Apparently, also completely unenforceable under North Carolina law. Brown v. Kenir 175 North Carolina appeals 68. The state Court of Appeals had held that statutory tenant protections couldn't be waived by contract. Any clause purporting to wave those rights was void as against public policy.
Camille had sent Mark from legal a copy of Brown v. Kenir with the relevant passages highlighted. Never got a response.
Instead, she got a notice that the eviction was scheduled for Friday, October 13th at 10:00 a.m. A sheriff's deputy would arrive to remove Mrs. Hughes and her belongings from the premises. That was when Camille filed the emergency TRO and Sharon Puit had just set the hearing for October 17th, 4 days after Mrs. Hughes would already be evicted.
Camille closed the laptop and pulled out her phone, opened a new document, and started typing. Motion for emergency advancement of hearing date.
The Duke Law Clinical Program office was mostly empty when Camille arrived at 4:30. Most students had finished their work for the day. A few remained in the library, heads bent over case books, highlighters moving across pages. Professor Washington's office was at the end of the hall.
His door stood open. He sat at his desk with a stack of student briefs in front of him, red pen in hand, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked up when she knocked on the door frame. How'd it go?
She handed him the stamped filing. He scanned the first page, noted the timestamp, flipped to the hearing date notation Sharon had scrawled at the bottom. They set it for after the eviction. Yes.
He set the document down and removed his glasses. You expected this? I prepared for it. I drafted a motion for advancement this afternoon.
I'll file it tomorrow morning. Professor Washington leaned back in his chair. He was 53, had been teaching at Duke for 18 years, ran the clinical program for 12. Before that, he'd spent 15 years as a public defender in Atlanta.
He'd seen every trick prosecutors and judges could pull. Lost cases he should have won because the system protected itself. One cases he should have lost because he'd documented every procedural violation meticulously. Tell me what happened.
Start at security. Camille walked him through it. Travis Mundy and the secondary screening. The 11 minutes and 40 seconds.
The three white attorneys who'd passed through without issue. The wand pressed against her spine. His hand hovering near his weapon. Professor Washington's expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened.
And the clerk's office. She described Sharon Puit's refusal, the claim about the missing signature page, the court reporter who'd slowed down, Mitchell, the younger clerk who'd witnessed everything but said nothing. The final stamp that Sharon had brought down like a gavel. When she finished, Professor Washington was quiet for a long moment.
Names: Travis Mundy, badge number 4792. Sharon Puit, chief clerk. He wrote them down in a small notebook he kept in his desk drawer. You documenting everything?
Times, dates, witnesses, exact words where I can remember them. Photos, video. Not yet. They wouldn't let me have my phone in secondary screening.
Next time, start recording before you go through security. Audio only if you have to. North Carolina is a one party consent state. You can record any conversation you're part of without telling them.
Camille nodded. She already knew that. Had looked up the statute last week when this started getting complicated. Professor Washington steepled his fingers, elbows on his desk.
I need to ask you something and I want you to be completely honest. Are you prepared for how hard they're going to push back? I'm prepared. Because courthouse staff doesn't like being challenged, especially by He paused.
Especially by young black women who cite statutes at them. Yes. No hedging, no sugar coating, just honesty. And it's going to get worse before it gets better.
You file that advancement motion, they'll find another reason to delay. You push on the delay, they'll push back harder. You keep pushing, they'll start looking for ways to make your life difficult, make you want to give up. I won't give up.
I believe you. But Camille, I also need you to think about Mrs. Hughes. If you make this a fight, they might take it out on her. Deny her benefits she's entitled to.
Slowwalk other cases she needs help with. Make her life harder because you made theirs harder. Camille had already thought about that. Stayed up until 2 a.m. Last night thinking about it.
Mrs. Hughes called me yesterday, told me she's lived in North Carolina her whole life, 62 years. And in all those years, every time she's needed help from the government, from the courts, from any official system, they've made it as difficult as possible, made her wait, made her prove she deserved help, made her feel like she was asking for charity instead of claiming her rights. She met Professor Washington's eyes. She said if they're going to make it hard anyway, she'd rather fight and lose than roll over and accept it.
So, yes, I've thought about the risks, and I'm still going forward. Professor Washington smiled slightly, opened his desk drawer, and pulled out a business card. Then, you're going to need this. The card was simple.
White stock, black text, Marcus Chen, senior staff attorney, ACLU of North Carolina, a Raleigh phone number, and email address below. Why would I need the ACLU for a landlord tenant case? Because this stopped being just a landlord tenant case the moment Sharon Puit refused your filing. The moment Travis Mundy held you in secondary screening for 12 minutes while white attorneys walked through.
The moment you became a problem, they wanted to go away. He slid the card across the desk. You keep documenting. You keep fighting for Mrs. Hughes.
But Camille, if things escalate, and I think they will, you call Marcus. Tell him I sent you. He'll know what to do. Camille pocketed the card.
You think it'll escalate to federal civil rights litigation? I think you're about to find out what happens when a black woman with a Rhodes Scholarship and a photographic memory for case law challenges a system that's been running on autopilot for 20 years. Professor Washington's smile widened slightly, and honestly, I can't wait to watch.
That night, Camille sat at her kitchen table with her laptop open and three legal pads spread out around her. One pad for the Hughes case, one for the advancement motion, one for something new, a timeline of courthouse incidents. She started with September 12th, her first visit to Durham County Justice Center. Travis Mundy had stopped her at security that day, too.
Secondary screening 7 minutes claimed the metal detector had beeped, though she'd walked through it without incident after the screening. September 19th, second visit. Travis again. Different excuse that time said her bag looked suspicious.
Searched every compartment. 9 minutes.
September 26th. Third visit. Travis again. No excuse offered.