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| Marcel Strigberger |
In spite of this area being emotionally charged, I believe I was able during 40-plus years of practice to maintain a modicum of sanity. A modicum.
The fireworks of fervour can take a toll on the lawyer’s soundness.
Putting it mildly, family cases are rarely dull. The public will forever flock to watch iconic films such as Kramer vs. Kramer, Scenes from a Marriage, or Marriage Story, as opposed to a flick about, say, taxes. I doubt Universal will shortly launch a movie entitled something like Gone to the Cayman Islands.
The key to dealing with family law cases successfully is appreciating the human element. Realize that every human being wants to be treated with a modicum of consideration. A modicum.
I once attended a mediation where my client’s wife was called Darleen. My client was having an affair with a woman called Doreen. The wife was slightly livid referring to the mistress as “that harlot.” At one point I inadvertently switched the names, calling the wife Doreen. She was certain I did it deliberately and she charged out of the mediation. We all tried to console her, offering profuse apologies, but she was inconsolable. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not put Darlene together again.
You would never see this happen, say, in commercial litigation. I highly doubt that if Amazon whose virtual assistant is Alexa was in a mediation with Google and if some question arises, the Google lawyer blurts out, “Let’s ask Siri.”
The good thing in my aforementioned case was that it did settle eventually. Maybe it helped the fact that the husband was eventually dumped by Darlene. Oops, Doreen.
Unfortunately emotions in family matters often involve cruelty and violence. And I have yet to see a party admit to same.
I once cross-examined a husband, one Heinz, on the wife’s cruelty allegations. There was actually something about the guy’s appearance which added credibility to the wife’s claims of cruelty. For one, he wore small round framed glasses. He also had a high forehead. Actually, he bore a moderate resemblance to Heinrich Himmler.
When asked, the man said, “I wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”
About 15 minutes later, as I was concluding my cross-examination, he blurted out gratuitously out of the blue, “A fly, maybe.”
I suppose he thought this impromptu admission may have added some credence to his testimony.
Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for some of the violence to percolate over to the representing lawyers, especially via belligerent male spouses. Once at the family court while waiting for our case to be called, I asked the husband’s lawyer to clarify some of his client’s financial information. The husband, one Chuck, was not happy with my presence throughout the case, taking it as personal affront that I was representing his wife altogether. He told me a couple of times during previous encounters, “Acting for that woman. How could you look at yourself in the mirror when you shave?” (Actually, I had no problem doing so).
When I queried about his finances, he lunged at me, fingers clawed, and bellowed, “You know everything about me already. Do you know this?”
His lawyer fortunately restrained the man and security took over. The matter fizzled out soon. But I will say the event did likely raise my blood pressure. And it was probably a good thing I did not call him Darleen.
At times, disgruntled parties even threatened serious violence against me. One husband, Maurizio, told his wife before a court hearing that he would do something very nasty to both her and “your lawyer.” This gentleman, I understood, had some familiarity with firearms. We notified security and a plain clothes police officer was assigned to sit in the body of the court.
While in the courtroom I felt a bit uneasy turning my back on Maurizio. I envisioned Wild Bill Hickok sitting in that saloon in Deadwood South Dakota, playing his last hand of poker.
Fortunately the encounter passed without incident. In fact, after the hearing, the detective came over and told me he was all set, adding jokingly, I presume, “Had the guy taken out a gun and fired at you, he would only have gotten off one shot.”
That was most reassuring.
In my practice I always made it a cardinal point to act civilly and respectfully towards all. I would often see initial letters from opposing counsel to my client reading something like:
“My client Mrs. Wilma Henderson will no longer put up with your monstrous conduct. You are hereby admonished to vacate the matrimonial home within seven days failing which we shall apply for a restraining order … etc.”
Upon being retained, I made it a practice to telephone opposing counsel and break the ice with some humour. I would say something like, “I have just been retained by this guy from Loch Ness.”
This approach worked very often to diffuse matters, leading to a peaceful resolution, though like anything else, not always. I doubt it could have diffused gunslinger Maurizio by telling him a joke.
Then again, it beat responding emotionally and nastily in kind.
Navigating through a family law case successfully really gets down to an abundance of one quality: namely, respect. Everybody wants some respect. At least a modicum. Again some confrontation will still occur but more often than not the seas will remain calmer.
I conclude thinking of a co-op student Raj who once worked for me. We spent months on a highly charged case involving custody and visitation rights to children, allegations of violence, breaches of court orders, etc.
At the end of his work term I asked Raj what he had learned from all of this. He replied, “I learned never to get married.”
At least the experience did not tarnish his sense of humour.
Marcel Strigberger retired from his Greater Toronto Area litigation practice and continues the more serious business of humorous author and speaker. His book Boomers, Zoomers, and Other Oomers: A Boomer-biased Irreverent Perspective on Aging is available on Amazon, (e-book) and paper version. Visit www.marcelshumour.com. Follow him @MarcelsHumour.
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