Judge Keeps a Tight Lid on Sensational Trial

Don’t think for a moment that anyone else has the upper hand in his courtroom. No way. Not a chance.

When the heavy glass doors to Judge Frederick A. Jones’ courtroom swing shut, there is one person in control of the proceedings, and that is the steely, square-jawed gentleman in the black robe.

For the past 19 years, Jones has presided over hundreds of civil and criminal proceedings, but none has gained the notoriety of the case now before him--the murder trial of Diana J. Haun.

The 36-year-old grocery clerk is accused of kidnapping and fatally stabbing the wife of her longtime lover, Michael Dally.

Prosecutors say the pair conspired to kill Sherri Dally, and if convicted at separate trials the lovers could be sentenced to death.

The sensational case has become the most-watched trial in recent Ventura County history, one with the potential to spin out of control amid intense media coverage and spectator interest.

But attorneys and judges say that simply won’t happen in Jones’ court.

“It will not be a three-ring circus,” said Ventura attorney Gary Jacobs, who has argued numerous cases before the 54-year-old jurist. “You couldn’t have asked for a better judge for the Dally case.”

As the general assignment judge for the Ventura County Superior Court--a more flexible assignment created for him after he was diagnosed with leukemia in 1994--Jones juggles juvenile, civil and criminal matters.

His illness, for which he says there is no known cure, has periodically pulled him away from the courthouse for a series of treatments, including chemotherapy, blood transfusions and surgery to remove his spleen.

But Jones, and attorneys who have argued cases in his courtroom, say the disease has not prevented him from handing down rulings or presiding over tough cases--including the Haun trial.

Because the case is now in full swing, Jones would say little about his current responsibilities or his illness. He did speak generally, however, about the justice system and how he views his role.

“I enjoy being in a position to make decisions,” he said one night last week in his chambers. “It is the toughest part of the job and it is the most rewarding.”

Born in Glendale, Jones grew up and was educated in Southern California. He attended Temple City High School and earned degrees in business and economics from Whittier College. He graduated from UCLA in 1967 with a law degree.

But before practicing, Jones worked for three years as a special agent for the FBI in Texas, Idaho and Utah.

He returned to California in 1970, and after interviewing with various law firms took a position in the Ventura County district attorney’s office.

As a prosecutor, Jones worked his way through the ranks by handling misdemeanor and then felony cases. In the late 1970s, he supervised felony prosecutions and for a few years held a position as a senior trial attorney.

In 1978, Jones won a seat on the Municipal Court, making him the only attorney in county history to successfully defeat a sitting judge, John Childers.

Jones was elevated to the Superior Court in 1986 by Gov. George Deukmejian.

In recent years Jones has been a utility player for the Superior Court. Unlike other judges, he does not maintain a regular inventory of cases, which leaves him open to take both civil and criminal matters.

“I really don’t have a preference,” he said. “But being able to have both is satisfying.”

Last summer, Jones was assigned the case that would come to dominate his courtroom for the next year: the People vs. Diana J. Haun.

His first contact with the case was in May 1996, not long after Sherri Dally, a 35-year-old Ventura day-care center operator and mother of two, was reported missing.

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At that time, Jones received a call from the district attorney’s office because prosecutors needed a judge to sign a search warrant. As the investigation continued, Jones signed subsequent warrants.

When charges were filed against Haun and the victim’s husband, Michael Dally, the criminal complaints landed on Jones’ desk.

Since then, he has been besieged by motions, including hotly contested requests to move the trial out of the county and to dismiss the indictments based on alleged prosecutorial misconduct.

Meanwhile, he has pushed attorneys to move the case to trial as quickly as possible, sometimes aggravating the parties involved.

At a hearing in December, for instance, Dally’s attorneys balked at an initial Feb. 3 trial date, saying they could not be ready in time since their client had only recently been indicted. They argued for a later date. They lost.

“You’re the boss,” an exasperated defense attorney Willard P. Wiksell said at the time.

“I know,” Jones replied.

Over the next six months, scenes such as that would play out before an empty courtroom as Jones handed down dozens of pretrial rulings that shaped the course of the capital murder case.

The trial date was eventually moved to June. The case was split into separate proceedings. And Jones decided a Santa Barbara jury should be bused to Ventura because of heavy local pretrial publicity.

In March, Jones ruled that one of the two special circumstance allegations should be thrown out because prosecutors erred when presenting their case to the Ventura County Grand Jury.

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In a detailed seven-page order, he concluded in part that prosecutors had misadvised the panel about the definition of a murder committed while lying in wait, thus depriving “the grand jury of sufficient knowledge of the law necessary to their deliberation and exercise of independent judgment.”

Prosecutors eventually went back to the grand jury and obtained another indictment, slipping the lying in wait allegation back into the case. But a point was made: Jones would rule his own way.

Local defense attorneys say the decision illustrates Jones’ independence.

“Sometimes with judges you have an impression that they don’t want to anger the D.A.’s office because they don’t want to get papered into civil court,” said Ventura defense attorney Timothy Quinn, who has tried at least five criminal cases before Jones in the past two years.

“With Jones, you have the impression that that prospect is not something he is concerned about,” Quinn said. “He holds both sides to the fire.”

Indeed, in the Sherri Dally case Jones has scolded both the prosecution and the defense for being unprepared at times.

In the past two weeks, he has repeatedly snapped at prosecutors for not having their witnesses on the stand and ready to go at precisely 9 a.m.

He will not tolerate, he says, the jury being asked to wait.

“He wants you to take care of things so the trial can go uninterrupted,” Quinn said. “He is not adverse, I think, to taking someone to task in front of the jury. If that humiliates them, I don’t think he is terribly concerned with that.”

It is a practice, however, that does not only apply to jury trials.

In June, Jones granted a hearing on a motion filed by Dally’s attorneys alleging prosecutorial misconduct. But when the judge asked attorney James M. Farley to call his first witness to support the allegations, Farley could not immediately produce the man. Jones exploded.

“There is no conceivable excuse or reason that that person was not available,” he roared. “When am I going to learn whether he is going to be here?”

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Last month, Jones harshly interrupted an attorney representing a newspaper while she was arguing against his sweeping gag order, which bars attorneys and court personnel from discussing any aspect of the case.

And when a few prospective jurors stepped out of line during jury selection in Santa Barbara County recently, Jones did not mince words.

“I don’t want you on this jury,” he barked at one, ordering him out of the courtroom.

But Jones is not all tough guy. His demeanor before a jury is gracious. And his dry sense of humor often lightens court proceedings.

During a hearing on the admissibility of love letters written by Dally to his jailed girlfriend, for instance, Jones concluded the morning session by turning to an 8-year-old stranger in his courtroom.

“I do have another case this morning,” Jones said with a poker face, looking straight at Deputy Public Defender Susan Olson’s son, Kevin.

Jones called his name from a make-believe docket.

“Do you want an attorney?” he asked the boy.

“No,” Kevin answered with a sheepish grin and small voice.

“Very smart,” the judge said.

Away from the courthouse, Jones indulges in literature and spends time with his family. His wife of nearly 30 years, Lana, is an elementary school teacher in Ventura. They have two sons, Travis, 23, and Braden, 22.

The judge also grows macadamia nuts at his home near Santa Paula. His office prominently features a collection of antique hotel service bells, displayed in a glass case.

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Down the hall, a room has been set aside for the jury in the Haun case--an example of his desire to keep the 12 regular and six alternate jurors from Santa Barbara County comfortable during their daily visit to Ventura.

“He treats juries better than any judge I’ve seen,” Ventura attorney Jacobs said.

It is his goal, Jones said, to have a jury walk away from a case with a better understanding of the judicial system and an appreciation for the role it plays in society.

“I feel our criminal justice system depends on having jurors--capable people--willing to perform this task,” Jones said. “And it is simply necessary to demonstrate to jurors daily how much regard we have for them.”

As far as attorneys are concerned, Jones said, “There are many qualities that make up a good trial attorney but the ones that impress me most are honesty and personal integrity. And if a person has those qualities, all of the rest simply will fall into place.”

His colleagues say it is those qualities, among others, that make him a competent and effective judge.

“He has the reputation of being scrupulously fair and absolutely in control of the environment he is in,” Superior Court Judge Steven Z. Perren said. “He is a man in complete charge and control of his courtroom.”

“I’ve known him for 20 years,” said defense attorney Richard Loy, who first encountered Jones when he was a prosecutor and Loy was a Ventura County public defender.

“Judge Jones has tremendous strength of character. He is intelligent, he calls his own shots,” he said.

“I think he is somewhat fearless,” Loy added. “There are many judges in this country who are concerned about standing up like a tall tree in the winds of public opinion. I don’t think that enters his mind.”