Prosecutors Don’t Need Law Licenses and Other Fun Things I Learned in Arkansas
You Can’t Make This Up
A law license is a fundamental requirement for any prosecutor. After all, prosecutors must act as guardians of the Constitution, representing the people. However, in Arkansas, that’s not always the case.
Before diving into the story of how a prosecutor deceived the government for over a decade into believing she was a licensed attorney, let’s first examine the challenges faced by this defendant.
I travel the country defending doctors. I've tried cases in many states and have represented physicians in numerous federal courts.
In this particular case, after diligently searching for a crime to charge a Texarkana physician with, the DEA ultimately settled on drug dealing charges. The charges stemmed from the doctor’s treatment of a paraplegic patient who suffered from such severe pain that he had contemplated suicide, and a veteran who had endured a broken back and years of treatment by the VA. Despite the DEA’s efforts, their undercover agent was unsuccessful in obtaining a prescription for controlled substances from the doctor. This was largely because the doctor conducted thorough reviews of patient charts, performed comprehensive physical exams, and rotated opiates to manage the risk of medication.
When the prosecutors finished cherry-picking cases, nine charges were filed, with four going to trial. These charges involved four patients out of thousands treated by the doctor throughout his exemplary medical career.
One of the patients was a former prison guard who had severe back injuries and an amputated finger. After being pulled over for a DUI, he was detained and denied his medication. His cries for help were ignored, and he was later found dead in his cell. An autopsy revealed that he died from a "widowmaker," an 80% blockage in his artery. Despite the fact that no expert testified that opiates caused his death six hours later in the jail cell, the prosecutor still secured an indictment against the doctor.
As I explained to the Federal Judge from the Eastern District of Arkansas, and have previously explained to the Supreme Court of the United States, we are far removed from the days of United States v. Moore. Moore was the first physician convicted under Nixon’s Controlled Substances Act in 1975. Back then, you had to actually be a drug pusher to be convicted as one. Now, all it takes is deviating from the expectations of a government expert witness, whose standard of practice exists solely in their own mind—and nowhere else. If you do that, you might receive a sentence harsher than that of George Jung.
I'm growing increasingly dismayed by the lack of logic in our laws and the bureaucratic malice embedded in our justice system, regulations, and guidelines. It’s as if these rules were scribbled on the lint in some agency administrator’s pocket. Campaign promises often succumb to the allure of bureaucratic privilege and the siren song of cabinet appointments. Yet, oppressive regulations never shrink—they only grow, tangling like ivy that must be kept in check.
Consider this:
Doctors are routinely subjected to sentence enhancements for "abuse of a position of trust." At the same time, our supposedly "uber-trusting" healthcare environment allows prosecutors to order raids, seizures, interrogations, and detentions of healthcare professionals before ever seeking a review by another health professional. That review, when it eventually happens, hinges on the ambiguous standard of “legitimate medical purpose.” What does that even mean? As one of the nation’s foremost experts on the subject, I can honestly say—I have no idea.
Once the government achieves this high threshold for a career-crushing indictment, a multi-year case ensues. Property is seized, witnesses are concealed, and right before trial, an “expert report” magically emerges, typically penned by one of the usual suspects.
You know the names: King, Rubenstein, Munzing, Thomas—experts who eloquently collect hundreds of thousands of dollars (Tim King alone rakes in $3.3 million) to sit on the witness stand and perform like never before. It’s great being an expert when no one cares what you’re saying, as long as you’re saying it well.
Inconsistent urine drug screen?
Convict.
Family member reports a possible medication interaction or addiction?
Convict.
Dose too high?
Convict.
Patient a former victim of sexual assault?
Convict.
This is the reality Anesthesiologist Tim King operates in.
These experts construct an Eiffel Tower of “guidance documents,” allowing the government to carry the defendant to the top and see if he flies. He won’t. The practice of medicine is not as neat and orderly as we might hope. Trusting medicine to guidelines is like expecting your Etsy project to look exactly like the picture. The art and science of medicine cannot be reduced to a predictable algorithm.
Our frontline pain management providers make life-and-death decisions every day—decisions that should be scrutinized by those truly responsible for protecting the health, safety, and welfare of the people. Unfortunately, this responsibility isn’t adequately provided for by our federal government, as enshrined in the Constitution.
And this is our system of laws, ladies and gentlemen: statutes so vague and broad that criminality hinges on subjective standards. This way, prosecutors don’t have to prove that a defendant knew their conduct was wrongful before locking them up.
You might accuse me of clickbait.
You came here to read about a prosecutor who practiced law without a license, and instead, you got a Spike Lee monologue about the state of our healthcare system. I apologize. Let’s get to it. But first, movie time:
My client—a military man, father, and devoted physician—had a prior run-in with the law. I say “run-in” because he carries a felony conviction despite being actually innocent. For those unfamiliar, the Supreme Court plays a unique game called gatekeeping. Generally, you get two free tickets to justice: your trial, direct appeals, and a 2255 habeas corpus proceeding. Any more than that, and your chances of review are slim—even if you’re actually innocent.
I’m not kidding.
In 2023, SCOTUS decided Jones v. Hendrix, determining that “Congress has chosen finality over error correction.”
Imagine any other area of life where finality trumps accuracy. The plane landed—not safely—but it did, in fact, hit the ground.
After a long FOIA battle, my client obtained a report that firmly established an affirmative defense. The government had kept this report hidden for over a decade. A judge ordered the release of this evidence, and 120 days later, my client was charged with a new offense—by the same office.
This new offense was pieced together by second-guessing the doctor’s prescribing decisions for severely injured and disabled patients.
To make matters worse, the federal prosecutor in the original case—the one with the hidden evidence—lacked the most basic credential required to practice my profession: a law license.
Disbelievers, click here —-> Kentucky Supreme Court Opinion.
I’ll bet you’re thinking that if a federal prosecutor practiced without a law license, major news outlets would cover the fallout. People would be fired, convictions overturned, and surely, the perpetrator who defrauded the Department of Justice would face…well…justice.
Nope. Not the kind of justice she wanted her victims to face.
While the Department of Justice was investigating her in 2001, she continued filing charges against defendants. It took the DOJ a year to determine if she was licensed. In 2002, AUSA Bridges surrendered her license in Arkansas and retreated to Kentucky. Her sanction for repeatedly practicing as a public servant without a license was a two-year suspension.
In sum, we have two systems of justice.
One in which overly broad statutes are wielded by those in power to punish someone making too much noise in their FOIA search for innocence. And another that forgives and protects those in power who pervert justice through misrepresentation and deceit.
We should all be concerned until the Constitution is restored and the thrust of government power is realigned with the people’s will.