It's a bitch when your client is found guilty and sentenced to long hard time. Your first visit is double emotional trouble, for he equates you with the only light in the dark tunnel which engulfs him. He is Jonah in the whale.
His face says it all: hopeless terror.
You must somehow rise to the occasion and give him something to hang onto.
You look into his eyes and speak as earnestly as you can. This is the bleak side of the business.
"In truth, I can only try to imagine your despair. But I have already filed your appeal to the Appeal Court and, failing that, shall bring the matter to the Supreme Judicial Court, the highest court of the state. If relief is still not ours, I shall seek federal relief via Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus and am prepared to carry the issue forward to the United States Supreme Court via Petition for Writ of Certiorari. In short, sir, I swear to you that I shall leave no legal stone unturned in my efforts to free you."
I paused, momentarily, hoping my words have delivered some degree of aid and comfort. I resumed.
"In the meantime, however, I urge you to carry on with your plans to escape."
LOVE YOUR LOVING IT.
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