I consider myself fortunate because I have always found satisfaction and meaning in the practice of law.
A love of the law isn't about a statute book. It's about caring and being enthusiastic about having a just society.
I used to delight in going down to the courthouse in towns I visited to watch the young lawyers there perform in court.
I believe in the power of the law to help people and to change things for the better. And I believe most of us—no matter what we do for a living—have the power to show up and contribute something significant to whatever calling we choose.
While I don't remember the details of every case I handled, there are some things I'll never forget working with other lawyers through the Bar Association to achieve: Getting an inept judge out of office by campaigning for his opponent. Creating law school scholarships for students of color. Persuading citizens across the state to vote for a constitutional amendment to provide that the chief justice of the state supreme court be chosen on the basis of something more than seniority.
Working together, we also helped create an approach to delivering legal services to the poor that has endured.
These endeavors brought all of us who were involved with them some of the more meaningful moments of our lives.
Like many young people coming out of college today, I started out in law by going back to the small town where I had grown up.
My first job as an attorney in Bremerton wasn't rich in possibilities or glamour, but it was an opportunity to earn a salary practicing my profession.
Along with having his own private clients, the lawyer who employed me was also the city attorney. That gave me the de facto title of assistant city attorney, a title that sounds grander than the job really was.
I was involved in many of the kinds of work lawyers do. We did real estate deals, negotiated divorces, probated estates, and gave advice to businesspeople. And, once a week, at the local police court, I presented the city's side of cases that involved people being charged with everything from running stop signs to drunken driving.
My first job gave me a good start and useful preparation for the shifts and changes ahead. A career seems to unfold at its own pace and in its own direction without always being under the absolute control of its owner.
Some of the happiest people I know among my law school classmates took jobs right out of school and worked for the same firm their entire careers. A couple of others became professors at law schools. One fellow who was focused on civil rights had an illustrious career as a tax lawyer. And a woman who wanted to do estate work ended up with a divorce and family law practice.
What I learned from this is that life sends opportunities and challenges our way. And our futures are shaped by how we respond to them.
Sometimes the challenges and opportunities arrive together in unexpected forms, as with a difficult boss. I was surprised and embarrassed as a junior partner when a senior partner I worked with would lecture me on the shortcomings of his fellow partners.
Nevertheless, he was a master in the courtroom, widely recognized for his ability to analyze a situation, identify the heart of the matter, and build a compelling legal argument around that issue. I determined to learn everything I could from him.
In the end, I learned never to treat people the way he did. And I learned how to always set aside my own opinions and preconceptions to look at the matter from the opponent's point of view.
My daughter-in-law, Melinda, told me recently that when our family is vacationing together in the summer and we're sitting around the dinner table talking about an issue, they know in advance how I'm going to respond.
They count on me to reserve judgment and play the devil's advocate, asking them how they arrived at their opinions, how they know their facts are accurate, and if they've considered the matter from the opposite point of view.
There's been some suggestion that somewhere along the way my son adopted a very similar approach.
And so, all in all, I am grateful for the lessons I learned from a man I didn't always admire.
To celebrate my eightieth birthday Trey and Melinda funded a series of scholarships to the University of Washington. They are offered in my name to law school students who commit to going into public service law.
I visit with these young scholars several times a year. They are smart, caring people determined to make a difference in the world. I always come away from those visits inspired by the bold dreams they hope to fulfill as lawyers.
I know lawyers working all over the world who had similar dreams and who are now dedicating their lives to the ideal of equal justice. The powerful impact their work has on the lives of real people is evident in a story I like sharing with other lawyers about a woman named Amina Lawal.
Amina Lawal lived in northern Nigeria, and in 2002 she was at the center of a highly publicized trial in which she was sentenced to death by stoning because she had a baby out of wedlock.
Under sharia law, pregnancy outside marriage constitutes sufficient evidence for a woman to be convicted of adultery. No matter what the circumstances, the punishment can be death.
The man Amina Lawal claimed was the father of her child swore on the Koran that this was not true and he was allowed to go free.
The “crime” and the sentence aroused human rights activists around the world. The American Bar Association rallied lawyers here and abroad. Because of the public outcry that followed, governments pressured Nigeria's leaders to spare Amina Lawal's life. After almost two years of appeals, she was freed and permitted to return to her village to raise her daughter.
I remember reading an article about her written by a reporter at a time when her fate was not yet certain; he interviewed her as she sat holding and rocking her little girl. The reporter asked her if she had any dreams for her daughter's future.
I caught my first fish when I was seven and landed a memory that has lasted a lifetime. Photo, summer, 1932.
She responded by saying that she believed her daughter's destiny was ultimately in the hands of God, but if she had her way, she would like her to be a lawyer.
