THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, April 13, 1995 TAG: 9504130003
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A14 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Another View
SOURCE: By TONY STEIN
LENGTH: Medium: 81 lines
The recent editorial about the judicial reforms initiated by U.S. District Judge Walter E. Hoffman paid well-deserved compliments to a man whose integrity and sense of humor have graced the federal bench in Norfolk for more than four decades.
I was fortunate enough to experience that integrity and sense of humor at close hand from a front-row seat in Hoffman's courtroom during years I spent as a reporter for The Ledger-Star. It was in the late 1950s, when Hoffman presided over the lawsuit that led to integration of Norfolk's public schools.
Looking back, I think it would be hard for young people to grasp the intensity of the opposition to allowing blacks to attend all-white Norfolk schools. Anyone who spoke publicly in favor of integration was a sure target for harassment and vilification. And many of the harshest words were aimed point-blank at Walter Hoffman.
At the top of the federal legal system, the Supreme Court had ruled that segregated schools were unconstitutional. Then the ruling filtered down to district judges like Hoffman. It was in the district courtrooms, the local courtrooms, where local judges - hometown boys, if you will - put the law into action.
Or else they passed the buck. A lot of Southern judges did. They fished frantically for an excuse to rule against integration or delay it. They knew their rulings would be appealed and that higher federal courts would reverse them. No matter. They could tell their friends at the country club ``Hey, y'all, I ruled right but those so-and-so appeals judges wouldn't go along. It's not my fault.''
Not Hoffman. His attitude was the mental equivalent of that famous Harry Truman sign, ``The Buck Stops Here.'' The buck stopped at Hoffman's bench. Time and again, he made clear that his duty as a district judge was to follow the will of the Supreme Court. He could have taken the more comfortable path, as many other judges did. He didn't.
And he paid mightily for it. He got hate mail and vicious phone calls. Some former friends backed away from him. Politicians, busy courting votes, denounced him as a tyrant. One of them was Harry Byrd, the revered Virginia senator. I do not revere him. Here's why:
Byrd made a speech in Norfolk during the height of the integration crisis. He used the speech as a platform to completely misrepresent a statement Hoffman had made. Both I and another reporter, Frank Blackford, had heard Hoffman and knew Byrd was wrong.
Byrd's words were Virginia gospel at the time. If he made an accusation, it was treated as truth, fairly or unfairly. So Blackford and I contacted the senator and suggested that he might want to set the record straight. We got a cold note back saying that the senator had his own sources of information and he chose to rely on them. In essence, damn the truth. Full political speed ahead.
With all the tension and pressure, Hoffman never lost the sense of humor I took note of. A couple of my favorite memories have to do with the fact that he was a portly man. One day, he handed me a copy of a very controversial ruling he was making and said, ``Well, the fat's in the fire.'' Then he reflected a minute and added, ``In more ways than one.''
And there was another time when I wrote a story about him and the words ``the judge'' came out ``the pudge.'' I went to his chambers to apologize for the error, and he said ``Don't worry. Truth is the best defense for libel.''
Humor aside, I saw Hoffman during the integration crisis as a man with a solid core of integrity. One moment suspended in memory underscores that. It was the day he had to make yet another unpopular ruling; had to unleash yet another flood of angry words directed at him. He said to a hushed courtroom, ``I will do my duty if it costs me my last friend on Earth.''
Reporters are supposed to be cynical; they are not free with the word ``hero.'' But at a time when he put duty before personal feelings, Walter Hoffman was a hero to me. When he made that terse statement of unyielding principle, it was a moment of greatness I have never forgotten.The recent editorial about the judicial reforms initiated by U.S. District Judge Walter E. Hoffman paid well-deserved compliments to a man whose integrity and sense of humor have graced the federal bench in Norfolk for more than four decades. MEMO: Mr. Stein resides in Chesapeake.
by CNB