA's office manager resigned in 1993, the group conducted a nationwide search for a replacement, offering to relocate the headquarters of what had grown into an international nonprofit organization.
Enter Frank, who at that time had 18 months of sobriety with the Houston chapter. He said his modus operandi, what addicts call "acting out," included infidelity, masturbation and "illegal behavior."
Then 52, Frank had worked with nonprofits and figured he was the man for the manager's job. He was hired.
A Minneapolis member loaded the office contents into a U-Haul and moved them to an unassuming building in the Houston Heights. This office, now the international headquarters for the SAA, oversees about 600 groups in the United States and in six foreign countries. While there was once a women's group, SAA members say there are currently not enough female members to hold regular meetings of their own. So they have some "mixed" sessions with the males.
With about 200 to 300 active members holding 21 weekly meetings in churches, hospitals and community centers, Houston is one of the most active cities, Frank says. The Bayou City also hosted last year's convention, which drew more than 400 members to a Galleria-area hotel. Frank estimates worldwide membership at about 4,000, although member anonymity prevents SAA from keeping detailed records.
Of the membership, about 85 percent are male and about 10 percent are sex offenders under court-ordered treatment.
When Frank first started answering office phones, it was rare for him to hear from people in their early twenties. Now, with the Internet, SAA is seeing a lot more college-age addicts. He says the Internet not only hooks people at a younger age but also makes it easier for them to get busted. They get caught downloading porn at work, or spouses catch on after so many sleepless nights spent in computer rooms. Partners may notice funds being funneled to www.dirtyteens.com.
Recovering addicts don't achieve sobriety through abstaining from all sexual behavior. Their recovery is custom-fitted, with each addict creating what is called the Three Circles. The outer circle contains healthy behavior: monogamy, dating, making friends, taking up a new hobby. "Boundary behaviors" -- the last steps before acting out -- are relegated to the middle circle. These can include visiting neighborhoods where they had solicited prostitutes or contacting an old acting-out partner. The inner circle includes their most self-destructive, "acting out" behaviors, the ones that the addict must avoid.
Frank is one of three full-time employees, paid through member donations and sale of literature from SAA's Web site (the meetings are free). While his title as director of fellowship services may be of some distinction, everything changes when he attends a session. There, everyone gets the same treatment.
"I'm just another sex addict at the meeting," Frank says.
Barbara Levinson, a licensed sex therapist, was the one to first tell Ted he was probably an addict.
After his wife bailed Ted out and realized she was married to a liar, Ted looked at his attorney and asked, "Why the hell would I do things I didn't want to do?"
Sitting in her giant leather chair beneath a dreamcatcher and paintings of Native Americans, Levinson listened to Ted's story, one she'd heard countless times since entering the field in 1984. She told Ted that he most likely had two addictions: alcohol and sex.
Following her advice, he went to an SAA meeting. There he was, a retired big shot, a well-educated guy who had managed fortunes. His associates had looked up to him, which made his addiction so much easier to hide. If Ted came in late to work one morning and said there was a traffic jam, then there was a traffic jam. No reason to think he was out cruising Airline.
Now he was just another schlub working on two types of sobriety chips: one for kicking alcohol and one for kicking whores.
But when he actually looked around, Ted was surprised by what he considered mostly smart and creative people. They had accomplished a lot professionally, or couldaccomplish a lot if they didn't channel all their energy into writing their own pornographic novels. He says he found himself fitting in, relieved to talk about his shame in front of people who knew exactly what he was going through.
He told them about his dad splitting when he was ten, how he took that to mean he was going to have to grow up quickly and take care of himself. Sure, he had a caring mother, but he still felt alone.
He started work at 11 -- a paper route before school, a grocery store after. Around that time, he began his sexual fantasies. He spied on the neighborhood floozy and developed a taste for pornographic prose. Women were nothing more than body parts -- except for his wife. He got married around 25 and had a normal sexual relationship with his wife, but it didn't satisfy this obsession he'd carried for years.
He'd drive out of his way to look at a woman on the street or in an adjacent car. He'd slither through supermarkets, following women, forgetting what he went to the store for in the first place. He'd see an attractive woman in a crowd and obsess over her for days.
As his work responsibilities advanced, so did his stress. Respect from others wasn't enough. Inside, he felt like a failure.
"I always worried about being fired," Ted says now. "Hell, I would worry about being fired on the day they gave me a bonus."
He had a medicine cabinet full of stress relievers: They included alcohol, compulsive eating, compulsive work and ultimately sex. After a while, pornography wouldn't cut it. He had to up the ante and live out his fantasy; he had to solicit sex. After that, nothing else would do.
At night, he'd pick up streetwalkers. Soon he found himself leaving work to feed his addiction. It didn't matter when the feeling hit -- he once left a family barbecue to pick up a prostitute.
Ted had affairs with women he'd call from home. He made out with a family caretaker while his wife was in the other room. He was in it for the rush, not the sex. Sometimes he had to force himself to be aroused, just to get the payoff.
Telling his fellow members all that was easy; confronting his wife was the hardest.
After a few months of SAA and therapy, Levinson wanted Ted to reveal everything to his wife. Following his arrest, Ted had lied to her, telling her he had only started picking up prostitutes following his retirement six years earlier.
This meant that Ted had to recall more than 40 years of deception, starting shortly after he got married. He had to tally his local liaisons and the cruising on business trips. And even all the times he just acted out by following hookers into dingy hotel rooms, only to turn around and walk away. He was in the Bubble each and every time, shielded from thoughts of his wife and children, temporarily immune to any guilt, shame or fear.
As Ted says, "This second life, there's only one person in it: yourself There may be another human being participating in it, but you do it by yourself."
So he sat there in the Center for Healthy Sexuality and recounted it all. After four decades of marriage, Ted's wife was finally meeting her real husband.
"I took my covenants that I made in my marriage, pissed all over them, jumped on top of them, kicked them," he says, spitting out the words like rotten food. "My wife, she would have never thought of breaking those covenants."
He says that moment was excruciating for his wife, who four years later is still recovering. They agreed to not tell their kids, so instead she confides in the members of Codependents of Sex Addicts Anonymous. The addict may feel isolated, but the spouse can feel even more alone. How can Ted's wife ever know where he's really going when he leaves the house?
For that reason, he doesn't so much as go to the grocery store without first calling her on his cell. He has a long way to go to regain her trust.
An affliction hasn't truly arrived until it makes it into the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the reference book that medical experts and insurance companies use to define illnesses and their accepted treatment.
Alcoholism appeared in the DSM's 1952 inaugural edition. Pathological gambling showed up in 1980. Sex addiction wasn't given its own listing, but instead was watered down into various "paraphalias": fetishism, masochism, pedophilia, exhibitionism, voyeurism.
"In some ways, it's sort of the keys to the kingdom," Carnes says of getting in the DSM. Fortunately, he says, there are many therapists who are trained to identify sex addiction, but there is no consensus in the medical community.
Carnes, a certified addiction specialist, is credited with creating the nation's first inpatient facility for sex addicts, in Minneapolis in the late 1970s. He is now the clinical director for sexual disorders at The Meadows, a clinic outside Phoenix.
In 1983, he published Out of the Shadows, which anyone in SAA can quote verbatim. He pioneered the study, and now he's at the forefront of the movement to get his area of expertise in the DSM.
Last October, scientists and therapists swarmed to Vanderbilt University in Nashville for the annual conference of the National Council on Sexual Addiction and Compulsivity. Vanderbilt is ground zero for research into how sexual behavior affects the brain's pleasure center. A team of psychiatrists there is loading male test subjects into MRIs. When the doctors show the men a picture of naked women, Carnes says, their frontal lobes illuminate. Show them a picture of actual intercourse, and the whole brain glows.
The research is an important part of building a case to bring to the American Psychiatric Association, which is working on the 2008 edition of the DSM. First, the experts have to agree on a diagnostic and interviewing protocol for their studies. Then they test the hell out of them.
Right now, little is known about which pathways are involved in sexual arousal, says Reid Finlayson, a psychiatrist on the Vanderbilt team. Until there's a clear answer, there will be critics.
"Everybody can think of addiction with a chemical but it's pretty hard to think of a behavior that we've all been associated with having the same kind of power," he says.
Tom Wise, a physician at Johns Hopkins' Sexual Behavioral Consultation Unit, describes the disorder as sexual compulsion, not addiction, which he says is associated with tolerance and dependence. In this extreme sexual behavior, there is nothing like alcoholism's delirium tremens, the DTs.
"There are a lot of so-called experts that are rushing to judgment and closing the need to study this better," Wise says.
Many experts lump disparate compulsions together as the same addiction, resulting in mistreatment, he says. The guy obsessed with amputee porn may not have the same problem as the woman who spends all night in Internet chat rooms. Different compulsions have to be treated differently.
With an alcoholic, Wise says, "We really don't have to worry whether they're drinking 15-year-old brandy or drinking aftershave lotion."
But for Carnes, there is no doubt.
"It's the last area that's to be researched, that's to be sure," he says. "I think it's because of our shame around sex, our discomfort in talking about it. Physicians aren't even trained much in human sexuality, so they avoid the topics. They feel intrusive. And yet the reality is that for the people that are in SAA, they'll tell you what a brain issue it is because it almost ruined their lives. In many cases, it did."
Andy had the vodka and the garbage bag; now he just needed the pills.
He didn't want to deviate from the recipe he found in the Hemlock Society's Final Exit, courtesy of the Houston Public Library:
1) Crush phenobarbital
2) Mix with vodka
3) Drink solution
4) Put your head in the bag
The 43-year-old professional designer had already revised his will, but he was having trouble getting the barbiturates from his many dealers. Ordinarily they weren't hard to find -- they're sold over the counter in Mexico. Andy didn't tell the dealers what he wanted them for, and he didn't tell his family and friends he was ready to go.
"I'm not a cry-for-help kind of guy," he says, recalling the time he was ready to die.
He was turning into the kind of person he didn't want to be. He was thinking about rape.
After 30 years of indiscriminate sex with men, which culminated in sadomasochistic adult bookstore orgies, Andy was wanting more. He had always wanted the torture aimed his way, but lately he'd been thinking about unleashing it on someone else.
Years before, he had seen Carnes on TV, talking about the ravages of sex addiction. Yeah, he figured, that's me.
But he didn't do anything about it. At that point, he had mastered his second life. He even had a job where he could disappear during the day. Just as he had a recipe for suicide, he had a recipe for relieving stress.
When things became too much at work, or when he was angry, Andy hit the adult bookstores. There were three clusters -- two on I-45 south, just outside the Loop, and one on Telephone Road. He knew the seediest stores in each cluster, the ones where he could find the "bookstore whores." He knew the clerks, the layouts.
He had a protocol before acting out: Everyone had to be identified. He'd have to check the movie booth peepholes for undercover cops, who were the ones sitting in the porno booth and notmasturbating. Sometimes the idiots had their arms folded. If there were cops, he'd either move on or wait until they'd cleared.
The bookstore whores didn't lock their doors. Come one, come all. Andy would walk right in and get busy. Blow jobs, mostly, to start with. But it grew from there.
The bookstores without booths were better. He especially liked the ones with big dark back rooms with one TV for everyone. Back there, you could get anything: oral, anal, group action. He once saw five guys tag-team a female pro. There was the transvestite who'd show up with his menagerie of dildos. Guys walking around naked, like in a health club locker room.
Sex with one person in a booth was good. Sex with one person in that back room, with others watching, was better, Andy recalls. But soon, that wasn't enough. He'd have to have sex with multiple partners, simultaneously. Then it was rough sex. Each time, Andy would have to increase the dose.
Andy says addicts don't even have to be that great at hiding their second life anymore. The more pornography infiltrates the mainstream, the easier it is to hide. Strip clubs, cybersex, massage parlors -- they're everywhere, for everyone to use, addict and average alike.
"Straight guys go, 'Isn't that just being a guy?' Gay guys go, 'Isn't that just being gay?' " Andy says. "You can have it and be supported and be invisible -- unless you really start fucking up."
Andy never did that -- he just became a rapist in his mind. That scared him enough to want to check out. He just couldn't get all the ingredients for his lethal recipe.
"I was trying and failing to kill myself," he says, "so I went to a meeting."
First he smoked pot, his 5 p.m. ritual for 25 years. Then he circled the building a few times in his car. He was afraid the meeting of sex addicts would be frivolous -- a bunch of oversexed Bubbas laughing and slapping each other on the back. But when he finally pushed through the meeting room door, he saw otherwise. SAA allowed no BS.
Andy says it was enough to make a cynic like him soon give up marijuana. He wanted to be sober for these things. He got a sponsor within days and wound up going to 11 meetings a week. Even though he's toned it down to three or four a week, he still lauds the group. It helped him get over the rape obsession -- and kill the idea of killing himself.
"I may have turned into a Moonie," he laughs, "but I'm much happier now."
It's ten-thirty at night, and Ted is driving home from an AA meeting. The radio's off. When he's in the car, Ted prefers to think about God and fighting his addiction. Some recovering addicts like Christian tapes; Ted likes it quiet.
It's a sign of his recovery that he can remember his temptations so clearly, like that night two months ago.
He was on Memorial, approaching Beltway 8, when he noticed her: walking in the opposite direction, no purse, clearly not out for an evening jog.
The road was open. He thought about swinging a U-turn, pulling up beside her and ordering the usual.
Suddenly, he recalled hearing his own voice penetrating the silence: "I don't do this anymore."
A split second later, there was that archived footage playing in his memory: the promise he made to his wife about telling her if he slipped. What would that do to her?
But Ted's no longer trapped in the Bubble.
The desire passed, faster than the woman in his rearview mirror.
With any luck these sleazy scumbags will have the opportunity to meet one of these drunk losers on a road one night and see the damage they're causing. Keep the cops in line, but this legal trickery is getting people killed.
I was not drunk and Flood did not help at all he took my money said we had this then had me plead out
It's a fact, you can't always trust the cops. Google 'Kasi Beutel' from Santa Barbara, CA. She was a shining star on the DUI team until she arrested an investigative reporter. Mr. Flood may not be popular, but he's helping train cops to play by the book. And that really is good for us all.
Disgusting. I hope Flood is killed by a drunk driver who gets out of his car and pukes into his bloodied and mangled remains as Flood looses contiousness and dies.
Fuckin' fab. Drunk drivers go free to cause more potential fatalities of innocents. America's justice system at its finest...
It makes me happy to know that there are guys like Flood out there that are willing to stand up for our liberties in a court, albeit for a fee. The government's just itching for us to let down our guard and accept these draconian laws so they can take more of our freedoms and rule us like they did in the USSR. The way these laws are written and enforced is insane, and they show that our lawmakers, who swear to uphold the Constitution, apparently don't have to even read the thing over before they take office.
Go Flood, and let's get some rational laws on the books instead of allowing a police state!
In the article, it states that Mr. Flood hasn't defended any cases which resulted in major injury or death. I'm not saying it's every okay to drink and drive, and I certainly NEVER drink and drive, but I do have friends who may have 1 or 2 drinks and are certainly not drunk, that could probably be charged with a DUI if pulled over. I don't see a problem with defending those types of cases.
Easy solution: Video the lack of coordination.
But what about property damage? I doubt the jury would find it credible that the cop intended to get hit and be hospitalized. The "drunk" is a proven danger on the road and should at least pay for damages and have his license revoked.
Lets see how much all the money anf fame means to him, when it is his child or family member he has to bury.
When you have a family member killed by an idiot who didn't have the brains or self control not to drive after drinking, then you can tell me that driving under the influence isn't a big deal. I hope these people get hit by one of their clients. I really do. Where I live, we have the harshest DUI laws in the nation. It makes my blood boil to hear people complaining that they got busted for drinking and driving when they should have been responsible enough not to. It's not anyone's fault but your own that you get arrested. I don't care how many drinks you've had, or how less likely you are to be the one causing fatal accidents. That kind of thinking is ignorant,and doesn't make it okay.
Where was this guy when I got my dui?!?!? I lawyered up but with the wrong one. He was buddy buddy with the DA and was not really concerned about fighting my charge. You live what you learn. That is why I don't drink and drive anymore, it was an expensive lesson!
Lord PLEASE forgive me for thinking this, but i can't wait until someone has an opprotunity to sue this attorney for allowing a drunk driver to remain on the streets and kill someone. It would be even better if a drunk driver would hit her, kill someone in her family or someone in the firm! That will be the actual Judgement Day!
Seems like it would be much better use of their time to educate officers the pitfalls they see so that NO ONE gets off and we can stop the madness.
P.S. Check this article from last year and be sure to read #3. I know, some of you will say that was way back then, but still... http://blogs.houstonpress.com/...
Come on people, this is just an article - freedom of speech, and an interesting one at that. I myself find it informative unlike some of you self-righteous and close minded people. Some of you fail to understand that this could happen to almost anybody. How many of you use cellphones while driving, I see many people driving reckless while they carry a conversation on one. Do you people really believe that some of these officers are always truthful, and that maybe they are not driven by any other motives. I am not condoning the actions of the drivers but I'm glad there is someone keeping the law in check, that's not often the case.
And during Closing Arguments the Judge will usually instruct the Jury that whatever the attorneys SAY is not evidence. That they are to limit their deliberations to the evidence presented and the testimony taken.
Interesting that commentator Mike thinks that the Assistant District Attorneys are "dumb enough to believe them." Obviously he has never dealt with the Harris County District Attorney's Office. They are some of the most highly skilled, well trained trial lawyers in one of the most, if not the most, aggressive DA's Office in the country. They are a lot of things, but "dumb" is not one of them.
More importantly, one of the most valuable things one has as an attorney is his reputation. He has a certain amount of professional equity with each court and each prosecutor that he deals with. If an assistant district attorney catches him in a lie, intentional or because his client was lying to him, she will not believe another word that comes out of his mouth. That is detrimental to both the attorney AND the defendant...and both professionally and from a business stand point, the last thing in the world you want as a lawyer is to be viewed as something less than a straight shooter.
Mike goes on to say that a "witness on this case lied..." How he can be so certain of this not knowing all the facts or testing the veracity of the witness on the day of trial in front of a jury, I'll never know. Apparently he knows better than the six people who were sitting in judgment. But my question is this: how does he know it wasn't the cop that was less than truthful? Does Mike have a predisposition to believe the testimony of police officers rather than average citizens? Does he think they are more truthful than the average Joe Blow just because they have a badge and a gun? One thing I know for sure, Mr. Flood did not "tell" her what to say. We can't. As Officers of the Court we are ethically prohibited from telling a witness what to say...and there are sanctions for such behavior.
Again, easy to pick on but difficult to substantiate once you look at all the facts......
The attorneys do not testify directly, but when they make closing statements, they can make up whatever they want... They will lie to prosecuting attorneys who are dumb enough to believe them.So much for an oath.. A witness on this case lied. Does anyone really think that Flood would have put her on the stand without coaching what to tell her?????
I am truly glad to see drunk drivers get the representation the constitution offers. I hope Tyler defends the drunk who runs over his wife and kids with the same zeal he has offed his other clients.
What these negative commentators seem to forget is that drinking and driving IS NOT ILLEGAL! You can still have a glass of wine with dinner in this country and drive yourself home. You can have a glass of champagne at your daughter's wedding reception and not have to call a cab. You can have a beer at your friend's BBQ and not have to have someone pick you up. That is not, and should not be against the law. And if you want to make that illegal, then what you're really asking for is Prohibition...and we all know how well that worked out.
What most people don't understand is that this statute is written so BROADLY, that you could take two benadryl for your allergies and be arrested for DUI if you get behind the wheel. It is a HUGE net that is being cast and it is taking with it a large number of innocent people. People that deserve to be defended by the likes of Tyler Flood.
Remember people, attorneys are not magicians. In nearly all of these cases Mr. Flood was able to convince a jury of 6 reasonable, objective, 3rd party observers that had no vested interest in the case that there was another, reasonable explanation for his client's behavior. You want to get rid of the Jury System? You want to replace with these zealots who have lost loved ones in tragic accidents? Go ahead. But don't call it Justice.
Officer Egdorf, admittedly biased when enforcing DWI laws, stated, "Defense attorneys lie. They lie their asses off. He's the only person in there that's not sworn to tell the truth."
I would like to remind Officer Egdorf and others that attorneys DO NOT TESTIFY; therefore they cannot "tell" the jury anything. They are there to cross-examine and interrogate. They are there to ASK questions, not make statements.
Furthermore, he is mistaken when he says that attorneys are the only ones not sworn to tell the truth in the courtroom. In order to be licensed we must take an oath: an oath that includes being candid with the tribunal (court). In fact, we are the ONLY profession that provides sanctions for not being truthful. We cannot even put on a witness if we know they are going to give false testimony.
I could cite case after case where officers perjured themselves on the stand or obfuscated the truth. But I will not do so. I will simply say this, it is easy to bad mouth lawyers, but I guarantee you if YOU or one of YOUR loved ones was in trouble you'd want someone who would do battle for you and as Mr. Silverman put it, "Tries cases."
I hope, and I say it with all sincerity, that one of your loved ones is hit and maimed by one of your defendants. You are getting repeat offenders off on theatrical talent alone. And I wish the same on all of your fellow DWI lawyers.There is no such things as a first offender DWI. Just a first time CAUGHT DWI.
What a racket DWI is. I am tickled at how much Trichter emphasizes in his ads that he is looking for all the drivers who have been INCORRECTLY arrested for DWI.
I am sure Flood has his share of clients that he hopes never occupy the same road as him. He'll have to live with the deaths of innocent drivers when one of his clients kills somebody.
That said, the roadside gymnastics are garbage. I couldn't do those sober due to a problem with my ankle. DONT BLOW!
So Tukanov and Lena each had a "couple of glasses" and then Lena swore Tukanov had no more than "1/2 glasses." Sort of seems like perjury to me.
Why on earth would a competent attorney violate attorney / client privilege, assuming client waived, and expose the witness to perjury investigation?
Was this the biggest portrayal of I�m a douche bag attorney who needs to boost about my wardrobe, and trophy wife because he�s a real small fish in a big pond of legitimate criminal defense attorneys? The article shouldn�t have been headed, �Getting Off� it should have been called �Jerk Off�
Releasing this ridiculous farce of propaganda is irresponsible journalism� and who the hell buys their hair products at CVS?
Though Flood seems obnoxious & conceded throughout this article he is most certainly an essential part of our legal system & probably not a bad representation of it overall. I have dealt with overzealous cops who wanted to arrest me for having one beer, I was lucky I know many others who were not so. I am all for arresting drunk drivers, but I�m also glad theirs people out there defending them.
What entrepreneur isn't a "self-promoter"? Isn't that how you succeed in business? As far as "helping others" - all that business would suggest he's doing something right.
This guy is a shameless self promoter. My guess is the two positive comments were written by himself. I know lawyers, some of them criminal lawyers, who take their jobs very seriously and help a lot of people in the process. This guy is more interested in representing himself.
And prosecuting attorneys aren't interested in themselves? Cops aren't interested in how they look when an accused walks free?
Attorneys are loaded with ego, but don't think that only applies to defense attorneys. In an adversarial legal system, there is no one trying to prove you innocent except your attorney and your private or attorney's investigator.
I'm happy see you know some criminal lawyers. I think so too.
JH GordonJoe Detectivehttps://www.smashwords.com/boo...
These lawyers, and Tyler, defend your constitutional rights. You could get a DWI after one beer, you could get accused of a murder you didn't do. Just because you get accused does not mean your guilty people.
Don't be mad at Tyler Flood, people. Do you really think the people driving after a beer or two are the ones involved fatal car wrecks? But those are the people often getting arrested, charged, and convicted where they're represented by attorneys other than Tyler Flood. It could be you in jail for no reason. And as for the few cases where the driver was "drunk as a skunk," well, if there's no evidence that he was "drunk as a skunk," it's a criminal lawyer's job to argue just that - there's no evidence. That's what defending constitutional liberties and rights is all about. They're your rights too, you know. Respect yourself.
There's another dynamic the article fails to mention. Me. I spent lots of time as an attorney's investigator honing my craft. I can think of no case where an arresting officer didn't do at least something wrong. And that's not just on DUI cases either.
I'll tell you a secret; cops lie. They don't want to lose a case and face their superiors or a pissed off DA. There's a pit-bull mentality that forces justice into a corner all for the sake of a conviction. True, there are drunks on the road. But cops frequently take advantage by confusing people who have only taken a beer or a glass of wine at lunch. I don't like drunk drivers much either. But there has to be something and someone who prevents everyone being ground under the wheels of so-called justice. Here's an other secret, there is no justice.
Laws, all laws, are enforced selectively. That's another place a cop and a prosecutor can run afoul of a jury. It's not hard to show their win record supersedes their wish to see justice done. After the first year, my attorney clients never lost a case either.
JH GordonJoe Detectivehttps://www.smashwords.com/boo...
This is the dumbest thing I have ever read, and whoever published this article should be slapped. Try promoting NOT DRINKING AND DRIVING vs. drink and drive and KILL SOMEONE then get out of it with Mr. Flood. What a sad world. Mr Flood- how would you feel if your family were the ones in the car that got plowed by a drunk driver. would you defend them???