One of Trump's Impeachment Lawyers Is a Personal Injury Attorney Who Sued Trump Last Year

By Bess Levin, Vanity Fair

12 February 21

Michael T. van der Veen specializes in dog bites, among other things.

onald Trump went into the first day of his second impeachment trial reportedly feeling about as good as someone who’s set a record for presidential impeachments can feel. Not only was he not worried about the stain of inciting a violent insurrection, but he and his lawyers reportedly viewed the proceedings as a positive because they would “cement” his “influence over the Republican party.” Fast-forward a day and Trump is apparently feeling a lot less hot, thanks to the opening statement delivered by his defense team, which could best be described as, “What the f--k was that?”

Unlike his first impeachment trial, the ex-president is unable to tweet his way through it, but he nevertheless made his feelings known. According to CNN’s Kaitlan Collins, Trump was “basically screaming” as Bruce Castor Jr. gave his meandering, incomprehensible argument over the course of nearly 50 interminable minutes, each one worse than the last. Attempting to quantify his rage, people familiar with the matter told The New York Times that on a scale of one to 10, with 10 being the angriest, Trump “was an eight,” which we assume is similar to his anger level when, after being frisked on the way out of the White House on January 20, he was told that no, he couldn’t take the flatware with him.

Of course, it’s not entirely surprising that Trump’s defense gave a less than inspiring opening statement—one that was so bad that it got Republican senator Bill Cassidy to make a last-minute change and vote with Democrats. After being charged with inciting an insurrection, Trump found that not one of the lawyers originally expected to represent him would. Days before his trial kicked off, the legal team Lindsey Graham helped set Trump up with quit, reportedly over the ex-president’s insistence that they argue the 2020 election was stolen from him, which obviously would have been a lie. That left Trump basically scraping the bottom of the barrel of the legal profession, which explains how he ended up with Castor—who, earlier in his career, fought to keep Bill Cosby out of prison—and David Schoen, who said he had considered defending Jeffrey Epstein before the notorious pedophile died in prison. (Schoen has also worked with “accused rapists, capital murderers, and international narcotics dealers,” per the Atlanta Jewish Times. He told the outlet that he had “represented all sorts of reputed mobster figures: alleged head of Russian mafia in this country, Israeli mafia, and two Italian bosses, as well a guy the government claimed was the biggest mafioso in the world.”) Oh, and this guy! Per The Washington Post:

Last year, Philadelphia lawyer Michael T. van der Veen filed a lawsuit against then president Donald Trump accusing him of making repeated claims that mail voting is “ripe with fraud” despite having “no evidence in support of these claims.” This week, van der Veen is adopting a different posture as part of the team of attorneys defending Trump’s efforts to overturn the 2020 presidential election result in his Senate impeachment trial.… Van der Veen’s route to Trump’s legal team began when the firm he founded—van der Veen, O’Neill, Hartshorn, and Levin—hired Bruce Castor in December. Castor, a former prosecutor from suburban Philadelphia, in turn was recommended to Trump aides and hired last month.

Now, van der Veen’s name and signature appear in Trump’s impeachment filings alongside Castor’s, as well as those of David Schoen, an Atlanta-based lawyer Trump brought on last week. In a 78-page defense brief filed Monday, the lawyers argued that Trump was entitled to express his belief that “voting irregularities” he attributed to illegal changes to election laws had tainted the election.

According to The Washington Post, van der Veen is best known as a personal injury lawyer whose local radio ads “are reminiscent of East Coast electronics chain Crazy Eddie’s high-octane TV pitches” that aired in the 1980s. “Whether you’re walking down Chestnut or Market, Frankurt or Aramingo, be careful and watch your step,” an announcer shots in one representative ad spot. “But if the walkway isn’t clear, and you fall and get hurt due to snow and ice, call 215-546-1000 for van der Veen, O’Neill, Hartshorn, and Levin—trial lawyers excelling in the area of the law most critical to your family. The ‘V’ is for ‘Victory.’” In copy that, to be fair, sounds exactly like how Trump would describe himself if he were a lawyer, van der Veen’s website boasts of the “relentless, savvy defense” it provides not just for people who slip and fall and want to sue the city but for those accused of “corporate embezzlement, internet-based offenses, or violent crime,” the Post writes. (The firm also has a detailed page regarding its work on behalf of dog-bite victims, writing: “With decades of experience navigating Pennsylvania’s dog bite laws, our team of Philadelphia dog bite attorneys are driven to enforce clients’ rights to facilitate comprehensive recovery.”) And while Trump was probably hoping for a lawyer who was not the Philadelphia equivalent of Cellino and Barnes, and whose speciality brings to mind lawyers who make their clients show up to court wearing fake neck braces, others believe van der Veen and Trump are perfect for one another:

Van der Veen drew local media attention in 2018 for the elaborate renovation of his small firm’s offices in Philadelphia’s Center City neighborhood. The 25-employee firm occupies a 19th-century rowhouse featuring a Delftware fireplace and ornate mantel carvings of Zeus and Apollo.

For some in Pennsylvania, van der Veen’s representation of Trump is a natural fit, given his career path as a personal injury lawyer who broadcasts ads on local talk radio and touts glowing magazine cover stories on his law firm’s website.

“It probably speaks more to the gadfly culture of Philadelphia trial attorneys than anything else,” a Pennsylvania strategist told the Post. “It’s a showman’s culture.”