In Memoriam - Arthur J. Goldberg, The Practitioner

Abner Mikva

I first laid eyes on Arthur Goldberg in May1952, when the U.S. Supreme Court heard oral arguments in what has become the landmark Steel Seizure case.[1] As a law clerk for Justice Sherman Minton, I had a ringside seat to the oral argument, and it was exciting.

Arthur was then general counsel for the United Steel Workers of America, the union intervenor in the case. Although the union was very much a real party in interest, it was consigned to intervenor status because the thrust of the dispute was between the steel companies--which had been seized--and President Truman--who had seized them. As counsel for the intervenor union, Arthur was assigned a relatively short period of time to argue. John W. Davis, representing the steel industry, and Philip Perlman, the Solicitor General, had been assigned five hours between them. Davis was probably past his prime (he was then 79 years of age and arguing his 138th case before the Supreme Court). Solicitor General Perlman had many items on his agenda, including trying to explain away President Truman's failure to use the Taft-Hartley Act (which had become law over Truman's veto) to accomplish the President's purpose. Arthur Goldberg had no such disabilities. It was the overwhelming consensus of the law clerks that he was the best oral advocate not only of the day but of the entire year. Since I wanted to practice labor law anyway, I determined that I wanted to work for this man.

My hiring interview was quintessential Goldberg. I told him that I wanted to practice with his Washington firm; he persuaded me that I really wanted to go back to Chicago and practice with his firm there. (The firm in Chicago did some labor law, but was primarily a general practice; although Arthur Goldberg was the only partner named in both firms, the financial arrangements were those of a single firm.) When the interview turned to discussion of compensation, Arthur assured me that the firm would improve somewhat on my law clerk's salary. He turned pale, however, when I told him that I was getting $5,200 per year as a law clerk. "That's more than I made the first five years I was in practice," he told me, "and more than all the other associates are making in Chicago or in Washington." I did avoid a pay cut, the other associates received a raise, and I started practicing law with the best lawyer of his time.

Arthur did not spend very much time in Chicago. He had already moved his family to Washington, and had commenced the familiar lifestyle of a Washingtonian who would be in Washington "temporarily" for the rest of his life. His visits to Chicago were always very exciting for the people he saw. His voice was booming, his stride was purposeful, his humor was sharp, and he was on top of every situation he confronted. Each of us in the Chicago office would trot out his most perplexing legal (or personal) problem, and Arthur would cut to the quick of it. He knew so much--cases, people, trends, judges, politicians, bishops, rabbis. I think that if he had told the switchboard operator to call the Pope for him, it would not have fazed her in the least.

Even more fun were my occasional trips to Washington. As the junior associate, I was considered the most portable; if there was a need for an extra pair of hands in Washington, I would get called in. (I always suspected that those assignments came in part because Arthur knew I wanted to be in Washington.) The shop was small in Washington--only four lawyers at its height--and it meant working with Arthur side-by-side. Writing a brief for him was an exhilarating experience. He did not do law review edits (although David Feller and Elliot Bredhoff, the two other Washington seniors, did), but he would insist that we boil the brief down to our best shot. He could not abide the notion that we should use the brief to try to flimflam the court. He was not naive about judges and justice (remember, he started his practice in Cook County, Illinois). Rather, he believed that justice was more likely to triumph, with the aid of a short, to-the-point brief than by means of attempts to confuse or overwhelm the court.

Arthur carried his zeal for brevity and pithiness to all forms of communication. Phone conversations with him were always brief. His speeches were short. His memos were always to the point. He had been appointed special counsel to the AFL-CIO ethics committee, and I worked with him on the reports which summarized the hearings to expel some of the constituent unions because of corruption. He emphasized repeatedly that we had two audiences to satisfy: the AFL-CIO Executive Board, and any court that would be asked to review the process by which the unions had been expelled. I recall Arthur sending one report back to me with the comment that it probably was too long for even a court to read, but that it certainly was too long for the Executive Board to read.

I suspect that some readers will find my description of Arthur Goldberg's zeal for brevity hard to believe in light of the length of some of his speeches during his ill-fated gubernatorial race in New York. I can say only that all kinds of changes occurred in Arthur's style during that political effort, and none of them are worth reminiscing about.

There was a constant in Arthur's behavior that is worth remembering, and that was his warmth to people. He knew the names of the elevator operators in the building (even in the building in Chicago which he seldom visited.) Of course he knew the names of all the waiters in Duke Zeibert's restaurant in Washington. (I remember that on one occasion we ended up with two waiters serving three people because neither waiter would yield the privilege to the other.) It is hard to find a lawyer of my age or older in Chicago who fails to talk about his personal relationship with Arthur Goldberg. No matter how brief the encounter, Arthur generated an enthusiasm and charisma that made a lasting impression.

Early in my career, I defended a tenant against eviction by his landlord. I came to the Municipal Court of Chicago seeking an extra 30 days tenancy for my client. Before I could open my mouth, the judge looked at the pleadings with the name of the Goldberg law firm -on them, and began to lecture the landlord's attorney. The judge didn't know me from a bale of hay, but told my opponent, "This young man is with one of the finest law firms in the city. Arthur Goldberg is a brilliant lawyer, and his name wouldn't be on a pleading if it wasn't accurate." The judge proceeded to stay the eviction for 60 days (twice as long as I had asked for) and my opponent undoubtedly assumed that I had put the "fix" in with the judge. When I told Arthur about the incident some time later, he laughed and recalled that the judge who had spoken so highly of him had been an early adversary.

Arthur Goldberg held many titles in his lifetime. He will be remembered as a Supreme Court Justice, a United Nations Ambassador, a Secretary of Labor, a counselor and adviser to Presidents. I had the privilege to know him in two other capacities: as a brilliant practicing lawyer and as a warm human being.

1. Youngstown Sheet and Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579 (1952).