Wednesday, August 24, 2016

RIP Jay Hogan and Bill Richey

I'm so sorry to report that two great men and great lawyers passed away yesterday. Please share your memories/stories in the comments and I will post them. Sad.



From Judge Bob Scola on Jay Hogan:


"One of the true legal legends passed away last night. I tried a seven month long trial with him in Tampa and he was the real deal. It was like participating in a legal seminar every day ( and morning since we met at 5:30 am each day to get ready for that day's session). He invited me to share space with him after the trial and I was with him for 4 years until taking the bench. He was an invaluable resource and had the rare combination of exceptional talent coupled with an incredible work ethic. He was generous with his time, advice and in all other ways. He will definitely be missed."


From Judge Vance Salter on Bill Richey:

I saw your piece on Bill Richey and Jay Hogan this morning—tragic, shocking, I have to say. Bill was an associate at Steel Hector & Davis, following Janet Reno there from the State Attorney’s office (before Janet ran for the office herself). A trial lawyer’s trial lawyer, laser-guided but unfailingly polite and professional. Harlingen, Texas to HLS—big jump. He will be missed.


From Steve Bronis on Jay Hogan:

I was so saddened to learn of passing of Jay Hogan. Like Judge Bob Scola, I was honored to share office space with Jay for many years. He was a cherished mentor. He was a true gentleman and a masterful trial attorney. He had an uncanny ability to foster a great rapport with the jury. Jay was the most skillful cross-examiner I have ever known. I was privileged to be co-counsel with him on many cases including the famous Court Broom federal trial. Jay’s cross-examination of Ray Takiff in that case was absolutely stunning. It should be required reading for every trial attorney. He was one of a kind and will be greatly missed.


From Robert Kuntz on Jay Hogan:

I was a reporter then and covered Court Broom from voir dire to the verdict.

Jay Hogan was just amazing to me. Tall, long elegant hands, big-toothed smile -- and that unlit cigar that I don't think they'd let you walk around with in the courthouse these days. He was a consummate gentleman of the old school. He was totally at ease in the well of that imposing Central Courtroom and when he was up, every eye in the enormous place was on him. Judge Gonzalez didn't exactly defer to Hogan, but Hogan very certainly had the run of the place.

Ray Takiff, lead prosecution witness and literal bag man, had been all bombast and swagger (at least as much as he was capable of while claiming to be so debilitated with a heart condition that Judge Gonzalez reduced his testimony to half days). Hogan on cross was understated, leonine, and he stalked Takiff from the start. He built Takiff up, asking about some of his exploits. (Takiff told a story about walking through a police line of a surrounded house, saying he would speak with "his client," and get him to surrender. Takiff said he then got into the house, handed the barricaded STRANGER a business card and got the case on the spot. True? Who knew? But Takiff told it like it was.)

Then Hogan smoothly went in for the kill.

I won't recall verbatim after all these years, but there was a moment. Takiff had claimed that, if not for being barred from taking the case (since he was by then in the secret employ of the government), he'd have walked General Noriega, who had been tried in that same courtroom. Part of what Hogan asked went something like:

". . . and you'd have gotten him off?"
"Yes."
"You'd would have WON that trial?"
"Yes."
"There wasn't anyone better than you?"
"No one."
"You would have saved the guy?"
"I would have."
"It would have been the case of a lifetime, right?"
[Starting to break] "Yes."
"But instead, all you are now is a rat?"
[In tears] "Yes. I'm a rat."
"You're not a lawyer anymore, you're just a rat?"
[More tears] "Yes. Yes. I'm a rat"

Anyway, that's how I remember it more than 20 years later. But I'll bet, if you pull up the transcript, it was even better than that.

From Judge Jonathan Goodman on Bill Richey:

This is the first comment I have ever posted on a blog, legal or otherwise. But Bill Richey's passing is an extraordinary event.

Bill hired me out of the U.S. Attorney's Office in 1988. I became partners with him, Kirk Munroe and Alan Fine less than a year later.

Bill taught me many things. Some of those things concerned the practice of law and being a trial lawyer.

On the law side, Bill was a master of strategy, planning and investigation. That man knew how to take a deposition, let me tell you.

But other things Bill passed on to me were about being a good person, how to deal with people, how to be a mensch and other life lessons.

I hope some of those lessons stuck, even a little.

Bill played a huge role in my life, and I will miss him dearly.

From Judge Milton Hirsch on Jay Hogan

Jay had a defendant in the famous "Court Broom" trial. Ed Carhart also had a defendant, and although "Court Broom" was tried in federal court, the case against Ed's client turned in substantial part on a question of Florida criminal procedure. Ed hired me to testify on that question as an expert, thus affording me a free front-row seat to one of the signature trials in modern Miami history.

So I testified. The government crossed. And then for no particular reason -- I honestly think it was to relieve the tedium of the moment -- Jay Hogan announced that he had a few questions for this witness.

I can, to this very day, reproduce from memory almost the entirety of his cross of me. (No, I'm not going to, but I can.) Ask me to recount a couple of highlights from my largely highlight-free career as a lawyer and a judge; at the top of the list you'll find, "I was cross examined by Jay Hogan."

I couldn't pick up my own bar tab for weeks. Every criminal lawyer in town was happy to buy my drinks just to hear me tell what it was like to be crossed by Hogan.

5 comments:

Robert Kuntz said...

I was a reporter then and covered Court Broom from void dire to the verdict.

Jay Hogan was just amazing to me. Tall, long elegant hands, big-toothed smile -- and that unlit cigar that I don't think they'd let you walk around with in the courthouse these days. He was a consummate gentleman of the old school. He was totally at ease in the well of that imposing Central Courtroom and when he was up, every eye in the enormous place was on him. Judge Gonzalez didn't exactly defer to Hogan, but Hogan very certainly had the run of the place.

Ray Takiff, lead prosecution witness and literal bag man, had been all bombast and swagger (at least as much as he was capable of while claiming to be so debilitated with a heart condition that Judge Gonzalez reduced his testimony to half days). Hogan on cross was understated, leonine, and he stalked Takiff from the start. He built Takiff up, asking about some of his exploits. (Takiff told a story about walking through a police line of a surrounded house, saying he would speak with "his client," and get him to surrender. Takiff said he then got into the house, handed the barricaded STRANGER a business card and got the case on the spot. True? Who knew? But Takiff told it like it was.)

Then Hogan smoothly went in for the kill.

I won't recall verbatim after all these years, but there was a moment. Takiff had claimed that, if not for being barred from taking the case (since he was by then in the secret employ of the government), he'd have walked General Noriega, who had been tried in that same courtroom. Part of what Hogan asked went something like:

". . . and you'd have gotten him off?"
"Yes."
"You'd would have WON that trial?"
"Yes."
"There wasn't anyone better than you?"
"No one."
"You would have saved the guy?"
"I would have."
"It would have been the case of a lifetime, right?"
[Starting to break] "Yes."
"But instead, all you are now is a rat?"
[In tears] "Yes. I'm a rat."
"You're not a lawyer anymore, you're just a rat?"
[More tears] "Yes. Yes. I'm a rat"

Anyway, that's how I remember it more than 20 years later. But I'll bet, if you pull up the transcript, it was even better than that

Rumpole said...

For me, both these lawyers- along with Bronis, Scola, Hirsch, represented an era when criminal defense attorneys rode into town -okay this being Miami- they drove their BMWs to court- and TRIED their case. Pick six. Pick 12. lets go. And more often than not- even in the face of an adverse verdict, their client did well. The judge understood the defense, and the client KNEW they had a fighter for them.

The other thing you are reading- and this applies to Scola, Bronis and Milt- is that the opposition always called them unfailingly polite. A gentleman. Why? First- that is how they were trained in Janet Reno's office by men like Ed Carhart, etc. Second, it was the code of trial lawyers. You fought like hell in front of the jury, but your word and a handshake was all that was needed for an agreement. And third, they were the best, so next week, next month, next year they knew there would be another case, another trial and it was in their clients best interests that the judge and prosecutor knew their word wad their bond and that the trial would be tried on the facts.

Those parts of the practice are what are sorely missing today and I am at a loss on how we impart that to young lawyers who just don't seem to get it and aren't able to look beyond the current case.

Anonymous said...

I don't want to distract from the passing of these two great men and the loving tributes offered by the men who knew them, but Rumpole's comments require a response. Why in the course of praising Jay and Bill and the others he had to denigrate lawyers who are currently practicing, I don't know. The truth is that there are dozens of lawyers practicing today (including the owner of this blog) that are worthy successors to the tradition of which he writes. It is clear that Rumpole worked for Ms. Reno and of course he is partial to that generation. But he needs to get out more. The private bar and state and federal defenders are composed of many, many talented lawyers who actually try cases with grace and skill and are a credit to our profession. And, importantly, this group is much more diverse in terms of race and gender than the era that you fetishize.

Rumpole said...

I am actually referring to young prosecutors, many of whom are not honorable, they are taught to play games with discovery, you cannot make an agreement with them in the hallway and shake their hands and know they will abide by it-( a lot of times because they have no authority to make any agreements anyway) and they threaten you and your client before trial and then ask for as many years as possible. As Mr. Markus if his experience with the prosecutors in the case before Judge Gold representing a doctor in a pain clinic case where they re-indicted his client adding dozens of charges after David filed a motion to suppress and then sent an informant after him doesn't confirm my view of criminal law and trials. There is a systemic pressure to prevent people from going to trial and prosecutors and some judges go along with that by seeking a trial tax after a guilty verdict.
And as to our profession currently, I see too many lawyers who churn and burn and promise the world, get a fee and then plea and one of the reasons they plea is they don't have any experience in trying cases because they didn't intern in an office that promoted trials. The whole profession is going to hell in a handbag of pleas and dishonest deals.

Cynthia Hawkins said...

I am so sad to read of Jay Hogan's passing. I was an AUSA in Orlando when we met on a case in the early 90's. We had a few cases during that time, and he was such a joy to have on the other side. We resolved matters on a handshake. His word was golden. I grew to admire him personally, and counted him as a friend. He was a tough guy and a gentleman of the old school. He knew how to talk to you straight, and knew more law in his little finger than most lawyers will ever know. He made me laugh. There won't be another like him. Godspeed, Jay.