Divorce has an ugly face. There are always three sides to a story, yours, his, and the distorted truth. On Nov. 29, 2012, we had our first day in court.
“All rise,” and so we did with hope there would be some kind of resolution. Maybe justice would prevail and lead us to the right path of direction, since we clearly had none.
What we heard instead was all about how the judge sitting before us would be going out on retirement, off to the land of vacation after serving the bench for some odd years. There was some concern that he would not be the judge overseeing this case through. After all, he was going on holiday in about a month, so he decided there was a lot of work to do. Yes. I was amazed, shocked and frustrated that our day of justices lasted maybe nine minutes, and several hundreds of dollars in attorney fees.
Bam! A new trial date was set. Here we are six months down the road. Before heading over to the other side of town, with a few minutes in my attorney’s office to gather thoughts, the phone rings. Now just 28 minutes until court time, the defendant’s attorney just decided to make mention that he had in fact represented our newly appointed judge in his own divorce. Wow, really? Like it just happened to slip everyone’s mind? Would it be possible that this might be a conflict? Or maybe it would appear to be unethical to me?
“All rise,” and so we did with confidence, that this judge would clearly see the mistake and be forthright in his action to remove himself at this enlightened discovery of information, based upon the fact that I do not feel comfortable in this situation. At his fingertip, the good judge came prepared with the cites in which it states under the code number in different places of the big book, “I will not recuse.” Well, of course we were already in jeopardy. The law states that it is within one’s right, three days prior to trial to obtain a new judge. We, the attorneys, the good judge and I all knew what this meant now, if there was not recusal from our judge. Clearly more money to dig up out of the depths of somewhere. Let us not forget the several hundreds of dollars in attorneys’ fees, which once again did nothing to resolve anything. The gut-wrenching wasteful public court time and the $450 filing fee. Who was hurt the most I ask? The judicial system failed my daughter and myself. It took the groceries from our mouths and a few needed necessities. I guess we will wait for next time. There seems to be little hope for the long-term wife and a stay-at-home mom.