What I Learned From My First Trial Experience in California

"My first trial experience was unlike anything I had imagined it would be while simultaneously everything I’d anticipated multiplied to the 10th degree. It stretched over two and a half months in Sacramento, far from home, and marked by long days, unexpected turns, and unforgettable lessons. I shared an Airbnb with my co-second chair, Vanessa Deniston, and together we navigated the intensity of trial life. Every day felt like a new adventure, a rollercoaster of preparation, adrenaline, and small victories that carried us through the toughest moments." - Anna Pantsulaya

The Case:

In the early morning hours of September 26, 2016, our client and plaintiff, Lethesia Guzman, struck the car in front of her and became disabled in the third lane of Highway 80 between Davis and Sacramento, on an elevated area of the highway known as the Yolo Causeway. She and her fiancé, David Miranda, exited the car uninjured and, as instructed, waited by the causeway edge after calling 911. About seven minutes later, a tractor-trailer carrying more than 80,000 lbs of tomatoes, operated by Morning Star Trucking failed to see the disabled Fusion until it was just 250 feet away. The driver swerved, sideswiped the Fusion, and lost control. The trailers struck Guzman and Miranda, throwing them 30 feet off the bridge. Miranda was killed and Guzman sustained catastrophic injuries.

The Trial:

The trial consisted of three phases:

1. liability/compensatory damages (jury trial),
2. punitive damages (jury trial), and
3. alter ego (bench trial), which spanned over several months. By the time we reached trial, the courtroom itself reflected the scale of the case: thousands of pages of exhibits stacked in binders, filling rows and lining the counsel tables. Pre-trial litigation had been equally demanding, involving over 50 depositions, opposition to a complex motion for summary judgment, and constant discovery disputes that set the stage for the battle ahead.

One of the earliest highlights came with voir dire. Watching Christopher Dolan, our lead trial attorney, masterfully work through the jury pool was a preview of what was to come. He gently peeled back layers of responses, uncovering biases that might otherwise have gone unnoticed and guided us to a panel we could trust to listen with open minds. Learning directly from him was the definition of a masterclass, especially knowing this case would become the first of two eight-figure verdicts he achieved that year.

But trial rarely unfolds without surprises. The defense attempted to spring a motion centered on Medicare eligibility disclosure. The Court made clear its disapproval of their tactic, but the urgency was real. Suddenly, our team had to juggle two tracks at once: preparing the next day’s witnesses while diving into legal research, dissecting their arguments, crafting our responses, and filing a polished, properly formatted opposition brief ready to argue by morning. For me, experiencing this as a first-timer was an instant and unforgettable lesson in pivoting under pressure, defending not only our client’s case but also the integrity of a fair trial itself.

Another unforgettable moment came when the defense introduced what they described as “raw” surveillance footage. They insisted it was taken directly from the recording device, but that claim quickly fell apart. From more than 160 hours of surveillance, they produced only 3.5 hours of edited footage, just 13 minutes of which they intended to show the jury. Those 13 minutes conveniently omitted the very scenes demonstrating the pain and limitations our client and her physicians had testified to. Despite repeated requests throughout litigation, including up to trial, we had never received these videos. They were dropped into our inbox at midnight, on the eve of being shown to the jury. What followed was a sleepless scramble: combing through footage frame-by-frame to uncover what was deliberately excluded, drafting a motion to exclude the evidence, and preparing for witnesses taking the stand the next morning. Watching the credibility of that so-called evidence unravel before the jury taught me that trials are battles of truth as much as skill.

There were moments of levity too, even in the midst of the grind. I’ll never forget passing Post-it notes with the team while combing through 50 depositions, hunting inconsistencies in witness testimony or the adrenaline of taking a witness for the very first time, with only the night before to prepare. That trial-by-fire forced me to trust myself and the preparation that got me there.

And then there were the dramatic scenes: watching the Court admonish the billionaire owner of one of the largest tomato manufacturing companies in the country for attempting to coach a witness during testimony. It was surreal to realize that money and power do not insulate anyone from accountability.

What will stay with me most are the moments of profound human connection. Our client’s young daughter came to court a few times. One day, as we sat in the cafeteria waiting for lunch to end, she shyly approached me and placed a rose-quartz stone in my hand. “This is to protect you while you help Mommy,” she said. That small act of trust captured the very heart of why we were there.

The night before closing arguments, Chris, Vanessa, and I decided to attend a local trivia night, aptly naming our team “Riddle Me This Bateman.” Pure synchronicity followed: the final trivia question was, “What fruit was Pizza Hut using to make its new wine?” The answer? tomatoes. We won the trivia game and the next day discovered the defendants themselves had supplied those very tomatoes.

After the verdict was read, the jury waited outside the courtroom. Not to leave, but to find us. They wanted to thank us for the discipline, empathy, and heart they had witnessed day after day. Some even admitted they’d been eager to finally speak to us after months of silence. For them, the experience had been like watching a play, seated an arm’s length away yet unable to engage. We were left to wonder whether they truly grasped what we fought for, or whether the defense’s hollow attempt to blame our client had left its mark.

In the end, it was our client’s simple request that carried the greatest weight. After the jury returned its verdict, finding in her favor, awarding $17,220,807 in compensatory and punitive damages, and assigning her 0% liability, she asked to see the verdict form itself. She wanted to hold the document that confirmed what the defense fought to deny: that she bore no responsibility for the crash. Seeing her vindicated, jurors hugging her and telling her “This wasn’t your fault,” made every exhausting day worth it.

Overall, my first trial was exhausting, exhilarating, humbling, and deeply rewarding. Living out of an Airbnb for two and a half months tested me in more ways than I expected, but it also showed me what it truly means to fight for justice as part of a team. I’ll carry these lessons into every trial that comes next.