Personal Reflections on the Chief

On February 1, 1952, a young man, then recently graduated from the Stanford Law School, completed a long drive from Wisconsin in his 1941 Studebaker and reported to Washington, D.C. as a law clerk to Justice Robert H. Jackson. It was, as this young lawyer would later put it, "a highly prized position; I was surprised to have been chosen for it, and certainly I did not want to be late."' I know the feeling. I was more than surprised in June 1995 when by then Chief Justice Rehnquist invited me to interview for a law clerk position in his chambers. And I also approached the interview with, in his words, fear and trembling, all too aware that the opportunity owed much to a large element of luck. Later, the Chiefs incomparably able assistants Janet and Laverne would needle me for having arrived at the Court such a mess. I can only imagine how nasty I looked and how disheveled in appearance and mind I seemed, and was, as I waited, sweating horribly from the combined effects of the D.C. heat and my one still-unfamiliar lawyer suit. Here is how the Chief remembered his own interview with Justice Jackson in his book, The Supreme Court. The Chief wrote, I met with the Justice in one of the faculty offices, and his pleasant and informal demeanor at once put me at ease. After a few general questions about my background and legal education, he asked me whether my last name was Swedish. When I told him that it was, he began to reminisce about some of the Swedish clients he had had while practicing law in upstate New York. I genuinely enjoyed these anecdotes, but somehow I felt I should be doing more to make a favorable impression on him. He, however, seemed quite content to end the interview with a courteous thanks for my having come by, and I walked out of the room convinced that he had written me off as a total loss in the first minutes of our visit.2 Again, I know the feeling. I remember the Chief greeting me quite casually, very much on time, in short sleeves and showing me matter-of-factly around his chambers, which were decorated with romantic landscapes that were on loan from the Gallery and pictures of his friends and his law clerks. We had what I am sure he tried to make a relaxed and friendly conversation about my childhood in Alaska, his law practice in Arizona, and our hitchhiking strategies-we both had spent some time hitchhiking, and we agreed that signs saving you were going to a family-friendly-sounding kind of place were good for getting picked up. And, we talked about my work in the death penalty context. I had represented some prisoners on death row, which I had been told by friends was going to be the kiss of death with the Chief. But he didn't seem to mind at all. I asked him about practical jokes he had played as a junior Justice. I had done a book report on The Brethren when I was in high school and had thought, "Now that's the guy who's cool because he's playing jokes on the Chief Justice." Then, he asked me if I had any questions and, because I thought this would be my only chance, I said that I would like to see the basketball court on the top floor of the building. He was happy to oblige. Well, I had been warned that these interviews did not last long, but when the Chief said "thanks" after about ten minutes, I started working in my mind on this speech that I was going to give my friends about how it was just great to have had the chance to interview. But then he remarked off-handedly that he had had a clerk from every state but Alaska. I remembered that his own connection with the frozen north of Sweden had helped him in his own clerkship interview, and so I figured maybe my connection with Alaska would help me. And so it did. The Chief never forgot what it was like to arrive at the Court as a slightly awestruck and appropriately apprehensive law clerk. He never lost a sense of gratitude to the Court and to Justice Jackson for an opportunity to learn and to serve in that building. …