David Butler - Practicing Law Money Can't Buy

By Corey Lewis; Originally published in theAberdeen Daily World, December 18, 2000

Reprinted with permission.

Say the word "attorney" and, for some, it conjures up images of extravagant oak desks, Armani suits and Mercedes Benz's — rich living while doing the bidding of a large company or some other wealthy client.

But there is a class of attorneys that is often overlooked. They don't work for rich clients, in fact they work for the opposite — those with no money who find themselves in trouble with the law, in need of a lawyer.

Aberdeen attorney David Butler is one of those. As the City of Aberdeen's indigent defense attorney, he sees over 800 clients per year that, for one reason or another, find themselves in trouble with the law and don't have the money to hire a personal attorney.

The 40-year-old Butler is in fact a very different type of attorney. He forgoes the lure of money he could make working for a law firm to practice in a basement office of the Old World Building on South I Street downtown. His office is a modest, windowless space with only a part-time secretary and sparse dιcor. His long, well-kempt dreadlocks and long-cut beard don't fit the mold of a typical power-suited lawyer.

But Butler said he figured out long ago that he didn't want to be a typical lawyer. When he graduated form law school at the University of Oregon, Butler said he had many of the same ambitions many law students have — big money practices, high-profile career. But those types of ambitions were tempered somewhat when he realized that the atmosphere at the bigger firms didn't suit his style.

"The problem with firms is that it becomes not only a matter of legal skills, but also a matter of fitting in — socialization that I just don't have within me," Butler said.

"To a certain extent (being a public defender) comes naturally," Butler said. "When I was an undergrad, I ran a couple of volunteer programs in several different prisons and I heard a bunch of stories about guys who had really bad lawyers and go railroaded one way or another. So in that regard, it was easy."

"The people I deal with and the type of cases I deal with is the kind of stuff I heard form people growing up around me. My relative and friends, they all went through some type of police interaction."

Butler said he figured out quickly that he would rather help people deal with situations that he has seen in his life rather than dealing with people he doesn't relate to. He said as a public defender he can better understand and relate to his clients and the problems they face.

"I didn't come from a rich family. None of my relatives are rich," he said. "Toledo, Ohio is a very blue-collar town and these are the people I identify with. That's the reason this job is so easy for me is because I understand what my clients are going through — I really do. I'd rather work for myself and not have a lot of money than work for somebody I didn't like and be rich."

Butler started his career in public defense with the City of Seattle working with some of the heaviest case loads in the state. The stress, he said, was enormous.

"I left for lunch one day and I never came back," he said. "The reason why was that I cared a little too much. You can't put your heart into every case mentally and physically the way I did when I was in Seattle. You really do have to care like it's your own, like it's your life on the line. But, there's a point where you have to separate your life and your work."

"Most (public defenders) get burned out because it's tiring," he added. "It's emotionally and physically draining."

After leaving Seattle, Butler moved out to the coast to work as the public defender for the Quinault Tribe in 1987. He decided to move his practice to Aberdeen after being award the public defense contract for this year.

As a public defender, Butler sees a lot of the unseen, less desirable elements of society in his clients and cases — drug dependence, domestic violence, alcohol abuse. On top of that, all of his clients are too poor to afford a personal lawyer, and many, he said, are trapped in various patterns that often land them in jail.

"A lot of people have mental, social and family problems," he said. "A lot of clients tend to be victims of abuse when they were young and that's why they have the chronic problems they have now. Sometimes it's just really sad, and those cases can be difficult."

But, he said his main objective is not to look at or judge a client's personal situation, but rather to ensure they get a fair trial and proper legal representation, something he said not all public defenders provide.

"I think some people have difficulty dealing with clients when they are public defenders," he said. "I think a lot of times they don't identify enough with the clients. But they don't respect the clients and what the clients are going through."

"I think the main thing I try to do is give somebody their dignity," he added. "The fact that somebody is poor does not mean that they should be treated with less dignity than somebody with money. I think what people want at the end of the day more than anything else is to be treated with dignity, to feel that their case has been presented with the appropriate vigor, and that the appropriate arguments have been made. That's all they want."

While many lawyers judge their success by winning or losing a case, Butler cannot afford that luxury. A win, he said, can come from something as simple as preventing somebody from going to jail so they can continue going to work, or getting a fine reduced to a level that a client can afford.

"I tell people my job is to keep people walking," Butler said. "At the very bottom line, you want to keep people out of jail as much as possible. But more than that, you just wan to make sure people are treated with dignity. I think a lot of times, lawyers don't do that."

"I believe with all my heart that people are equal. That's what I mean about granting people their dignity. It doesn't matter if they're poor, whether their clothes are ripped and tattered, whether they're drunk, whether they're on meth. It's up to me to make sure they get a fair shake."