In Memoriam – William H. Murphy Sr.

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My father, Judge William H. Murphy Sr., was an elegant, principled and courageous man. Shaped by a strong family, a vibrant black community, the Great Depression, and a society that, for most of his life, consistently sought to devalue him as a black man, he was driven to greatness and to be a lifelong evangelist for excellence, ambition, high achievement and justice in the black community.

Three generations of Murphys: Judge William H. Murphy Sr., center, holds his namesake while his father, George B. Murphy Sr., looks on.

Paradoxically, his life-long battles with the doctrine of white supremacy compelled him to be meticulously fair as a judge to people of all races, creeds, genders and backgrounds. Being segregated for most of his life in the black community caused him to experience and understand the dignity of people from all walks of life and all levels of income. In Baltimore during the ’20s and ’30s, black people of all economic strata were forced to live in certain neighborhoods without access to better housing and broader economic opportunities. Black doctors, pharmacists, businessmen, waiters, porters, teachers, industrial workers and domestics lived side by side and socialized freely across class and educational lines. Role models abounded; and my father was exposed to all kinds of black people and every level of black society, including the great depth of political thought that existed in the black community during this era. Because black people of high educational attainment were unable to get jobs in the larger society, many were forced to become educators, and my father benefited from their great depth and over-qualification. His father, George B. Murphy Sr., was a schoolteacher at Douglass High School who became a school principal, and his oldest sister likewise became an educator. Like many black families of the era, his was dedicated to excellence in speech, education, deportment and traditional values. He came from a black community dedicated to tearing down the barriers and diminution of opportunities created by white male supremacy. That dedication became his life passion. Angered by an offerBecause Johns Hopkins and University of Maryland were out of bounds for a black man, he attended Oberlin College after graduating from segregated Douglass High School. Although he was admitted to Harvard Law School in 1939, the national and local civil rights movement needed black men to break the color barrier at the University of Maryland School of Law. He wanted to attend Harvard until angered by an offer from Chancellor Ralph “Curly” Byrd to pay him a full scholarship to Harvard to prevent him from attending the University of Maryland School of Law. He became the third black to be admitted in the 20th century.His tenure at Maryland was interrupted when he was drafted into a segregated army in 1941 during World War II. After serving in north Africa and being promoted to 2nd lieutenant, he was sent back to the United States to serve as a counter-intelligence officer in the OSS. After being discharged in 1945 and moving back to Baltimore, he angered the Murphy clan, first by moving to Turner Station in the Day Village Housing Project and then by moving to the Cherry Hill Homes, where poverty was the entrance requirement.

Judge William H. Murphy Sr. was elected to Baltimore’s Municipal Court in 1970, the second black man in Maryland to hold such a seat.

Rather than seeking a job at the Baltimore Afro-American Newspaper, which had been founded by his grandfather in the 1890s, and which was regarded as a bulwark of the civil rights movement, he wanted to practice law and raise his children among the poor so that they would not develop the class prejudices he despised in the upper echelon of black society. He wanted his children to understand that all people were the same except as they were shaped by forces beyond their control and he wanted them to develop a passion to help the neediest members of the community.‘Decidedly left of center’Because of his family’s deep and abiding commitment to the civil rights movement since the turn of the century, Judge Murphy had been exposed to the towering black leaders of his era and knew many of them because they frequently visited his home. However, he and his brother George B. Murphy Jr. were not satisfied that black leadership was effectively translating its message to black poor and working-class people. He developed a political philosophy which was decidedly left of center and internationalist in orientation. Although his brother George B. was a Marxist, Judge Murphy eschewed that political thinking and became a member of the progressive wing of the Democratic Party, campaigning for Henry Wallace for president in 1948. Thereafter, he was involved in every local and national election until he became a judge in 1970. He ran for local political office on numerous occasions before successfully unseating Judge Avrum K. Riffman, an incumbent municipal court judge, in a hotly contest election. In the meantime, he required his wife Madeline and his five children to work in every political campaign literally from the time we could walk and talk.When I was growing up, my father and my mother (who was deeply influenced by my father’s political orientation) required us to participate in door-to-door politics both in Cherry Hill and in the surrounding black communities. My mother was also a frequent political candidate and all of my brothers and sisters were involved in my parents’ political campaigns and community activities. Pop and Mom perpetually organized the Cherry Hill community and were deeply involved in the political life of that neighborhood. Consequently, my father developed a working-class law practice and became enormously successful because of his community participation, character, commitment, ability and reliability. Almost all of his clients hired him as their very first black lawyer and he would regale me with tales of their reluctance to do so because of their fear and because of the “Calhoun” image of the black lawyer that had been fostered by white media. His impeccable manners and courtesy endeared him to his clientele, the Cherry Hill community, the black community, and ultimately, to the community at large. Warrior mentalityBecause of his depression-era upbringing, Judge Murphy steadfastly believed in saving and investing his money so that his family would always be secure. His devotion to his family was complete; no matter what he was doing in his law practice, he would interrupt his work to appear at the dinner table every day at 6 o’clock. Having dinner with his wife and children gave him repeated opportunities to inculcate us to become warriors in the service of the black community and to instill in us the traditional values that he held dear.

The Murphys of Cherry Hill: Judge Murphy ‘wanted to practice law and raise his children among the poor so that they would not develop the class prejudices he despised in the upper echelon of black society,’ his oldest son writes.

His approach to us at dinner was unyielding, stern and meticulous. He would probe us deeply to share our experiences and motivate us to handle our dealings with others with excellence, courage and conviction. Independence was his watchword and he relentlessly indoctrinated us to be independent as thinkers and as economic entities. Particularly, as the end of the era of school segregation approached in the early ’50s, he and my mother relentlessly prepared us to compete in the hostile white environment that awaited us. I vividly remember my preparation to attend the formerly all-white Robert E. Lee School No. 49, an accelerated school that provided three years of junior high school in two years. My crusty white racist music teacher insisted that her 46 students (which included only five blacks) sing “Old Black Joe,” a traditional song that extolled the virtues of black chattel slavery. I had been trained well enough to understand how insulting this was and confronted her by refusing to sing it, much to the consternation and fear of my fellow black classmates (one of whom pulled the back of my coat in a vain effort to make me sit down and shut up). I reported this confrontation to my father at dinner and exhorted him to come to my aid by visiting the school to prevent retaliation and to give her a piece of his mind. “No,” said my father. “You are perfectly capable of handling this situation all by yourself with my guidance.” An argument ensued which, of course, I lost; and the next day I fearfully set out to confront my music teacher again. But before class, I followed my father’s advice to shame my four black classmates into backing me up; and the five of us successfully prevented the song by threatening to walk out of the classroom and start more trouble. That evening at dinner, I triumphantly reported this success to my father, mother, sister Madeline and my brothers, Arthur and Houston. With my father and mother’s encouragement, I became involved in numerous other similar confrontations during my subsequent school years and during my political and legal career.This warrior mentality was integral to my father’s philosophy because he believed that evil should be relentlessly confronted and that cowardice should be despised. During his legal career he himself had relentlessly confronted unfairness and evil in the legal system. In 1951, for example, he defended his brother, George B., who had been hauled before the notorious House on Un-American Activities Committee. His defense strategy was to confront the members of the Committee with their consistent record of anti-black voting, and he meticulously prepared for the hearing by uncovering every anti-black vote cast by each member of the Committee. He completely disrupted the hearing with this tactic and forced its early adjournment. It was no wonder that George B. was never again questioned by the Committee. Again in 1951, he courageously defended a white woman who refused to sign a loyalty oath as a condition for her employment by state government and took the case to the Supreme Court of the United States, where, after argument, he engineered a compromise with the Attorney General of Maryland that permitted the woman to gain state employment. It is difficult for us now to imagine that he undertook these representations at the risk of being disbarred, vilified, and discredited in an era where all most no white lawyers had the courage to undertake similar representation.

Paul L. Chester (court clerk) and Milton B. Allen (state’s attorney) joined Murphy, right, on a successful all-black ticket in the September 1970 primary.

More important, he took my sister Madeline and me to watch his Supreme Court argument to inspire us to similar achievement. In 1953, he represented the Cumberland Seven, a group of Maryland whites who were accused of being members of the Communist Party, and he represented Alger Hiss in the aftermath of his conviction for espionage. He represented scores of black people from all walks of life who were ensnared in the legal system, and he became known for his hard-hitting confrontational style. Economic success followed as he had predicted. He always believed that black people would support him if he did the right thing and stood up to the white establishment. He knew, however, that he would ultimately pay a heavy price for his politics. In 1965 the Grievance Committee of the Baltimore City Bar Association unsuccessfully attempted to have him disbarred. Although this unfair attempt caused him great emotional distress (mainly because of the threat to the well-being of his family), he was undaunted. His political activities increased, culminating in his successful election to the bench in 1970.Firebrand to benchHis judicial career was a remarkable counterpoint to his firebrand image as a lawyer because although he remained as committed to justice as ever before, he now had the power to make it happen. His philosophy about power was simple: he who used the least amount of power to accomplish justice governed the wisest.Judge Murphy’s record of judicial service was nothing short of remarkable; and a good case can be made that he was one of the most popular — if not the most popular, judge in Maryland during his 32 years of judicial service. According to Judge Robert Sweeney, the former chief judge of the District Court, Judge Murphy received more laudatory letters and comments during his tenure than any other judge. Indeed, after his retirement in 1987, the Court of Appeals of Maryland continued to appoint him to sit as a retired judge until he stepped down in February of this year. Judge Murphy was in demand all over the state because court personnel, prosecutors, and lawyers of all stripes were always glad to see him on the bench. They knew he would be unflaggingly courteous and unfailingly fair. Although his decisions were sure to displease one side or the other (as is the case with every judge), lawyers and litigants respected Judge Murphy because of his fairness and wisdom. He was also known as a judge’s judge because of his easy accessibility to his colleagues, his wise counsel and his willingness to help them no matter what the situation. He had no tolerance for judicial colleagues he perceived as racially prejudiced, and his private conversations with them became widely known and deeply feared. On the other hand, as he grew older, these conversations became more leavened with humor and compassion and thus more effective. One confrontation in particular stands out. There was an Irish Catholic Judge who sat on the municipal court and became a member of the District Court when it was created in 1971 who was notoriously prejudiced towards black people. My father confronted him in his chambers and demanded that he treat blacks fairly. When the judge responded that this was none of his business and that, in any event, there was nothing he could do about it, Judge Murphy coolly responded, “Yes, I can. All I need to do is treat all of the Irish Catholic defendants before me the way you treat black people.” The judge’s response was telling: “You wouldn’t dare!” My father merely smiled and said, “You just told on yourself
, didn’t you?”

Judge William H. Murphy Sr. and his wife, Madeline Wheeler Murphy, who survives him.

My observation was that this judge’s behavior changed significantly. Courtesy and civility were Judge Murphy’s watchwords and he brooked no disrespect by the litigants towards each other and absolutely none towards the court. However, he never held a lawyer in contempt because he was rarely treated disrespectfully and because his power emanated from a perception of his profound sense of fairness and justice, not from legal authority. Up to the endMy father and I were exceptionally close because I was his first child, we shared the same profession, we had similar passions, we loved what we did, and he was proud of my career. Up until the end, we were in constant touch, and our conversations inevitably turned to law and politics. In 1998, I suspected — incorrectly as it turned out — that my father was beginning to decline. I was defending Don King in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York and invited him to attend a few court sessions so that I could check him out. During that visit, he became deeply involved in a conversation about the case with my co-counsel Peter Fleming, a distinguished and storied member of the New York bar who had defended the likes of Nixon’s Attorney General John Mitchell, investment mogul Michael Milken, investment firm Drexel Burnham Lambert, and other high-profile public figures and companies. After a thorough discussion of the issues in the case, Peter asked my father what he thought was going to happen. My father gave a detailed and extraordinary legal analysis of the case and correctly predicted that we would end up in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit at least three times before trial. You could have knocked me over with a feather; and Peter, who knew my concern, laughed uproariously!During the last year of his life Judge Murphy suffered a series of increasingly serious strokes, the next to last forcing him to step down in February. For the months that followed, he was reflective about his life and knew that the end was near. Confined to a wheel chair, he faced death with a twinkle in his eye and with the strength and character he had exhibited all his life, secure in the knowledge that he had done the best that he could to serve his fellow human beings and that he had left a rich legacy of children and grandchildren who were committed to excellence and public service. Because of my father’s life and guidance, I have never been an agnostic or an atheist. His mere existence is proof positive of the existence of God because only a wise and merciful Supreme Being could create such a man. I shall always miss him.