My Day In Court.

photo by wallyg

A headline like, “Circuit City Bankrupt; Closes 567 Stores,” doesn’t hit as close to home when you’re in school and not looking for a job. If you do have a job, you’re one of the lucky ones. The self-doubt and rejection of not being able to find work gets replaced by the slightly less threatening specter of fear that you might be downsized or replaced by a computer.

None of that seemed to be relevant though during my visit to the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals until the bailiff announced the next case, Lowery v. Motor Works. Mr. Kelly, was the attorney representing Motor Works walked up in the standard black suit, yellow tie combination. He was a cookie-cutter small-time attorney: a middle-aged anglo-white man, a bit soft in the middle.

Then the bailiff announced, “Mr. Lowery will be representing himself.” Mr. Lowery, a middle-aged skinnish black man, walked up in street clothes and set his manila folder onto the podium.

Lowery: “Is it alright if Mr. Kelly goes first and then I go after?”
Judge: “It’s usually customary for the person bringing the case to go first. That’s you, Mr. Lowery.”

In an Appeals court, there’s a panel of judges instead of a jury. Two lawyers take turns speaking at a podium, and the judges get to respond back to them like a high-stakes high school debate. The three judges had different ways of coping with Mr. Lowery’s presence. One couldn’t stop twirling her water glass. The other woman tried to hide how tickled she by feigning seriousness. All three were looking pretty somber from the last case.

Lowery: “You all need to laugh some more! Smile. Have some fun.”
Judge: “It’s serious work”
Lowery: “I’m just saying…”

After that, the judge in the middle had a shit-eating giggle-face on for the rest of the hearing. He led the questioning.

Judge: “Go ahead sir.”

A few months ago, Mr. Lowery had been on the job making a delivery for his boss, Mike, when he got stuck in traffic. When he got back to headquarters late, Mr. Lowery said Mike fired him for no reason. Mr. Lowery’s big problem with getting the court to listen was simple: firing someone for “no reason” isn’t illegal.

Judge: “In California, if you’re an ‘at will’ employee — unless there’s an agreement to the contrary — you can be fired any reason or no reason…”
Lowery: “Well that’s the problem. I got fired for no reason.”

Judge Giggle-Face continued to explain the term ‘at will employee.’

Lowery:”‘At will employee?’ That should be abolished! I’m going to write a letter to President Barack Obama saying that this should be abolished. This is slavery.”

And then Judge Giggle-Face gently suggested that it was opposing counsel’s turn to speak. Apparently, Mr. Lowery had a history with Mr. Kelly.

Lowery: “You know he’s just gonna try to run his crapola.”
The three judges’ reactions made it clear that crapola had no place in their courtroom.
Lowery: “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good speaker. I’m kinda nervous.”
Judge: “You’re doing fine Mr. Lowery. You’ve made your points very clearly.”
Lowery: “I’m just gonna say before he gets up here, number one, I’m not gonna pay him any money. Lemme make that one thing clear. I’m gonna take this to the Supreme Court of the United States.”

With that, Lowery left the podium Mr. Kelly made his points short and sweet: his client Mike didn’t do anything illegal. When Mr. Lowery was allowed back up, he decided to direct his rebuttal toward Mr. Kelly instead of the judge.

Lowery: “Mr. Kelly! I heard him call Vietnamese people Gooks”
Judge: “Mr. Lowery, we’re over here.”
Lowery: “He talked to all these Vietnamese people like that… I just didn’t like it.”
Judge: “Is any of this information pertinent?”
Lowery (frustrated): “Does this this have something to do with my case?!”
Judge: “I thought your point was ‘at will’ should be changed.”
Lowery: “And it should. It should have to say something about it in the employee handbook or the work contract that you can get fired like that.”

And it went on like that with Mr. Lowery arguing about the unfairness of at will employment, apologizing for being nervous, and fleshing out details about the questionable character of Mike, his former employer. Then he made his closing statement:

Lowery: “I know you all are gonna rule against me. I know that’s usually what happens.”
Judge: “We’ll get back to you with a written decision within 90 days, Mr. Lowery.”

And then it was over. They recessed for lunch, and then there he was on the elevator talking to us — a bunch of law students — still making his case about the state of affairs in California, and the state of the economy, and how he’s really going to move back to Pennsylvania this time. He seemed like he just needed someone to listen — anyone — and if a judge wouldn’t do it, maybe we would.

Lowery: “I’m cool with you guys. You all have gotta do something about that ‘at will’ employment though, you know? Try and get it repealed.”

America lost 34,000 jobs when Circuit City announced it was closing all 567 stores last Friday. There are 34,000 Mr. Lowerys out there, and they’re all wondering what they did wrong. All we can tell them is that you can be fired for any reason or no reason. Sorry America, “Wrong place, wrong time.”

But Mr. Lowery isn’t gonna take that for an answer. He’s gonna find someone who’ll listen. He’s gonna fight for his job, and he’s going to keep swinging until he gets to the Supreme Court. Mr. Lowery isn’t just exercising his rights as an American. Mr. Lowery is America.

Exiting the building, we turned right towards campus. Mr. Lowery turned left, off into the sunset — maybe off toward Pennsylvania.

On the walk back, someone told me that Mr. Lowery had filed the exact same lawsuit against three other employers in the past. Whoops. Barbara, who was standing across from me and Mr. Lowery on the elevator, asked me if I noticed how much he smelled like whiskey. Not having a good sense of smell, I could only respond, “I’m not sure if it was whiskey. I think he just smelled in general.” Maybe there was a reason he was fired.

Mr. Lowery really is America.