Quiet end of an era

To a casual visitor it would appear that last Thursday was like just about any other on the old Terrebonne Parish courthouse’s second floor.

By far the roomiest of all the courtrooms, this one, which for now houses Division C of the 32nd Judicial District court, is an artistic marvel. Its great, tall windows provide a panoramic vista of the picturesque courthouse square.

Above the bench is a Great Depression era WPA art-deco mural, painted by an unknown artist. At its center is a mill wheel, with stalks of sugarcane in the background. On the left side are icons of local industry, including a rail car, and oil wells. On the right are caricatures of people engaged in trades well known here in the bayou country. There is a trapper and raccoon, an oyster monger, and what passes for a shrimp fisherman, arms akimbo, near a hanging trawl that identifies his line of work.

“LABOR OMNIA VINCIT” the mural reads. “Great are a people whose industry carries them forward to a better civilization.”

On Thursday, there were people about the business of answering official demands for their appearances, acceding because they didn’t wish to end up like the sallow unfortunates shackled in the jury box, in jumpsuits of orange and red.

The tall-backed chair beneath the mural was empty during the first half-hour of the session, but then a little before 9 a.m. the judge appeared, clad not in a robe but a simple sport coat, unannounced by a bailiff’s “oyez” cry, but commanding attention of all present by his mere presence.

One by one, the accused appeared before Judge Timothy J. Ellender, who has occupied the bench for more years than some of them have lived, 21 years in all.

One stole liquor. Another stole crabs. Another drove drunk. One by one the cases were marked for future trial or other disposition.

Despite a few very public hiccups, Ellender’s years on the bench have been marked by candor and a dry humor. His errors, many in the courthouse suggest, have been due more to hubris than ill will.

He has never declined to speak his mind, even from the bench, even when political cost was at risk.

During trials and other proceedings he has been known to descend from the bench, wandering a bit while listening. Clear during these eccentric moments is the attitude, the one seen in generals, which speaks to knowledge of self and of rank. Ellender does not need a robe or big chair to maintain authority in his courtroom. It is just so.

On this Thursday, Judge Ellender descended and after grabbing a piece of candy on the one side of the courtroom slowly walked to the other, where the great windows are located. He fixed his gaze on the outside view as everyone in the room watched, rapt like an audience wondering when a speaker’s long-burning cigarette ash will drop. Then, unobtrusively, Ellender ascended once again to the bench.

He has not disclosed what thoughts were going through his mind. But there was a lot for him to think about.

Behind the courtroom wall, where his judicial chambers were located, inmates and staff members were carrying boxes of books and other property into the hallway. It was all in preparation for a great change that will occur, because on Dec. 31 Timothy J. Ellender will experience his last day as a judge.

Louisiana law says judges must retire after the age of 70 and, having reached that magic number, Ellender is now made to go gentle into the good twilight of judicial retirement, to pursue whatever he wishes.

It is a perverse irony that the state that upbraided Ellender for actions worthy of condemnation because they evinced generalization of people in matters of race or gender now evicts him from his chambers and bench because it generalizes on the basis of age.

Two attorneys with long-standing practices in Terrebonne Parish, one the son of a former lieutenant governor, the other a son of a judge who once dispensed justice in this same courthouse, had business before the bench, but also had messages to deliver.

Bill Dodd wished Ellender well, “on behalf of all of us old guys.”

Louis “Bubba” Watkins also wished the judge well. Both attorneys told Ellender it was an honor to practice before him.

Ellender, who is the last of a judicial breed, appeared moved, and gave thank for their sentiments.

And then the next case was called.