William Wayne Justice was a giant in Texas history. Working in an hostile, conservative district, he preserved civil rights, equal justice and opportunities for the worst off, for over 40 years. Judge Justice -- and his last name is indeed 'Justice' -- was a legend in his own time. Texan state officials and conservatives despised him. Yet his legal activism forever changed the lives of millions of schoolchildren, prisoners, minorities, immigrants and people with disabilities in Texas. He chose to ignore the many death threats, mountains of hate mail and cold shoulders from strangers and close neighbors alike.
He was a slight, humble man with a lopsided grin who worked out regularly at the YMCA -- he was so despised by many Texans that bumper stickers called him the "most hated man in Texas." Thirty of his more than 40 years as a federal judge were spent in the small town of Tyler, where more than 10,000 of the 65,000 residents signed a petition to try to have him impeached. Repair people refused to work on his home, and when he entered a restaurant, other patrons walked out.
Justice was at the top of the list of so-called activist judges who, as a general group, are often accused by former President George W. Bush and other legal conservatives of interpreting the U.S. Constitution too expansively. But Justice took to heart a U.S. Supreme Court ruling in 1958 that, in essence, the Constitution and its amendments are "not static" and must draw "meaning from the evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society."
In his first case, he ordered education for undocumented immigrant children and bilingual classrooms. And, back in the nonconformist hippie days of 1970, he ruled that bearded and long-haired students, including Vietnam veterans, had a right to attend public college. He recently recalled walking into a Tyler gas station after striking down the long-hair ban. "The place went silent," he said, and the old-timers stared into their coffee cups. It was just another daily snub for a man who challenged people's prejudices. One of the coffee drinkers looked out the window, saw a couple of long-haired young men and said, "They ought to be in the penitentiary."
In 1970, in one of his early cases, segregation in several local school prompted the U.S. Justice Department to file a class action suit in his courtroom seeking to end racial segregation in all Texas schools. The case, United States v. Texas, was filed in 1970, 16 years after the Brown v. Board. In Texas, it was not unusual for students in all-black schools to have outhouses rather than indoor restrooms or to have orange crates instead of chairs. Justice quickly sided with the federal government and ordered integration of schools.
In 1971, legal advocates for Texas youths incarcerated in facilities run by the Texas Youth Council filed a class action lawsuit known as Morales v. Turman. The case focused on illegal commitments, inhumane treatment, beatings and the use of Mace on youths, unsupervised and poorly trained guards and punitive practices. Some inmates were forced to pick weeds all day, shovel dirt and throw it back, or dig dirt all day with spoons. Justice found the conditions in the youth facilities unconstitutional and forced the state to make sweeping reforms.
In 1972, a state prison inmate from Austin, armed robber David Ruiz, filed a 15-page handwritten petition in Justice's court. The judge consolidated it with filings from other inmates into a class action suit against the Texas prison system known as Ruiz v. Estelle. By the time the case was settled in 2002, the state had been forced to make sweeping changes and expansions to prisons. Gone are the days of using brutal inmates to "guard" other prisoners and having one doctor for the entire system, overcrowding and long stays in solitary confinement as punishment for trivial violations. It became the most massive prison reform case in the country.
In 1974, parents of several residents in state institutions for people with mental disabilities filed a federal lawsuit demanding improvements in the so-called state schools. The Lelsz v. Kavanagh class action case ran for more than two decades and exposed deplorable conditions in the institutions, including hosing down groups of residents in lieu of bathing them, rapes of female residents who became pregnant and gave birth with no idea of what was happening to their bodies, fatal beatings, woefully inadequate medical care and a lack of appropriate activities for the residents. Justice ordered that hundreds of residents be moved into apartments and group homes in the community.
In 1977, Doe v. Plyler landed in Justice's court after the Tyler school district refused to admit children of undocumented immigrants unless they paid $1,000 in tuition, an impossible feat for immigrant families who earned an average of only $4,000 a year at that time in Texas. The state had outlawed free education for noncitizens in 1975. But Justice ruled, in the first federal opinion of its kind, that undocumented children and young adults have the same right as U.S. citizens to attend school in Texas. Appeals landed the case before the U.S. Supreme Court, which upheld Justice's decision. The landmark ruling extended the education right nationwide. "I thought injustice was being done (with the $1,000 tuition law). It was unconstitutional. The Supreme Court upheld me 5-4. As a result of that decision, I think probably several million children got an education. And that's the case I'm most proud of."
District Judge Keith Ellison of the Southern District of Texas spoke with passion about his colleague: "He has, through his hard work, his high purpose and his undaunted courage, helped make the American dream accessible to millions of men, women and children for whom it was previously thought hopelessly out of reach. ... He has always shown a gentle identification with the oppressed and a towering rage against the oppressor."
He died this week at the age of 89. I think his legacy will provide hope for those attempting to affect change within the system.
source:
http://www.statesman.com/news/content/news/stories/local/2009/10/15/1015justiceobit.html