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Al-Arian
Al-Arian judge enhances image
Many say James S. Moody Jr. holds court with patience, intelligence, calm and control - and a dry sense of humor.
By JENNIFER LIBERTO
Published December 12, 2005
TAMPA - Judge James S. Moody Jr. made Thursdays a little special for jurors during the six-month-long Sami Al-Arian trial.
Court was in session Monday through Thursday for the grueling case. On the last day of their work week, Moody often tempted jurors with sugary pick-me-ups to buoy their souls for long hours of wading through book-length transcripts and monotone English renditions of Arabic phone calls.
The weekly appearance of a tart key-lime or crunchy pecan pie pie, or Moody's personal favorite - cheese cake - was a not-so-subtle plea to jurors to return to court on Monday.
Moody knew that keeping the allegiance of his jury was key to getting through one of the biggest, longest and most controversial trials to rock the Tampa federal courthouse in decades.
"I'm sure he was trying to hang on to all the jurors to be able to reach a conclusion," said Circuit Judge William P. Levens, a longtime friend who went to law school with Moody.
With the trial over, Moody has emerged with a reputation that commands even more respect than before.
The judge exudes patience, intelligence, calm and control, not to mention a dry sense of humor, according to colleagues, attorneys and friends. He needed all those qualities to survive the Al-Arian trial.
Moody, 58, hails from a prestigious Plant City family. His father, who shared the same name, worked as a circuit court judge. Something Moody said at his father's funeral in 2001 offers insight into his upbringing and his priorities: "My dad was my Little League baseball coach, he taught me how to water ski, we went fishing and hunting, we worked in the yard and sweated together," he said. "What's really important is the time he spent with his family, not how many boards he sat on."
Dozens of business leaders and politicians in Plant City claim Moody as a friend or say they grew up with him or know his family.
"Jim Moody is just one of the guys we're all very proud of," said Michael Sparkman, former mayor of Plant City.
He's athletic and slim with ash gray hair and startling blue eyes. He plays a better golf game than Levens and fellow Circuit Court Judge Greg Holder. He also is taking dance lessons.
He has three children: two attorneys and a medical student.
He's an avid reader and a big Gators fan, since he graduated twice from University of Florida at Gainesville, first with a bachelor's in accounting and later with a law degree.
He worked at a Plant City law firm for 20 years, until he decided to run for a circuit court judge spot.
"He's a consummate professional, extremely cool and calm despite the situation," said Holder, who campaigned with Moody in 1994 when both faced competitive races for circuit judge slots.
Moody finished second in the primary in 1994, and knocked on a lot of doors to ultimately win the runoff election, friends say.
Moody served in family and civil court in Hillsborough County for five years.
One attorney said he remembered being struck by a strange calmness that pervaded the Moody courtroom during a trial involving a woman whose house had been swallowed by a sinkhole.
"It was like a graduate seminar in college. Nobody was screaming about discovery issues, everyone's voice was modulated," said Tampa attorney Bill Jung, who watched the trial as a spectator. "Nobody was late. There weren't boxes in the aisles. It was the antithesis of a trial, and I think it's because of who was there."
President Bill Clinton appointed Moody to the federal bench in 2000.
Over the years in federal court, Moody has earned a reputation for down-to-earth informality. He dons a suit instead of black robes for pretrial hearings, and he sits down with attorneys face-to-face at tables instead of looking down at them from his bench. It can be unsettling for attorneys who are new to his courtroom.
"They see this guy in a suit walk in and he just sits down," said Robert O'Neill, chief of the U.S. Attorney's Office criminal division in Tampa. "They're like: who is this attorney?"
Moody also has a good sense of humor, which came in useful during the Al-Arian trial. He told jurors to do jumping jacks to stay awake. He also once told defense attorney Linda Moreno to stomp William Moffitt's foot to wake the exhausted attorney, whenever Moody tugged on his right ear.
Once, when prosecutor Alexis Collins said she had finished arguing a technical point that had taken up some time, Moody grabbed his heart, looked at the ceiling and said, "Elizabeth, I'm coming."
Collins said, "Excuse me, your honor?"
"You never watched Redd Foxx, I guess," the judge replied.
Moody was referring to Sanford and Son , a television show from the 1970s. The star, Redd Foxx, played Fred Sanford, and would grab his chest as if having a heart attack when something was beyond belief, then look to heaven and say to his dead wife, "Elizabeth, I'm coming!"
Moody also can be quite serious and controlling of his court room.
A few federal defense attorneys said that Moody has a "frustrating" habit of saying "sustained" to quiet a defense attorney who has said something that could be considered objectionable, even if the prosecutor hadn't voiced an official objection. He's done the same to silence prosecutors, though observers say that seems to occur less often.
"He does that all the time, because he's so bright and he's thinking ahead," said Tampa attorney Stephen Crawford. "That's the one disconcerting part."
Throughout the Al-Arian case, Moody made pivotal decisions that affected the way jurors connected the dots in their deliberations.
In August 2004, Moody ruled prosecutors had to show that money raised by defendants "was intended to support new acts of violence."
Moody also allowed a jury instruction that attorneys had argued over. He agreed that simply being a member of an organization that committed crimes was not enough for a conviction. Prosecutors also had to show that defendants specifically intended to help the organization commit violent acts.
Jurors noted that throughout the trial, Moody showed sensitivity to their needs, from giving them frequent breaks to bringing them the sweets. He often sent jurors out of the room to order attorneys to "cut off" witnesses who talked too much.
"Oftentimes, he sounded like he was a juror advocate in terms of being encouraging to the lawyers to move along and to avoid unnecessarily prolonged testimony," Levens said. "I know he's a patient man, but even after a while, Job's patience gets tested."
--Times staff writer Meg Laughlin and Times researcher Cathy Wos contributed to this report.
[Last modified December 12, 2005, 04:12:11]
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