Harlan Jacobson

Good for the Jews! And other people, too. I was looking at a 6 point speeding ticket and an inspection violation in the town of Hancock on my way up to take my daughter to an upstate SUNY. Needless to say, in the eyes of G-D, I was innocent. Not so innocent in the eyes of the State Trooper who, by the way, was a completely civil, nice fellow. (I would still urge all to go slow through the town of Hancock, which seems to have discovered that the town budget can be greatly serviced out on Rte 17.) I cold-called the offices of Zev Goldstein, spoke with both him and his son, Herschel. I cried, I gnashed my teeth. I wailed.
Attorney Goldstein subsequently represented me in court like a true champion defender. He achieved a spectacular adjudication in my favor–there were mitigating circumstances the court perhaps accepted in my favor as part of his argument. Whatever he said, he made the best case for me, and the court listened and reacted fairly. I could not be more pleased with his work. Don’t speed. But if you do, who ya gonna call? Zev Goldstein, that’s who! And Herschel.
(PS, I bet my Goldstein family and his were from the same town of Suvulk in the Pale, and that his ancestors got mine out of trouble with that buddinsky, the Grand Rebbe.)