by Jim Stovall
Seated to Paul’s right was my other bailiff, Jim. If Paul is imposing and intimidating, Jim is accommodating and a calming presence everywhere he goes. He seems to understand people at a deep level and be able to communicate with them. I have seen him over the years subdue many angry litigants with nothing more than a calming smile and a kind word.
Across the table from the bailiffs and seated directly to my left was my longtime court reporter, Scott. As we were preparing to eat our lunch, Scott was organizing all of his pills and various medications that he constantly took for his ongoing fight with cancer. When we all heard that Scott had been diagnosed with cancer, everyone was devastated and distraught. Everyone except for Scott, that is. He has shown a grace, a dignity, and a perseverance that has kept me in constant awe.
As we began to eat, the discussion flowed from our families to sports and even politics. We shared many common emotions and experiences as a result of being in the constant firing line together inside the courtroom. In a way that would be hard to explain, it is almost like we have been to war together. We trust each other and understand each other at a deep and significant level.
As my three colleagues were bantering back and forth in a good-natured way, I sat back—along with Judge Eldridge above me—and simply enjoyed being in their company.
As our luncheon time drew to an end and the afternoon’s session in court loomed, my thoughts returned to Red Stevens and his words about the unique and wonderful nature of family. As I pushed away from the table, I realized that—right here in this special room around this special table—we had somehow formed our own family.
Back in the courtroom, I called the proceedings to order and directed my comments toward L. Myron Dudly and the Stevens family.
“The court does, indeed, appreciate the arguments of counsel for the Stevens family and agrees that Jason Stevens has little or no experience in what anyone would define as a traditional family.”
Murmurs of excitement rocketed through that side of the courtroom as the family anticipated victory.
“On the other hand, after reviewing Red Stevens’ thoughts and beliefs surrounding The Gift of Family, a wonderful, natural family experience—while priceless—is not necessary.”
I glanced toward Jason and Hamilton across the aisle and ruled. “This court finds that, while unique and unconventional, Jason Stevens has demonstrated an understanding of The Gift of Family as defined by Red Stevens. He will be given the customary thirty days to demonstrate his ability to pass this gift on to other people in need of all the things family can bring.”
During the next month, I thought about the concept of family in new ways. I was more thankful for my biological family and more aware of and grateful for my work family and the other people who make my life so special.
Jason was back on the stand, and Hamilton had directed him to explain his actions during the last month surrounding helping others understand The Gift of Family.
Jason explained, “I thought a long time about different people I have come in contact with who need the things family can bring. The kids at the Saturday School in the park don’t all have good home lives, but Tom and everyone at the Saturday School seem to be beginning to fill in that role. The single moms have been struggling for a stable family life, but the day-care co-op and the things they are doing together are really making a difference. So, I decided to focus on the seven families Alexia and I helped who had lost or were losing children.
“Since last month, we’ve been contacted about even more families facing that horrible situation. We organized a brief and informal support-group session so that the pain, the joy, and the lessons learned could be spread among all the hurting families.
“It went over really well, so we are going to make it a monthly event. A lot of the families who lost children a number of months ago are able to begin helping those who are just beginning to face the reality of the struggles before them. These families who are being torn apart are able to come together and begin to find a way to try and fill the tremendous void left behind in a family when a child is gone.”
Hamilton had no further questions and turned it over to Mr. Dudly.
Dudly inquired, “Are any of these people related in any way?”
“No,” Jason responded. “Not other than the fact that they are sharing the same pain and suffering.”
“So, really,” Dudly questioned, “you have possibly started a successful support group and, as worthwhile as this may be, how can you call this a family?”
Jason paused for several seconds then spoke with conviction. “My grandfather believed, and I believe, that a family is nothing more or less than people in our lives that provide the love, support, and encouragement that we all want and need from a family.”
Dudly dismissed Jason and spoke directly to me before I made my ruling.
Dudly pleaded, “Your Honor, this court must rule on behalf of my clients on this point of law as it pertains to The Gift of Family outlined in Red Stevens’ last will and testament. While Mr. Jason Stevens may be accomplishing some laudable work, it could not in any way be called or defined as helping people with The Gift of Family.
“These people …” Dudly pointed toward his side of the courtroom. “… are family in every sense of the word, and they deserve to be recognized as such by having this court restore their family assets to them.”
I thanked Mr. Dudly for presenting his motion, nodded in thanks to Mr. Hamilton, and spoke for the record.
“The court agrees that Jason Stevens has not been working in an area that would generally be defined as family. It does not meet the legal definition of family as well; however, it does meet Red Stevens’ definition of family as he intended it for his grandson in The Gift of Family. This court rules in favor of Jason Stevens and will be recessed until 10:00 a.m. tomorrow when we consider The Gift of Laughter.”
It is impossible to experience fear, hate,
or defeat when we are laughing.
Nine
THE LIFE OF LAUGHTER
After the final decision on The Gift of Family, I returned to my chambers to clean up a bit of paperwork. I was going to stay downtown at the court building and wait for my hot dinner date for the evening to arrive. Marie and I feel that our relationship has stayed as fun and exciting as it was in the beginning because we talk and go out on dates just like we did from the start.
I had almost completed the voluminous pile of paperwork the clerks had placed before me when Marie came through the mahogany door.
She smiled and said, “Your Honor, you’d better be on your best behavior this evening, because I have another offer.”
I smiled and inquired, “What kind of offer are we talking about?”
“Well,” she explained, “when I came into the court building, there was a new guard on duty downstairs, and he didn’t know me. I told him I was here for a dinner date, and he said he would be off in forty-five minutes if I wouldn’t mind waiting.”
I pounded on my ridiculous judicial desk as if using my gavel and exploded in mock anger, “I’ll have that man’s job!”
Marie laughed raucously and said, “Your Honor, I don’t think you’d make a good guard, and I don’t think anyone would trust you with a loaded weapon. You’d better stick with this judge gig you’ve got going here.”
Marie asked me how my day in court had gone, so I told her all about the Stevens’ case and The Gift of Family.
Marie asked, “So what’s next on that case?”
I explained that in the morning we would be looking into The Gift of Laughter that Red Stevens had outlined for Jason in his last will and testament.
Marie was curious and asked how I knew exactly what Red Stevens wanted for his grandson. I told her about the videos that Red had made to deliver the various gifts to Jas
on after Red’s death.
Marie asked, “How does that work exactly?”
I considered for a minute, picked up the DVD marked The Gift of Laughter, and replied, “Well, I’ll show you. Or better yet, Red Stevens will show you.”
I slid the disk into the player, and Red Stevens appeared. I pressed pause so I could get back to my chair, and Marie could settle into one of my guest chairs.
She stared at Red Stevens on the screen and asked, “How long before his death was this video made?”
“As I understand it, it was completed just a few weeks before his passing,” I responded.
Marie thought aloud, “It’s really rather sad that someone has to talk to a video camera instead of their grandson when they’re so near the end of life.”
I considered her perspective then said, “It’s sad, but I believe Red knew that this was the only way he had a chance of reaching Jason.”
As silence fell over my chambers, I finally pushed play, and Red shared his thoughts and feelings with Jason.
“This month, you are going to learn about The Gift of Laughter. The Gift of Laughter I want you to learn about is not a comedian in a nightclub or a funny movie. It is the ability to look at yourself, your problems, and life in general and just laugh. Many people live unhappy lives because they take things too seriously. I hope you have learned in the last six months that there are things in life to be serious about and to treasure, but life without laughter is not worth living.
“This month, I want you to go out and find one example of a person who is experiencing difficulties or challenges in his or her life but who maintains the ability to laugh. If a person can laugh in the face of adversity, that individual will be happy throughout life.”
Marie and I walked arm-in-arm out of the court building, through the urban park, and toward our favorite Greek restaurant. We remembered times past, both good and bad, and laughed at them all. Some of the worst times we had experienced financially, and the hardships we endured, now just seem petty and humorous. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner and listened to the life-affirming Greek music provided by a strolling violinist.
Near the end of the evening, I excused myself and went to the restroom. I returned shortly and slipped back into my place at the table. I will never in my life figure out how she did it, but when I looked across at Marie, she lowered her dessert menu and there before me sat my beloved bride wearing a giant rubber nose, a goofy fake mustache, and ridiculous comedy glasses.
She said with total dignity and solemnity, “Your Honor, may it please the court, this is your Gift of Laughter.”
I heard Paul intone the always-familiar “All rise.”
I made my way up the three stairs as I had done countless thousands of times. I often thought I could do this in my sleep if ever called upon to do so. I settled into my chair and pounded the gavel, calling the court to order. I realized that there needed to be a certain amount of pomp and circumstance surrounding my duties as a judge, but Marie’s Gift of Laughter was still in my memory, so it was hard to take myself too seriously.
I greeted Mr. Hamilton and asked him to open the proceedings. He steered Jason through his testimony of how Red Stevens had required Jason to go out and find someone who was experiencing struggles or difficulty in their life but dealt with it through laughter. Jason explained how he had met his friend David Reese, a blind young man, who dealt with his blindness and everything else in life through his humor.
Mr. Hamilton dismissed Jason, who stepped down from the stand, then Hamilton called on David Reese to testify.
A handsome young man wearing dark glasses and using a white cane moved confidently and quickly toward the witness stand. He tapped his cane on the one step up into the witness box and then negotiated it deftly. He slid into the witness chair, and my bailiff, Jim, asked him to place his hand on the Bible. David Reese did so and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, then Theodore J. Hamilton approached and said, “Hello, Mr. Reese. Thank you for being here today.”
David Reese smiled and said, “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Hamilton. In fact, as I always say, it’s good to see anybody.”
Tentative laughter could be heard filtering through the courtroom.
David continued. “I don’t know who designed that step up into the witness box, but I’ll bet it wasn’t a blind guy.”
David faced directly toward Hamilton and said, “Another great tie, Mr. Hamilton. How many of those do you have?”
The laughter built and rose pleasantly in my courtroom until Dudly shouted, “Your Honor, we most vigorously object to this slapstick comedy routine that opposing counsel has obviously orchestrated.”
“I didn’t know we had an orchestra,” David shot back. He asked, “And who is this guy? Is he with the string section?”
Dudly became indignant and announced, “Young man, I am L. Myron Dudly of Dudly, Cheetham, and Leech.”
David laughed and quipped, “Wow, people like you are hard on a poor blind guy like me trying to spread a little cheer. I have to work at making people laugh at me, and it just comes naturally to you.”
The laughter roared about us, and David Reese asked, “Is that your real name, or did you hire comedy writers?”
I chuckled, myself, but finally had to pound my gavel and call for order.
I addressed David Reese. “Mr. Reese, while your humor may be a breath of fresh air here in my courtroom, and even though we are exploring The Gift of Laughter, I will have to ask you to confine yourself to the questions addressed to you by counsel.”
David Reese smiled innocently, shrugged his shoulders, and nodded, saying, “Good enough. Let’s do this thing.”
Hamilton resumed questioning. “Mr. Reese, is it true that as a result of Jason Stevens’ search for The Gift of Laughter as directed by Red Stevens, he met you on a subway train?”
“Yes, sir, that is correct-a-mundo.”
Dudly began to rise, and I glared at him, motioning for him to be seated.
Hamilton continued. “From that time to this, have you formed a relationship with Jason Stevens?”
David nodded and said, “Absolutely.”
“What is the nature of your relationship?” Hamilton inquired.
“Well, we’re friends. We get together from time to time and talk on the phone a lot. Jason met with me and some of my students at the school for the blind just recently. We know different people and move in different circles, so we kind of exchange jokes with one another. When I see something funny—no pun intended—or Jason finds something good, we share it.”
“And why is humor important in your life?” Hamilton asked.
David Reese sighed deeply and was serious for the first time that day. “Sometimes laughter and my humor is all I have. Being blind can be depressing and unbelievably difficult. People don’t know how to deal with you, and they’re afraid of saying or doing something wrong, so they just avoid you. But laughter is the universal language. It’s just like here in the courtroom today. I’m sure a lot of people were nervous and didn’t know what to think when I walked up here wearing my shades and using my white cane. But a couple of jokes later, and we’re all comfortable and, well, we’re just friends.”
Mr. Hamilton thanked David for his appearance and stated, “Your Honor, I have no further questions for this witness.
Mr. Dudly got to his feet and began. “Mr. Reese, do you have any psychological training in your background?”
David laughed and responded, “No, but I have been to a psychologist; however, I was more of the therapee and not the therapist.”
A few chuckles could be heard from the gallery, but Dudly ignored them and continued. “Would you say Jason Stevens has helped you better understand or deal with your situation through laughter?”
David responded, “Jason
is my friend, and we laugh together. We all deal with our own situations, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone who cares enough to share a good laugh.”
David paused and then asked, “Does anyone ever call you Dud?”
I joined in the laughter that overflowed the courtroom. Mr. Dudly was beet red and shaking. He stammered and pointed his finger at me, then Mr. Hamilton, and finally David Reese before he simply sat down. When order was restored, I inquired of Mr. Dudly if he had any further questions. He shook his head vigorously with disgust and busied himself with some paperwork in front of him.
I addressed myself to my court reporter, Scott, saying, “Let the record show that the court finds that Jason Stevens has demonstrated he understands The Gift of Laughter as set forth in the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens. Thirty days from today, we will rule upon Jason Stevens’ ability to share his Gift of Laughter with others. This court stands adjourned.”
In the intervening month, either there were a lot more humorous episodes in my life than normal, or exploring The Gift of Laughter through Red Stevens and Jason had made me more aware of all the opportunities to enjoy laughter.
“Let the record show that today the court will be ruling on the matter pertaining to Red Stevens’ last will and testament relating to Jason Stevens’ ability to pass on The Gift of Laughter.”
I waved toward Theodore J. Hamilton and asked, “Mr. Hamilton, can you get the ball rolling for us here this morning?”
“I would be pleased to, Your Honor.”
Hamilton waved Jason toward the witness stand. Jason settled in, and Hamilton inquired, “Jason, in the last month, have you had an opportunity to pass along The Gift of Laughter that your grandfather shared with you?”
