THE GREATEST
My first job after finishing law school was to work as the law clerk for Judge Ben C. Connally, the Chief Judge of the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Texas, in Houston. Like most law clerks, my principal duties were assisting the Judge with legal research and writing. But unlike most law clerks, I was also charged with the duties of court bailiff when in session. This role provided some of the most interesting experiences of my time with the Judge.
In addition to opening each days court session with the “Hear ye, hear ye” spiel, it was my job to watch over the jury during the times they were not in the courtroom. While the jurors deliberated their verdict in the case, I would sit just outside the jury room door, protecting against intrusion and responding to questions and requests from the jurors. As it happened, the sound-proofing for the jury room was quite poor, such that in my position by the door, I could hear every word said in the room. I was, of course, forbidden from disclosing anything I heard to anyone else, including my Judge who, by the way, never ever asked me to divulge anything. But the value gained for me was an unprecedented insight into the manner in which juries went about deliberating — what they considered important and what they didn’t, as well as the general dynamics of how a group of twelve disparate individuals worked to achieve unanimity.
During my law clerk experience, I got to see some immensely entertaining and historic trials and proceedings, watch some of the nation’s premier attorneys at work and meet some very interesting characters. The Houston Independent School District racial integration case was decided by Judge Connally before my tenure, but the court had retained jurisdiction to oversee the implementation of the integration process, resulting in frequent hearings and arguments in our court regarding various problems in the process. A famous mafia kingpin was tried for assault on an FBI agent, and a maritime suit for enormous damages was heard when a large tanker capsized and sank in the Houston ship channel, blocking entry and exit for days to and from one of the worlds largest and busiest ports. Attorneys such as Melvin Belli (known as ‘The King of Torts”), Leon Jaworski, Percy Foreman, Judge Elkins (as in Vinson & Elkins) and,numerous other legal luminaries made appearances on various matters. But the most interesting occurrence in the federal building during my time there actually took place in the restroom on the sixth floor of the courthouse.
One morning in the spring of 1967, shortly before the day’s formal proceedings were to commence, I was about to enter the restroom at the same time as another man who pulled the door open and motioned for me to go ahead. I said, “No, you go first.” Then we bumped shoulders as we both moved to go in at the same time. I then noticed the face and the physique of the man, both of which were imposing, and I recognized him immediately.
Later, as we were washing our hands side by side I said, “I saw your fight against the Big Cat last fall.”
“Oh yeah” he said, “what did you think?”
“I was sitting pretty high up, but I watched through binoculars, so I had a good view. I thought you looked to be in control all the way,” I said.
“The Cat was a tough matchup for me, but I trained hard for that one and was ready and I think I fought one of my best fights that night,” he said.
“Lots of folks would agree with that, the experts as well as novices like me,” I said.
Emboldened by the easy familiarity of our conversation, I asked him if I could see his fist. He looked down at his hands, made the fist and threw a jab at me that stopped no more than a millimeter short of landing on my nose, causing me to snap my head back way too slowly to have avoided the punch had he intended it to land. The lightning quickness with which he delivered the fake punch was absolutely magical, causing me to try to imagine at what speed it might come against a real opponent in the ring when he was serious about it. He laughed and asked if I wanted a closer look, but I already had my hands up, palms out in a surrender mode. “No mas, no mas” would have been a more clever response, but that cry had not yet become part of boxing lore.
“I’m sorry man,” he said, “but you set yourself up so perfectly with that question, I just couldn’t resist.” Then we both had a good laugh.
“So, what do you see as your next challenge” I threw out. He just shrugged, obviously unwilling to get into the subject of his suspension from boxing or the taking away of his title.
“Do you know how to get to a Judge Connally’s court?” he asked. “I think my lawyers have already gone inside.”
I led him down the right hallway and opened the courtroom door for him. He just nodded a thank you and disappeared inside. Moments later, as I stood at my podium announcing the opening of court, I couldn’t help but notice the looks of recognition, surprise and amusement, in that order, pass across the face of the defendant being arraigned in the case styled United States of America vs. Cassius Marcellus Clay, aka Muhammad Ali.*
Later, as I reviewed the incident, I tried to convince myself that, when the fake punch was thrown, one of the knuckles of his fist had actually nicked my nose, ever so lightly. It didn’t, but as I recounted the event countless times to anyone who would listen, the contact became an absolute fact in the story line of “how I took a punch from Muhammad Ali and managed to stay on my feet.”
*Ali’s case was not tried in Judge Connally’s court. He appeared there only on that one occasion for his arraignment, a legal formality that lasted only a few minutes. His conviction for refusing to enter the military draft was overturned by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1971 and he returned to boxing shortly thereafter. For those who only saw Ali after his return to the ring against the likes of Joe Frazier and George Foreman, they got to see a wonderful fighter and competitor, but they didn’t get to see him in his prime, as I did, when he was truly “The Greatest.”