‘ Are you working at a marijuana factory?’

‘ Are you working at a marijuana factory?’

Judge Thorne searches in vain for answer to man’s many drug charges

news@theeveningtimes.com

Judge Fred Thorne was a little thin on patience for tardy defendants in West Memphis District Court last Friday.

“If the head of the Arkansas Lottery Commission office told you to be in Little Rock at 1 p.m. on Monday and he would give you a check for a million dollars, you would be there at 10 a.m., waiting for the doors to open. If you have a ticket that says be here at 8:30 a.m., BE HERE! If you aren’t here on time I CAN and WILL put you in jail,” said the judge.

A man in jail charged with public intoxication pled guilty.

“You drank quite a bit, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I drive a truck.”

“That’s not too good. $350 plus court costs.”

A man with a charge of driving on a suspended licnese pled “noloco.”

“I am set up on a time payment to cover my driving on suspended,” said the defendant.

“You haven’t paid your reinstatement fee. $395 plus court costs and two days jail.”

Another man charged with not paying his fine pled guilty.

“You had a fine of $240 and you walked off and didn’t pay a quarter.”

“He confused me. I thought I paid it when I went to the driver’s school.” “This won’t be confusing. Six days or $240.”

The next man in jail was charged with driving on suspended and possession of marijuana. He pled “Guilty, sir,” to both charges.

Judge Thorne read off numerous charges the man had had since 2004.

“Are you working at a marijuana factory?”

“No.”

“You had 24 grams. One more gram and that used to be a felony. $750 plus court charges and two days jail on the driving on suspended. $2,500 and 10 days jail on the possession charge.”

“That is the maximun he can give,” said a person in the galley.

Awoman in jail was asked, “Who do you live with?”

“My mother.”

“Here’s what we are going to do. I have assigned the public defender to you. When he gets in here, we will see what we are going to do with you. Have a seat.”

Awoman in the courtroom was called up.

“How do you plead to leaving the scene of an accident?”

“I came around the corner and I hit a mailbox.”

“Sit down! The first one in the courtroom and can’t remember the speech I gave. I’ll take care of you last.”

Aman charged with failure to yield pled guilty. He pled no contest to no insurance.

“Do you have insurance?” “Yes, sir.”

His father stood up with him and said, “When he had the accident, it caused the door to be jammed and they couldn’t get to the insurance card.”

“Do you go to school?”

“Yes. West Memphis High School.”

“What grade?”

“11th.”

“You T-boned him?

“I didn’t see him.”

“Do you realize this will make your father’s insurance higher?” “Yes.”

“Dad, I want you to make this decision. Option One is $75 plus court costs and go do driver’s school, or, Option Two is eight hours community service at the animal shelter and driver’s school.”

“We will do some community service,” said the father.

“Good. He can become a professional pooperscooper. Be back here Jan. 30 with proof you have done the community service and been to driver’s school. If you have done everything, I will take it off your record. If not, you will look good in a yellow jumpsuit.” A young woman was charged with following too close. She pled guilty.

“How old are you?”

“19.”

“What are you doing with your life?”

“I go to Christian Brothers University.”

“$45 plus court costs and driver’s school.”

A man charged with no insurance pled guilty.

“His uncle gave him the car, but he didn’t know the insurance had lapsed,” said his grandmother.

“16 hours community service. Have it done by Jan. 30, or you will look good in orange. Are you his mother?” “No, I’m his grandmother.”

“Do his parents know he is here?”

“Yes. They are working.”

“I don’t like it when the parents don’t come to court with their children. When he comes back on the 30th, I want a parent to be with him. Tell them that for me.” “I will,” said the grandmother.

A man in the courtroom was charged with no proof of insurance.

“How do you plead?” asked Judge Thorne.

“Guilty. I had to repo my own car. I had sold it, but they didn’t finish paying me.”

“Where do you work?”

“I have been a manger for two years at Burger King.”

“Which one.”

“The one here on Broadway.”

“You know I have to watch where I eat. $195 plus court costs.”

A man’s name was called out and he didn’t appear to be in court. Another man’s name was called out. When he stood up the first man also stood up.

“Both of you come on up. We’ll do the book end special.”

To the first man, “How do you plead to careless driving?”

“No contest.”

“How long have you been on that cane?”

“About five months.”

“What happened?”

“A truck was pulled to the side of the road. When I went to go around him, he turned.”

“Are you retired?”

“Yes, from the Detroit Police

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Department.”

“Be back here on Jan. 30th with a letter from your doctor saying it is OK for you to drive. If he says it is OK, I may dismiss this charge. But if he says you shouldn’t be driving, I will take your driver’s license.”

To the other man, “How do you plead to no proof of insurance?”

“No contest.”

“Do you have insurance?”

“Yes.”

“You are not 18, where is your parent?”

“My mother lives up north.”

“Who is this with you?”

“I am his cousin.”

“Who are you living with?”

“My aunts and grandma.”

“Is he running loose down here?”

“No, he is a good kid,” said the cousin.

“What kind of grades do you make?”

“All A’s. I am in the 12th grade.”

“That sounds good. I’ll dismiss the charge. I want you to continue to do good.”

Judge Fred Thorne

By the Evening Times News Staff