Bench & Bar of Minnesota, October 2025
To many, Ellis Island represents the American Dream and a life better than the one left behind. My own relationship with Ellis Island is more complex—and a distinct influence on my work as a criminal defense lawyer.
After waves of immigration, Ellis Island in post-WWII America served a darker and far less-known role. By the 1950s, Ellis Island had been transformed into a place where society’s undesirables, mentally ill or politically inconvenient, were held. Many, like my grandfather, were held without ever being charged with a crime—and without the ability to post bail or bond or the benefit of legal representation. My grandfather emigrated to America in 1921, at the age of 15, an orphan from eastern Europe. His passion for social justice led him to work as a labor organizer and affordable housing advocate in New York City. He also traveled through Minnesota in the mid-1930s doing political organizing of farmers and laborers for what emerged as the present-day Minnesota Democratic Farmer Labor Party (DFL).
In October 1951 my grandfather was arrested by the FBI and INS, held on Ellis Island, and denied bail for over one year. Never charged with a crime, he was ultimately released in late 1952. He was released due to the persistence of his volunteer legal defense team and a courageous federal judge. From Ellis Island, my grandfather wrote about why his fight was so important:
“If the constitutional right to bail is denied to me, why will it not be denied to others… how do you know that sometime in the future, the same thing will not happen to you?”
The Trinidadian author and historian C.L.R. James, who was imprisoned with my grandfather on Ellis Island, once wrote of him that “all whom I saw respected M for the way he conducted himself and his uncompromising stand on elementary human decency.”* While my grandfather died before I was old enough to fully appreciate (or ask good questions about) his life, my father certainly recalls having a parent ripped from the family and held in government custody without any due process.
Given this history, one might assume my legal career would focus on providing representation to clients similarly situated. I, however, was encouraged by my law school mentor, the late and esteemed Joe Friedberg, to take a different path. While Joe’s passion and commitment to criminal defense work was unwavering, he recognized that the criminal justice system needs good, conscientious prosecutors. Joe urged me to improve the criminal justice system from the inside—decades before the term “progressive prosecutor” was coined. And that urging launched a 30-year career as a prosecutor.
During those years I tried over 80 cases, from murder to shoplifting and everything in between. I was exposed to and learned multiple scientific disciplines (forensic DNA and cell phone technology, to name a couple of examples, were just emerging in the early 1990s) and came to appreciate that mastering law, evidence, and procedure were starting points for doing excellent work, not the finish line. My mentor within the Anoka County Attorney’s Office, the late Bob Goodell, instilled a relentless work ethic and deep appreciation of what it really means to be a prosecutor and minister of justice. Bob was a prosecutor who recognized the need to ensure public safety while demonstrating the power of restraint.
I was fortunate and got promoted to managing the Violent Crime Division and later the entire Criminal Division. I supervised and participated in complex investigations. In addition to “working cases,” I had the opportunity to develop office policy, nurture relationships with criminal justice partners, serve with the Minnesota County Attorneys Association (MCAA), draft prosecutorial best practices, and serve two terms on the Minnesota Supreme Court Rules of Criminal Procedure Advisory Committee.
During this time I developed an interest in the unique aspects of child abuse and sexual assault, leading to work teaching and training prosecutors and investigators in case analysis both in Minnesota and around the country. This passion led me to co-found 7 Shores Consulting—a collaborative, highly skilled multi-disciplinary team teaching the investigation, analysis, and prosecution of child exploitation in 16 countries throughout the world. As an adjunct professor in the Criminal Justice and Forensic Science Department at Hamline University, I am frequently reminded of the fragile and complicated relationship the criminal justice system has with our youth, and the need to improve.
The most honorable and meaningful work of a prosecutor is finding a just outcome without regard to public opinion. It involves asking hard questions, challenging assumptions, and never being afraid to do what is right. Choosing to prosecute a beloved or influential community member (or choosing not to), or questioning the conduct of law enforcement, can be met with resistance, even hostility. But these moments matter. They are the moments that push the system toward fairness. Maybe it was the memory of my grandfather—detained without charges and held without bail—that shaped my perspective as a prosecutor. I wanted to get it right. I wanted to ensure we weren’t railroading someone because it was easy or politically safe.
It is from the inside that I truly learned the power of government, the meaning of discretion, and the overwhelming need for empathy for all. Navigating the criminal justice system, both from the victim and suspect perspectives, often involves dealing with fear, anger, addiction, and mental illness. The skills I learned and values I held as a prosecutor—fairness, integrity, and compassion—are equally essential in defense work. My deep understanding of prosecution tactics and strategy have helped me guide clients. The job requires listening, comforting, and instilling confidence in clients that there is a path forward, that they need not be defined by a single act—trusting that, while flawed, the system can be fair.
For decades I pursued this mission as a prosecutor, striving to do what was right—even when it was unpopular and hard. Now, as a defense attorney, I continue that same mission from a different seat at the table, committed to helping people navigate a system that can often feel overwhelming and unforgiving.
My first not-guilty verdict as a defense attorney came in the fall of 2024 in a criminal sexual conduct case I tried with my partner, Nicole Kettwick. The verdict, returned in less than an hour, reflected our ability to demonstrate to the jury a flawed investigation that prioritized a preconceived conclusion rather than a fact-based, best-practices neutral investigation. I can only imagine the fear our client felt in facing these false allegations and a presumptive prison sentence.
Every client has a story and deserves to be treated with respect. Effectively explaining each step of the process and presenting options helps clients understand and contribute to their case outcome. Plea negotiations require the defense lawyer to understand how the case was investigated and charged as well as the presumptive sentence(s) and probationary terms and how judges will likely rule and wield their discretion. And, when necessary, trusting their lawyer to have the ability and confidence to vigorously fight false allegations with every speck of experience at our disposal.
* Mariners, Renegades and Castaways: The Story of Herman Melville and the World We Live In, Chapter VII “Natural But Necessary Conclusion,” C.L.R. James, New York 1953. (Self-published.)
Paul Young has been a partner at Brandt Kettwick Defense since 2023. Previously he was a prosecutor for 30 years specializing in violent crime, trying over 80 cases to verdict. He excels at training new lawyers and has been an adjunct professor at Hamline University and Mitchell Hamline School of Law.