What Prosecuting Major Crimes Taught Me About Building a Case

For more than two decades, I had the privilege and responsibility of serving as a Deputy District Attorney in Washington County. Much of that time was spent handling serious felony cases and serving on the Major Crimes Team. Those cases were complex, emotional, and often life changing for everyone involved. They required long hours, careful judgment, and a deep respect for the law.

When I transitioned into private practice and began representing clients in criminal defense and personal injury matters, people asked me what I carried with me from my years as a prosecutor. The answer is simple. Prosecuting major crimes taught me how to build a case the right way. That foundation shapes how I practice law today.

Start With the Facts, Not the Theory

One of the most important lessons I learned early on is that you do not start with a conclusion. You start with the facts.

In major crimes cases, emotions can run high. There is pressure from the community. There are grieving families. There is media attention. But none of that replaces the need for solid evidence. As a prosecutor, my job was to evaluate what could be proven in court beyond a reasonable doubt. That meant reviewing reports carefully, questioning assumptions, and sometimes slowing an investigation down to make sure we had it right.

Building a case starts with understanding exactly what happened, or at least what can be established through credible evidence. That discipline stays with me today. Whether I am defending someone accused of a crime or representing an injured client, I begin by digging into the facts without rushing to judgment.

Details Matter More Than Drama

Television makes trials look dramatic. Real cases are built on details.

In serious felony prosecutions, small pieces of evidence often carried enormous weight. A timestamp. A phone record. A witness statement that seemed minor at first glance. Building a strong case required patience and the willingness to examine every detail.

I learned that consistency matters. If a timeline does not line up, jurors notice. If a witness changes their story, jurors notice. If physical evidence contradicts testimony, jurors notice. Building a case means anticipating those questions before they arise and addressing them directly.

Now, in private practice, that same attention to detail guides how I prepare. I look for gaps. I look for weaknesses. I look for the questions a jury will inevitably ask. You cannot fix problems you refuse to see.

Credibility Is Everything

In major crimes cases, credibility is the foundation of success. Jurors need to believe the attorneys in front of them. They need to believe the witnesses. They need to believe that what they are hearing is honest and complete.

As a prosecutor, I learned that overreaching can destroy credibility. If you promise more than the evidence delivers, you lose trust. If you ignore weaknesses instead of acknowledging them, you lose trust. Once credibility is gone, it is almost impossible to get back.

That lesson is just as important in defense work. My role now is different, but the principle is the same. I do not exaggerate. I do not rely on theatrics. I focus on presenting clear, grounded arguments that respect the intelligence of the jury. Credibility wins more cases than volume ever will.

Preparation Is Non Negotiable

Major crimes cases demand preparation at the highest level. There are often thousands of pages of reports, multiple expert witnesses, and complicated forensic evidence. There is no shortcut to mastering that material.

I spent countless hours preparing witnesses, reviewing evidence, and thinking through how a jury might respond to each piece of testimony. Preparation meant understanding not only my own case, but also anticipating the defense strategy.

That mindset has carried over directly into my work today. When I defend someone accused of a serious crime, I approach the case with the same intensity I once brought as a prosecutor. I ask myself how the state will build its argument. I evaluate where the weaknesses may lie. I prepare for every reasonable scenario.

Preparation is not glamorous, but it is the backbone of effective trial work.

Respect the Weight of the Decision

Prosecuting major crimes also taught me something about humility. These cases are not about winning arguments. They are about real people and real consequences.

When you stand in a courtroom asking a jury to convict someone of a serious offense, you feel the weight of that responsibility. The burden of proof is high for a reason. Our system demands certainty before a person’s freedom is taken away.

Now that I represent individuals facing those same stakes, I carry that understanding with me. I know how seriously charging decisions are made. I know how prosecutors evaluate evidence. That insight allows me to guide my clients realistically and strategically.

Building a case is not about attacking the other side blindly. It is about understanding the full picture and responding thoughtfully.

The System Works When the Work Is Done Right

After more than twenty five years in the courtroom, I believe deeply in the legal system. It is not perfect, but it functions best when lawyers on both sides are prepared, disciplined, and honest.

Prosecuting major crimes taught me that strong cases are not built on emotion or assumption. They are built on evidence, careful reasoning, and respect for the process. That lesson shapes everything I do at McKey Law today.

Whether I am defending a client accused of a serious crime or helping someone seek compensation after an injury, the approach is the same. Start with the facts. Examine every detail. Protect credibility. Prepare thoroughly. Respect the weight of the decision.

Those principles guided me as a prosecutor. They guide me now. And they are the reason I believe that careful, disciplined case building remains the most important work any trial lawyer can do.