MY BIG FAT TEXAS HEARING

This week I traveled to Midland with my boss for a hearing involving a lot of parties, a lot of lawyers, and a lot of money.

Feel the Energy

Midland, population approximately 170,000, is Texas’s 24th most populous city.  It’s located in the Permian Basin in the West Texas plains.  The view from the plane as we neared Midland left no doubt that this is oil and gas country:

The city rises up out of the flat landscape:

Once there, before getting down to the business of preparing for the next day’s hearing, we got a recommendation for lunch and headed to Abuelo’s (there are numerous locations around Texas).

The interior was cheery, with its sunny courtyard:Chips and queso, followed by fajitas, rice, and beans (all very good) provided ample fuel (feel the energy!) for an afternoon of plowing through the reams of paper filed by the parties in preparation for the hearing the next morning:

Our client arranged for us to stay in furnished corporate apartments (we each had our own — whew!), which were very comfortable and provided a perfect workspace:

There were a few surprises waiting for us:

My client must think I am more fun than I actually am

And a well-stocked fridge:

So thoughtful, and much appreciated 

There was a pumpjack right outside the complex — the first time I’d ever been that close to one:

We worked all afternoon and into the early evening preparing for the hearing.  After researching and writing about the key legal issue for almost a year, it was exciting/nerve-wracking to think about actually having the judge decide it.

We headed out bright and early the next morning for the hearing.

The hearing was held in Stanton, the county seat of Martin County.

Fortunately, the judge is not one of the “old sore heads.”

The Martin County Courthouse is not a grand old Texas courthouse, although there were two previous courthouses that would have qualified.  The present courthouse was built in 1975, and is a modern, concrete building, with colonnades:

On the front lawn is a pergola made from elements of the 1908 courthouse, the first of the three courthouses:

The Old Martin County Jail is next to the courthouse:

Outside the courthouse was a water tower, where buzzards had gathered — not sure if it was a gesture of solidarity with the many lawyers inside, or if they sensed something was about to go down.

The modest interior of the courthouse had a midcentury vibe (at least that’s what they call it at the estate sales I go to):

The circular courtroom reminded me a lot of the Nueces County Courthouse courtroom we had a trial in, with its vaguely “Close Encounters” ceiling:That’s my boss, sitting there by himself, waiting for the hearing to start.  On the one side of this lawsuit is my client, represented by my firm, and on the other side is approximately 140 defendants represented by a platoon of law firms.  We were seriously outnumbered — I joked that I was afraid the courtroom might tip over with all those lawyers on the other side.  In fact, at the start of the hearing, as the defendants’ side filled up, this is what our side looked like:

Eventually, though, our side filled up with representatives from our client’s company, interested parties, and onlookers. Honestly, it felt a lot like a wedding as everyone drifted in and milled about before the hearing — all dressed up, making polite chit chat, taking their seat on the bride’s side or the groom’s side.  Except there were no passed hors d’oeuvres,  no buffet, no dancing.  Well, maybe a little dancing, as the lawyers for each side kinda dipped and swayed as they passionately argued.

My boss did great, as usual, and I was glad he was the one arguing against all those lawyers on the other side instead of me.  The judge was attentive, but didn’t show his hand — I think if you asked any of the lawyers on either side they’d say it went well.  He promised he’d read everything and rule soon.  Until then, the proverbial jury is still out . . . .

UPDATE:  The judge ruled in our favor.  🙂

Everyone at the courthouse was nice.  The court clerk came by and introduced herself, telling us to let her know if we need anything.  The judge took off his robe (I was going to say disrobed, but it sounded inappropriate) and came down from the bench to mingle with the attorneys after the hearing.  And this really warmed my heart — I went to take a drink from the water fountain during a break (what was I thinking — everyone knows you can get Covid from drinking fountains, right?), and the stream of water arced up about two feet and landed on the floor about two feet away from the fountain.  Oops, clean up on aisle two.  I stood there pouting, and a woman next to me, one of the onlookers — I don’t know who she was or which side she was aligned with — said it was probably for the best, because really, we shouldn’t be drinking from public fountains.  I told her what I really wanted was a soda from the vending machine, but it only took coins, and the smallest thing I had was a $20 bill (first world problem, I know).  A few minutes later she tapped me on the shoulder and handed me 3 quarters.  I was stunned/touched by her thoughtfulness — and so happy to have a Diet Dr. Pepper.  If by chance you read this, thank you kind stranger.  🙂

WEST TEXAS LEGAL TRAVEL

Earlier this summer I got to travel with my boss to west Texas for oral argument in an appeal in which I drafted the brief.  I was especially excited for this trip because I’d never been to this part of the state.  The court we were appearing before usually sits in El Paso, but on this occasion, the justices apparently decided that they might enjoy a trip too, and argument was held in one of the counties they serve.

The journey began with a flight to Midland, which is located in the oil-rich Permian Basin, and is home to Texas’s top oil and gas producers.  As we approached Midland, the view out the airplane window was different than anything I’d seen before:

aerial view

As my boss explained to me, the tan squares are well pads, and the blue rectangles are fracking fluid and retention ponds.

From Midland we had to drive 170 miles to our hotel in Marathon, Texas.  Leaving Midland we passed a sobering sign of the times — oil rigs sitting idly, waiting to be put into service:

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It wasn’t too long before the scenery started to change, and Interstate 20 got infinitely more interesting the closer we got to Big Bend:

Yucca were in bloom everywhere, and rose up like candle flames across the landscape:

yucca

Although I thought the drive might be tedious, it wasn’t.  We drove along, chatting, slightly hypnotized by the landscape.  At one point we realized that we had probably passed our exit.  Sure enough, we had overshot it — by 80 miles!   This meant that we had to turn around and drive another 80 miles back to where we were supposed to turn off. And so our 170-mile road trip turned into 300-something miles.  If I had been traveling with one of the partners from my last job (which I hated), I would have considered jumping out the window at this point.  But my boss and I thought it was kind of hilarious.  Driving 100 mph, it didn’t take us too long to get back to where we were supposed to be.

There were two things I learned about survival on this stretch of highway.  First — fill up your tank, use the restroom, and buy a drink before you get on it,  because there are no rest stops, no signs screaming to hold it because there’s a Buc-ee’s ahead, no gas stations, no nothing. Just miles and miles of desert highway with very few cars traveling it. Second, slow down for buzzards.  In and around Houston, I’ve seen plenty of buzzards — turkey vultures, to be precise — circling overhead and in fields, but never sitting on the roadways due to the amount of traffic.  On the wide open and not heavily traveled road, however, buzzards feasting on roadkill was a common sight.  But buzzards are either stupid, fearless, or sneaky, and these big birds will wait until you are almost upon them before they take off — often right smack into your car — and have been known to shatter windshields and dent vehicles.  They will also scare the crap out of you when they do this.

We stayed at the historic Gage Hotel in Marathon.

marathon

The main building was built in 1927.

The newer Los Portales area, where we stayed, is made up of 20 pueblo-style rooms surrounding a courtyard.

The hotel was charming, with lots of areas to sit for a spell:

And a few reminders that you’re in west Texas:

The White Buffalo Bar at the hotel serves some great cocktails:

People come from all over to eat at the hotel’s upscale 12 Gage restaurant:

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As I’ve mentioned before, one of the biggest perks of business travel, for me, is having a room to myself:

Can you spot what’s missing in the picture of my room?  Here’s a clue:

Jasper and Maisy

The next morning we headed out bright and early to Alpine for oral argument.  Alpine is located in Brewster County, population approximately 9,200, which is the largest county by area in Texas, and is more than three times the size of Delaware.

The Brewster County Courthouse, was built in 1887 in the American Second Empire style.

The WWII Howitzer on the front lawn was obtained by the Brewster County Commissioners Court, all the members of which at the time were WWII veterans, to serve as a monument to American heroes:

The courtroom was not paneled in the dark mahogany-stained wood I’m so used to, but was done in a lighter, brighter, more friendly shade:

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The proceedings were very different from those I’ve been to in other courts.  Usually, the justices don’t come out until it’s time for argument and then it’s all business, after which they quickly retreat to chambers.  Here, however, in this quaint west Texas town, the justices were milling about before arguments began, without their robes, visiting with the lawyers and courtroom personnel.  It was really nice.  The courtroom only had seating for a single judge, but this did not faze the justices — they just pulled up three chairs and happily squished together behind the bench.  Someone ran downstairs and hauled up a podium for the lawyers to use as they addressed the court.  I guess it was a treat for the Brewster County court personnel to have the court of appeals visiting, as many of them came to watch the three arguments taking place that morning.

Oral argument went well, and as usual, my boss did great, expertly fielding the justices’ questions, and arguing in his typically animated style.  The panel listened attentively, and we left hopeful — as we always do — that  we would prevail.  We won’t know the outcome, however, for quite some time.  UPDATE:  We won.

The trip was a fun and interesting break from my usual routine, and I very much appreciated that I got to go along, although I doubt my boss will ever trust my navigation skills again. I’ll definitely be looking forward to more Texas business travels. 😊