Kup's Chicago - Irv Kupcinet [59]
Other splendid jurists in Chicago include Cornelius Harrington, Thomas Kluczynski, Walker Butler, Joseph Drucker, and Hyman Feldman.
In writing of jurists, however, I cannot help but delve into the past to recall the memories of some of Chicago’s more colorful judges. One was the late United States District Court Judge John Barnes, known as “The Beard.” Judge Barnes had the reputation of being the most able – and most feared – judge on the bench. He was brilliant but bitter. The loss of two sons in World War II had left its mark on him and there was no nonsense in his courtroom. His stem manner caused many a lawyer to fear bidding him even a normal “Hello.”
One of the more colorful of the bygone era was Judge Joseph David, who once made headlines by ruling in favor of Sally Rand on a nudity charge by asking, “Would you put pants on a horse?” Lawyers delighted in having a case tried by Judge David. His brilliance as a jurist was matched by his flair for the flamboyant. As one attorney described an experience in the judge’s court, “It’s a combination legal lesson and vaudeville act.”
Another in the same spectrum was the late Judge William Lindsay, a noted and admitted tippler. Lawyers take an oath that Judge Lindsay, after imbibing a few too many, fell asleep on the bench one day – and then fell off!
And there was the time the judge and his good friend, real estate tycoon Paul Caspers, decided to make a night of it. They drank well into the wee hours, when the judge decided it was time to freshen up and head for his court, without benefit of sleep. He reported promptly on time – 8:00 A.M.
Caspers, who was due in court at 10:00 A.M. to represent himself in a real estate matter, didn’t fare as well. He fell asleep after showering and missed his ten o’clock appearance in court. Judge Lindsay spared no vehemence when his old friend and drinking partner of the night before finally appeared. He delivered a blistering rebuke to a man “who, for ANY reason, could not keep his court appointment.”
Then, shaking a shaky finger at Caspers, he exclaimed, “If you must play, then you must pay!”
And then there’s the sad story of a jurist who shall remain nameless, except for his nickname, “Cash Register.” The reason is obvious. “Cash Register” would take anything, including a hot stove, for favors rendered on the bench. The voters finally caught up with him and he was defeated for re-election. “Cash Register” then returned to his law practice with equally disastrous results. He was disbarred. From Chicago he drifted to California, where a few years later “Cash Register” died. His last known employment was as a milk-wagon driver.
I, personally, arrived on the scene just a bit too late to cover the end of the really outrageous era. But I did get here in plenty of time to know (and appreciate) the last of the old-line Chicago bosses – that much underestimated Democratic king-maker of the thirties and early forties, our late Mayor Edward J. Kelly. A Back-of-the-Stockyards Irishman who had studied engineering in night school to qualify for a job with the Metropolitan Sanitary District, Kelly was an amazing politician. So impressive were his charm, his professionalism, and his showmanship that for many years he even enjoyed the personal approval of the late Colonel Robert R. McCormick, a die-hard champion of the opposite political camp. McCormick had served as president of the Metropolitan Sanitary District, while Kelly was a supervisor on the engineering staff. One day Kelly lost his Irish temper and