David Yocom built a
reputation as a scrapper who hates to lose a
fight - whether in the courtroom or the
political arena. Yocom
prosecuted nearly 300 cases, 17 of them
murders, during the 1970s. They included a
kidnapping conviction for Ted Bundy and a
murder conviction for polygamist leader Ervil
LeBaron, who ordered assassinations carried out
by what Yocom termed the "cult of killer
wives." "He was a darn
good prosecutor - the best in the state when he
was doing it," says deputy Salt Lake County
attorney Robert Stott. "The guy was fearless.
He didn't back down from anybody, not even
judges." Later, as Salt
Lake County district attorney, Yocom sparred
with the County Council over the budget and
directed civil litigation for the county, while
still making tough calls in criminal matters -
like whether to pursue the death penalty in a
case or prosecute the county mayor.
But after 42 years in
the criminal justice profession, including an
unprecedented four terms as D.A., Yocom is
retiring. "It's been the
best job of my life," Yocom says. "It's been a
wonderful job. I've never wanted anything more
than to be the D.A."
A fighter - but fair
In a job that invites
criticism and Monday-morning quarterbacking,
Yocom says he has few regrets.
"I've always tried to do
the right thing," he says. "Sometimes it's
obvious. Sometimes it's not popular from a
public standpoint."
Marty Verhoef, Yocom's former law partner and
the current director of the D.A.'s criminal
division, summed up Yocom's career in one word:
Integrity. "That's what
stands out in my mind," Verhoef said. "Honesty
and doing the right thing for the right reason
- and what's best for the county and his
constituents. It pervades everything he does."
Though some have
criticized Yocom for holding grudges, Verhoef
claims Yocom simply values loyalty - to the
office and to the profession.
Yocom says the notion
that he has a memory like an elephant for
holding a grudge surfaced during his successful
1986 run for county attorney.
But he disputes the
charge. As an example, he points to prosecutor
Michael Christensen, who ran against him.
Following the election,
Yocom, a Democrat, reassigned Christensen, a
Republican, from adult crimes to the juvenile
division. But
Christensen - who still works for the office as
a supervisor - says he doesn't fault Yocom for
the transfer, acknowledging he probably would
have done the same to Yocom.
"A lot of people
criticized him for moving me out to juvie, but
I think it added 10 years to my life and made
my career more enjoyable," says Christensen.
Third District Judge
Glenn Iwasaki has worked with, for and against
Yocom during prior incarnations as a prosecutor
and defense attorney.
"He was fair in how he treated you, both as
opposing counsel and as a person," Iwasaki
said. "I have nothing but the greatest respect
for him." In court,
Yocom was a brawler defense lawyers came to
respect. "Anytime you
had [to go against] Yocom, you knew you were
going to have a knock-down, drag-out fight,"
says attorney Stephen McCaughey.
Yocom admits he
doesn't like to lose.
"I'm competitive," he says. "I was involved in
sports as a youngster. I had a brother who was
very athletic, but I wasn't gifted with all the
talents he had, so I had to try a little bit
harder. "I didn't want
to be a loser and that competitive instinct
carried over to my courtroom demeanor, as well
as my political approach and the battles I had
with county commissions and councils and
everything else that happens in the civil arena
of this job."
Controlling the
courtroom Yocom grew up
in the Salt Lake Valley and graduated from
Granite High School in 1956. He attended Dixie
College for a year, earned a business degree at
the University of Utah, then a law degree from
the U. in 1965. After
graduation, Yocom worked for an insurance
company, teamed with two defense attorneys and
also worked solo. In
1969, he began prosecuting felonies for the
D.A.'s office. In those
days before training seminars became routine
for attorneys, Yocom said prosecutors literally
learned by "trial and error."
At one point, Yocom
racked up six trial losses in a row.
"I was ready to resign,
but [then-County Attorney] Jay Banks wouldn't
let me," he says. "He told me to get out there
and do it again." Yocom
credits Banks, who later became a judge, with
teaching him "courtroom control."
"When you walk in the
courtroom, it's your courtroom." Yocom says.
"You're the prosecutor, you're in charge,
you're going to do it your way, and you can't
let anybody wrestle that control away from you.
"If you let the defense
attorney take the show away from you, or you
let the judge be the focal point, you're going
to lose." Yocom says he
was often accused by defense lawyers of walking
a fine line between what was proper and
improper during closing arguments.
"I'd go right up to it
[that line] but never cross it," he says,
adding that he was never reversed by the Utah
Supreme Court for anything he said to a jury.
"You have to be forceful, but not be
unethical." Yocom said
he also learned from his seven-year stint as a
defense attorney, from 1979 to 1986, during
which he helped defend Joseph Paul Franklin,
who was convicted in 1981 of capital murder for
shooting two black joggers in Liberty Park and
sentenced to life in prison.
"I really did appreciate
more the job of the defense attorney in a death
penalty case, and how much pressure there is on
the attorney, especially the difficult cases
where you don't have a lot to work with," Yocom
said. John Hill, a
former defense attorney who is now executive
director of Salt Lake Legal Defenders, faced
off with Yocom in the 70s and early 80s.
"We were vigorous,
ardent adversaries for many years, and we went
to war often during that time," Hill said.
He said most of the
cases were "pretty serious - capital murder,
rape, and at a time when the death penalty was
being imposed quite regularly."
But during late-night
vigils waiting for jury verdicts, Hill and
Yocom became good friends as they wiled away
the hours pitching coins.
Hill says he came to
respect Yocom's ability to "do the right
thing." "The public has
been the beneficiary of a very wise man, who
has made a huge number of great decisions,"
Hill says.
Tough decisions
One of Yocom's first
major decisions as county attorney was to
approve a plea deal for master forger and
killer Mark Hofmann.
Charged with capital murder for killing two
people with homemade pipebombs in 1985, Hofmann
got life in prison.
Yocom says he was convinced a jury would not
give Hofmann the death penalty because of his
lack of any prior criminal record. He continues
to deny the speculation that the plea was
fashioned to avoid a trial that might embarrass
high ranking leaders of the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints, who were duped by
Hofmann. In exchange,
Hofmann gave investigators an "extensive
debriefing" about how he created his forgeries,
which included numerous fake historic Mormon
church documents. "I
think there's thousands of his forgeries still
floating around out there," said Yocom.
His most controversial
case in recent years involved the decision in
2004 to prosecute then-Salt Lake County Mayor
Nancy Workman, a Republican, on charges of
misusing public funds.
Acquitted by a jury in February 2005, the
verdict came too late for Workman, who had
dropped from the election after losing the
support of her party.
Yocom is unapologetic.
"She took herself down," he says. "We just
followed the evidence, and it led right to her.
. . . You can't sweep it under the table when
you see wrong-doing." To
avoid the appearance of a politically motivated
prosecution, Yocom asked a panel of three
county attorneys from other counties to decide
if there was sufficient evidence to prosecute
Workman. He also appointed a special prosecutor
to try the case.
More links, no more law
On a recent winter day,
as he boxed up photos, golf trophies and other
mementos, Yocom recalled his debut as top
prosecutor 20 years ago. He had taken office
about six weeks early to fill the gap left by
Salt Lake County Attorney Ted Cannon, who was
forced to step down amid allegations of sexual
harassment. As interim county attorney, Yocom
earned a penny an hour.
"I've still got that check somewhere," Yocom
said with a laugh, noting that it amounted to
about $2. Now 68, Yocom
says he's aware he won't live forever and he's
looking forward to learning to paint, traveling
with Linda, his wife of 35 years, and playing
golf at their second home in St. George.
"I have no desire to
practice law, or be a greeter at Wal-Mart,"
Yocom says. "I'm truly retiring."
That $2 check may
finally come in handy.
shunt@sltrib.com
Yocom career
highlights *
Convicted Ted Bundy in 1975 of
trying to abduct an 18-year-old woman from
Fashion Place Mall. Bundy later was found to be
a serial killer, with victims around the
country. *
Failed in 1976 to become the Democratic
Party's nominee for Utah attorney
general. *
Investigated the May 1977 murder of
polygamist leader Rulon Allred, who
was shot by two women at the Murray office
where he practiced naturopathic medicine. Four
followers of rival polygamist leader Ervil
LeBaron were acquitted in March 1979.
* Quit the
county attorney's office in 1979 to go
into private practice. *
Appointed that same year to be special
prosecutor of LeBaron, who was
convicted in 1980 of capital murder.
* Defended
Joseph Paul Franklin, charged with
capital murder for the August 1980 shootings of
two black joggers in Liberty Park. Franklin was
found guilty but escaped a death sentence.
* Elected to the
office of county attorney in 1986.
* Approved a
plea bargain for forger-murderer Mark
Hofmann in 1987. *
Re-elected in 1990.
* Unseated by
Republican Neal Gunnarson in 1994
election. *
Coordinated capital murder
cases for the Utah Attorney General's
Office from 1994 to 1998.
* Defeated
Gunnarson in 1998 to win back the top
county prosecutor job. *
Re-elected in 2002.
* Filed
complaint in 2004 against then-Salt Lake County
Mayor Nancy Workman, a Republican, on
charges of misusing public funds. She was
acquitted by a jury in February
2005. |