This month I was unexpectedly thrown back into the fires of civilian court after being away for 25 years. To be honest, it's been scary and absolutely not what I thought I'd be doing. Before the military, I practiced in North Carolina for about 7 years. I knew the local rules, the judges, the attorneys, the unwritten norms—the “playing field”—and had earned the respect of my peers.
Now, here I am again in NC, but in a different county, with different local rules, new faces, new calendars, e-filing systems (which did not exist the last time I practiced here), courthouse restrictions, and—of all things—no smoking anywhere. More than once I have found myself sitting in my car in a random parking lot, trying to make phone calls and figure out next steps, feeling a little like “Better Call Saul.” The way I re-entered this arena has been anything but neat or planned.
But I am learning—fast and hard. And thankfully, I didn't leave behind the 30 years of knowledge, experience, and grit I gained along the way. When I walk into court, I walk in as myself—lighthearted, unpretentious, and willing to ask questions. And I have been met with grace, a few smiles, and even a couple laughs.
The good news in all of this: I am helping someone who is in a desperate situation—someone who would have had no ground to stand on alone. And by absolute providence, timing, and some unexpected reconnections, this landed directly in my lap. I have humbled myself to ask for help when needed, and people have responded with kindness. I have been connected with a local attorney willing to guide me—and I am grateful.
And most importantly, I can now see that I am becoming equipped to mentor others and help them navigate situations where military and civilian justice systems overlap. When someone is a genuine victim caught between two systems, without money, resources, or support, the disadvantage is crushing. Knowing both systems—and knowing how to communicate across them—matters.
This past year, as I've worked toward launching a non-profit focused on representing crime victims and training those doing this work, the mission has become clearer and clearer:
Military-connected victims need legal help.
They need advocates who understand both sides of the justice world.
They need people who won't look away when things get complicated.
I know other NC lawyers out there care—because some of you have spoken to me directly. I'll be here to support you when you're ready to step into this work too.
Ruth's Truth:One of Ronald Reagan's Truths is also one of Ruth's Truths. “We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone.”