In courtrooms, we like to imagine that every voice is heard, every story is considered, and every plea for fairness gets a real chance. But what happens when the person asking for relief is 82 years old, struggling with memory, and trying to navigate a system that values efficiency over humanity? This is the heart of Eugene’s experience: a man in Virginia, sentenced to ten years in prison and twenty years of probation, now years into that supervision, simply trying to ask the court for a second look.

Eugene believes many of the charges that extended his ordeal were false, or at least mishandled. He has already served ten years on probation and is seeking relief in light of a change in Virginia law that now caps probation at five years. But because that law came after his sentencing, it doesn’t automatically help him. So he turned to the judge for mercy and reconsideration, carefully writing out speeches to explain his situation—only to be told, directly or indirectly, that he couldn’t fully deliver them.

This article unpacks Eugene’s story and uses it to explore a broader reality: how courts treat people seeking relief from long probation terms, why some judges resist long personal statements, and what good advocacy should look like—especially for elderly, impaired, or otherwise vulnerable defendants. We’ll walk through what happened, what should have happened, and what lessons others in similar situations can take from this.

A Man, a Sentence, and a Changing Law

Eugene lives in Virginia. His sentence: ten years of incarceration and twenty years of probation. Since then, Virginia has changed its law to allow a maximum of five years of probation.

There’s a catch: the law was enacted after his sentencing. That means the new rule doesn’t automatically reduce his probation term. Courts often treat such changes as prospective—they apply going forward, not backward. So while newer defendants may benefit, older sentences like Eugene’s remain as originally imposed unless the court chooses to act.

From Eugene’s perspective, this feels deeply unfair. He has already served a decade of probation. He reports that this probation has been “mostly for false charges” and that additional charges were added after his preliminary hearing without his attorney properly challenging them.

Whether or not every one of those claims would stand up under close legal scrutiny, the underlying theme is unmistakable: he feels misrepresented, mishandled, and trapped by a system that has evolved, but not in time for him.

Two Attempts to Be Heard—and Two Disappointments

Eugene made at least two formal attempts to seek relief from supervised probation.

The 2018 Hearing

In 2018, Eugene prepared a speech to read to the judge. This was his chance to tell his story in his own words—his background, his health, his conduct on supervision, and his reasons for believing he deserved relief.

He was denied. The court did not grant him relief from supervised probation.

We don’t have a complete transcript, but we do know that his effort to present a carefully prepared narrative did not alter the judge’s decision.

The 2025 Hearing

Years later, he tried again. This time, he wrote an even more “powerful” three‑page speech. But his own lawyer told him that the different judge assigned to this hearing would not allow such a statement to be read.

Instead of a structured, prepared narrative, the hearing became a question‑and‑answer session. That format may sound efficient, but it can be a serious problem for someone who:

  • Is 82 years old
  • Describes themselves as “senile”
  • Has difficulty memorizing and recalling detailed information

Eugene says that many important details were never mentioned. His lawyer skipped questions and changed the order, which threw off his preparation. He needed to read his answers, but he wasn’t allowed to. He believes he did “okay” in court but clearly felt that the system prevented him from presenting the full picture.

His central question is simple:

Is it common for a judge to not allow a three‑page speech to be read?

Is Blocking a Three‑Page Statement “Normal” in Court?

From a legal‑practice perspective, the answer is nuanced.

An experienced attorney explained that in his own jurisdiction, it’s not common for a judge to outright refuse such a statement—especially at a traditional sentencing hearing, where defendants are usually allowed to make a full allocution (a formal statement to the court).

But Eugene’s proceeding wasn’t a first‑time sentencing. It was a post‑sentencing, relief‑seeking hearing—a request to modify or end supervised probation. Courts often treat these hearings differently: they prefer them to be brief, focused, and limited to certain legal or factual issues.

So, is the judge’s preference for something shorter understandable? Yes.

Is that the end of the story? No.

Because law is not just about efficiency. It’s also about fairness, especially when a person’s liberty and dignity are on the line.

What Good Advocacy Should Have Looked Like

Even if a judge initially frowns at the idea of someone reading three full pages, a strong advocate doesn’t simply accept that. A competent defense lawyer, especially for an 82‑year‑old client with memory issues, should:

  1. Explain the Client’s Needs Clearly
    The lawyer could have said something like:

“Your Honor, my client is 82 years old and has significant memory difficulties. He cannot reliably testify from memory. He has prepared a written statement that he needs to read in order to fully present his position. We’re asking the court to permit him to read it into the record.”

  1. Tie the Request to Fairness and the Record
    Judges care about the record—what is preserved for potential appeals or future motions. The lawyer could have emphasized:

“This statement is important for a complete record of why he’s seeking relief. If the court denies the request, it may limit our ability to show what issues were raised.”

  1. Seek a Reasonable Compromise
    Even if the judge didn’t want three full pages, the lawyer might have asked:
  2. To allow at least a shortened version
  3. To file the full written statement into the record as an exhibit, even if not read aloud
  4. To let the client refer to notes while answering questions

The attorney commentator in the transcript was blunt: this likely should have been permitted if properly requested. He doubted the lawyer pushed hard or clearly enough.

Age, Memory, and the Right to Be Heard

Eugene repeatedly emphasized his age and cognitive struggles: “I am 82 and senile.” That’s not just a side detail; it’s a crucial factor.

Courts are supposed to make reasonable accommodations for individuals who are elderly, cognitively impaired, or otherwise limited in their ability to present information. While not every court will phrase it as a disability issue, the underlying principle is simple: you don’t treat an 82‑year‑old with memory problems the same as a 25‑year‑old with sharp recall and robust health.

Allowing him to:

  • Read a statement,
  • Use written answers,
  • Or lean on prepared notes

…is not special treatment. It’s common sense.

The attorney pointed out that, if he were the judge, he would likely have said something like:

“I’d prefer you not to read, but given your age and needs, the court will indulge you.”

That’s what judicial discretion with a human face looks like.

The Lawyer’s Role: Courage in Front of the Judge

The discussion also highlighted a broader lesson about lawyering: sometimes the attorney must have the courage to tell the judge “no.” Not disrespectfully—but firmly.

The attorney used the analogy of summary judgment in civil cases. There are times when a judge might signal, directly or indirectly, that they’d like to wrap things up quickly with a summary judgment ruling. But if the case is fact‑heavy and needs a trial, a good lawyer has to say:

“Judge, I’m very sorry, but this case cannot be resolved on summary judgment. There are too many facts that need development. We need a trial.”

Similarly, in Eugene’s case, the lawyer needed backbone:

“Judge, my client cannot present his case without this written statement. He is 82, he cannot recall all the details on the spot, and this goes to the heart of his request for relief.”

A judge might grumble—but most will ultimately allow it, or at least allow some form of it. Advocacy requires polite insistence, not passive deference.

What This Means for Others on Long Probation

Eugene’s story is specific, but the pattern is broader. Many people on long‑term supervision—particularly those with complex histories, advanced age, or cognitive limitations—face similar barriers when trying to shorten or end their probation.

Here are some practical lessons for others in similar situations:

1. Prepare a Written Statement Anyway

Even if you’re told a judge “won’t like it,” write it:

  • It helps organize your thoughts.
  • It can be filed as a written submission or exhibit.
  • It serves as a record of what you tried to present.

2. Ask Your Lawyer to Make a Clear, On‑Record Request

Don’t assume your lawyer pushed as hard as possible. Ask them to explicitly:

  • Request permission for you to read your statement.
  • Explain your age, health, and memory issues.
  • Ask that the statement be accepted into the record, even if not fully read.

3. Emphasize Facts, Not Just Feelings

Judges respond to:

  • Concrete conduct on probation (compliance, employment, treatment, community ties)
  • Health issues and age
  • Changes in law or policy

Your narrative should include your humanity, but it must also present facts that justify relief.

4. Consider Support from Family or Advocates

Sometimes written letters from family, treatment providers, or community members can support your request for early termination of probation. They can help tell the parts of your story you might forget under pressure.

Conclusion: Procedure vs. Humanity

Eugene’s question—“Is it common for a judge to not allow a three‑page speech to be read?”—opens a window into a larger tension. Courts must manage time and procedure. But they also hold immense power over real lives, especially the lives of people whose age and frailty make the system’s rigidity feel even harsher.

It may be procedurally unsurprising that a judge didn’t welcome a three‑page speech in a post‑sentencing hearing. But it is substantively troubling if the result was that an elderly man, struggling with memory, could not fully present his case for relief.

The law is not just rules and timelines. It’s also advocacy—and advocacy depends on attorneys willing to clearly ask for what fairness requires, even when they suspect the judge might “frown on it.”

Actionable Takeaways

  1. Insist on being fully heard. If you’re on long‑term probation, prepare a written statement and ask your lawyer to get it into the record.

  2. Make your needs explicit. Age, health, and memory issues matter. Tell your lawyer—and ask them to tell the court.

  3. Expect courage from counsel. A good lawyer doesn’t just predict what a judge wants; they respectfully push for what you need.