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Like father, like familyBy CARY DAVIS, Times Staff Writer © St. Petersburg Times published April 27, 2003
NEW PORT RICHEY - Think of the hard-charging, streetsmart prosecutor in a courtroom TV drama. That's Mike Halkitis. It's the way he refers to the accused, dozens of times every trial, as "this duh-fen-DANT," punctuating his thick Long Island accent with a stiff-armed jab of his finger. It's the way he ends his breathless questioning by strutting past the defense table and announcing, with a smile of satisfaction, "Your witness." It's his flair for the dramatic, a style that is at times brash and arrogant, at times side-splittingly funny, and always fast-talking and fast-thinking. It's all this that has earned him legendary status in west Pasco. Mike Halkitis is the quintessential bulldog prosecutor. His success can be measured by his nearly flawless conviction rate, by the killers he has sent to Death Row or to prison for life. At the same time, his power and success have fostered a public image - perhaps exaggerated - of an intimidating, unapproachable and unsympathetic man, a New York-style prosecutor with a singular focus: win at all costs. But spend some time with the 51-year-old Halkitis at home, with his wife and four kids, and you see another side. At home, he is Halkitis the husband. Halkitis the father. Halkitis the family man. He and his wife, Dolores, have four children: Mike Jr., Katie, Chris and Megan. You may have heard of them. Mike Jr., 22, was an all-conference quarterback at Ridgewood High School who has gone on to play football at Davidson College in North Carolina. Katie, 21, now a junior at the University of Tampa, still holds the county record in the pole vault. Chris, 18, a senior at Ridgewood, is an all-state basketball player. And Megan, 16, a Ridgewood junior, is a three-sport athlete and an all-conference volleyball player. What's more, all four Halkitis children have had equal success off the playing field, each ranking near the top of their class at Ridgewood. Chris, the basketball star, is the co-salutatorian at Ridgewood this year. In recent years, the Halkitis children have appeared in the pages of the Pasco Times more often than their father. "They're what you want to claim as your own," Ridgewood principal Art O'Donnell said of the Halkitis children. "What a great family." And so the Halkitis legend grows, stretching now beyond the quirks and feats of a scrappy prosecutor. Now, the name Halkitis stands for a family of superachievers. The other side of Mike Halkitis was on display on a recent night at the family's home in Golden Acres. The whole family was there, and Halkitis the Dad faded into the background. In court, nobody talks over Halkitis. At home, it seems everybody does. Halkitis tried to talk about his child-rearing philosophy. "Nobody here is that gifted or talented, we just work ...." Katie broke in and finished the thought: "We put our minds to something and we focus." "We do the most with what we have," Mike Jr. added. Halkitis, uncharacteristically, just stood there, content in his silence. He leaned against a huge display cabinet crowded with nothing but framed photographs: of his kids in athletic uniforms, in prom dresses and tuxedos. His smile said it all: pride. It had been a busy day at work. Tomorrow would be no different. But work has no place here. "Out of sight, out of mind," he said. "I don't take the job home." What makes the Halkitis family tick? The kids say it's their parents. "They do everything 100 percent," said Mike Jr. "They're gonna do whatever it takes to get the job done. They have great ethics. They're the hardest working people I know." To understand the evolution of the family, you have to go back to the 1960s, to Selden, N.Y., on Long Island. It was there, at Newfield High School, that Mike and Dolores met. They were high school sweethearts. They also were star athletes. Mike went to the University of Tennessee on a football scholarship, hoping to get some playing time as a defensive back. He left after his freshman year. It wasn't just the lack of playing time. He felt out of place in Knoxville, and he missed Dolores, who starred on the volleyball team at Marymount College just outside New York. Mike finished out his undergraduate years at Manhattan College. They married while Mike was a law student at St. John's University in New York. Dolores, who took a job as a teacher after college, put Mike through his last year of law school. They lived in New York for four years, while Mike worked first as a corporate lawyer and then as a prosecutor. But the commuting took up too much time, and New York, Mike and Dolores agreed, was not where they wanted to raise a family. In 1981 Mike took a job as a prosecutor in Pasco County. Within a year he was running the west Pasco division of the State Attorney's Office, the job he still holds today. Dolores, meanwhile, became a stay-at-home mom. She read to the kids, and made sure the family ate dinner together every night. As the kids grew older, Mike and Dolores stressed athletics, school and music. Every child had to play an instrument. The goal, they said, was to encourage the children to be well-rounded. "We didn't care what they did, as long as they did something," said Dolores, 51. "We just wanted them to enjoy themselves." And the parents were along for the ride. When the kids were younger, Saturday mornings always began with a ritual. Mike would wake the family up by blasting the college fight songs of Michigan and Notre Dame throughout the house. Mike and Dolores even coached the kids' little league teams. The Halkitis children, in turn, inherited their parents' enthusiasm for competition, their parents' drive to excel, to never give up. Mike Jr. epitomizes the qualities of all the Halkitis offspring. As a quarterback at Ridgewood, he endured one winless season after another. Not a big kid, he got pummeled every game. But he always got back up, called another play, lined up again behind center. He made all-conference. His reputation for toughness grew at Davidson. On the day before freshman classes began, he fielded a punt in practice and was clobbered by three players. The hit shattered his thighbone. Doctors feared he'd walk with a limp for the rest of his life. The past two years, he has played wide receiver at Davidson. Next year: law school. The other three kids are equally determined, said Gary Anders, the boys' basketball coach at Ridgewood and the school's former athletic director. "People can really learn a lot from these kids," said Anders. "They are dedicated. They are very focused. They are not easily distracted from their goals. "They are," Anders said, "role models." Given his legal ability and charisma, Mike Sr. could have made a lot more money in private practice. Being a government lawyer doesn't offer great pay, but it has benefits. Halkitis doesn't travel much, and aside from the occasional murder trial, he controls his schedule. "I think that's part of the reason I've never left," he said. "I like to be home. I don't like to leave my family." Plus, he said, "I really like the job. I like prosecuting." Most days he's home a little after 5 p.m. - in time for family dinner, and sometimes, grocery shopping. Nights, for the past decade, have been filled with games and practices, often requiring Mike and Dolores to split up. At least one Halkitis parent is in the stands for every game. Mike is a calm fan. And Dolores? She's all over the referees. Said Anders, the Ridgewood basketball coach: "Mrs. Halkitis can be a bulldog in the stands. Of course, that's only hearsay. But I don't think there's ever been a bad call that Dolores has missed." With money tight - and private college tuitions to pay - Dolores and Mike live modestly. Dolores is back at work, teaching reading at Schrader Elementary. Up until a few months ago, Mike drove an old Pontiac Grand Am with missing hubcaps. Now he drives a used Toyota Corolla. His clothes, well, let's just say they aren't designer. The family has a nice house, but the yard is mostly weeds. Considering what this family has achieved, who's going to fuss about a little crabgrass? "I don't raise grass," Mike said. "I raise kids." - Cary Davis covers courts in west Pasco County. He can be reached in west Pasco at 869-6236, or toll-free at 1-800-333-7505, ext. 6236. His e-mail address is cbdavis@sptimes.com
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