Great endings: opening statements have been made, witnesses have been examined and cross-examined, evidence has been introduced. All that remains is your summation. Use your time wisely to make a strong last impression on jurors.

Since the days of Clarence Darrow, trial lawyers have romanticized great summations. Many novelists and moviemakers consider summations the most dramatic and dynamic part of the case. Who can forget Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird or Paul Newman in The Verdict?

The myth of the summation lures us into believing that a great orator call salvage the most far-fetched case. We imagine our persuasive arguments and emotional pleas overcoming threshold and liability problems.

Perhaps we should look to sports rather than drama for a more realistic approach. Golfers often say, "Drive for show, putt for dough," reminding us that the less dramatic aspects of the game are far more important than the parts that win spectators' "oohs" and "ahhs." But great summations do not win lousy cases. You need to prepare your case in chief so that you will have something meaningful to say during your summation.

That does not mean that summation is unimportant. If you have done your job throughout the proceeding, the summation is the time to bring it all together, organize your evidence in a logical order, point out the fallacies in the defense, and empower the jurors who are on your side to argue your case. A good summation challenges the jurors to right wrongs.

If I could pass along only one tip about summations, it would be this, from the legendary trial attorney Moe Levine: Be yourself. Levine could quote scripture with the credibility of Billy Graham one day and use the logic of Clarence Darrow the next. In a case whose plaintiff was a young man named Daniel, Levine sang "Danny Boy" during his summation. Whatever Moe did, it was neither corny nor contrived; it simply fit. If I ever tried to sing a summation, the only result would be the judge's holding me in contempt.

Every trial lawyer has to be comfortable, and to reach that comfort zone, the style you use must be within your personality. I can get away with sarcasm and humor in a folksy presentation. "Borscht Belt" comedy fits me. But competent trial attorneys have told me that when they used the same anecdotes and stories, they received only blank stares. Your style must be the one you would use during a heartfelt talk with your best friend.

Proper presentation

The presentation of a summation must be consistent with the rest of the trial, and it must meet the expectations of the jury. Today's jurors are different from their counterparts of the past. They have no patience for long-winded or confusing presentations. They demand instant gratification. Here's how to do it:

Get to the point. The jury's attention span has been greatly reduced. This is the era of remote-control channel changers. Any summation longer than 30 to 45 minutes risks losing its audience. It is no accident that 30-minute sitcoms are among America's favorite entertainments. Do not waste time with thanks or detailed recitations of the list of witnesses. Get to the point, and make each point important.

Be graphic. Today's juror has been brought up in a television generation. Even network news anchors would not report a fire without an image of it appearing over their shoulders. Lawyers don't agree on whether you should review all your demonstrative evidence during your closing argument. Most exhibits, because they have been seen and discussed during trial, can he alluded to without re-presenting them, unless you have specific comments or conclusions that you did not make before. I would not replay any part of a day-in-the-life film or animation during summation; to me, that would almost imply that you think the jury didn't get it the first time.

However, you can provide graphic descriptions, anecdotes, or analogies, such as: "The herniated disc is a shock absorber. It is built like a jelly doughnut, and a herniation is a gash in the side of the doughnut that allows the jelly to ooze out and damage or stain the surrounding nerves."

In summation, the object is to create a picture from the evidence.

Be credible. The biggest problem facing any trial attorney is some jurors' preexisting attitude. It is no accident that the main character in the movie Liar Liar is a lawyer. Lawyers must use summation to overcome the lack of respect they face.

The fastest way to lose credibility is to read a summation. A few notes are OK--and perhaps recommended--but more than that is counterproductive. Relax and realize that if a point is important, you will remember it.

The summation must make your points in a logical fashion. It must also respond to your opponent's arguments or summation in an appropriate manner and, most important, motivate the jurors to act and right wrongs.

A critical part of the summation is your response to your opponent's attacks. This requires that you have listened carefully to your adversary's statements. The best way to respond is to have a flexible outline that allows you to work in your response early in the summation and then end with a cry for action. The more comfortable you are with the outline, the smoother and more convincing your argument will be.

Thank the jury. The jurors have been put out by serving on your injury. They deserve to be thanked. It should take very little time and be to the point. It is also a subtle way to make sure that your voice is under control.

You don't need notes to thank the jurors, so this is the perfect opportunity to make full eye contact with them. Their facial expressions and body language will let you know whether you are too loud or too low, or if you are standing too close and infringing on their space. Pay attention to those cues and make the appropriate adjustments.

Make a smooth transition. After your 10-second thank-you, segue immediately into the summation. You need a transition that will bring the jurors' focus back to your case and erase the defendant's summation from their minds. The transitional remark is best if it draws on a recurrent theme in the case.

If your opponent has been objecting constantly during the trial, you can tell the jury that now, during your final argument, you hope to speak without incessant interruption. Point out that you didn't interrupt your opponent's summation even though you disagreed with much of it, and express confidence that he or she will show the same control now. This has the effect of shaming the other side into curbing its interruptions.

If the judge has limited the time of summation and you have been unavoidably long-winded throughout the trial, or the case has dragged on longer than expected, you can start the summation by commenting on the judge's admonition to you to stay within a certain time frame. A pat anecdote about promises to be brief--and how despite your best intentions, they really don't mean anything--will set the stage for a great segue.

I sometimes tell a short story that humanizes my inability to control time:

   When my wife brought our daughter to
   court to watch a trial, she asked what the
   lawyers meant when they said "objection"
   and what the judge meant when he said
   "overruled." She also asked what it means
   when "Daddy takes off his watch and promises
   to take no more than 30 minutes." My
   wife answered, "Nothing. It means nothing
   at all."

If you are comfortable with humor in summation, it's a great way to set up a change in mood. When everyone is politely laughing at my little story, I apologize for wasting their time with a joke, but I explain why I did it: I wasted a few moments of my limited time by starting with a joke so I would be speaking without anger.

I tell the jury that the anecdote is my way of taking a deep breath so I don't say something in anger that I might regret. I then tell the jurors how upset I really am at the misleading statements my opponent tried to make them believe. A well-phrased transition from levity to somber business is a great way to make a point really stick.

Attack the opposition's falsehoods. Having carefully listened to the other side, you should now pick a couple of the most obvious points that are refutable and rip them apart. This is the time to make the opposition pay for any exaggeration or illogical statement. It is not the time to attack every point; the goal is to point out obvious misstatements, not to seem as if you are picking on the defense.

Defendants often claim that they were not negligent and that even if they were, the plaintiff brought about the injuries by his or her own negligence. Defendants might then say that, even so, the plaintiff's injury is not so serious that it qualifies under the no-fault statute. If the injury did qualify, defendants will claim that the plaintiff is exaggerating the injury.

This kitchen-sink approach lends itself to an analogy:

   I loved my uncle because he taught me how
   to fish. I am reminded of him because opposing
   counsel's briefcase looks like Uncle
   Ned's tackle box. That was where he kept his
   collection of lures that would fool the fish
   under various circumstances.

      The defense first tried to land you by using
   the "no negligence" lure. He claimed
   his client was not negligent. But the facts
   show otherwise, and the defense counsel
   realized that you wouldn't bite.

      He then switched to the "it was your
   client's fault" lure, claiming that the plaintiff's
   own actions caused the accident. But
   you didn't bite on that one, either.

      Then my adversary switched to the "non-serious
   injury" lure and stated that even if
   the defendant were negligent and the plaintiff
   were blameless, the defendant shouldn't
   have to pay because the injury is not serious.

      When that failed, and when defense
   counsel realized that you wouldn't bite at
   any of the others, he pulled out the big one,
   the "plaintiff exaggerates" lure, hoping you
   would bite.

      Ladies and gentlemen, they may fool
   some of the fish some of the time, but they
   can't fool jurors at all. There is no excuse for
   this argument except defense counsel's
   desire to prevent his client from paying
   what he rightfully owes.

Explain what really happened. Do not recite a list of witnesses and waste time reviewing each. Tell your story as a narrative, using their testimony to buttress your points. For example,

   We know that the defendant ran the light
   because the nice lady in the car behind my
   client told us so. We know that the defendant
   was going too fast because the police
   officer measured the skid marks, and the
   engineer explained what they meant and
   how fast the defendant's car was actually
   going.

Use graphic examples whenever possible, and try to elicit a response or emotion. Snakes and bugs make jurors squirm; deceit makes them want to act. Work reaction-evoking examples into your summations.

A broken arm may hurt, but the pain is not what upsets jurors. Picturing the plaintiff trying to bend a hanger to scratch an itch under a cast has more impact. When the defendant claims that your client has fully recovered from the injuries, make an analogy to something that can be repaired but is never the same. For example, Krazy Glue can make a vase look like new, but the vase won't hold water.

Tell the jury what the case is worth. Do not hesitate to ask for damages, and don't be embarrassed about asking for a large sum. Just be prepared to present a logical reason why the award should be large.

Now is not the best time to reuse your demonstrative evidence, although you should refer to it. It is the time to create a chart the jurors will fill out with you, using their recollections of the facts.

It should have blank spaces--which you'll fill in with a sum--for the pain of the impact, the discomfort of lying on the pavement while awaiting help, the fear of an ambulance ride, medical expenses, lost earnings, and any other elements permitted in your jurisdiction.

Sometimes we need a gentle way to tell jurors that the case may be worth a lot of money. I often tell them that while preparing for my summation, I tried to evaluate what would be fair compensation for my client. I listed all the elements of damage and came up with a total number. Then, I tell them:

   Just at that moment, my daughter came in
   and looked over my shoulder. "Wow!" she
   said. "I want that much money. What do I
   have to do for it?"

      I told her, "If you really want $2 million,
   this is what you have to go through." I described
   the case facts in minute detail and
   told her about the pain my client has endured.
   I tell the story of the case as if my
   daughter were the plaintiff.

      My daughter thought about it for a
   minute, then said, "The money is not
   enough."

Challenge the jury to right the wrong. Empowering the jury to act is the best way to get results. Not every juror will be totally on your side. Hopefully, some will be. They need to be empowered so they can convince their fellow jurors.

Arm them with the material to argue your case to the others. For example, if you think a teacher serving on the panel is sympathetic to the plaintiff, make sure some of your analogies relate to teaching: Compare the pain of the severe headache your client has suffered to the sound of chalk scratching on a blackboard over and over again.

Giving favorable jurors the tools they'll need to persuade others is not always enough. You must make the jurors want to help. To inspire them, you must convince them that the plaintiff has been trying to help himself or herself. Remind the jury that the point is not that your client can't play basketball anymore, but that when he tried to return to the game he loved, he fought to overcome the pain but suffered new feelings of inadequacy that made his loss worse. Your client is not allowed to return to the courthouse in three years if he needs another operation or has a similar complication; this is his day in court.

You must have a copy of the jury questionnaire and take the jury through each and every item on the list so jurors know exactly what you expect of them. If the first question to the jury is "Was the defendant negligent?" write a large "yes" on your chart. Don't take any question for granted. Empower the jurors, and they will become your advocates.

GARY B. PILLERSDORF practices law in New York City.