Before you ever open the file, the defense has filed its first brief. It is printed at the top of the police report, and it is one word long: accident.
An accident is a thing that happens, not a thing someone does. No actor. No choice. Nobody chose it, so nobody owes for it.
The report says accident. The chart says accident. Your own client says accident, about the afternoon a man looked at his phone and took her spine. Nobody hears the word as an argument. That is why it works.
Entry 001 called negligent a shrug. Accident is worse. A shrug at least has shoulders.
A tractor trailer does not wander into a lane. A machine guard does not walk off by itself. Someone skipped the inspection, sent the tired driver back out, let the repair wait until the quarter closed. The word is a costume. Under it, a decision.
The other edge. Some things are accidents. Ice. A deer. A part no inspection would have caught. Argue that a real accident was a decision and the jury will feel you reaching, and reaching is the one thing a jury never forgives.
So do not fight the word out loud. You cannot beat the dictionary in open court. Strike it from your own paper instead. Petition, letters, deposition, opening. Say the crash. Say what he did: ran the light, skipped the walkaround. They will say accident forty times. You will say what happened forty times. The jury will not rule on the word. They will start using one of them.
One word. It is an accident until somebody makes them say who did it.
