Those who enjoy a good smirk tell you that when the heat was on, she was a woman who passed out in the courtroom.
The story is repeated by those who suspect that when the pressure inside the Prescott courtroom becomes unbearable, as it must, that Roslyn Moore-Silver might just pass out again.
The man who was present when it happened is a reluctant witness.
"There was a podium and usually both counsels stood with the defendant between them. Roslyn was arguing and I was waiting my turn to respond as to why the sentence should not be so severe," recalled Louis A. Arreneta, today a court commissioner but at the time of the incident an assistant federal public defender.
"All of a sudden there was a large thunk. She hit her head on the podium and passed out. I bent over her to see if I could detect a breath. For a very brief moment, I gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
Unsure of how this will look in print, Commissioner Arreneta adds, "The judge wrote to my boss that I behaved like a perfect gentleman." As a matter of fact, when Moore-Silver fainted, it had less to do with pressure than with blood sugar. But the tale keeps its shelf life because it colorfully, if facetiously, underscores a criticism of the prosecutor: She is so rigid in her approach that she will rattle if the game plan is altered.
For example, Roslyn Moore-Silver led the third prosecution of Neal Roberts, the downtown fixer linked to the homicide of reporter Don Bolles. In opening arguments, the defense no longer contested a point that had been critical in the first two trials. Nonetheless, Moore-Silver was so locked-in to arguing this issue that she proceeded to do just that, confusing the jury and finally losing the case. She was too inflexible, say her critics, to adjust to a shifting theory of defense.
And so, if Moore-Silver is subject to a certain "unconsciousness" in the face of ordinary litigation tensions, her larger-than-life antagonists in this prosecution might well trigger a coma.
So go the predictions of the spectators who've waited in hand-rubbing anticipation for this legal showdown.
In the highly competitive world of criminal attorneys, however, where an anecdote like her courtroom collapse is savored, it would be a mistake to think this decade-old chestnut sums up Roslyn Moore-Silver.
"She is one of the best-prepared lawyers that you will ever see go to trial," observed Matthew. "She is very methodical and has an excellent command of the law. She is a perfectionist."
One of her adversaries, Michael Black, described her as very bright: "In terms of pure IQ, she can put the numbers up on the board."
And from the very beginning, she has demonstrated a willingness to bust kneecaps in this case.
Shortly before opening arguments were scheduled, she filed a motion with the court that said to Gerry Spence: "Hey, you in the buckskins, you try any of your macho nonsense in my courtroom and I'll pin your ears."
On May 6, Moore-Silver filed papers asking the judge to constrain the legendary barrister from Wyoming: "The government has a heightened concern with respect to any opening or closing argument that Gerry Spence, co-counsel for defendant David William Foreman, may present."
In support of her position, Moore-Silver attached the entire transcript of both the opening and closing statements of Spence in the infamous Imelda Marcos case, noting for the court that the judge in that case sustained objections against Mr. Spence's two arguments an astounding 31 times. (Mr. Spence achieved an acquittal for his client.)
On June 19, the Prescott courthouse is packed. United States marshals screen everyone and x-ray all packages before anyone is admitted into the trial. Media from across the country have assembled in the elegant and restored building. The attorneys are tight with adrenaline.
Roslyn Moore-Silver rises to address the jury. She has an enormous flip chart mounted upon an easel with words handwritten across the pages to create lasting visual impressions with the jurors.
Moore-Silver introduces FBI supervisor Lori Bailey, who is assigned to the demeaning task of turning the pages of Moore-Silver's chart.
Agent Bailey exhibits the stoic deadpan of the field hockey captain who never saw anything funny about her sport. When Moore-Silver introduces the grim-faced Bailey to the jury as her Vanna White, the levity is humorous though certainly not in the way Moore-Silver intended.
It does not matter that Moore-Silver is no Lily Tomlin. She quickly moves past any attempt to win over the jury on a personal level. Almost immediately she begins to slash into the defendants.
"This is not a complex case," she tells the jury. "This case is about monkey wrenching, the damage and destruction of private property."
Quickly, she portrays the defendants as extremists who want an environment that they will dictate to others.
When business or government or individuals do something the defendants disapprove of, Moore-Silver tells the jury that the Earth First!ers are elitists who take the position: either you get out of our environment or we will damage and destroy your property.
