Jensen called me three years later, again in distress. She had taken Bowman back and he assaulted her again. After pressing charges, asking the state to drop them and then asking for him to be re-charged, Bowman was again convicted of a domestic violence crime. And again, he sent a demand letter threatening to sue Jensen. As unflattering as it is to admit, I initially felt burned and somewhat betrayed when I learned Jensen had taken Bowman back. As victims’ attorneys, we understand why domestic violence can be difficult to escape, so we’re not supposed to acknowledge feelings of disappointment with our clients when they reengage with their abusers. Fear and shame often prevent people from leaving, as does love, or at least something that feels like love. The abusers are often highly intelligent and skilled manipulators who know how to keep their hold. Jensen going back to Bowman of course had nothing to do with me or the quality of my legal work and I felt guilty for even thinking about myself as I saw her going through this. Still, there was the legitimate question of whether I was up for helping her with another round of potential litigation. Jensen offered to take out a loan to pay me by the hour, but I still had reservations about getting drawn back in. I worried that getting involved again would be too emotionally draining with all of my other commitments to balance. This time, I had two small children and a caseload full of equally emotional and complex cases. After much consternation, I decided to help Jensen find another attorney. Even as I did this, Jensen kept insisting she wanted me to represent her. She trusted me and believed I knew how Bowman’s mind works. Her efforts to convince me were somewhat successful, in that I ultimately agreed to a limited representation to send Bowman a letter threatening to sue him again, with the understanding I would not go any further in her defense than that. I also offered to work with whomever she hired to sue him, if it came to that. I had few illusions the letter would work. Bowman had never before been deterred by the idea that a jury would never believe a 12-time convicted felon over his long-suffering victim. Nonetheless, I wrote a letter telling him why he would lose and how I would prove it. And how, unlike last time, I wouldn’t stop until I obtained a judgment on the counterclaims against him that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Jensen and I held our breath awaiting a response. A couple weeks later, Bowman snuck past my office building’s security to drop off a pile of documents at my office. As I looked at his documents, I saw this was going to be a potentially messy and involved litigation. The first time Bowman sued my client, I went on the attack immediately and didn’t let up until the case was dismissed. But what if I used another tried-and-true defense strategy: ignoring the case with the hope it’ll go away. After all, he hadn’t filed the case yet. The counterclaims had plenty of time on the statute of limitations, and I knew he was busy with other ventures. What if this time I didn’t help him move the process along by educating him on the law? This would save Jensen money and limit my involvement. Jensen and I decided to maintain radio silence unless or until Bowman pressed further. A month later, neither Jensen nor I had heard anything. As more months went by and we still didn’t hear anything, I feared Jensen had decided to pay him off or worse yet, get back together with him. Almost a year later I called Jensen to see how she was doing, bracing myself for what she might say. To my delight, she told me she hadn’t heard anything from Bowman. He had apparently gotten married and had a whole new set of schemes he was running. Jensen was happy and thriving, hopeful about her life in a way I had never seen her. Although I felt bad for the new people potentially tangled in Bowman’s web, I was just so happy it wasn’t Jensen; and that it wasn’t me. I represented Jensen in the first restraining order in 2015 when I was an associate beginning my law practice in Portland. I said yes to far more cases back then and was less protective of my time and energy. Would I help defend Jensen for free in the first civil case if she walked through my door today, knowing what I know now? Probably. Would I have continued to defend her in the second civil case if the letter hadn’t (apparently) succeeded? Perhaps. Reasonable minds can differ as to how successful I was in setting boundaries in handling this worthy case, but it’s helped remind me that we are allowed to care about our clients and want to help people while caring about our own self-preservation. 27 Trial Lawyer | Fall 2024
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