For many of us over the past week, the tragedy in Haiti, health care and politics have been reduced to background noise because of the unexpected loss of Tommy Smith, one of Cleburne County’s native sons and prominent lawyers. Until his death Saturday at the too-young age of 52, Tommy served for many years as the Deputy Prosecuting Attorney for Cleburne County, and he was a constant presence in the County’s District and Circuit courtrooms.
Although some lawyerphobic people would disagree, lawyers make up some of the most interesting, informative and entertaining people in our society. In the nature of the law practice – particularly those of small-town lawyers who, by necessity, handle a broad range of matters and deal with a broad variety of people – the lawyer is frequently exposed to all manner of human frailties and idiosyncrasies, and less frequently to their admirable qualities. This tends to make lawyers more tolerant and understanding of the human condition. It can also make them more cynical.
As Deputy Prosecuting Attorney, Tommy Smith dealt on a daily basis with what some might call the dregs of society: people of poverty who have lost hope of emerging from that condition, turning instead in frustration to crime; people who have committed crime through need, greed, passion or other motivation; people who have turned to drugs or excessive use of alcohol as a means of escaping reality.
By the time Tommy Smith saw these people, they were caught up in the gristmill of Justice, often wearing chains and orange jumpsuits. Unless one enjoys other people’s misfortune and suffering, constant exposure to the sheer volume of those defendants and their conditions and situations can be a depressing experience, not only to the defendant, but to the prosecutor, the judge and other court officials.
While judges dispense sentences, those sentences are usually based upon the recommendation of the prosecutors. Some prosecutors become jaded and recommend the harshest sentences, failing to look for each individual’s potential for redemption.
Tommy Smith never lost his objectivity and willingness to assess each of the cases he prosecuted on an individual basis. His goal was to achieve justice according to the nature of the crime charged and the circumstances of each case.
Tommy recognized that a felony conviction on a young person’s record would affect them for the rest of their lives. If he believed that that young person was genuinely interested in attempting to redeem his or her life, he would come up with a resolution of their case that achieved justice for the State and the victim, and yet allowed the defendant an opportunity for a second chance. Many of those people have since justified Tommy’s faith in them.
The lawyer’s profession is, by the nature of the system in which we work, adversarial. Lawyers are today’s equivalent of the hired gunslinger of the 1800s. They represent the interests of their clients in negotiating contracts with other lawyers and their clients, and attempt in litigation to defeat the claims or defenses raised by the adversaries. Yet, at the end of the day, most opposing attorneys shake hands, congratulate each other on a job well done, and go their ways as friends and colleagues.
One of the things about the legal profession that non-lawyers have difficulty in understanding is how lawyers can oppose each other so vigorously all day in a court room, and then have a drink together after the case is over. It is possible because most lawyers understand that forceful advocacy on behalf of a client is not intended to be a personal affront to the opposing counsel, and that regardless of who wins in a particular case, the results may be reversed the next time you oppose each other. It is called professionalism.
That objectivity, or professional perspective, is especially important in a place where, as in Cleburne County, the bar is made up of a small number of lawyers. The lawyers see each other, negotiate with each other, and litigate against each other on almost a daily basis. Out of necessity, one has to put aside past victories and defeats in dealing with other members of the local bar.
Tommy Smith recognized that winning and losing is part of the practice of law. He was gracious in victory, and held no grudges in defeat. He was always willing to accommodate other lawyers when they needed more time to respond to a motion or to reschedule a hearing because of a personal problem.
He was a consummate professional, and because of that, he made the practice of law easier for the other lawyers with whom he dealt.
Like most good country lawyers, Tommy used his cases as sources of entertaining stories (“war stories,” as lawyers call them) about defendants, clients, attorneys, judges, juries and other people involved in the judicial system. Tommy was a good story-teller, and was always ready to swap his stories with those of other lawyers when they gathered in the judges’ chambers prior to convening court. His stories invariably got the biggest laughs.
Tommy Smith was a good lawyer and a dedicated public servant who was a key element in the administration of justice in Cleburne County. He was taken from us and from his family too soon, and we shall miss him.
(Richard Mays, a Heber Springs attorney and environmentalist, offers a liberal viewpoint on politics and social issues in each Friday’s edition)
