When I was 21 about to graduate from college, my cousin Katie, six at the time, promised me that she would come live with me when I got a job and be my maid because she really, really liked using her play broom and mop to clean. As a future law student, I realized something about this statement:

1. Katie told me she would do this (offer).
2. I said, ‘sounds good’ (acceptance).
3. My place would be clean, and without a maid it definitely wouldn’t be, and Katie would be able to fulfill her love of cleaning while simultaneously having a place to live (consideration).
4. We were both more than likely on the same page (mutuality).

Clearly, this was a legally enforceable oral contract. Sweet!

So, a few years later I moved to New Jersey to start my independent, adult life and told her she was required to come with me. Imagine my surprise when she, now nine, told me she no longer liked cleaning, and plus her parents probably wouldn’t let her come with me because they would miss her too much.

Courtesy of Tumblr.

I knew a breach when I saw one, and I told her I might have to sue; however, more pressing matters existed at the time, and I kind of forgot. But I was reminded of this story recently when I read an article about Jesse Dimmick.

Dimmick faced the same dilemma that I did with Katie: he made a very clear oral contract with a couple, and they just went and breached it. Unlike me, though, Dimmick had the strength and character to actually fight for his rights and sue.

Here is the story: Dimmick and an accomplice went to the Aurora motel in Colorado and met Michael Curtis; the men were all big druggies. The duo stabbed Curtis to death, stole his drugs and wallet, and ran away (Dimmick pled guilty to this so I feel free to leave off the “allegedly” here). The accomplice was then caught and arrested at another motel. This made Dimmick think that the cops might want to arrest him too, and he knew he had to do something to protect himself.

So he went to Kansas where he found some friends: Jared and Lindsay Rowley. He didn’t know the couple before he entered their house uninvited and held them at knifepoint, but something like that shouldn’t stand in the way of potential companionship.

To celebrate the newly formed friendship, the couple offered the fugitive food, drink, and a blanket. They then watched movies together until Dimmick fell asleep. This is where this story takes a turn for the worst: the Rowleys turned out to be very bad hosts. When their new pal fell asleep, they had the audacity to run to the cops and give away his location. The police came barging in to wake up the sleepy murderer from his much-needed nap, shooting him in the process.

Not even done with their betrayal, this horrible couple actually sued Dimmick for home invasion and stress! But don’t worry, Dimmick realized that the Rowleys were in the wrong and decided to make sure they never treated any other fugitive on the run from the law in a similar manner: he countersued.

Dimmick had realized the same thing that I had realized with Katie:

1. He told the couple that he would give them an undisclosed amount of money if they hid him (offer).
2. He said they agreed to the offer (acceptance).
3. He would have a safe haven to protect him since he “feared for his life,” and they would get money (consideration).
4. I’m sure both parties knew what they were doing here (mutuality).

Clearly, this was a legally enforceable oral contract. And Dimmick wanted $235,000 for this egregious act. After all, not only did they breach the contract, but that breach caused the poor man to get shot.

Strangely, the court decided to dismiss this lawsuit despite the strong case Dimmick presented. Then, to pour gas on the fire, Dimmick was first convicted of two counts of kidnapping and sentenced to eleven years then convicted of murder and given another 37 years.

I just don’t understand the court system. When a man with a clearly valid case like this one cannot win, what is the point in even trying? Horrible as this is to say, with this line of inappropriate judicial highhandedness, there is a chance I wouldn’t have even won my case against Katie despite the fact that I was clearly right.

I sympathize with Dimmick. It is hard to trust anyone these days, and the only solution seems to be to get everything in writing and probably also have it notarized. Next time Katie offers to work for me, I’ll have learned my lesson. I hope for his sake Dimmick will too. If some other inmate offers him protection for certain “other favors,” Dimmick should break out the pen and paper: I’d hate for him to lose another case orally.

Courtesy of GIPHY.

Ashley Shaw

Ashley Shaw is an Alabama native and current New Jersey resident. A graduate of both Kennesaw State University and Thomas Goode Jones School of Law, she spends her free time reading, writing, boxing, horseback riding, playing trivia, flying helicopters, playing sports, and a whole lot else. So maybe she has too much spare time. Contact Ashley at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

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