How
in the world could something so innocent as a tiny little metal clicker
have to do with buying a house in Key West? How, indeed!
The above photo shows
Judge Joseph P. Lewis, Betty the division clerk, Velma the court
reporter (stenographer), and me. The photo was taken 43 years ago. I was
Judge Lewis' legal staff assistant. I had recently graduated from the
University of Denver College of Law when the photo was taken. I had
passed the bar and was looking for a job as an attorney. I was 25 at
that time. I stood 5'8" tall and probably weighed 135 pounds. Look at the
pic. I don't look very intimidating, and I certainly never lived up to
the nickname my dad gave me as a child - Butch. What happened one day at the
Jefferson County Hall of Justice in Golden Colorado (that's where Coor's
Beer is made) may help you understand the importance of the clicker and
how it relates to me as a Realtor 43 years later.
|
Former Jefferson County Hall of Justice |
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Walkway from former Hall of Justice to Clerk's Office and County Jail |
Judge Lewis' courtroom was on the forth floor (top
floor) of the building pictured above right. The county jail was located
about 150 feet away in a separate building. The county clerk's office
was situated between the two. The interior of the Hall of Justice was
open from the ground floor to the ceiling of the forth floor with
courtrooms or administrative rooms situated on all four sides of the
building. Interior walls were blond brick. Noise of any sort sounded
throughout the building and even filtered into the courtrooms.
One
afternoon I was in the hallway outside our courtroom talking to two
Deputy District Attorneys. A man in his 40's or early 50's exited the
clerk's office and began clicking a clicker in rapid succession as he
walked the hallway heading toward the elevators. Back then we did not
have police or sheriff's officers in the courtrooms or hallways. Nobody
had to pass through a metal detector at the entrance to the courthouse.
We had not yet become a society that was afraid of everything and
everyone. So there was nobody to stop this metallic madman from
disturbing the solemnity of the courthouse.
I left the
Deputy D.A.s and moved quickly to the elevator hall where I grabbed the
elevator door and braced my right arm against the door to prevent it
from closing. I yelled "Ralph, call the Sheriff!" Ralph was a older
man, probably in his sixties, whose office was located just off the
elevator lobby. The clicker man was alarmed when I prevented his exit. He began chopping at my arm with his arm, trying to break my hold. He
hit me repeatedly. And it hurt like hell.
Steve
Worrell, a fellow classmate from law school, came out of his courtroom
into the hall to see what was going on. Steve played football in high
school and even though he wasn't much taller than me, he was definitely
bigger in size and stature, and surely he wasn't the sort of guy you
would want to pick a fight with. I wouldn't call myself a wimp, but I
was. Oops I just outed myself as a wimp!
Steve reached past my arm and grabbed clicker man
by the shirt and quickly waltzed him straight across the hallway into
the marble wall. I think Steve was about ready to punch the man, but
someone either grabbed the man or Steve to prevent things from getting
more difficult. Within a couple of minutes a couple of deputy sheriffs
arrived. I told them what had happened. They put the man in handcuffs
and took him next door to the county jail.
Later that afternoon I
got a phone call from the Captain in charge at the jail that day. He
asked me to come over and sign the complaint under which the man had
been arrested. When I got there the captain made me an offer. He said I
could go inside the holding cell and hit the guy. He even offered to
have some guards hold him for me so that I could beat the hell out of
him. I am as serious as I can be. I don't lie, and I don't make stuff
like this up. I told him no and that was the end of that.
The
next day the man was arraigned in the courtroom of Judge C. F. Johnson. The
Judge had me sworn in, and I related what had happened in the hallway the day before. My
recollection is that the man admitted what I said was accurate. He was
taken away on a mental health hold for three days. I don't recall
anything further ever happening in this regard. But I will never forget
the Captain's offer to let me beat up the guy who had hit me.
Many locals in Key West visit the Monroe County Sheriff's web page
CLICK HERE
several times a week where we can see who has been arrested and on what
charge. It's not uncommon to see someone we know get picked up for
driving under the influence or some other infraction. Sometimes I see images of people that disturb me.
48 years old when arrested. Disabled and held on municipal ordinance violation
68 years old when arrested for failure to appear
58 years old when arrested for failure to appear
Barbara was 62 years old when arrested for a municipal ordinance violation
None
of the offenses would explain how these people got the bruises and lacerations pictured above. There is no justification in my mind that could
possibly permit someone in authority to hurt these people. These
pictures are just examples of what you can and will see on a regular
basis of people who are processed through the Monroe County Jail. I'm
not saying the Sheriff's officers did this and I am not saying a city
policeman hit these people. Somebody did.
I moved to Key West in December 1993 and have been selling homes since December 1996. I love
living in Key West, Florida. I encourage people to move here and fulfill
their dream of living in Paradise. I encourage would-be buyers to checkout the Monroe County Sheriff's website on a regular basis - not to see photos of the abused but to see where the defendants live, where they were arrested, and the charges against them. This personal search is a sure fire way to determine for oneself areas of town that a buyer may determine are better than others. Key West is a very safe place to live. Most of our person on person crime occurs between spouses, partners, roommates or people living together. Stranger on stranger crimes are normally bar fights.
I will never regret not punching the man with the clicker. Never!