Doug Van Pelt

Doug Van Pelt on Trial

I had my day in court today. I was alone in a courtroom with a prosecuting attorney against me, a deputy, a court clerk and, of course, the judge and the baliff. I was sworn in. I was able to cross-examine a witness. I took the stand. I testified. It was the real deal. Part of me was beside myself, taking it in as a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It was totally surreal.

First, some background will help:
I was sent a letter from Williamson County (four years later) after an auto accident I had on Sunday evening (6pm), May 22, 2005. I arrived early and waited (and waited, and waited) for my turn inside the courtroom. The baliff called my name, held the door open for me and told me I'd have to remove my backpack (a full pack, decorated with skulls all over it). I asked if it'd be safe in the back and he told me, "You're the only one in the room."

I was given a letter instructing me what to wear, how to address the judge, etc. I was informed of my right to an attorney, but this court date was to dispute a traffic ticket that I did not want to pay; so there's no way I'm going to hire an attorney that would easily charge me as much as or more than my court costs if I lost.

I was travelling on Hwy. 79 way back in 2005 when the auto in front of me peeled away to reveal a stopped vehicle turning right. I couldn't stop in time and hit the packed vehicle. It was not a good scene. I was ticketed later that day for "Failure to Control Speed." I wanted to dispute it, so I called the court and requested a court date.

A friend at our old church had told me that he represented himself in court many times, arguing his way out of traffic tickets, etc. I understood that many times the policeman that wrote the ticket may not show up on the trial date and he'd win by default. So, I was surprised to see Deputy Kelly and an attorney for the State of Texas behind a small table to the right. My table was empty, waiting for me.

I had gone before a judge in the same building before, when I was issued a traffic ticket for speeding. I wanted to get it dismissed by taking defensive driving; but, when I was filing for my driving record and all the things you do in order to get this kind of infraction dismissed and I discovered that there was a timing technicality in my filing too late, which disqualified for ticket dismissal, but I went before the court to see if they'd show me some leniency and mercy and dismiss the ticket. I showed up at that building, signed in, and waited for a baliff to open the doors and allow us all to enter. Over the course of an hour or so, the room filled up with people. One by one people went up before the judge's stand, standing behind a counter and made their case. Everyone in the room could sit and eavesdrop on your business there. I brought my notebook in there with me and was working away on the magazine. Eventually, they called my name and I went up there. I spoke at a high enough volume to be heard by the judge, but not so loud that everyone could hear. At that time, I showed my paperwork, that I had taken the defensive driving already and was only disqualified from dismissing the ticket by less than a month. The judge instructed the clerk to dismiss it for me and that was that.

I remember reading on the informational letter that if I did not hire an attorney, that the court was not required to inform me of the etiquette and procedures during the trial. It stated that my failure to represent myself properly could cost me my case. I was kind of intimidated, I admit.

The whole scene was kind of surreal. I was to remain standing after I arrived and the proceeding was announced: "The State of Texas versus Doug Van Pelt," or something like that was announced. I thought to myself, 'Wow! I'm really on trial here.' Here was this attorney, presenting a case that very forcefully and as persuasively as possible, painted the situation as a drop-kick easy decision: "Doug Van Pelt had clearly failed to control his speed." The deputy was the first (and only) witness that was called up, sworn in, and asked questions. The attorney was asking him about his work experience, establishing that he had the knowledge and experience to assess auto accidents and accurately place blame, etc.

I had not rehearsed what I was going to say ... at least, not until this particular morning. I hand wrote some notes to come up with a clear and simple plan on what my case was based upon. I even used legal words I'd picked up on from Hollywood, like "on the grounds of..." and I had the word "reasonable" written down in my statement twice. I was planning on keeping the result and damage of the accident out of the conversation. In fact, I was hoping that the ticketing police officer wouldn't show up and the judge would dismiss it on a technicality.

Maybe I should have brought up the lack of a "speedy trial." 3.75 years is a pretty long time to hear nothing. I believe I received the letter announcing my court date on or after February 9th, so I had a month at best to prepare. That was kind of weird. Granted, I only spent about 30 minutes (at best) preparing for this trial. I was kind of expecting it to be a crowded room, with a bunch of disgruntled people that had written bad checks, gotten traffic tickets, been evicted or what have you -- like the last time I was there. Not even close. This was the real deal, and I entered the court nervous, but trying my best not to let my nerves throw me off or inhibit me in what I needed to do.

I apologize for not describing this more eloquently. I think this is really a better story than I'm making it out to be, I think. Anyway, it was so surreal, I kept finding myself tempted to fold one leg over the other in a relaxed position, just to listen and take it all in. I kept myself from doing that, of course, because I realized that this sort of body language would hinder my chances of winning. I was seriously thinking about how cool (but stupid) it would be to whip out my camera phone and videotape some of this for posterity. That would not have flown in this situation.

Having to face the ticketing officer was one obstacle I had not anticipated. I figured, 'Four years...who's going to remember that?' Part of me felt guilty, too, knowing that this officer and this attorney was spending part of his valuable day on this court case.

While the deputy did not act entirely as if he was on the side of the prosecuter, his testimony was damaging towards me. He described the accident aftermath well, stating that the car had rolled. I don't feel that this helped my case, because any time a car rolls it must be going a fair amount of speed. One of the reasons why I probably did not come across as persuasive as I'd hope to was because I wasn't convinced myself of my innocence.

I understood the principle that, if you run into the rear portion of another vehicle, by default you are going to be held responsible. In my case, I wanted to argue that it was reasonable to assume that I had no choice in my situation other than what I did. The car in front of me peeled away, revealing a stopped Suburban turning right, while I was at highway speed (between 55 and 60 mph), only about 40 feet away. I looked in my side mirror and saw a car in the left lane. I determined that I did not have enough time to stop. I turned into the driveway before the other car did, hoping that I would either beat the car into the driveway or that it would see me and not make the turn. As I was finishing up the turn, the Suburban was in front of me at an angle. I glanced into its passenger front door and we both went off the driveway into the ditch. Because my wheel was turned full right from the turn, when my vehicle landed, it first hit a tilted wheel, giving it no "leg" to land on, so I rolled over immediately one time. The Suburban blew its right front tire in the process, too. There was a family inside from Houston that was visiting Hutto Baptist Church to watch a play their relatives were in. A young girl in the family started crying and I faced the grim truth that I could have easily injured one of these people. At the time, I thought I had done about everything possible I could do to avoid the collision.

If I had a do-over, I would have slammed on the brakes. Unbeknownst to me at the time, anti-lock brakes can really bring a fast-moving car to a quick stop. I grew up driving in the 70s and, for a long time, drove a 65 Mustang. These older cars would skid if you slammed on the brakes. That sort of knowledge is what formed my instincts. I was impressed that the car made that sharp a turn at that high a speed; but I would have been more impressed if I would have trusted the anti-lock brakes. I still have yet to test that kind of modern braking system at high speed (because, who wants to possibly ruin or wear down a good set of tires?), but I have taught myself from reading that anti-lock brakes are a helpful tool that I should use if ever presented the opportunity.

When I was up on the witness stand, I looked at my notes and presented my case. It went something like this: "My plea is not guilty based upon the grounds that a reasonable explanation of the context and description of the accident will show that the conclusion that I failed to control my speed was unreasonable." Yeah, it was almost that stupid. If I ever have to go to court again, at least I'll better know how to act and I'll feel more comfortable and relaxed. That would have gone a long way today (that and actually preparing).

When I look back on the accident, there are things I would have done differently if I had the chance, but given the extraordinary and stressful conditions, I can't imagine many people would have done much different (turning to the left likely would have got me in a high speed collision that might've knocked me into oncoming traffic. Plowing into the car in front might've proved fatal to me and hurt the people in front. And having to stop a car going 60 in 40 feet or less in order not to hit a stationary object doesn't seem too easy.

After Deputy Kelly testified as an expert witness and the ticketing officer, I took the stand. I was cross-examined by the prosecutor. He took notes on my story and asked me what my previous car was (to cast doubt on my claim that I wasn't familiar with anti-lock brakes) and he asked me how long I lived in Hutto (so he could make a claim that I should have been familiar with cars going in and out of Hutto Baptist Church's driveway on a Sunday evening. I was able to make a final statement; and I kind of fumbled through a repeat of my earlier story, adding that this particular Sunday did not show a lot of people coming into their driveway. Then the judge stated that she was ready to render her verdict.

"Guilty." And she slammed her gavel down.

Immediately afterwards, she asked me about what I did and showed some interest in HM Magazine. We exchanged some pleasantries about Christian music and then I left to pay the fine.

And looking back on the trial, of course, there's things I wish I would have said and brought up. It's a bummer to have to pay $300 in fines. And I might get into that with another blog, but one of the bottom lines with both of these experiences is I have to move on. Get past it. Let it go. Give it to God. That would be good.

Posted by Doug Van Pelt at March 9, 2009 10:09 PM