Two Jills of a kind

They are known simply as "the Jills."

In addition to a first name and law degrees, they share a zeal for fighting the system, an attraction to controversy and a reluctance to back down.

That combination has earned Jill Clark and Jill Waite a series of headline-making cases and a reputation as troublemakers in area courthouses.

This wee, they defended two Iowa brothers caught on videotape fighting an off-duty Minneapolis cop working security outside Hooters in Block E. Last year, they sued the city of Minneapolis on behalf of an accused double murderer and won a six-figure police brutality settlement.

They defended state Rep. Mark Olson against spousal abuse charges and argued for a father's right to spank his son before the Minnesota Supreme Court.

"What I do right now is look for places in the law where the envelope is ready to be pushed and push it," Jill Clark said. "You need people like me."

Hennepin County Attorney Mike Freeman is among those who doesn't feel that need.

"Every defendant is entitled to a vigorous defense," said Freeman. He sees members of his staff go up against the Jills regularly, and in his opinion, "too often the Jills' interpretation of zealous representation of their clients results in an obstruction of the judicial process."

Last week, their zealous representation of two Cedar Falls, Iowa, brothers resulted in a hung jury on charges they assaulted a police officer. Freeman said the county will try Tyler and Tanner McCormack again. The Jills' methods are questioned by some peers because they are known for filing voluminous motions, launching frequent objections and seeing conspiracies in rulings that go against them.

They welcome criticism

The Jills say it's their job to be "paradigm shifters," and they wouldn't be doing their jobs if they weren't attacked by the establishment.

"It doesn't bother us if we're criticized," Waite said. If you're not ticking people off, "you're not doing a good job, as far as I'm concerned."

Jill Clark has short, dark hair. Jill Waite's grayish-blonde hair brushes her shoulders. Where Clark is outgoing, Waite is slightly more reserved but just as direct.

The two came together more than a decade ago on a case involving 13 engineers who weren't paid by a startup firm. Clark brought Waite aboard because of her bankruptcy experience. Each still runs a separate law practice from her home.

About 10 years ago, both feeling burned out, they brainstormed in the basement office of Clark's Golden Valley rambler. Instead of quitting the law, they made a pact to fight injustice wherever they found it and to "vigorously represent people of color in the justice system."

The two are particularly well-known for their role in the push to get the U.S. Department of Justice to address concerns about Minneapolis police-community relations a few years ago. The resulting agreement -- an ongoing police-community committee to discuss issues -- pleased few people, including Clark. "It does nothing to affirm the changing of the culture in the department," she said.

Minneapolis activist Al Flowers has been a frequent client of Clark's, most recently in his federal free speech case against Minneapolis, which had suspended him from his cable access TV show for criticism of Council Member Don Samuels. Flowers won a mere $3 from jury, but the city was ordered to pay attorneys fees of about $50,000 to Clark.

As a black man who often fights the system, Flowers said he appreciates the Jills' willingness to argue his cases and their disregard for money. "They will fight to the end for justice," Flowers said. "Most people would say, 'Just plead guilty, we don't have time for it.'"

They're interested in the bigger picture of closing legal loopholes, said Waite, not just individual cases. "We're actually concerned about solving the problems," she said.

Taking on the chief judge

But in Twin Cities legal circles, they're also known for in-your-face tactics, such as the ethics complaint Clark filed against Hennepin County Chief District Judge Lucy Wieland. At a news conference announcing the complaint in December 2006, Clark claimed Wieland tried to "intimidate" her and prevent her from representing a black man who was the victim of police misconduct. She claimed Wieland "got physically close" to her and "threatened" her in another case. Wieland said neither incident occurred.

The complaint was dismissed, and Clark said the judge has filed a 28-count complaint against her with the Lawyers Professional Responsibility Board. (Such complaints are not public.) Clark is unbowed. "I could have taken the easy way out and just put my head down, and walked away," Clark said. "I could have compromised my own integrity by doing that."

Given that Clark disclosed the complaint, Wieland confirmed filing it. "Judges and lawyers have an obligation to report behavior that appears to be unethical or unprofessional in order to protect the integrity of the legal process, which is essential to our system of justice," she said.

Stories like this are what cause some eyes to roll when the Jills are mentioned.

Bruce Rivers, a feisty criminal defense attorney who knows Clark and said she is a competent lawyer, questions some of the battles she picks. "I'm able to make my point without destroying any political capital," he said. "I don't think a scorched-earth policy is ever a good idea."

Clark, however, said, "The problem I have with the defense bar in this jurisdiction is they think their job is to make prosecutors like them."

Sleeping with the evidence

Before she went to law school at the University of Wisconsin, Clark studied jazz music, played in bands and wrote her own songs. In 1999, she won the Minnesota State Bar Association's presidents award for her work on a depression task force -- helping lawyers cope with stress. She, however, has no such problems. "I am just bubbling with optimism," she says with a giggle.

But not necessarily about the legal system. Clark works out of her home, she said, so she can sleep with the evidence because she doesn't trust leaving it in a downtown office.

Clark says she suffers from chronic fatigue syndrome. Even so, she puts in long days and nights from her office in the corner of her house overlooking a wooded area. She is married to a man she met via a personals ad a few years ago. She said they were brought together by their mutual recovery from alcoholism.

On a recent weekend morning, Clark and Waite appeared anything but burned out in their quest for change.

Clark said they're considering a lawsuit against the Department of Justice for what they consider to be a failure to investigate systemic issues in local police departments.

"Lawsuits are the peaceful settlement of disputes," Clark said. "Would they rather have people shooting each other in the street?"

Rochelle Olson • 612-673-1747