"The Judge"

By kiki

Edit by Phil Rice

Leopoldo Sanchez, Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge, receiving an award


One Sunday night in the summer of 1958, while cruising Whittier Blvd. in East Los Angeles listening to some R&B, I saw a red light in my rearview mirror. The cops were pulling me over. For what, I didn't know. So I pulled over to the curb and waited for the Man to come and give me a ticket.

"Driver's license and car registration, please."

I handed the cop the license and registration, and as I did so, I said, "Careful with the license. Just got it back a couple of weeks ago."

"You just got it back?" the cop asked me.

"Yeah."

"Why did you just get your license back?" he asked.

"Well, my license was suspended for a while," I said.

"How long of a while?" the cop shot back at me. "Were you driving
while your license was suspended?"

"No, sir," I said.

"Are you sure? Do you have any warrants?"

"No, sir," I said again.

"Well, let's find out." So the cop returned to his black & white, got on the radio, and ran a make on me. He returned and told me to get out of the car and put my hands on the hood. Damn! Going to jail on a beautiful summer night. The only good thing was that it was on a Sunday night because we'd get to see the Judge on Monday morning.

East Los Angeles Sheriff sub-station

I was taken to the East Los Angeles Sheriff sub-station on Third Street with wrists in cuffs to spend the night. Monday morning came, and I, with a few others, was taken to the courthouse to see the Judge. Some of us were marched into Judge Leopoldo Sanchez's courtroom. Sanchez had a reputation as the most lenient Judge in E.L.A; anybody and everybody who had a case pending in the E.L.A courthouse wanted to go in front of Judge Sanchez. Lucky me, I also knew the Judge from the Olympic Auditorium as he was a big boxing fan. I would see him there every Thursday night. Now and then, I would talk to him at the Olympic Auditorium, but I never introduced myself, so he didn't really know me.

                          East Los Angeles Courthouse

Judge Sanchez started hearing cases, and after two or three more cases, he called, "Frank Baltazar, case number XXXX."

"Yes, Your Honor," I answered.

"You are charged with driving with a suspended license; how do you plea?"

"Guilty, Your Honor."

"OK, a ten-dollar fine. Can you pay the fine?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"OK, sit down," 
I sat. The Judge called the next case "Frank Baltazar, case number XXXX."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Oh, it's you again. Let's see what you are charged with this time."

"It's the same thing, Your Honor. Driving with a suspended license."

"Yes, it is, and how do you plea?"

"Guilty, Your Honor."

"I'll have to fine you twenty-five dollars on this one. But, again, can you pay the fine?"

"Yes, Your Honor," I answered again.

"OK, sit down." I sat. The Judge called his next case "Frank Baltazar case XXXX."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"You again? Same charge. How many warrants did you have?" the Judge asked me.

"Three, Your Honor. This should be the last one."

"OK, I'll find you ten dollars on the first and twenty-five on the second. I will give you a seventy-five dollar fine on the third one. Now, can you pay the three fines?"

"Your Honor, I can pay the first two now, but I can't pay the last one," I answered the Judge.

"OK, pay the thirty-five dollars by 5:00 PM today, and I'll give you three months to pay the seventy-five dollars at twenty-five dollars a month."

"Thank you, Your Honor. I can do that, but I must go home for the thirty-five dollars." So the Judge told the bailiff to let me go home to get the money. So I ran all the way home, which wasn't more than two miles from my house, got a ride with a friend back to the courthouse, paid the thirty-five dollars, put the receipt in my wallet, and then went to get my car out of the tow yard, which cost me another fifty bucks.

I then paid three payments of twenty-five a month for the next three months. I saved the receipts just in case. I ran into the Judge at the fights several times, and he asked me if I was paying the fine. "Yes, sir," I told him.

A few months later, after I had made my last payment, I got pulled over in Montebello. The cops ran a make on me, and it turned out I had a warrant with a nine-dollar bail, so I was taken to the Montebello Police department. From there, I called Connie to come and bail me out, and I told her to make sure she brought nine dollars. Then, I left the Montebello Police station with a date to see the Judge. I went to see Judge Sanchez on the date I was given. When he called my name, he was one pissed-off, Judge. "I allowed you to pay the seventy-five dollar fine in three months, and you didn't."

"But, sir! I did pay the seventy-five dollars."

"You did?"

"Yes, and I have the receipts with me."

"Give them to the bailiff." So I did, and he passed them on to the Judge. Then, after he read the receipts, he told me, "but you didn't pay the other three dollars."

"What other three dollars, Your Honor?"

"For every twenty-five dollars, you pay one dollar for processing," he told me. I told him that he had told me to pay twenty-five dollars a month, which I did, and I had the receipts to prove it. "Case dismissed," said the Judge.

"Your Honor, what about my nine dollars for the bail?"

"Oh, you'll get that back in the mail in about a month." So I got my nine dollars back about three weeks later, and Connie took it away. Said it was her money. Just can't win!.