She did not hide it when a patrol vehicle passed outside.
Voss's attorney made my visit to Randolph County part of the defense narrative.
He said I arrived with prejudgment, an interest in making the sheriff look guilty, and a reason to turn an ordinary interaction into a federal case.
The allegation traveled widely because it contained a real issue beneath an unsupported conclusion.
I should not have tried to inform my judicial consideration through a private visit connected to pending applications.
I had not announced an investigation at the diner, asked Voss to approach me, or done anything that supplied the missing basis for the cuff.
Both parts required an honest answer.
Through the appropriate judicial process, I disclosed the visit, accepted reassignment and recusal, and cooperated with questions about my conduct. My colleagues did not have to pretend I made a sound choice in order to oppose what the sheriff did.
The federal case proceeded before judges who were not me.
My own attorney reminded me of that boundary whenever anger tempted me to speak as though I could settle a disputed point by declaring it clear.
“You are a witness,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then let the other witnesses remain witnesses too. You cannot carry all their cases inside your answer.”
It was good advice and unpleasant to receive.
During one preparation session, I began explaining what I believed happened to several earlier complainants. My attorney stopped me and asked which of those events I personally witnessed. None. I had read materials in a professional capacity before the conflicts arose, and later heard public evidence, but that did not make those experiences mine to narrate from a witness chair. I wrote the distinction beside my preparation notes. The trial needed the people who lived those events, not a judge borrowing their accounts to make her own seem larger.
I had spent years asking the questions. Now I prepared to answer them, including questions whose purpose I understood and did not like.
We reviewed the diner sequence.
What did I say before the cuff?
What could I remember of Voss's first movements?
Did I strike him?
Did I attempt to flee?
Did I identify myself as a judge immediately?
I answered no to the last question and explained the point at which the position became part of the verified exchange at the station.
My attorney asked whether giving the title sooner might have changed the sheriff's behavior.
“Yes. It might have.”
“Can you say that without agreeing that his behavior was otherwise justified?”
“Yes.”
The distinction became central to the case.
A sheriff could not defend an unsupported arrest by saying the person failed to announce a status that would have made him behave differently.
Still, I knew the defense would ask.
I prepared to answer without making the witness chair into a second bench.
Meanwhile, investigators examined the earlier cases in the dossier. Some complaints were supported by strong records. Others needed more work. A few allegations could not be established on the surviving material.
The prosecutors did not ask me which ones I wanted included.
They assessed the evidence and filed charges against Voss and others where they believed the law and facts supported them.
The counts involving my detention addressed the conduct of that afternoon. The financial and earlier civil-rights allegations rested on separate sources.
No one was entitled to use my occupation as a replacement for proof.
Voss appeared in court wearing a suit rather than his uniform.
The judge advised him of his rights and the terms governing release while the case proceeded. He had counsel and the opportunity to challenge the allegations.
Some people called that treatment too generous.
I did not join them.
What he denied me was not a reason to deny it to him.
The work was to make the rules apply even when personal satisfaction urged a different result.
That evening, I returned to my own docket, stripped of the related matters. The first case had nothing to do with Randolph County, and the parties deserved a judge who could keep it that way.
I read the file twice.
When I felt my concentration slipping, I took a recess rather than mistake persistence for ability.
My wrist still ached at unexpected moments. The sound of a handcuff closing on television made me stop reaching for the remote.
The effects were not a public argument I could win.