Perspective

by David J. Weidman, Esquire

The Delaware Bar is amazing, and I feel fortunate to be a member. I recently had two experiences that served to remind me what a privilege it is to belong to this bar. The day before Thanksgiving, like most people, I just wanted to get out of the office and home for the holidays. Instead, I participated in an emergency teleconference with Vice Chancellor Strine concerning a relatively small civil matter here in Sussex County. The opposing party was pro se and did not know the proper decorum in dealing with the judiciary – he had a rather bad habit of repeatedly interrupting the judge, and Vice Chancellor Strine showed great patience in dealing with this person. I know that I would not have had the same patience. In any event, the teleconference ended, and I drove to my parent’s house in Fairfax, Virginia with my daughter for the holiday weekend, putting the matter behind me.

The next morning, I woke up and retrieved The Washington Post from my parents’ driveway like millions of other people in the Washington, D.C. area. As I unfolded the newspaper and perused the front page of each section, I almost dropped it when I read, on the front page of the “Business” section, an article about Vice Chancellor Strine and his recent decision in a case involving a company called Healthsouth. My heart raced a bit as I hurried inside my folks’ home, and like a proud child, excitedly put the newspaper under the noses of my mother, father, brother, and sister-in-law (and I think also their 6 month old baby) gesticulating wildly about how I had just spoken to Judge Strine the day before. Needless to say, my family was impressed that I had just made direct contact with someone on the front page of the Post’s business section the day before. I think that the newspaper article confirmed for both of my parents that I had finally ‘made’ it in my career. I just marveled at the reach of the Delaware bar.

In a case of deja vu, almost the same thing happened to me about a month later. Many of you may not know that the most influential person in corporate law lives not in New York City, Washington, D.C., or some other sophisticated metropolis, but rather, that person lives right here in Sussex County, in little Dagsboro, Delaware. I was fortunate to meet Chancellor William B. Chandler approximately eleven years ago through my former in-laws, and I still remember when he brought his kids to their home one time for Halloween to trick or treat. If you’ve never had the honor of meeting Chancellor Chandler, or appearing before him, then you have something to look forward to both personally and professionally. Most people that have appeared before Judge Chandler note immediately the articulate, cogent, and deliberate manner with which he presides. Plus, you will never meet a man who is morekind and simply “down to earth.”

It was against this backdrop that I was reading a recent issue of “Fortune” magazine (if you don’t read it regularly – which I don’t – you’ve probably at least heard of it), and there on page 176 is a picture of our very own Chancellor centered in an article about corporate accountability. Again, I marveled about the reach of the Delaware bar, and how we can be touched by prominent people in high places on a personal level in this small state. The neat twist to this part of the story is that about a week or two later I ran into Chancellor Chandler and discussed his appearance in the magazine.

On the day before Christmas, I worked a half day at the office. I did not have any court appearances or clients, so I dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. (My partners are probably going to implement a dress policy for lawyers now). In any event, by noon that day, the Town of Georgetown looked empty, and I went to the Georgetown Deli to get a sandwich. I did not think that I would run into anyone that should see me in a tie. I opened the door and walked inside, and at the counter with his back to me was the only other person in the store. It turned out to be Chancellor Chandler, but for a split second, I did not recognize him because he was dressed essentially just like me. Judge Chandler asked me about my family, and I asked him about his kids, and we discussed the rush of the holidays. So here I am, talking to the most powerful corporate jurist in the country, if not the world, in the Georgetown Deli, in blue jeans, about our families. This is a great place to practice law.

Return to February 2004 Table of Contents.