During his rambling sessions with his attorneys, McVeigh heard an idea that gave him hope: the necessity defense. The defense applies when a defendant violates a criminal statute in an emergency situation to prevent greater harm. This was it, McVeigh decided. Clinton’s federal government had created an emergency with Waco and the assault weapons band, so McVeigh had to take action. He instructed his lawyers to research the necessity defense and prepare to present it to the jury at trial.
James sent more than a dozen lawyers and investigators on visits to the prison, but McVeigh bonded most closely with one of them—Randy Coyne. They were an unlikely pair. Coyne was a hippie of sorts, whose great passion in life was jazz drumming. (He majored in music in college and spent a couple of years as a band instructor in Massachusetts before going to law school.) After a clerkship in Washington, he found a job teaching at the law school of the University of Oklahoma, where he developed a specialty in the death penalty, which he passionately opposed. In light of his background and politics, as well as his shaggy looks, Coyne never fit in very well in his adopted state. His alienation from his surroundings was reflected in a macabre sense of humor. For years Coyne represented Roger Dale Stafford, a notorious Oklahoma outlaw, who had been convicted of killing six people at a Sirloin Stockade restaurant in Oklahoma City. Two days after Stafford was finally executed, Coyne sent the prosecutor a five-dollar gift certificate to Sirloin Stockade.
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