Squeaky Volume II

John M. Barron, Jr. (Squeaky) was the son and grandson of two (2) very powerful and talented attorneys.  His grandfather, W.S. Barron, Sr. was Speaker of the Texas House of Representatives in the 1920’s; and later District Judge in Brazos County from 1940 to 1955.

          W.S. or Uncle Stuart as we called him grew up Iola, Texas in Northern Grimes County.   His parents had moved to Texas as children after each family lost their land in Alabama during Reconstruction.

          W.S. was a lifelong “Yellow Dog” Democrat, due at least in part to the misconduct of the Radical Republicans after Appomattox.

          He was extremely successful politically as well as financially due to his drive and work ethic.  He loved raising cattle and acquiring land to run them on.  A deeply religious man, he didn’t drink or smoke yet he was not judgmental about those who did indulge.  He started the original Business Man’s Bible Class and was a founding member of the Central Baptist Church in Bryan.

          His oldest son, John M. Barron, Sr. (known as “John M.”), was also a talented lawyer but enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh.  He had a Hemingway aura about him and was ruggedly handsome and adventurous.  He loved to drink, fight, chase women and gamble as often as possible.  He served as District Attorney and District Judge in Brazos County and served as a Justice on the 14^th Court of Appeals in Houston.

          Like his father W.S., John M. was a tough act to follow.  His relationship with Squeaky was very complicated; being at once protective and abusive towards his eldest son.  It always seemed to me that he favored his younger son David, who was both more volatile and more charming and personable than Squeaky.

          The pressure of living in a small town with a legendary father and iconic grandfather who were both still active in the community was in many ways more than John Jr. could handle.  As a result John was a shy, even withdrawn young man whose only escape was his alcohol and occasional mischief as related in Volume I.

          He attended law school and returned to practice law almost as a duty or obligation rather than a choice.  John Jr. was shortly afterwards appointed County Attorney largely on the strength of his family name.  When he was facing a strong challenger in an election to keep his job; John M. tapped me to be his Campaign Manager.  I will discuss the great Squeaky Campaign of 1978 in the next entry.

Qualified for Death

“Capital murder juries must be "death qualified," meaning anyone who fundamentally disagrees with the death penalty cannot serve. You get a jury of your peers as long as those peers all agree it's okay for the government to kill you.”  http://gritsforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2014/01/no-right-answers-questioning-capital.html

If the tide of public opinion eventually turns and abolitionists are more prevalent than pro-death penalty folks on capital jury panels, will it still be constitutional to insist all jurors be death qualified?

High Crimes? Pondering Colorado, Marijuana, and Murder

The internet is abuzz over legalized recreational marijuana, so I thought I would toss in my two cents. 

It is going to be fascinating to watch what happens in Colorado and Washington State.  My guess is that they will see benefits in not only tourism and tax revenues, but hopefully also a reduction in some violent drug-related crimes. 

In Brazos County, we have had at least four marijuana related murders in the last few years.  In none of the cases did marijuana consumption itself make people behave violently (they weren’t so high that they killed somebody), but the illegal sale or theft of marijuana was a crucial part of each case.

In 2013, Phil Banks and I represented Christopher Hernandez a quiet nineteen year old who was charged with murder along with two other young men after a weed deal went South. Throughout the case I couldn’t help but think whether or not the murder would have happened if marijuana was legalized.  Could the lives of the victim, the three young men charged, and all of their families been saved if possessing weed was not a crime? 

Obviously no one can answer that with certainty, but I am hopeful the Colorado experiment might shed some light on the larger criminal repercussions of decriminalization.     

Reflections of November 22, 1963

That Friday morning I caught a ride to school with my good friend Craig Davis; his Dad, Judge W.C. “Bill” Davis drove us in his green Buick.  The Judge was a “Yellow Dog” Democrat, which wasn’t surprising because in 1963 only Democrats were electable in Brazos County.

Judge Davis always liked to tease me and so he asked me if I was going to the JFK $100.00 a plate fundraiser that night in Austin.  I was much more interested in my first basketball practice that afternoon as a Lamar Bulldog.  I was quite pleased about having “made” the seventh (7^th) grade team after tryouts a week earlier.

I was probably day dreaming about my glorious future as a hoopster when the loudspeaker announcement came about President Kennedy being shot in Dallas.  A few minutes later we were told he was dead.  Everyone was stunned and it seemed like a fog of depression enveloped everyone in the school.

There was one of my classmates who was laughing about the killing (his family was virulently anti-Catholic and therefore anti Kennedy) I was too bewildered to respond at the time, but the next week I was able to pick a fight with him in P.E. class.

It seemed like everyone else, even people who hated JFK, were appalled and saddened by this completely unexpected tragedy.  While my perspective was no doubt influenced by the concurrent onset of my adolescence; it always seemed to me that November 22, 1963 marked the end of an era of innocence and optimism and that things went downhill rapidly into an era of cynicism and fear.  Looking back on the last 50 years of our history I find nothing that changes that perspective.

So let’s say a prayer for JFK and for our Country and hope we can find our way back into the light and optimism that we lost 50 years ago.

A Reminisce of Squeaky

I turned 63 on November 5, 2013 and it was significant in that it was the first November 5^th since I was born that I didn’t share a birthday with my cousin Squeaky, aka John M. Barron, Jr.  Squeaky was an extremely colorful individual both as a youngster and later as a successful attorney.

 

To be perfectly honest, there were times during my adolescence that I tried to downplay my relationship with John Jr. (old Bryan people referred to him as “Squeaky”).  When I studied Anthropology and Sociology in college I started thinking of John Jr. as a contemporary Ancestor.  It always seemed like Squeaky was a step or two closer to the frontier that I was.

 

Squeaky and I had a Speech class together (I was a Sophomore and he was a Senior) at Stephen F. Austin High School.  John was a painfully shy man and to say he was socially awkward would be a massive understatement.  Example, while I was trying to talk to a girl in class another student came up and said “You are kin to Squeaky, Banks can you fart at will the way he can?”

 

Earlier than that I would hear reports that Squeaky had been banished from the Palace and Queen movie theatres due to mischievous and inappropriate conduct.  There were allegations that he had switched the signs on the Men’s and Ladies Restrooms and also that he had dropped quantities of vegetable soup on patrons from the balcony while pretending to be nauseated.

 

There was also a recurring rumor that John Jr. was the BB Sniper who struck repeatedly at night in downtown Bryan.  It was the era of Charles Whitman and Lee Harvey Oswald and the local press labeled the unknown perpetrator as the “BB Sniper.”  To be fair Squeaky always claimed that it wasn’t him although later in life he did have a fondness for firearms.  The true identity of the BB Sniper was never discovered.

 

When I took my Bride (Martha) to her first Aggie Bonfire, we were greeted by a drunk man in a cowboy hat, hitting on a bottle of whisky.  He lost his balance and fell in the mud; as we were helping him up his coat opened and it was clear he had a .38 he was packing in a holster.

 

When he left my Bride said “Philip, how do you know somebody like that?”  I said “That’s my cousin Squeaky.”  She still claims she didn’t meet him until after we tied the knot, but her memory is subject to impeachment.  I will continue this reminiscence in a future blog entry.

  

Don't Mess With a Texan...

A lot of people have questions about whether attorney’s ever really get angry with each other, or if it is all just for show?  The answer to both questions is yes.

Sometimes you strike a posture just to please your client and other times you get really offended at the arrogance and condescension of opposing counsel.  I recently had a case where my client rescued his elderly Uncle from an abusive and neglectful environment in California and brought him back to Texas.

The old man’s wife had been extremely cruel to him and was arrested for elder abuse just before my client’s intervention.  About a month after the rescue, the Uncle passed away in Texas.  Shortly afterwards I got served with a Divorce Petition filed by the wife’s attorney in California.  I sent her the following note:

 

 

To my surprise I got the following letter from a different California lawyer, to wit:

 

I decided to reply in kind and to date I have not had any reply to my response.

 

 

 

 

 

Judge Ken Anderson Resigns Amid Ethics Lawsuit

Texas Tribune Article - Judge Ken Anderson Resigns Amid Ethics Lawsuit

When there is a terrible miscarriage of justice, as there was in the Michael Morton case, it is tempting to want to “put the wood” to those responsible.  While Judge Anderson maintains that “he committed no wrongdoing in the prosecution” of Morton, he is either a complete idiot or he is lying through his teeth.

I vote for the latter.  I once represented a client in front of Judge Anderson and to be honest, he was friendly, competent and fair (he ruled in my client’s favor).  I handled several cases in Georgetown during the Anderson/Bradley era and generally it was like representing Jews in Nazi Germany.

Years ago I was arguing with a young Brazos County Assistant District Attorney who had recently arrived from Williamson County and I made a kidding reference to “Hitler Youth” that he took strong exception to.  In time and I like to think at least in a small part to my influence (ha) he has become a champion of justice.

District Attorneys have an enormous amount of power, literally the power of life and death over the citizens in their jurisdiction.  That power can produce good results or terribly evil results depending on who is wielding it.  D.A.’s are charged not just with obtaining convictions, but to see that justice is done.

Obviously that concept was not adhered to in this case.  I can’t count how many times I have heard prosecutors tell juries to “send them (criminals) a message.”  In this case the best way to send them (prosecutors who are would be practitioners of evil) a message, would be to give Judge Ken Anderson 10 years in prison (the maximum allowed under the Statute).

Considering Mr. Morton was wrongfully held for 25 years that would be a slap on the wrist.

-Phil