©2006 The Chestnut Hill Local

Cross-examining life of Hill ‘Renaissance Man’
by LEN LEAR

David and daughter Michaela when she was two-and-a-half. (She will be 14 next week.)

Every newspaper, regardless of size, receives calls from time to time from people in the community who say they would like to write for it. I had an editor at the now-defunct Philadelphia Journal in the late ‘70s who insisted editors should never waste time with such wannabes. “They’re never any good,” he insisted. “If you try to be kind to them, you’re just wasting your time and theirs. It’s best to let them down gently right away and be done with it.”

If I shared that view of the now-retired editor, the Local would have never run the brilliantly insightful book reviews of David Cross, now 40, who contacted the paper about six years ago asking to write some articles. At the time Cross was an attorney with the Philadelphia Public Defender’s Office and a Mt. Airy resident. (He has since moved to Erdenheim, then to Lafayette Hill.)

I told Cross to proceed, and I am glad I did. I always find his reviews readable, even compelling. I am not a fan of be-bop jazz and have a difficult time listening to more than 10 minutes of even the legends like Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk, but when Cross writes about them, I am always transfixed because he writes poignantly about their humanity in addition to their musical genius.

But even more fascinating to me is Cross’ own biography. He grew up in a suburb of Washington, D.C. His dad, Sam Cross, was an economist with the U.S. Treasury Department and vice-president of the New York Federal Reserve. He now teaches international economics at Georgetown University. David’s mom, Norma Sigler Cross, is a housewife. He has three siblings, none of whom lives in the Delaware Valley.

(Cross’ wife, Zeta, was a reporter for the Rockbridge Daily Press in Virginia and worked on stories almost right up to the moment their daughter, Michaela Stone Cross, was born on July 12, 1992.)

Cross attended the Berklee School of Music in Boston for two years, where he played the saxophone, practiced five hours a day and developed a love for jazz. He has also seen Bob Dylan perform live more than 100 times. Today Cross teaches a jazz course at Rutgers University and is writing a biography of the late jazz musician Art Pepper, thanks to a grant from the Benny Carter Foundation. “I went to Los Angeles to talk to Pepper’s wife,” said David, “and I went to his high school and the prison where he spent a lot of time.”

Cross also graduated from Washington & Lee University Law School in Lexington, Virginia. (“It’s not easy being a Renaissance man,” he insists.) A friend of his from law school who lived in Wikles Barre asked Cross to go to Wilkes Barre and start a law firm with him. David did just that and was there from 1993 to 1995. “The only way they make money in Wilkes Barre is from a tragedy,” he said, “like Hurricane Agnes and a flood every now and then. They have the worst Public Defenders’ Office in America. The District Attorney’s Office and Public Defenders’ Office actually work together, which is highly unusual.”

Cross’ most memorable case in Wilkes Barre was his representation of a man who had been convicted of theft. He had previously burglarized the very lawyer (a public defender) who defended him. “I represented him in his lawsuit against the Public Defenders’ Office for ineffective counsel. His lawyer had failed to file an ‘alibi notice,’ which he was required to do.

“I won the case, but my client fled the prison he was in because of an old conviction. I filed a notice that he should be released, and a prison guard decided on his own to let the guy walk out. They caught the guy and brought him back to prison, where he stayed for one week. Then they released him again. That was my first big victory. He (the client) did not pay me, which did not surprise me. I wanted the experience.

“Then the whole county would not deal with me because I had sued their favorite public defender. There was a gentlemen’s agreement that they do not sue for ineffective counsel.”

When David wore out his welcome in Wilkes Barre, he decided to “go somewhere with lots of crime, so I came to Philly, and I’ve been busy ever since ... I actually went to law school because I was bad in math on the SATs. I had no good reason to go to law school. I hated the classes, but I loved the book, Anatomy of a Murder, and because of that, I wanted to do nothing but trials.”

Cross hates TV procedural cop shows like Law and Order because they are “so unrealistic. The most realistic courtroom movie I have ever seen was My Cousin Vinny. That was just like the courts in Roanoke, Virginia, where I did some jury trials when I was a student. I prosecuted five cases there, and they were all found guilty because everyone is guilty in Roanoke. The judge will say, ‘You’re a liar. I knew your pappy, and he was a liar. I knew your pappy’s pappy, and he was also a liar.’”

After his student experiences, however, Cross never wanted to be a prosecutor again because “it’s dull to be a prosecutor. All of the fun in trying cases is with the defense. You get to come up with a theory (as to why the client should be acquitted). There’s a lot of flair, fun, drama and challenge.”

According to David, Philadelphia is nirvana for defense attorneys because “this city has the best juries in America. Juries here do not automatically believe you just because you’re a cop or a judge. So many people who live here have been lied to by cops that they treat cops just like everybody else. They do not assume cops are telling the truth.

“Blacks in Philadelphia are more likely to be lied to by cops than whites, so they make more skeptical jurors. Some black men, for example, are always being pulled over while driving; I have never been pulled over. My clients are pulled over for everything, maybe for being in the ‘wrong’ neighborhood. If you’re white, you’re basically only pulled over if you’re in a drug area. When you’re picking a jury, you naturally think of those things.”

Is there an ethical dilemma in defending a person who has committed horrendous, violent acts against innocent victims? “I have never felt an ethical dilemma,” answered Cross. “After all, if a person comes into a hospital with a disease that he contracted from raping a child, they still treat him. It’s my part of the system.”

Cross left the Public Defenders’ Office last year, although he still accepts some freelance court appointments. His last case was by far the one that garnered the most press coverage. It involved 13 girls from St. Maria Goretti High School in South Philadelphia. The girls told police that a young man named Rudy Susando had “flashed” them on the street, so they jumped on him and attacked him with their fists. Rudy, a chef, was arrested and charged with public indecency.

The 13 “victims” were given an award by then-Mayor Ed Rendell and then-City Council president John Street. They were hailed as heroes in the press

and appeared on Good Morning America. Susando, who had never been arrested and who never tried to touch any of the girls, was held in jail for one year. He insisted that his zipper had gotten stuck and that his penis had popped out accidentally when he unjammed the zipper.

Susando was tried in Municipal Court and found guilty. Cross appealed the case to Common Pleas Court, where Susando was tried again. This time there was a mistrial. He was tried again nine months ago, and thanks to a vigorous defense by Cross, he was acquitted.

“That’s why Philadelphia juries are so great,” said David. “Rudy is very religious and hard-working, not at all the way the press portrayed him. When you get a verdict like that is when it’s really great to be a lawyer. You always have a shot with 12 people. It is possible to get justice sometimes. The government can’t just buy the jurors. Once I got the not-guilty verdict, I left the Public Defenders’ Office. I just did not see how I could surpass that case, although Rudy is still fighting to stay in America.

“When I do a jury trial, I feel alive in a way I don’t feel otherwise. Then I crash; it’s like a long cocaine binge. So I am glad I went to law school and worked for the defenders’ office. It has given me the confidence to believe I can become good at whatever I want to be good at. But it’s time for me to try other things.”

(When asked if he would consider working for a law firm, Cross snapped, “Hell, no! You could not pay me enough!”)