THE LAW; At the Bar
THE LAW; At the Bar
By DAVID MARGOLICK
LEAD: As 6-year-old Lisa Steinberg was beaten and subsequently died last year, her West 10th St. neighbors were too powerless or too indifferent to act. Nor had most of them ever spoken up on the many previous occasions when violence rocked the apartment of her purported parents, Joel Steinberg and Hedda
As 6-year-old Lisa Steinberg was beaten and subsequently died last year, her West 10th St. neighbors were too powerless or too indifferent to act. Nor had most of them ever spoken up on the many previous occasions when violence rocked the apartment of her purported parents, Joel Steinberg and Hedda Nussbaum.
But last week, as Mr. Steinberg went on trial for murder, one set of neighbors was deeply involved: the students and professors in the criminal law clinic at Cardozo Law School, just two blocks north of Lisa's apartment.
For almost a year the 18 students in the clinic, under the supervision of Prof. Barry Scheck, who became Ms. Nussbaum's lawyer within hours of the incident, pieced together her defense. What they unearthed has made it far less likely that she, too, will be charged in Lisa's death. At the same time, the experience gave the students an unrivaled look into the complexity of the profession they were about to enter.
Every year, more than 70 second-year Cardozo students apply to the clinic, where they hope to acquire practical skills even if they are unpaid. In screening them, Mr. Scheck, like the 13-year-old school itself, favors older, more seasoned students, for whom law is a second career.
Those working on the Nussbaum case included Andrew Farber, once associate director of the Second Stage theater company; Michael Fistel, a former newspaperman; Isaac Jaroslawicz, a former Wall Street stockbroker, and Margaret Kronenberger, once a nurse. Their common denominator was dedication, which helped them discover evidence and potential witnesses that by prosecutors, Mr. Steinberg's friends and journalists were also seeking.
From the outset, Mr. Scheck divided them into groups. The ''Joel Squad'' examined Mr. Steinberg's background, as well as rumors - persistent but unfounded - of his ties to cults dedicated to anything from Devil worship to child pornography to baby swapping. ''The History Squad'' concentrated on Ms. Nussbaum's past, drawing from family members and co-workers a portrait of her life before and after Mr. Steinberg entered it.
A ''Night of the Incident Squad'' attempted to reconstruct the events of last Nov. 2, when the police found Lisa's comatose body. They interviewed neighbors, many of whom were either uncooperative, openly hostile, or seemingly more eager to appear on television than to help Ms. Nussbaum's lawyers. And they paid a macabre visit to the Steinberg apartment, where, two weeks after Lisa's death, the goldfish still swam around their bowls and the remnants of the family's last dinner together lay mouldering in the kitchen.
Before leaving the premises, they packed 30 years' worth of writings, photographs, drawings and tape recordings into plastic garbage bags and carted them back to Cardozo, where they combed them for leads. While Mr. Scheck screened all of the letters Ms. Nussbaum wrote from the hospital to Mr. Steinberg, lest she reveal elements of her own defense, the students monitored her mail.
A press team monitored all coverage of the case. And Lawrence Vogelman, the clinic's assistant director, handled all press inquiries - on some days, as many as 240 of them. Phil Donahue and Geraldo Rivera telephoned for interviews with Ms. Nussbaum; Barbara Walters came to Cardozo to plead personally. A Life reporter plied the students with ruggelah, apparently convinced that the pastries would prove persuasive at a predominantly Jewish law school.
The most important team was the ''Hedda Psychological Task Force,'' which was to debrief Miss Nussbaum herself. Its task was daunting. Wounded both mentally and physically, and grieving simultaneously for a lost family, she was initially unable to assist in her own defense. She blamed herself for everything. More seriously, she continued not only to love Mr. Steinberg but also to worship him -believing, for instance, that his hands had magical healing powers.
Ms. Kronenberger was peculiarly suited for the task. In 10 years in New York Hospital's intensive-care unit, she had learned how to deal with the injured and maimed - lessons underlined by her work for the International Rescue Committee in refugee camps on the Cambodian and Ethiopean borders. And, more than most lawyers, she knew how to listen. Assisted by Rebecca Rothman, one of several students from New York University law school's battered women's clinic who also worked on the case, she spent nearly 100 hours with Ms. Nussbaum.
''I'm used to seeing people who were traumatized,'' said Ms. Kronenberger, who, like most of the students, has since graduated and is no longer active in the case. ''I've treated people who survived Pol Pot, or who were starving to death by the hundreds in East Africa. But even with all of this, I wasn't prepared to see a woman like Hedda.''