Issue 341
June 17, 2005

INDEX

Articles


The following article appeared on latimes.com on June 11, 2005:

 

For some, Jackson verdict is already in

Tim Rutten

Regarding Media

 

As trials of the century go, Michael Jackson's is turning out to be a pretty low-key affair.

 

There are several reasons for that:

 

Without the soap opera effect created by cameras in the courtroom, trials no longer become the subject of the nation's casual conversation, as they once did. In our wired world, the majority of Americans apparently find little entertainment value in discussing people and events they haven't seen for themselves. No eye contact, no obsession seems to be the rule in these matters.

 

The nature of the charges against the singer makes it distasteful for most people under most circumstances. There are few well-strung-together people willing to engage in a detailed, no-holds-barred discussion of child molestation — alleged or proved — even in private, let alone in a public place or social gathering. Moreover, trials involving charges of sex crimes inevitably narrow down to tests of the credibility between accuser and accused. There's no who-done-it to engage the collective imagination. That's why so much of the conversation that has attended Jackson's trial and the jury's subsequent

deliberations has been about his eccentricities, lifestyle or finances. For those so inclined, there's plenty to talk about there.

 

Finally, all this "King of Pop" stuff notwithstanding, the fact is that Jackson isn't that much of a celebrity anymore — at least not in the United States, where trials of the century long have been a popular blood sport. By Thursday, there were 2,200 members of the working press accredited to cover the events around the Santa Maria courthouse, but they came from 33 countries. These days, Jackson is an international celebrity but more or less a domestic curiosity.

 

There is one striking difference between, say, the O.J. Simpson case, which set the standard by which these events are judged, and this millennium's first trial of the century.

 

Over the last few years, an entire segment of the U.S. news media essentially has elected to pursue its commercial interests by seceding from American journalism. This group includes most of the commentator/personalities on Fox News — with the notable exception of Greta van Susteren; the prime-time segment of CNN Headline News; and, most particularly, Court TV.

 

These operations no longer feel constrained by even the minimal requirements of fairness, balance or dispassion required to practice American-style journalism. Instead, they operate as an unapologetic cheering section for the prosecution. They've never met a criminal defendant they didn't want to see slammed — Michael Jackson prominent among them.

 

No verdict; no problem.

 

We already know he's guilty. Besides, we're on the side of victims.

 

If you watched this week's coverage of the watch on the Jackson jury, you must have lost count of the number of times Nancy Grace — Court TV's harpy in chief and the dark star of Headline News — looked into the camera and, with swimming eyes and quivering lower lip, began a sentence by saying, "As a crime victim myself, I …."

 

It is impossible not to know at this point that Grace's fiancι was murdered in the course of a robbery. People are entitled to grieve as they must — unless, to gloss Wilde's defense of sexual privacy, they do it in the road and frighten the horses. Then it becomes a public matter. Here, as so often these days, we confront what has become a pornography of pain.

 

Once you obliterate the boundaries that used to delineate journalism from advocacy, all sorts of other irritating barriers fall as well. Take, for example, the customary prohibition against using your position in the news media to promote personal interests. All this last week, Grace has been using her shows to promote her new book, "Objection," published this week.

 

Every one of her shows ended with some sort of plug for it, but the apogee was reached Wednesday. That was the day the book hit the stores and Grace not only discussed her book on both her Court TV and Headline News shows, but also for a full hour on CNN's top-rated show, "Larry King Live." You can't buy that kind of publicity — unless, of course, you're engaged in the media equivalent of self-dealing.

 

Grace also feels free to tell interviewers that she dislikes all defense lawyers and writes that "the Founding Fathers set up our Constitution in a way that allows defense attorneys and defendants to literally get away with murder."

 

Take that, Jim Madison, you victim-hating swine.

 

Still, Grace is hardly alone in availing herself of the opportunities that abound when all boundaries fall and restraints are lifted. These days, Court TV and other news outlets of this sort are filled with lawyers willing to opine on the guilt of defendants whose trials they never witnessed and psychologists and psychiatrists willing to diagnose people they've never met.

 

Friday, Lisa Bloom — another in Court TV's apparently endless supply of tough blonds — told her viewers that a verdict was imminent because she was "wearing my lucky jacket." If there were doubts about what that verdict would be, they quickly were eliminated as she moved on to interview her special guest, "victims' rights attorney" Gloria Allred — who also happens to be Bloom's mother.

 

As much of the foregoing suggests, this new appendage to the news media is a fairly blunt instrument; one doesn't look to its employees for subtle thinking or expressions of higher sentiment — irony, for example.

 

But if you're somehow obliged to pay close attention, there are moments, though — unconscious, certainly — that could paste a Nancy Grace-caliber sneer to the face of a plaster saint.

 

On Friday morning, for example, as the Jackson jury's deliberations entered their 25th hour and every other source of on-air amusement flagged, Court TV presented a sort of mini-documentary on the Fatty Arbuckle case. Period black-and-white photos and a grim voice-over solemnly described how the silent-era star had been subjected to grossly biased, sensational and, in many cases, false press coverage over his alleged role in the death of a young actress following a weekend drinking party in San Francisco. In large part because of the hue and cry from the gutter press, Arbuckle suffered through two

mistrials before a jury finally acquitted him the third time around. In a note submitted as part of their verdict, the jurors felt compelled to say that the defendant had been subjected to "a great injustice" and that they had "exonerated" him because no scrap of evidence had been produced to link him to the alleged crime. (It's now thought that the victim died of complications from a botched abortion. The prosecution's chief witness turned out to be a liar and scam artist.)

 

But despite those conscientious jurors' best efforts, the documentary concluded, Arbuckle was financially ruined, his movies were banned in theaters across the country and he never really worked again.

 

"There are compelling parallels" to the Michael Jackson case, mused Court TV's anchor-at-the moment, Jack Ford.

 

"Oh yes," replied Diane Dimond, the network's correspondent on the scene in Santa Maria, "both men are 46."

 

"Fascinating parallels," chimed in another anchor, because "Fatty Arbuckle in his time was regarded as a freak of nature," just like Michael Jackson.

 

You probably could make this sort of thing up, but what's the point?

 

 

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The following article appeared on latimes.com on June 14, 2005:

 

THE JACKSON VERDICTS

Jurors Say They Stuck to the Facts, Not Feelings

Panelists say they set aside Michael Jackson's celebrity status and examined evidence. They now just want to get back to their lives.

By Stuart Pfeifer and Monte Morin

Times Staff Writers

 

SANTA MARIA, Calif. — They included a 79-year-old great-grandmother who enjoys a good game of bridge, a 21-year-old who deliberated from a wheelchair, and a 45-year-old mother of three who worked in a supermarket.

 

By their own admission in court Monday, jurors in the Michael Jackson child molestation case came from modest, anonymous backgrounds before they suddenly felt the "weight of the world's eyes" upon them when they were asked to decide the fate of one of the world's best known pop stars. It was a moment that reduced several of them to tears.

 

Poring over 98 pages of jury instructions and taking notes until their hands went numb, jurors said they examined every piece of evidence and set aside all personal feelings about Jackson and his behavior. As troubling as it was to some, jurors said they stuck purely to the facts of the case.

 

"I think that Michael Jackson probably has molested boys," juror Raymond Hultman

said. "But that doesn't make him guilty of the charges in this case."

 

While jurors issued a statement through the judge asking that they be allowed to return to "our private lives as anonymous as we came," many willingly abandoned that anonymity in the hours that followed. As the jurors piled out of a sheriff's van and headed to their own cars, an army of television network "bookers" showered them with free plane tickets, hotel rooms, meals and limousine rides if they agreed to appear on the next morning's news programs.

 

Juror Mike Stevens, 21, of Santa Maria had agreed to appear on ABC, NBC and CBS before he rolled his wheelchair through his front door.

 

But the notoriety of the case and the intense media focus was the least of their concerns during the 14-week trial, jurors said. In most cases, the jury gave reporters the slip by entering through the back of the courthouse.

 

"It really didn't bother us that much," juror Melissa Herard said of the media spectacle.

 

What the panel found far more difficult to deal with, though, were the inquiries of spouses and friends, long sleepless nights and the grueling pace of the proceedings. Jurors plugged away at the case for six hours each day, without lunch breaks. Rest came in the form of three 10-minute breaks only.

 

Jurors said they hadn't anticipated that they would come to an agreement Monday, and the weight of the decision caused some to weep in court.

 

"It was very emotional," said Herard, 42, of Lompoc, one of several jurors who sobbed as the court clerk read the acquittals. The mother of four said she was not only moved by the impact of their decision — "It's like a no-win situation for everyone in both families," she said — but also because the verdict marked the end of a close and intense relationship with her fellow jurors.

 

"I just realized that it's done and it's over, and we can now go on with our lives," Herard said.

 

In the end, Hultman and jury foreman Paul Rodriguez said, the prosecution's case never added up.

 

"We were required to look at some very specific counts in this case," Hultman, of Santa Maria, said. "One of the counts wasn't that Michael Jackson was guilty of sleeping with boys or that he was guilty of having adult material in his home."

 

Repeatedly, jurors said they were puzzled why certain evidence was presented to them at all. Such was the case with fingerprints lifted from pornographic magazines found at Neverland ranch.

 

"We went through a lot of fingerprints," Rodriguez said. "Ridges, you name it, I think we heard it all — things we've never thought about. But again, the fingerprints had a lot not to do with the case because those are adult magazines, and anyone can own them…. It doesn't prove the charge."

 

Panel members said that they found testimony from the accuser's mother unconvincing, and her manner on the stand distasteful. They particularly took issue with her snapping her fingers at the jury and insisting at one point that an image had been burned into her head.

"She said a lot of things that … came on very strong," said juror Pauline Coccoz, a 45-year-old mother of three from Santa Maria. Her view seemed to jibe with defense attorney Thomas A. Mesereau Jr.'s attempt to characterize the victim's family as opportunists with pecuniary motives.

 

Rodriguez, 63, of Santa Maria, was similarly put off by her demeanor. He recalled one moment in particular when the woman addressed the jury box and looked into his eyes and said, with a wink, "You know how our culture is." The accuser and his mother are Latino, like Rodriguez. "I thought, that's not how our culture is," Rodriguez said.

 

While testimony on Jackson's activities at his ranch might have hardened some of the jurors' opinions of the performer, others said seeing him in person helped counteract his image as a bizarre, international celebrity.

 

"He's a human," said Herard. "Watching him throughout the whole trial, I thought, he is a normal person…. It made him real in my eyes."

 

Rodriguez said viewing Jackson as a human being, not a celebrity, was an early collective decision.

 

"One of the first things we decided was that we had to look at him as just like any other individual, not just as a celebrity," Rodriguez said. "And once we got that established and we could go beyond that, we were able to deal with him just as fairly as we could with anybody else."

 

What was far more difficult to ignore was the stress of their duty, he said.

 

"My wife says I don't smile anymore," Rodriguez said. "But maybe that will come back."

 

Asked what they were looking forward to most now that the trial was over, most jurors said they were looking forward to getting some shut-eye.

 

"Sleep is a big thing," said Stevens. "I lost a lot of sleep over this, a lot of us have…. It's going to take a few days to get back to an everyday routine, but it's been worth it."

 

 

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The following article appeared on latimes.com on June 14, 2005:

 

EDITORIAL

The Trial of a Career

 

For the first time in almost two years, Michael Jackson will wake up this morning without the shadow of possible imprisonment hanging over him. Acquitted on all charges of child molestation, he should be facing the future with a song in his heart and a new CD up his sleeve.

 

Yet while the verdict was a humiliation for the Santa Barbara County district attorney, Tom Sneddon, he may live to see Jackson's downfall after all. Although he did not sway the jurors, his prosecution cast such a damning light on Jackson's unsavory lifestyle that the former king of pop's career is in danger.

 

It is not news that Jackson is weird; his bizarre behavior has been long and widely reported. His experimentation with skin pigmentation to turn white; his frequent nose surgeries; his close friendships with young boys; his dangling his son out of a hotel window — all have been featured in serious newspapers and magazines as well as those sold at supermarket checkout stands.

 

But in court there was evidence not only of Jackson's weirdness but of an unpalatable taste for the tawdry. The jury saw police videos of Jackson's bathtub, his outdoor Jacuzzi and a black briefcase stuffed with adult magazines that he kept in his bedroom. Jurors saw a desk in his office cluttered with bare-breasted dolls in sadomasochistic gear. There also was testimony that Jackson often was intoxicated in the presence of children.

 

Jackson also is facing financial ruin. If his career survives, he will have to severely curtail his spending while selling billions more records and selling out concerts well into old age to pay off the huge debts he has accumulated — not even counting his legal fees, which are surely substantial.

 

The trial revealed that he has been financing his lavish lifestyle with borrowed money. Witnesses testified that in 2003 he was $270 million in debt, was spending twice or three times his yearly income of $10 million and was being dunned by creditors.

 

If Jackson defaults on his loans when they come due in December, he could be forced to sell his most valuable asset: his 50% ownership of the catalog of publishing rights to 251 songs by the Beatles, plus songs by Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, Little Richard and others. He may even have to sell his beloved Neverland ranch.

 

Yet his finances may actually be in better shape than his reputation. After this trial, not even an acquittal may be enough to save Jackson's career.

 

 

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The following article appeared on latimes.com on June 13, 2005:

 

Spectacle Supplants Law as Focus of Jackson Trial

Celebrity cases become surefire crowd pleasers thanks to the global reach of modern media.

By Shawn Hubler

Times Staff Writer

 

The public relations experts have been tsk-ing for months now. Put it this way: Martha Stewart's people didn't let her dance on an SUV.

 

The historians say the Lindbergh baby kidnapping trial was more compelling. The media restrictions have been Watergate-esque, journalists say.

 

Legally, well, it's no O.J.; one lawyer compared it to "those paintings of dogs playing poker." Still, the experts at the TV show "Celebrity Justice" say the logistics were "even more thought-out than Scott Peterson."

 

The jury may still be out in the child-molestation case against Michael Jackson, but the verdicts on "Jacko: The Celebrity Trial" are in.

 

Ten years after the O.J. Simpson double-murder case was declared the trial of the century, trials of the century are turning out to be nearly as plentiful as musicals on Broadway — and almost as thoroughly critiqued.

 

"Domestic diva" Stewart, actor Robert Blake, Laker star Kobe Bryant, the upcoming trial of record producer Phil Spector on a murder charge, actor Russell Crowe's recent arrest after hurling a phone at a hotel employee — so much publicity has accrued in so few years to so many well-known defendants that celebrity proceedings have come to resemble a genre unto themselves.

 

The stakes may be life-or-death, the legal issues may be far-reaching. But "people don't just talk about the trial anymore; they talk about the impact of the trial, the partisans, the crowd, the ancillary issues, the paraphernalia of fame," said USC professor Leo Braudy, author of "The Frenzy of Renown: Fame and Its History."

 

Conventions have evolved: The celebrity mug shot. The celebrity heart-to-heart with the celebrity network reporter (or late-night hosts Jay Leno and David Letterman, for lesser offenses). The revolving-door legal "dream teams," the sign-toting mobs at the courthouse, the ready-for-prime-time jurors, the legal analysts. The jury consultants and publicists with their celebrity-damage-control voodoo. The good guys. The bad guys.

 

Trial-watching is an age-old entertainment, particularly with big-name cases, but the focus on the spectacle rather than the case is a function of the media age, historians and legal scholars say. Celebrity trials and their hoopla are national, even global, events that come and go far more quickly than they used to.

 

"What's changed is the magnitude," says Neal Gabler, senior fellow at the Norman Lear Center for the Study of Entertainment and Society at USC. "And the change in magnitude is because of the change in technology."

 

In the 1920s, attention focused on silent film comedian Fatty Arbuckle, charged with murdering an aspiring actress, and the Chicago White Sox, accused of throwing the World Series. The trial after the 1932 kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby was covered by radio and five newsreel companies and drew a mob of 10,000, who waited into the night for the verdict.

 

"If you look at the history of celebrity trials, they've always been the trial of the decade. But what's really relevant are the stories," Gabler said. "The fact that they're trials is almost incidental. They're stories of sex and violence and mystery and famous and beautiful people, and we love that stuff. That's why we read novels and watch 'Law & Order' and go to the movies. These are narratives."

 

By this measure, Gabler said, the Jackson trial has been less compelling than its predecessors, and not just because there are no cameras in the courtroom.

 

Jackson, 46, is accused of molesting a 13-year-old boy at his Santa Ynez Valley ranch in 2003. He has been charged with 10 felony counts and, if convicted, could face more than 20 years in prison.

 

"The sex [is] ... icky rather than exciting, and there's no one with whom to identify," Gabler said. "There's no definite good or evil. People think he's a freak, but the boy isn't sympathetic either."

 

Rather, it's the sideshow that has captured the spotlight with this trial: the SUV dance, the media, Jackson's umbrella bearers and Sgt. Pepper regalia, the blue pajama bottoms, Leno's being required, as a potential witness, to outsource the Jackson jokes in his "Tonight Show" monologue.

 

Also front and center in this trial has been the cutthroat competition for celebrity headlines.

 

Jonathan Turley, a George Washington University School of Law professor, said a study he did of the most famous trials of the 20th century found that the invention of television didn't increase the number of high-profile trials; it just heightened their coverage and shortened their half-lives.

 

"It's just easier now to inject these cases directly into the veins of the body politic," he said.

 

Demand, however, has increased exponentially for news of famous people in legal trouble as cable and the Internet have exploded, because court proceedings and celebrities are surefire audience magnets.

 

Associated Press correspondent Linda Deutsch, who has been covering high-profile trials since the Charles Manson case and who has been camped for nearly four months at the Jackson trial in Santa Maria, Calif., marveled last week at her competition: 2,000-plus credentialed reporters from 34 nations.

 

"During O.J., the only real players [besides the print media] were Court TV and CNN," she said. "Now we often have a much larger visible press at these cases: Fox and MSNBC and E! Entertainment. Shows I've never heard of. MTV."

 

A recent newspaper column and a magazine, along with sources involved in the program, have said that "Celebrity Justice," a syndicated television show launched to capitalize on the shortage of celebrity news in mainstream outlets, is slated for cancellation this fall. Though the big reason is lack of advertising — its ratings have suffered from its obscure time slots — part of the problem is also said to be that other media have begun to co-opt its franchise.

 

"Celebrity Justice" executive producer Harvey Levin declined to comment on the cancellation rumors, but he did acknowledge the effect of increased competition. "It used to be that there was nothing like us on TV," he said. "Now if you want them, you can get Jackson updates every quarter-hour."

 

Saturation, however, has engendered backlash from both celebrity defendants and judges. Since the Simpson case, for example, most judges won't allow cameras in the courtroom in high-profile cases. And repeated appeals have been filed by news organizations covering the Jackson case regarding Santa Barbara County Superior Court Judge Rodney S. Melville's decisions to withhold records that typically are open to the public and to close legal proceedings that, by precedent, are matters for open court.

 

"This case has been a nightmare from a 1st Amendment standpoint," Deutsch said. "All the search warrants have been sealed, all the pleadings, everything that would normally be open. There was even something called a decorum order; the media can only speak to each other, we can't interview spectators, we're not allowed to talk to the Jackson family. It's as if in this trial, there is a celebrity exception to freedom of the press."

 

In other realms, though, the case has dished up plenty of the usual conventions, and these cases "do have things in common," Loyola Law School professor Laurie Levenson said.

 

Including Levenson. A former federal prosecutor, she has become a go-to voice for the media on high-profile cases, though initially she was just the only unbiased observer a CBS producer was able to find in a pinch one day during the federal trial of the L.A. police officers accused in the 1991 beating of Rodney King.

 

Now opining lawyers, including novices, populate the airwaves and trawl the courthouse plaza in Santa Maria like cabbies at an international airport. Last week's lineup included a former San Francisco prosecutor who's entertaining the idea of running for district attorney, a former sheriff friend of the prosecution and a lawyer friend of Jackson's defense team, a Washington prosecutor who flies from her Seattle office to opine in the makeshift courthouse "green room," and a Connecticut prosecutor who quit when her boss wouldn't grant her a Jackson trial leave of absence. She recently got a contract

with MSNBC.

 

Nor has the Jackson case skimped on other fixtures of celebrity justice:

 

•  The dream team merry-go-round: One lawyer isn't enough. Celebrities must have teams of lawyers. Jackson has had a couple. "You have the media lawyers, the motions lawyers, the courtroom lawyers," Levenson explained. "But then after a while, you have to have the New Dream Team, because celebrities tend not to be easy clients."

 

Spector, the record producer charged with killing an actress in his Alhambra mansion, has gone through Robert L. Shapiro (who helped defend Simpson), Marcia Morrissey and Leslie Abramson (the Menendez brothers) and now is being represented by Bruce Cutler, who defended John Gotti, a mob boss.

 

Blake hired criminal defense lawyer Harland Braun, who quit when the actor insisted on being interviewed by Barbara Walters. Blake then settled on M. Gerald Schwartzbach after hiring and then splitting from Thomas A. Mesereau Jr., who took Jackson's case after the pop star parted ways with Mark Geragos, who was, at the time, also representing Peterson.

 

•  The wattage: Leno, Macaulay Culkin, George Lopez: The Jackson trial hasn't lacked for ancillary celebrities. But not all of them offered testimony wholly pleasing to the defense. And generally, says legal scholar Turley, they're not the greatest idea for a defendant.

 

"Martha Stewart brought in a parade of celebrities who sat in the courtroom and showed their support," he said, "and it made her look like some detached prima donna who lived in her own upper world."

 

•  The fans: Simpson had his demonstrators outside the courthouse. Former Hollywood madam Heidi Fleiss had the occasional Heidi girls in their "Heidi Ho" hats. Bryant had a guy who came out of the woodwork offering to kill the young woman who accused him of rape.

 

Jackson has blown them all out of the water. Fans have come from all parts of the globe, some for weeks, some for months. A Los Angeles kindergarten teacher quit her job so she could demonstrate her support for him full time. On the day of his arraignment in January, about 1,500 cheered as he danced on the roof of his SUV.

 

His fans have heckled reporters whom they view as tools of the prosecution, an act of loyalty matched by few other celebrity supporters. Court TV's Diane Dimond was besieged to the point that she got a restraining order and hired security.

 

•  The spin: Gabler believes Jackson has intentionally sought to turn the trial into a circus so the jury will see it as he does: a kangaroo court set up by a district attorney with a vendetta.

 

But Judy Leon, senior vice president of DecisionQuest, a Los Angeles-based litigation research and strategic communications firm, says it's "a mess" compared with, say, Stewart's public relations, which was so forward-thinking that she's making house arrest seem like "a good thing."

 

•  The deeper meaning: Simpson's trial spoke to race and sex and class and police corruption. Fleiss' spoke to selective enforcement in prostitution cases and to baby boomers' fears about what had become of the children they'd raised. After the Lindbergh trial, kidnapping was made a federal offense carrying the death penalty and cameras were banned from courtrooms for decades.

 

The Jackson case?

 

"Pure celebrity."

 

That's from Charles Lindner, a past president of the Los Angeles Criminal Bar Assn. who co-wrote the closing arguments for the defense in the Simpson trial and who compared the trial to those paintings of dogs playing poker.

 

"As much as I like Michael's music," he said, "this trial doesn't captivate me."

 

 

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The following article appeared on latimes.com on June 14, 2005:

 

THE JACKSON VERDICTS

Attorney's Career Has Had Plenty of High Stakes and High Pressure

Besides representing celebrities, Mesereau has volunteered in Southern death-penalty trials.

By Richard Fausset and Jean Guccione

Times Staff Writers

 

Fifteen years ago, Thomas A. Mesereau Jr. was plotting his escape from a frustrating career as a corporate litigator. One day, he shared his plan with an old law-school buddy.

 

"He said, 'I'm going to read every book by every famous criminal defense lawyer, and I'm going to become a famous criminal defense lawyer,' " recalled Dana Cole. "I just sort of rolled my eyes and said, 'Good luck.'

 

"But now, of course, he is the world's most famous criminal defense lawyer. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy."

 

No one knows whether Michael Jackson's waning career will be revived by Monday's acquittal, but it has certainly burnished the reputation of Mesereau, the pop singer's lead defense attorney.

 

The silver-haired litigator was a relative unknown even in the Los Angeles legal community until three years ago, when actor Robert Blake hired him. Now, a world audience has witnessed the attorney's decisive victory for an eccentric client whose fate at the hands of a Santa Maria jury was by no means a given.

 

"It's one of the biggest cases of the decade, and he won the case outright," said veteran criminal defense lawyer Harland W. Braun. "It looked like a difficult case, given Jackson's history and strange conduct and strange looks and everything … [but Mesereau ] was able to handle the cards he was dealt very deftly."

 

In hiring the attorney, Jackson got a lawyer familiar with high pressure and high stakes. In addition to representing celebrities, he has volunteered his services representing defendants in death-penalty cases.

 

It is a unique background that may have helped the 55-year-old New York native win the respect of Jackson and his entourage, and in turn help keep them subdued and focused during the trial.

 

"He's got all of these different factions trying to pull [Jackson] in different directions," Braun said. "Given Tom's background and all the legal work he's done with the disadvantaged, and with the African American community, that gave him the gravitas to control the defense ship."

 

Long before Jackson was ever drawn into court, Mesereau, a former Harvard boxer, gained a reputation in Southern California's black community for representing prominent figures, including former heavyweight champion Mike Tyson, and offering free legal advice to the poor.

 

It took him years before he found his calling as a criminal defense lawyer. Mesereau came from a military family, and his grandfather was disappointed when he chose Harvard over West Point for undergraduate studies.

 

Mesereau studied international relations at the London School of Economics before earning his law degree from the University of California's Hastings College of the Law in San Francisco. He did a brief stint in Washington, D.C., both on Capitol Hill and at a law firm, then tried his hand as a prosecutor in Orange County.

 

As a defense attorney, he represented former Compton Councilwoman Patricia Moore in fighting extortion and income fraud charges. She was convicted but sentenced to 33 months — 24 months less than federal prosecutors had sought — in 1997.

 

Two years later, a judge dismissed the case against another Mesereau client, Larry Carroll, a former KCBS-TV Channel 2 newscaster who had been charged with investment fraud.

 

The attorney also persuaded San Bernardino County authorities in 2001 not to file rape charges against Tyson.

 

About the same time, Mesereau began volunteering to represent defendants accused of murder and facing possible execution in Alabama and other Southern states.

 

He persuaded one jury to convict a 24-year-old mother of the lesser crime of manslaughter in the beating death of her 22-month-old daughter. He convinced another jury to acquit a homeless black man in a racially charged case of a murdered 21-year-old white woman.

 

In another case, a mentally ill man who confessed to murder during a home-invasion robbery not only escaped execution but also was made eligible for parole after just seven years in prison.

 

Although he didn't represent Blake in court during the actor's murder trial, Mesereau won an early victory when he persuaded the judge to free the former "Baretta" star while awaiting trial. After the acquittal, Blake thanked the attorney for his help.

 

It was a twist of fate that brought Mesereau and Jackson together. The singer had wanted Mesereau to represent him, but the lawyer was busy with Blake's defense. Mesereau abruptly quit the Blake case in February 2004, citing irreconcilable differences, about the same time that Jackson dismissed attorney Mark Geragos.

 

Now that Mesereau has had a turn in the limelight, he has experienced some of the unpleasantness that goes with celebrity trials — including his loss of privacy and the second-guessing from legal experts in the media who don't always know what they are talking about, said Jennifer Keller, another law-school classmate.

 

"I would say this experience has made him somewhat disdainful of the whole celebrity lawyer routine," she said. "He thinks lawyers should be lawyers and they should do things for the client, not for themselves."

 

 

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The following article appeared in nytimes.com on June 14, 2005:

14 Strikes and the Big Case of a 37-Year Career Is Out

By JOHN M. BRODER

 

SANTA MARIA, Calif., June 13 - He tried to smile. He said he had no regrets. But there was little District Attorney Thomas W. Sneddon Jr. could do to cover up the bitter disappointment of the complete and utter defeat in the biggest case he has handled in his nearly four decades as a prosecutor.

 

Mr. Sneddon, who first began investigating sexual abuse allegations against Michael Jackson 12 years ago only to be thwarted when the singer reached a $20 million settlement with his accuser, acknowledged the pain of losing such an enormous case. But he refused to second-guess the jury.

 

"I've been a prosecutor for 37 years, and for 37 years I've never quarreled with a jury's verdict, and I'm not going to do so today," he said. He grimly replied "no comment" to several questions about whether he intended to continue investigating Mr. Jackson and gave the same answer to the question of whether he believed a child molester had escaped punishment.

 

While Mr. Sneddon put on a stoic face when he met reporters, his disappointment registered in the courtroom earlier in the afternoon as the 64-year-old prosecutor slumped in his chair when it became clear that the jury was going to deliver not guilty verdicts on all 14 of the charges they considered. Mr. Sneddon later suggested that Mr. Jackson's celebrity had played a role in the acquittal. "It seems to us that that was a factor," he said, "but maybe we're just looking for explanations in the wrong places."

 

"I'm not going to look back and apologize for anything we've done," he added.

 

The prosecutor said there was no turning point in the case, but he seemed to acknowledge that the accuser and his family were less than ideal witnesses. "We don't select our victims; we don't select the family of our victims," he said. "We don't look at their pedigree. We look at what we think is right."

 

Still, the prosecution's nine-week presentation to the jury was replete with missteps and setbacks. The mother of the boy who has accused Mr. Jackson of molesting him in 2003 spent her time on the stand describing a kidnapping in a Rolls-Royce and a scheme to make her family disappear in a hot-air balloon. The accuser himself gave differing versions of how and when the molesting began.

 

Some legal experts said Mr. Sneddon should not have been surprised that his witnesses failed him. "When you bring a case that requires expenditure of such enormous financial and community resources and you are so wiped out by a verdict, it calls into question the prosecutor who brought it," said Anthony M. Glassman, a former federal prosecutor in Los Angeles.

 

"It surely could not have been a mystery that the alleged victim and his family had all the baggage they had. Those just aren't the kinds of cases that prosecutors with good judgment should be bringing."

 

But Jean Rosenbluth, another former federal prosecutor who is now a law professor at the University of Southern California, supported Mr. Sneddon's decision to pursue the case.

 

"He sincerely believes Michael Jackson is a serial pedophile," Ms. Rosenbluth said. "He had an obligation to put his evidence before a jury and let them decide. And some of those jurors may believe in their heart of hearts that Jackson is guilty but that it wasn't proven beyond a reasonable doubt."

 

It is unlikely that Mr. Sneddon will again try a case that commands the global attention of the Jackson trial. Mr. Sneddon, who is serving his sixth four-year term as district attorney, has said he will retire next year.

 

He is, say those who have worked for and against him, a tenacious and hard-nosed prosecutor. One of his nicknames is Mad Dog, because once he gets a defendant in his grip he rarely lets go. He once tried a murder defendant three times after two hung juries, finally winning a conviction that sent the killer away for life.

 

"He's persistent when he believes the case is there," said Jim Thomas, a former Santa Barbara County Sheriff who has known Mr. Sneddon for more than 20 years. "And he was sure in this case."

 

When he announced in December 2003 that he was bringing charges of child molesting against Mr. Jackson, many expressed the belief that he was driven by a vendetta that dated back a decade.

 

In 1993, Mr. Sneddon and Gil Garcetti, at the time the chief prosecutor in Los Angeles County, investigated Mr. Jackson on similar charges. Their investigation turned up several reports of Mr. Jackson sleeping with and groping boys. But their case against Mr. Jackson crumbled when the family of the main accuser reached a multimillion-dollar settlement with Mr. Jackson and refused to cooperate in any prosecution.

 

After that, Mr. Jackson wrote a song, "D.S.," about his tormenter, whom he called "Dom Sheldon," which sounded very much like "Tom Sneddon" on the track. The refrain, repeated over and over, was "Dom Sheldon is a cold man."

 

Throughout the Jackson trial, it was clear that Mr. Sneddon was offended by the superstar's behavior; he tried repeatedly to impress upon the jury that his style of life was bizarre and criminal. He portrayed Mr. Jackson's Neverland Valley Ranch as a candy-coated pedophile's lair, soaked in alcohol and stocked with pornography.

 

Mr. Sneddon and his co-counsel, Ronald J. Zonen, the chief deputy district attorney, came into the trial with an advantage over the celebrity defendant and his Los Angeles defense attorney, Thomas A. Mesereau Jr. Both residents of Santa Barbara County, they appeared to have a better feel for the jurors, most of whom came from the conservative and largely agricultural northern part of the county.

 

The few blacks in the jury pool during the jury selection process were dismissed by the prosecution, although one young black man was kept on as an alternate. Mr. Sneddon showed a certain racial tone-deafness near the end of the trial, when the actor Chris Tucker, who is black, was on the stand as a defense witness.

 

Mr. Sneddon showed a photograph of Mr. Tucker with the accuser and his family, which Mr. Tucker said he had not seen. He asked if he could have a copy.Mr. Sneddon replied, "It depends on whether you're a good boy or not." There were gasps in the courtroom, but Mr. Sneddon did not appear to comprehend what he had said.

 

Craig A. Smith, a former prosecutor in Mr. Sneddon's office who now teaches law at the Santa Barbara College of Law, said that losing such a case would not be easy for the competitive district attorney.

 

"I'm sure he will take this hard," Mr. Smith said, "but it's not going to be the end of the world. His feeling will be, We may have lost, but at least the defendant had to work for his acquittal."

 

Adam Liptak contributed reporting from New York for this article.


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