Editorial
Front Page - Friday, February 25, 2011
Under Analysis
The law of spring springs eternal
Charles S. Kramer
They say there are few laws as immutable as the laws of nature. They also say that hope springs eternal. It is thus probably not too surprising to find that our hope for Spring springs eternal.
The degree to which Americans over the age of 38 wait in earnest to hear if the groundhog has seen his shadow is staggering. (Apparently those below that age simply follow the little critter on Twitter). The love of baseball, Spring’s harbinger and symbol wrapped in its own enigma, is unmatched.
The universal dread in the Midwestern states that surfaces when Spring appears to arrive, only to be replaced by another 10 days of gray, cold and freezing rain, proves the hope through inverse inference. And yet, there is probably no better proof of the hope for Spring, then our nation’s courtrooms.
Most courthouses in America are open to the public. In today’s realm of flat screen TV’s, hand held video games, facebook addicts, and laptops, few take advantage of the free, live entertainment that the judicial process can offer. Still, among those who do flock to the courts for their daily fix of drama, there is no love lost when it comes to the winter months. Getting to the courthouse to watch the latest domestic disturbance get replayed before somber eyes is simply too difficult in the dog days of winter.
Upon the first breath of spring, however, the courthouse plaza’s become alive with a varied assortment of retired professorial types, once-great barristers, self-representing wannabes, and aspiring novelists, all waiting patiently to gain entry into the halls of justice.
Although the weathermen and almanac drafters will tell you that Spring does not arrive for a few weeks yet, those in the plaza know differently. This past Wednesday, our local county courtroom was abuzz with the return of the courtroom visitors – a scene vaguely reminiscent of the return of the swallows to Capistrano. They were there in their springtime finery, notebooks in hand, ready to observe, absorb, and enjoy.
Turns out, they were in for a treat. The case on the docket was not a mere assault and battery. It was not a murder or a scene of corporate espionage. It was no boring business dispute, or accountancy malpractice endeavor.
Instead, the lead case on the Court’s docket was a petition for injunctive relief, asking the Court to order, ironically enough, Thomas Spreeng to prevent a newly formed pool of water on his property from remaining.
Apparently winter runoff had created a pond of sorts, which had grown in size and location, until it reached some more permanent runoff tributaries which were now keeping the watery cistern permanently full. As a result, various wildlife had begun to visit its banks, much to the dismay of the neighbors.
The suit, brought by three neighboring land owners, claim that animal traffic across their adjoining land was destroying crops and farmland, and the attractive water nuisance had to go.
The case being one for injunction, there was no jury. However, the degree of anger and disgust evidenced by the litigants on all sides provided the visiting galley with enough entertainment. During a break in the action, it was clear that routing sides had developed, with approximately half the visitors wanting the water and its furry friends to remain, while the rest thought the price of having the deer was too dear.
Eventually, after six hours of evidence, the judge announced her ruling from the bench. The injunction request was denied. Spreeng’s spring would spring eternal. And so it goes.
© 2011 under analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Charles Kramer is a principal of the St Louis Missouri law firm, Riezman Berger PC. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent to the Levison Group c/o this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via email to comments@levgroup.com
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