Justice by Exhaustion: How Nashua’s Courts Protect Power and Punish Dissent

Part IV - The Pocket Judiciary

In Nashua, justice doesn’t feel random. I was told that Superior Court cases are assigned through a “round-robin” system to keep things fair. Yet fifteen of my cases went to the same judge. This was simply not statistically possible and patterns have meaning.

That judge, Charles Temple, became the City’s go-to authority for nearly every Right-to-Know dispute I filed. His rulings repeatedly favored City Hall. When deadlines were missed, he granted forgiveness. When I raised misconduct, he minimized and ignored it.

The City’s lawyers could count on leniency. For me the message was that persistence equals punishment.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Attorneys who practiced before the court quietly acknowledged that Nashua’s legal world is small and insular. Judges, City attorneys, and private counsel overlap on civic boards, bar committees, and political events. That closeness can blur the line between impartiality and influence.

The culture extends beyond one courtroom. Supervisory Judge Jacalyn Colburn allowed my first case to proceed under a seriously ill judge who could not manage hearings. Her successor, Judge Jacki Smith, mentored by both Colburn and Temple, adopted the same permissive approach toward the City. And when Judge Schulman joined the bench, some wonder why Nashua became the landing spot for this judge.

Gender compounds the bias. A man arguing forcefully for the City is “professional.” A woman arguing forcefully for herself is “difficult” where persistence is viewed as an extinguishable flaw.

That bias becomes weaponized when women speak sharply about government misconduct. In a sworn deposition, City Attorney Steve Bolton claimed I had engaged in “rough” or vulgar language at roughly ten public meetings, asserting that he had reviewed minutes and video recordings provided by City officials. I recently filed a Right-to-Know request for those alleged records. He produced no records.

The reason was simple: Bolton’s statements were false. These multiple videos, minutes and evidence were just the calculated use of stereotype. The claim that I was vulgar or aggressive was designed to discredit, not to clarify. It played to a familiar prejudice that women who speak firmly, even caustically and vehemently about government failure are unprofessional or unhinged.

When such misrepresentations go unchecked, they do more than damage one person’s reputation; they reinforce a culture where truth is secondary to hierarchy. Attorney Bolton’s standing and seniority within the New Hampshire Bar (#67) should have carried an obligation of candor; instead, it underscored how power and gender bias intertwine in Nashua’s legal system. His reckless statements will be overlooked by the City, the Court and legal system.

When Judge Temple retired in 2024, his farewell event was held at the Nashua Performing Arts Center, the very venue whose meetings, records and finances he ruled the public could not see. The symbolism was striking: a judge celebrated inside the building whose secrecy he had helped preserve.

This isn’t about one judge or one city. It’s about a system where familiarity replaces fairness and where connections count more than credibility. Nashua’s courts have become a mirror of its politics, closed circles protecting each other from accountability.

In theory, justice is blind. But, in Nashua, it too often sees exactly who’s standing before it and which side they’re on.