Nino and I were the closest of friends for nearly thirty-five years. His faith was inseparable from the man. And he expressed it in every way that he lived his life; thought his thoughts; smiled with the Creator. For Nino it was “the Holy Ghost,” not “the Holy Spirit.” He preferred the Traditional Latin Mass. He would refuse Communion if he hadn’t been to Confession.
It was an honor to be his good friend. And I have no doubt that God put us together. For years, over whisky and cigars and old cowboy movies, we had animated conversations about life, society, law…and faith. Catholic faith.
Nino knew that from the time I was a youngster in high school, I had felt drawn to the Catholic faith. He introduced me to C. S. Lewis—he loved how Lewis translated his deep faith into lovable humor. Of course, lovable humor and resolute faith defined Nino. We’d spend long evenings together talking about Lewis, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Thomas More. We spoke of faith, this world, the next. Our discussions were often long and animated and intense.
But he never sought to convert me.
And then, on May 6, 2009, after nearly two years of study with then-Archbishop Alfred Hughes of New Orleans, I was baptized into the Catholic faith. Nino was my godfather.
When I asked him if he would be, he laughed and said, “Marty, I have been working all my life to get to heaven, and you’re going to slip in right ahead of me!” Once, on our way to Mass, he asked, “Are you really going to go through with this?” I got very angry because I thought he was questioning my faith. He smiled, shrugged, and said, “You’re going to hate Confession.”
Nino’s faith was as constant as his judicial philosophy. One night in my home in New Orleans we were talking about the challenges in society today, and I asked him, “Nino, do you think if you get to heaven you’ll know what’s going on here on earth?” He smiled and said, “No Marty…it’s heaven!”
I miss him. He knows it.
RIP, Nino.
Martin L. C. Feldman has been a federal district judge in Louisiana since 1983.