Tales from the Court room – nearly in the dock!

This is my next tale from the Court room – nearly in the dock!

It was a nice spring morning when I caused a bit of a rumpus over in Ledbury Magistrates Court.  All unexpected, unplanned with huge embarrassment and a close shave for me.

It all started with my manager taking a phone from the Magistrates Court in Ledbury.  We never used to go there, they only dealt with low level cases that never concerned us.  So it was a surprise when they called the Probation Service asking for some assistance, even more of a surprise when they asked if Mr Hook was available.  I’m told a couple of the magistrates took a shine to me and they liked the way I always did my best to help out.

The Court that day was sitting to enforce the Council’s demands for the then Community Charge but everyone knew it as the Poll Tax (this was in the early 1990s).  It was deeply unpopular and quite a few people were being sent to prison for not paying their tax.  This didn’t concern us, it wasn’t criminal and it wasn’t exactly serious.

However, the Magistrates in Ledbury had a young man in front of them and they weren’t sure what to do.  He had defaulted on his payments and they had almost satisfied themselves he had “wilfully neglected” to pay, so they could have sent him to prison straight away.  They weren’t quite sure of his mental capacity and whether he fully understood what was happening, hence asking if I could go over from Hereford (about 15 miles drive).  In the meantime, the adjourned his case and asked him to wait at the back of the Court until I arrived.

My manager reminded me to take the office jacket and tie, since I wasn’t dressed for Court that day.  I drove over and helpfully there are plenty of easy places to park in the grounds of the Court and Police station.  As I was reversing my car into a parking place I heard and enormous bang followed by a creaking noise and my car stalling.  I got out and saw I had reserved into a lamp post and it was now at 45º and still reverberating.  It was a thin metal tube, like a scaffolding bar and right in line with the side of my car – it must have been in the blind spot.

As I locked my car, I could see Mrs Battleaxe standing in the doorway of one of the Police houses and she was watching my every move.  Therefore I thought I ought to confess to the Police straight away, before I went into Court.

I explained what happened to the desk sergeant and I wondered if he was Mrs Battleaxe’s husband.  Getting out his note pad he asked me for my name, car details and then he noticed I was putting on my Probation badge,

“Oh” he said “don’t worry about that old lamp post, it’s always getting knocked over.  I’ll push it back up with my Landrover after you’ve gone.  Well that was a relief.

I went into Court and saw the young man in question.  Once the Court was ready for his case again, I stood up and explained my view of the young man in question and thanked the Court for taking the time to enquiry about his mental capacity.  He did have some learning difficulties and wasn’t used to handling money himself and didn’t understand any of the letters which the Council had been sending him.  I suggested a way forward, which the young man agreed to and so did the Magistrates.

“Just before you sit down Mr Hook, we would like to thank you for your assistance and to say we will be writing to the Senior Probation Officer to express our appreciation”.  Then the tone changed a little.  “And so, Mr Hook, perhaps we could return the favour and deal with the matter of your careless driving now?”.

I was seriously embarrassed, standing there in Court with everyone looking at me.  In fact the only person not looking at me was the journalist from the local newspaper as he was writing everything down!

The chair of the bench couldn’t keep his straight face going any longer.

“Seriously Mr Hook we are grateful to you but please be more careful, we all heard your car crash into that lamp post”.

“Court rise, all stand” said the usher in his loudest voice.

And that was that, almost.  I went over to the journalist and asked him if he was seriously going to print that story.

“Might as well” he said “nothing else anywhere as exciting or as funny as that has happened today”.

Back at the Probation Office, my manager asked me how I got on.  I explained the case and he thought I’d done well.  I also told him about the lamp post, for fear of spoiling our good reputation.

“Leave that with me, you won’t hear about that again”.

I made sure I got the next edition of the newspaper.  There was no sign of the lamp post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.