Podcast – "Nature Abhors a Vacuum." So Does the Media
In a high-profile case, if you do not fill the silence, someone else will. In this episode of "The Trial Lawyer's Handbook," litigation attorney Dan Small continues discussing his representation of former Louisiana Gov. Edwin Edwards and the challenge of managing public opinion in a case that drew intense media attention. Mr. Small explains how his arrival from Boston quickly became a story of its own, fueling speculation that he had been hired to negotiate a secret deal. He recounts how, without clear information, rumors escalated into a televised narrative involving then-U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno. Mr. Small describes a courthouse press moment where Edwards used humor and timing to debunk the false storyline, and he closes with a reminder that in major cases, even offhand moments can be observed and turned into headlines.
Listen to more episodes of The Trial Lawyer's Handbook here.
Mr. Small is also the author of the American Bar Association (ABA) book Lessons Learned from a Life on Trial: Landmark Cases from a Veteran Litigator and What They Can Teach Trial Lawyers.
Dan Small: Welcome to another episode of "The Trial Lawyer's Handbook." In this episode, we'll continue discussing my representation of former Louisiana Governor Edwin Edwards. These episodes are based in part on my latest ABA book, "Lessons Learned from a Life on Trial."
When I arrived in Louisiana to defend former Governor Edwin Edwards, the first of many shocks was the news of my hiring. I'd been involved in various high-profile cases before, but none where my involvement was itself a big story. This was different. Edwin Edwards had dominated Louisiana politics for decades. Now, this Louisiana legend was replacing his renowned local attorney with someone from... Where? Boston? You might as well have said Timbuktu down on the bayou. Why had he done such a thing? There had to be a secret reason. We were giving no explanation, so the speculation ran rampant in the media. And the idea began to build that I had somehow been hired to cut a deal for Edwin. We had no interest in getting into the middle of that maelstrom, but with no statement from us, the rumor continued to feed on itself.
In any high-profile case, it's often difficult to decide when to speak and when to remain silent. Aristotle said, "Nature abhors a vacuum." He was talking about physics, not the media, but the same rule applies. Without contravention, the rumor spread until Louisiana's biggest TV station ran a lengthy lead report about how I had been hired to go around the local U.S. Attorney and cut a deal for the governor with my "good friend," then-U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno.
None of it was true, of course. I'd been hired try the case. And although I had great respect for Janet Reno, at the time, we had never even met. There was no discussion with anyone about a guilty plea. But in Louisiana, politics and sports are both big stories: politics as sport, and sports as politics. So, no surprise, I guess, that the two biggest stories for a week or two were Edwin hiring me and LSU firing its football coach.
The day after the lead story ran on TV, we happened to have a motion hearing before the judge. I can't remember what the motions were, but it was the first time that I would appear in public as Edwin's lawyer. So there was a huge crowd of reporters and cameras waiting on the courthouse steps when the hearing ended. With multiple defendants, lawyers, families, friends and hangers-on, we always moved with a big crowd of people. As we walked toward the front doors of the courthouse, Edwin saw the media mob and calmly motioned for everyone to stop, which of course they did. Then he casually took my arm, and with me just following his lead, we sauntered out onto the front steps.
Once we were out on the steps, it was chaos. The media mob was shouting questions to both of us: Was there a deal? Would we plead guilty? Why was I there? Partially, they wanted to get answers to confirm the rumors they'd been touting. Partially, they wanted me to speak so they could film me speaking in tongues or however creatures from Boston spoke. Instead, Edwin held up his hands for quiet and solemnly stated that he had an important announcement to make. Shocked silence from the crowd. This is what they'd been telling their audience. It was the announcement of a deal. Governor Edwin Edwards, the ultimate fighter, was going to plead guilty. They knew it.
And Edwin, of course, was the master of the moment. After a brief pause, he went on: "I've thought about this deeply. I've prayed about it. I've discussed it at length with my family." Long pause. Here it comes. The mob held its breath. "And after deep contemplation," Edwin said, "I've decided to turn down the job of LSU football coach." A heartbeat of confused silence, then a burst of appreciative laughter. The master of the one-liner had done it again, this time to the very reporters who had reveled in his past zingers. Edwin waved thank you, and the two of us sauntered off. And that was it. The rumors stopped. Everyone in the media understood that they'd been schooled, called to task for following false leads and generating false rumors.
Of course, the media often gets the last laugh, and they got it here on me through a one-liner of their own. During trials, I often try to get outside briefly during the afternoon break. It lets you stretch your legs, get some fresh air and take a minute. During the long Edwards trial, I would try every day to go out to the little park next to the courthouse, where I would sit on a bench and drink a Barq's root beer. The media mob was restricted to an area by the courthouse steps, some distance away. And first, they would wave and try to shout questions, but eventually they gave up when I just waved back and they respected my little break. One day though, I was sick with the flu. So when I came out and sat on the bench, I put my head back and closed my eyes just for a couple of minutes. One of the news photographers across the park had a long-range lens and took a picture. The next day on the front page of the newspaper was that picture of me, head back, eyes closed, with the caption, "The defense rests."
Everything you do in a high-profile case is being watched and analyzed. Sometimes in wild speculation, sometimes just for fun. Nature abhors a vacuum. Indeed.