Bill Greenhill Remarks, Hon. Joe R. Greenhill, Sr. Memorial Service
February 15, 2011
We are here to celebrate the life and
career of Joe Greenhill. Mom said it best. This is a victory for him. A new beginning. As an Easter hymn puts it:
“Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! The
strife is o’er, the battle is done. The Victory of life is won. The song of
triumph has begun, Alleluia!”
On behalf of the Greenhill family, I
want to welcome all of you and express our appreciation for your being here
with us. Your presence means a great deal to us, especially to Mom. Dad, ever
the humble man, once suggested to Mom that, since he outlived most of his
contemporaries, no one would attend his memorial service. Your being here
proves him wrong. His life and career touched so many more people than his
contemporaries, and your presence confirms that.
Dad, in his notes he left for us in
regard to this service, emphasized brevity at least six or seven times. As
the attorneys here know, Dad put a new meaning to the word “brief” in his
extolling appellate lawyers to make oral arguments and legal briefs, brief,
simple and to the point. How do I, on behalf of Mom and the rest of the family,
say something brief about Dad.
This space has many memories for the
Greenhill’s, baptisms, confirmations, Easter morning services and midnight
Charismas services, Epiphany pageants, and Rev. Charles Sumners
preaching about “the reality of Jesus Christ” from this pulpit with the family
sitting where it is now, first pew center. It is good to see the family where
it belongs.
I served as an acolyte in this Parish.
I thought being a Crucifer was a “big deal.” I got to dress up in an Alb,
wear white gloves, and carry the processional cross during the processional and
recessional hymns. When I assumed the grim position as
Crucifer when coming out into the nave to gather the collection the
plates, Dad would always break my solemnity by making funny faces or hand
motions to make me smile. He entertained Joe Jr and me during the
sermons by making us boats and hats with the service bulletin. That was Dad. No
pretence allowed.
One of the services, in my mind, helps
bring together the essence of what Dad was all about. On October 1, 1957, the
day Dad was sworn in as the then youngest Associate Justice of the Texas
Supreme Court, Dad gathered a group of people, not unlike this one, family,
friends, legal colleagues, judges and other state
officials, to celebrate a another new beginning for Dad as a judge, at a
Corporate Communion in this Church. My brother, Joe, and I were acolytes in
that service. Bishop John Hines, the then Bishop of Texas, celebrated the
Communion service. He gave Dad this Book of Common Prayer. In it Bishop Hines
wrote:
[Read Bishop Hines’ remarks in the
Book of Common Prayer]
The lesson in that service was the
first lesson in this service, a reading in the from
the Prophet Micah. Dad never explicitly told me his Rule of Life. But I believe
that rule can be summed up in the 8th verse of the reading form
Micah:
“He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to
love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”
These were guiding principles for Dad.
I believe he came to a realization of
these principals while serving as Executive Officer on a minesweeper during
World War II. Mom has told us that the only books he had on the ship were the
Bible and the Book of Common Prayer. He read and studied the Bible and
conducted the services for the sailors on the ship from the BCP. He came to
realize, as he told me, that there is no up or down, God is around us in all
times and at all places. He is in control. What really matters in life is
striving for the principals like those written by Micah.
Dad was a kind, gentle man both personally and
professionally.
His main passion in life was his family, and in
particular Mom. Mom was the love of his life and best friend for over 70 years.
On Mom’s desk at home is a larger than life Valentine poster. It reads: “So
you won’t forget, I love you, Valentine.” She was his rock at
all times and in all places. When Governor Daniel called him in 1957 to ask him
if he would accept an appointment to the Texas Supreme Court, the first thing
Dad did was to ask Mom if this were OK. Even though Dad was building a
successful practice with Graves, Dougherty, and Greenhill and both of them knew
the appointment would mean financial sacrifices, Mom asked Dad if this is
something he really wanted to do. He answered, “There is nothing better than
this.” Dad had never any ambition but to be a justice on the Supreme Court
of Texas. The rest is history. However, later on, when he was given the opportunity
to serve the federal 5th Circuit Court of Appeals, and Dad asked Mom the same
question, this time the answer was “no.” This meant Dad being away from
home to much. Dad agreed. Mom’s and Dad’s love and devotion to each other was a bond made in heaven. As the scripture tells us, they
were one.
Dad was a loving and devoted father and grandfather as
well. He never told any of us what to do. He led us all by his quiet,
unassuming example and trusted our judgment. There was never any question that
he had unconditional love and loyalty for all of us. The only way to get in
trouble with Dad, other than to cross the dignity of the Court,
was to cross Mom or his kids or grand kids. There are many stories about this,
but it is best I not tell them.
My second son, Frank, told me last night that Dad was
his first fishing buddy. Indeed, Dad and Mom took each of my sons, Duke, Frank,
and Joe V, on a special trip; Duke to DC, and Joe to San Antonio
(including a visit to see the mermaids below the glass bottom boats in
San Marcus). Frank, our outdoorsman, wanted to go fishing, something Dad did
not particularly like to do. Dad took him to a lake owned by Tom Philips, a
close friend of Dad’s and partner at Baker Botts. Dad
fell out of the boat trying to untie a line in a tree. This is a treasure of a
memory for Frank, and we all have such memories.
Dad had real passion for the law and the justice it
brings. To this end, the he strongly believed that the opinions he wrote should
not only contain sound and succinct reasoning but also holdings that were
unequivocal. Many of you have read some of his opinions. I think you will agree
that each one of them is succinct, well-reasoned, and the holding is
unequivocal. You may not have agreed with his opinions, but you understood them.
Dad hand wrote each opinion. A favorite place for him to draft was on the
breakfast table in our den, chewing on his Honduran cigar. Dad often gave
drafts of his opinions to me to read when I was in high school. His audience was
not an intellectual crowd, but practitioners who would have to deal with his
opinions.
Another of Dad's passions was professionalism in the
legal community. He made speeches about where our profession is going in regard
to billable hours, the greed it can encourage, and the danger of legislative
intervention. But the passion for professionalism goes further than that and, I
believe, is symbolized by his relationship with Justice Thurgood
Marshall. As most of you know, Dad tried and went to the U.S. Supreme Court in
the case Sweatt v. Painter. Thurgood Marshall was his opposing counsel, representing
the NAACP. Dad defended the State of Texas in a case in which he did personally
agree with the position he had to take. But he did his job, and he did it well.
We lawyers have all been in this position. He and we do our duty to the client.
He and Justice Marshall became lifelong friends and they treated each other
with upmost dignity and respect.
Joe Greenhill epitomized what it means to be a professional.
There has never been anything stuffy about Dad. He was
Associate Justice and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Texas. But he
answered his own telephone at the Court and never put on any pretenses. Anxious
law school graduates would call the Chief Justice Office to find out Bar Exam
grades. To their surprise, Dad would sometimes be the voice on the phone, and
he would find out the grade.
A former law clerk, Steve Hayes, an appellate lawyer
in Fort Worth, revealed this story to me this week: Steve remembered, when his Briefing Attorney
class came up with a list of sarcastic “writ refused” designations (e.g., “Writ
Ref’d., T.T.” [Writ Refused, Too Tired]). Steve saw
him reading the list in the hall outside his office with a slight smile on his face.
Steve told him he hoped it didn’t offend, as the Clerks had done it in good
humor. Dad looked up, motioned Steve into his library study, sat down at his
desk, opened the drawer and pulled out a writ stamp that read “Writ Ref’d., [*][1].” Still smiling, he said the
Court had that one custom made for a lawyer who took particularly vitriolic aim
at the Court in a petition.
Larry York’s remarks give you the full flavor about
Dad’s ability to be quite serious about his position but not to take himself too seriously.
“He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does
the LORD require of you But to do justice, to love
kindness, And to walk humbly with your God?"
This is what Joe Greenhill stood for. This is his
lasting legacy.
I want to close with a part of the
“Great Thanksgiving” or Eucharistic Prayer found in our 1928 Book of Common
Prayer, for this is indeed an occasion of a great thanksgiving and celebration
for the life and career of Joe Greenhill.
Let us pray:
“Heavenly Father, we bless thy holy name for thy servants departed this life in thy faith and fear; beseeching thee to grant them continual growth in thy love and service and to grant us grace to as to follow their good examples, that with them we may be partakers of the heavenly kingdom. Grant this, O Father, for Jesus Christ’s sake, our only Mediator and Advocate. Amen.”