I don't watch true crime shows - I live inside the world that creates them.

When I resigned as an assistant district attorney in Union Parish, Louisiana, in April 2022, I never imagined how quickly my path would twist. I enjoyed the brief months of only having one job—running my civil practice. But by September, I was back working a second full-time job—as a felony public defender in Lincoln Parish. This shift wasn’t just a career change; it was a deep dive into the complexities of criminal law and family ties that run through my blood. My family’s history with law and law enforcement is rich and complicated. From my father, a former attorney turned assistant district attorney turned district judge, to my husband, brother-in-law, nephew, and several cousins who are respected law enforcement officers, the legacy is profound. However, the darkest chapter belongs to my uncle, a deputy sheriff who was murdered during a prison break in West Carroll Parish. His story haunts me and shapes how I see the law and justice every day.

This post is about how I learned to embrace the contradictions in my family and career, how shifting my mindset helped me thrive in criminal law, and why I find joy in arguing—even when I’m on the opposite side of my family.

The Weight of Family Legacy in Louisiana Crime

Growing up, law was more than a profession in my family—it was a calling. My father’s journey from attorney to assistant district attorney to district judge set a high bar. My husband, brother-in-law, nephew, and cousins serve as law enforcement officers, and their dedication to protecting our community is something I deeply respect. But the story that stays with me most is my uncle’s.

He was a deputy sheriff working his shift at the courthouse prison in Oak Grove, West Carroll Parish. I was only six months old; all I remember of him are the few pictures where he is holding me as a baby. One night, a man he considered a friend came to share a meal from the Little Freezer, my favorite childhood spot. After dinner, that “friend” grabbed a shotgun from his truck and shot my uncle in an attempt to break out several inmates. The escape was successful, and at least one other person was killed after the escape. This tragedy is a stark reminder of the dangers that come with criminal law and Louisiana crime. My dad talks about the phone call he got that night. We were living in Greenville, Mississippi, and were planning on coming back for Father's Day. We did come back in June, but it was for a funeral instead.

This personal loss shaped my understanding of justice and the risks law enforcement officers face daily. It also deepened my commitment to the law, even as I found myself switching roles from prosecutor to defender.

Another significant impact on me in my adult life is my husband. We were not together when he was involved in a shooting—when a suspect in a traffic stop pulled a firearm on my husband and his partner in an effort to shoot cops. Luckily, the bad guy missed, and the good guys didn't. This happened right here in Union Parish, Louisiana. Do not think for one second that dangers like this don't exist in small towns; they exist EVERYWHERE. When we pray for our officers to come home safely, when you hear my dad say, "thank you for what you do" at the end of every phone call with a law enforcement officer, you can trust that we absolutely mean it with every fiber of our being.

Shifting Perspectives: From Prosecutor to Public Defender

Switching from assistant district attorney to felony public defender wasn’t just a job change—it was a mental shift. Prosecutors and defenders often see the law from opposite sides, but I’ve always believed one thing: you can’t beat an argument if you don’t understand what the argument actually is. This belief made the transition easier for me.

Understanding the defense perspective gave me new insight into the complexities of criminal law. It’s not just about proving guilt or innocence; it’s about seeing the human story behind every case. This mindset helps me argue cases more effectively and with greater empathy. But don't be fooled—this life is not like Law and Order: SVU. More often than not, the arguments I am forced to recite in public make me cringe. For instance, I once had to argue that a lady who had allegedly been kidnapped and had road burn from trying to escape the vehicle—maybe that injury was from her trying to hurt herself instead, and my client was trying to save her. That really made me cringe; however, it is my constitutional duty to bring forward any argument I can to defend the client. That is the job. It is not always easy, but it is sometimes funny, like the time I had to argue that my client should be released from incarceration because his 20 previous felonies showed that he was definitely from North Louisiana and wasn't a flight risk.

One example that I found hilarious happened during a long court day in Lincoln Parish. We usually start at 9 AM and finish around 7:00 or 8:00 PM. Another attorney came in and asked me, "Please—whatever you do, do not leave the courtroom or your seat right now." So I didn't, curious but not really concerned. Until his client was brought into the room, handcuffed and shackled. Again, nothing out of the ordinary—until the Judge said, "Well, you have filed a Motion for Speedy Trial, and I don't have any available dates, so we are setting your trial with Division C, Judge Hampton." In case you haven't caught on, that is my daddy. This inmate went ballistic, screaming, "NO PLEASE GOD NO DON'T LET ME GO BEFORE THE HANGING JUDGE!" I would love to say I stayed composed, but I didn't. I absolutely lost it, but I never said who I was. I simply looked at him sitting beside me and said, "Man, I don't blame you."

Being the public defender in a family full of prosecutors and law enforcement officers is a unique position. It means I get to challenge my family’s views and start arguments just for fun. I love arguing—even when I’m wrong. It sharpens my skills and keeps me connected to the law in a way that feels alive and personal.

One last public defender story—it does come with its wins. One of the first cases I worked on when I went back to the public defender's office in 2022 was a man charged with second-degree murder for unintentionally killing his brother. His brother was an addict who had broken into my client's home while his kids were asleep. A fight ensued, resulting in the death of his brother. He had been in jail for about two years when I met him, and exactly one year after I met him in jail, he walked into my office a free man. If that sounds like the kind of cheesy, corny "hero feeling" stuff you see on TV, it feels like it too, even though we all know it is not.

The Art of Argument in Criminal Law

Arguing cases is more than just a skill—it’s an art form. Whether I’m defending a client or prosecuting a case, understanding the other side’s argument is crucial. This approach is especially important in Louisiana crime cases, where the stakes are high and the outcomes can change lives.

Here are some ways I use this philosophy in my work:

• Listening carefully to the opposing counsel’s points before responding

• Researching thoroughly to anticipate arguments and find weaknesses (no matter how much you research, you will probably still miss something)

• Staying calm and respectful even when emotions run high

• Using storytelling to connect with judges and juries on a human level

  
  

My best attorney friend in Lincoln Parish is a master at this. We often spar over cases, and I enjoy pushing my limits—even when I look ridiculous. These debates keep me sharp and remind me why I love criminal law. We recently had a jury trial against each other—he caught me off guard with a statutory finding that I had not found. Within an hour or two, I had worked myself up to being so angry that when I started my jury questioning, I went as far over the line as I could—intentionally doing so until he stopped me. Which he eventually did, telling the Judge, "Judge, I've let her get pretty far; I'm not willing to let her go further." I nodded, the Judge nodded, and we knew the game was over and we had to really do our jobs instead of jabbing each other. We laughed about that just the other day.

Finding Joy in Contradictions

Working in criminal law while surrounded by family members on the other side of the courtroom creates a unique dynamic. It’s a blend of respect, rivalry, and deep understanding. I find joy in this contradiction because it challenges me to grow and think differently.

This joy comes from:

• The thrill of debate with family who know the law inside and out

• The chance to defend those who need a voice in the criminal justice system

• The opportunity to honor my uncle’s memory by working to improve the system

• The daily challenge of balancing personal beliefs with professional duties

  
  

These contradictions keep me grounded and motivated. They remind me that law is not black and white but a complex web of stories, people, and choices. Even when you think there is no argument to be had, I guarantee you I can find one.

Embracing the Challenge Every Day

Every day in criminal law brings new challenges and opportunities to learn. Whether I’m defending a felony case or discussing Louisiana crime with my family, I carry the lessons from my past and the stories of those I’ve lost.

If you’re fascinated by true crime and the law, remember this: understanding all sides of a case is the key to justice. It’s not about winning or losing but about seeing the full picture and fighting for what’s right. Also understand—the bloody pictures, dramatic stories, and human tragedy—those do not look nearly as entertaining and cool as they do on TV. You have to remember, these are real humans with real families, and seeing the destruction that happens to them up close takes its toll on everyone who works in this career field.

My journey from prosecutor to public defender taught me that joy can be found in the contradictions of law and family. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the hardest paths lead to the most meaningful work. To be honest, I would be doing this "second" full-time job either way, prosecutor or defense—simply due to a love of the argument.

If you want to explore criminal law from a fresh perspective or just enjoy a good argument, I invite you to follow along. There’s always more to learn, and the stories are never simple.

One thing I've learned is that people—even the best of people—can end up in legally, criminally tricky situations. Usually, by the time you get to a lawyer's office, the problems are significant, and the expenses are too. Subscribe to Hampton Law Firm and get monthly attorney guidance via questions and answers, document reviews, and more. All of our subscribers also receive 25% off of full representation services as well as priority response times. Stay AHEAD of the legal game—have an attorney by your side ready to fight—but don't give them your retirement money to do it. Use our legal subscription as an affordable monthly payment to keep legal guidance, legal templates, and more ready to go whenever you need it.

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Thank you for reading my stories—trust me, I have PLENTY more to come.

Judith L. Hampton

Attorney at Law

Hampton Law Firm, LLC