by Kenneth P. Nolan

When you first march into a courthouse, be it a tiny, battered bandbox with worn, scarred tables and squeaking juror chairs or the majestic new federal ones with carved, gleaming benches and plush dark carpets, you never know whether you will find justice and integrity or whether you'll be home jobbed, your arguments scorned, your case deep-sixed.

Yes, courthouses are strange places, secular churches really, built to inspire awe, reverence with priests in black vestments looking down on the masses. The walls are lined with paintings of somber saints and on the altar sit implements of power--a gavel, tomes which contain the gospel according to Congress. Sinners stand before these judges and plead their cases. They confess sins and beg forgiveness. Penance is dispensed publicly and sternly in fines or years and, of course, you must obey.

Yet we litigators must regularly appear in such venues. For some, it is an alien place to be avoided since only bad can result. For others, it is home, nurturing, a den where disputes are resolved equitably, where the cold statue of Lady Justice comes alive and justice is dispensed with wisdom, with common sense.

Like any other adventure, you rarely know which you will receive when you climb the stone steps and pass through the metal detector. The reasons range from the facts to the law to the venue to your expertise. But there are human factors as well, which are as important. For this American established church is similar to those in Rome or Jerusalem or Mecca and are comprised of people, learned and magnificent, flawed and foolish. And it is not only your interaction with Her Honor that can determine success but with the other acolytes--the law clerk, secretary, court officer, calendar clerk, those essential yet often silent pieces of the judicial puzzle who run the courthouse, who read the endless motions, schedule the cases and shepherd the jurors in the elusive quest to capture justice for one moment, just this one time.

And occasionally the pieces fit, the system works. The judge struggles with her rulings yet applies the law to the facts without worrying who is rewarded or harmed. The foreman in the clean white shirt and scuffed shoes proudly rises to announce the verdict as the other jurors watch him speak their words. The courtroom is quiet, the jaded court officer and clerk respectfully gaze at American democracy in action. And whether you won or lost, you got your fair shake, you got justice Brooklyn style with the occasional elbow to the mouth, but it didn't matter if you were yellow or brown, Muslim or Hindu, rich or dirt poor. You came, tried your case and a verdict was announced. That's all you're entitled to, all you can ask for. Now take your blow-ups and get lost. Cause there's another case in the hall and we spit them out, two a week or more.

This is what we worked and hoped for--to participate in a trial where justice prevails. Where everything is decided on the merits. This is what we spent hours and days and months studying arcane legal decisions, memorizing deposition testimony, interviewing witnesses so we could skillfully represent the client, introduce evidence and make argument to convince the jury, the court that we're right, we should win.

Yet this is, as we all realize, the real world. A place of petty and evil people. And the courthouse is a microcosm of this fragile globe. As litigators we deal with people. And it ain't easy. Check out the anonymous postings in Rants and Raves on Craigslist and you will read hatred, ignorance and cruelty. All types inhabit any busy courthouse, mostly good, but everyday people with their own grudges, prejudices. Some of them work there, including those bright lights that passed the bar. Yeah, you're no different even though some believe that a framed sheepskin on the wall excuses rudeness and arrogance. For it is not only the judge you must convince, impress, but the others, the court clerk, stenographer, law clerk, court officer, law secretary, those essential in achieving victory.

So here are some ideas that may help you win the case, make partner, be a star or, more importantly, obtain an adjournment.

Be respectful. To everyone. Newsflash: Most people in the courthouse aren't in love with lawyers. Heck, most of our families don't approve half what we do. But so what. That's the other guy, the one who sued Benihana in the "death by flying shrimp" case as the New York tabloids termed it. The chef tossed a shrimp at a patron who tried to dodge it, injured his neck and tragically died 11 months later. The jury quickly tossed the $16 million case amid the newspaper jokes and editorials. That's not me or you, although I have a few cases which bark when I open the file.

Yes, there's a bit of arrogance, stupidity and rudeness in us all. And despite my best efforts, one or more of these suddenly appears like that creature in the movie "Alien." I'm standing in line at court, waiting patiently when the clerk decides it's time for coffee and leaves. Or some pushy regular jumps to the front to ask a question which results in a computer search and back and forth and you're late for your appearance and your face gets red, and just as another question is asked, that ugly, terrible creature jumps out of your body and says, "What's going on here, there's a line and you should wait your turn and how come you're helping him and not the next person in line, moron." And then the clerk stares at you with disgust and takes his time so you're there twice as long and when it's your turn, finds a minor error in your papers which means you have to go back to the office redo them and return tomorrow.

Put yourself in the clerk's position. He's civil service which means no Christmas bonus if he works his tail off. There's his ancient, cigarette stained metal desk, paper piled high, obsolete computers that break down and a line out the door that never ends. Half the lawyers don't know the court rules even though they're simple and available. The clerk's job is to make sure you've done your job, so all day he sits there and explains why you screwed up, why your papers don't comply with the law. You have to do them over again, can't accept them, check section 1493 (a) (2). It wouldn't be fair, can't let you take advantage of your adversary, sorry.

Assume that all who work in the courthouse are professionals who are as intelligent, refined and well-mannered as you. Ambition, education and career are often the result of economic and family circumstances. In a word, money. Just look at the business of college testing and applications. You have Kaplan courses and then individual tutors for the SAT and a separate tutor to ghostwrite the essay. Parents, like myself, shuttle their kids to visit 10, 12 colleges, spending thousands to make sure little Sally ends up in a prestigious college that she'll like. And then spends spring break in Cancun. I won't even mention the craziness surrounding private nursery schools and the crap that parents go through so their little Madison at age 3 starts on the road to the ivies.

In my working class neighborhood where I was raised, the vista of what you could be was limited. Our Greatest Generation parents were depression raised, immigrant based. With a bunch of snot-nosed brats, the concern was food and clothing not the quality of the dorm rooms at Stanford. We learned to work young and hard, delivering papers, shoveling snow, painting fences, walking up tenement stairs hauling a box of groceries. So safe, secure jobs were paramount. While in college, I worked part-time for The New York Times and whenever I told a neighborhood guy what I did, the response was always, "Mailers?" "No." "Printers?" Assumed I was in a union rather than on the editorial side.

So we became cops and firefighters, nurses and teachers, construction workers. Sure some gravitated to Wall Street, law or medicine and the occasional priest. Many success stories, but there was little correlation between brains and career. Many who opted for civil service jobs were more intelligent, more accomplished than those who pursued college and grad school. And that is true within the court system. Those court clerks and officers are often as sophisticated as those who try cases. They should be treated as such. Sure they didn't go to Princeton or Duke, but many are college educated, doing essential and effective work. And even if they're not, treat them with respect. Please and thank you are effective and mandatory.

Realize who has the power. I recently selected a jury in a medical malpractice failure to diagnose lung cancer case and was sent to a trial part to open. My adversary made a last minute motion for an evidentiary hearing to determine if the x-ray we intended to use was the one given by his doctor to my client and later read by another physician whose notes indicated a mass in the left lobe. Defendant made claims of fraud, spoliation and mass murder. While the judge was checking his calendar to schedule the hearing, the court clerk immediately announced, "Judge you can't do that. You're a trial part. We try cases here counselor. We don't have evidentiary hearings. If you want a hearing, go back to Judge Smith (the assignment judge)."

The Judge with the bright disposition and kind manner agreed said he would hear argument on the motion tomorrow morn, deny the motion and begin trial. That evening settlement negotiations progressed and after the judge officially denied the motion, the case settled. Thanks to the clerk.

Judges are human-for the most part. Everyday they work with the same people, a law clerk or two, a secretary, a court clerk, a stenographer, a court officer, all of whom have an interest in what goes on in the courtroom. Law clerks from the Supreme Court of the United States to County Court in Onondaga County research the law, summarize the facts and draft opinions. When I was in law school, I interned for a criminal court judge who had an issue involving whether the search and seizure which uncovered a handgun was legal. This was my first assignment and I had only taken the basic crim law class so I spent the weekend in the library researching until I stumbled upon the answer. The gun had to be tossed much to the chagrin of my judge. Nonetheless, she did so even reading part of my memo verbatim into the record.

Busy trial judges do not have the time to read the endless paper, research every issue and write learned, succinct opinions. They have to rely on others for assistance. Not a question of effort, but of time. So you have 25 year olds analyzing everything from minor discovery disputes to momentous constitutional issues. I will leave to others whether this is good, but it occurs and you can't ignore it.

Get to know the clerks, court officers and the like. For two reasons: can't hurt and they're generally nice people. If you have to run to another courtroom, they can make sure you're case isn't marked off or can sneak you in early for a conference. Small favors, indeed, but crucial when you have 4 cases on before different judges.

Chianti is a family style Italian restaurant a few blocks away from my home. I occasionally stop by and grab a platter of penne puttanesca to go. One evening I notice a local lawyer holding court at a table groaning with food. "Hey Kenny," he calls, "you know these guys," introducing me to various court officers, clerks, stenographers. I mention a case or two, recall a favor and nod knowingly to the lawyer who's much shrewder than I thought. He won't win a case by stuffing them with veal rollatine and broccoli rabe, but ninety percent of our work is motions, conferences, discovery disputes which are scheduled and sometimes decided by these same people.

Courtroom dynamics. Golfing with the judge, having a beer with the court officer won't guarantee success. "Kenny, I just don't wanna get hurt," reasoned one old pro. You still have to convince the jury and nothing beats expertise and four aces. For six or twelve ordinary citizens decide whether you win or lose. But jury trials are about as rare as Knicks'victories. Yet don't fool yourself. It's only when you know the case will settle is it tried. So always prepare for trial.

Know the facts and research the law. Read the pattern jury instructions when the case comes in so you know what to prove before discovery commences. Visit the courthouse and observe the jurors, their dress, their newspapers, magazines, books. Ask the regulars about the judge and google her to learn her hobbies, interests. Sit in a trial for a feel for the judge's demeanor. Is she reserved, allowing the lawyers try the case or does she take over questioning, like the judge trying a slip and fall on a darkened stairway who asked the plaintiff who testified that the stairway was dark and dim. The judge then asked if she could read a newspaper with the available light in the stairway. When the plaintiff responded "no," the judge continued, "And yet you walked down the steps?" The Appellate Division tossed the judge's granting of defendant's motion that plaintiff failed to make a prima facie case.

Technology is wonderful. We can easily and instantaneously communicate with everyone all over the universe. And every error can find its way around the world in nanoseconds. Just ask the young lawyer who emailed a partner, "bla, bla, bla." It's too easy to sit in our cozy, clean office and never venture into the gutter and dirty our fingernails. There is no substitute for seeing, touching. How can you try a case to a jury that travels to the courthouse by the R train if you never owned a Metrocard? I learn more in a 3 minute face-to-face conversation than 100 pages of research. Observing the court at work reveals more than any research, any "how to" book. You'll learn who does what, the role of the law clerk, court officer, the judge.

Sure you can win even though the judge doesn't like you. Sometimes it's part of the underdog strategy, but it's much easier if you get along. I once tried a case for about 6 weeks in a tiny courtroom and for that entire time, the judge never even said a single good morning to me or my clients. He hated me, my clients, my case and even though I won, it was a miserable experience. Every day was a battle against my adversary and the court. A horrible time. Know this before you open.

Is the judge hands-on and decides everything himself or does he rely on a law clerk to decide the motions, evidentiary issues. Who writes the jury charge? Some judges don't even participate in the pre-charge conference? Who keeps the evidence? And where? All of these relatively trivial issues can become essential during trial.

The more you know, the more skilled you are. And it's often the little things that determine victory. Jurors try hard to judge the case on the facts only, but we know that perception is often reality. Which is why we dress to please, why one lawyer changed wedding bands for a trial because he thought his real wedding band was too gaudy. Why we soften accents when we try cases away from our home area. Tone down that Texas twang if you're trying a case in New Jersey.

Use the manners that your mother taught. Make her proud by treating all in the courthouse with respect and good humor. For the same reason, I always eat chicken soup when I feel ill-it can't hurt.