[Congressional Record Volume 143, Number 12 (Tuesday, February 4, 1997)]
[Senate]
[Pages S976-S978]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
VERMONT CHIEF JUSTICE JEFFREY L. AMESTOY
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, Vermonters are rightfully proud of
their new chief justice of the Vermont supreme court, Jeffrey L.
Amestoy.
Chief Justice Amestoy--a Republican who left behind a distinguished
tenure as Vermont's attorney general when he accepted the nomination to
Vermont's highest judicial post by Gov. Howard Dean, a Democrat--was
administered the oath of office by Governor Dean on January 31 in
Montpelier.
I was one of many who were present as Chief Justice Amestoy delivered
the traditional inaugural address in the chamber of the Vermont House
of Representatives. It was more than a speech to be heard. It was also
a speech to be felt. He offered an illuminating, uplifting, heartfelt,
and deeply personal tapestry that deservedly will long be remembered.
Governor Dean has said, ``The most important things in a judge are
integrity, compassion, and hard work.'' All who know Jeffrey Amestoy
and all who heard him speak on that wintry Vermont afternoon know how
abundantly those qualities are present in our new chief justice.
I join all Vermonters in offering congratulations to Chief Justice
Amestoy, to Jeff's wife, Susan Lonergan Amestoy, to their three
daughters, Katie, Christina, and Nancy, and to Jeff's mother, Diana
Wood Amestoy. All were on hand for the stirring ceremony in Montpelier.
Mr. JEFFORDS. Mr. President, I join Senator Leahy today in paying
tribute to Vermont's new chief justice, Jeffrey L. Amestoy. Jeff is a
good friend and a great Vermonter, and I know he will serve in his new
post with distinction and honor.
Jeff Amestoy and I have shared many life experiences. We were both
raised in Rutland, VT. He served as an assistant attorney general under
my stewardship as Vermont's attorney general in the early 1970's. And
now, over 20 years later, he is serving in the position that my father,
Olin Jeffords, once held: chief justice of the Vermont supreme court.
As someone who has known Jeff for over 25 years, I can attest to his
judicial knowledge, his keen sense of Vermont values, his modest
demeanor and his dedication to the people of Vermont.
I was fortunate to be able to attend the swearing-in ceremony for
Jeff last Friday in Montpelier. It was a wonderful event, one that I
will never forget. Jeff's comments were from the heart and I am pleased
to join Senator Leahy in offering them today as part of the Record.
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, on behalf of Senator Jeffords and myself, I
commend to the attention of our colleagues Chief Justice Jeffrey
Amestoy's inauguration address before the Vermont House of
Representatives on January 31, 1997, and submit the
[[Page S977]]
text to the speech for the Record, as printed in the Times Argus of
Barre, VT, on February 1, 1997.
The text of the speech follows:
Inaugural Address of Chief Justice Jeffrey L. Amestoy
Three weeks ago, at the occasion of my nomination for the
position of chief justice, I said I had so many people to
thank I didn't know where to end.
Today the task is even more difficult.
But I still know where to start: Thank you, Governor Dean.
To my ``particular friend,'' Susan Lonergan Amestoy: I
could not have made this journey without you--and it wouldn't
have been as much fun.
To Katherine, Christina, and Nancy Amestoy--for whom this
is the third visit to the State House this month--thank you
for your patience.
I thought the events of the past 30 days might have been
bewildering to our daughters, but Katie Amestoy had it
exactly right when she told a friend on the day of my second
interview with the governor:
``I can't come over today. My Dad's trying out for Chief
Justice.''
I thank my mother, Dianna Wood Amestoy, for being here
today and for always being there in times of need.
For those of you for whom a desire to impress your parents
is a part of your motivation, I offer the following
cautionary tale.
When I called my mother to tell her of my nomination, she
replied:
``That's wonderful, I've just been hang gliding in
Montana.''
If I can bring one half of my mother's energy, and one
quarter of her sense of humor to my new responsibilities,
Vermont will be well served.
Thank you (Wisconsin) Attorney General (James) Doyle, and
thank you Attorney General Malley for your generous words.
Present today are colleagues--current and former--from the
National Association of Attorneys General. They, together
with the staff of the Vermont Attorney General's Office, have
not only supported me professionally during the last dozen
years; they have been among my closest friends.
And if it is true, as I believe it to be, that one can be
judged by the friends one treasures, then you will understand
why their being here today means so much to me.
There are also here individuals to whom I cannot ever make
an adequate expression of thanks.
When I became a candidate for public office, the best
advice I ever received was: ``Never pass an old friend to say
hello to a new one.''
Today is special for many reasons, but most of all because
our old friends are here.
Twenty years ago, as a young assistant attorney general, I
spent a Sunday in the law library preparing for an oral
argument the next day before the Vermont Supreme Court.
Then, as now, the law library was next to the court. But in
those days, the doors to the Supreme Court were unlocked
during the weekend.
And so when I finished a long day's preparation, I went
into the empty courtroom and sat in the seat of a Vermont
Supreme Court Justice.
The next morning I appeared before the Court. As chance
would have it, as I began my argument, I was interrupted by
Justice Larrow.
Some here may remember Justice Larrow's reputation as an
incisive interrogator. If you argued before him you will
recall his habit of clearing his throat just before he
reached the most penetrating portion of his inquiry.
``Mr. Amestoy,'' he began, ``would you please tell this
court what gives you the right * * *'' and at this point, as
Justice Larrow began clearing his throat, I was struck with
the awful realization that it was Justice Larrow's seat I had
sat in the previous afternoon.
For one terrible moment I thought I was going to be asked:
``What gives you the right to sit in the seat of a justice of
the Vermont Supreme Court?''
There may be some here who have a similar question. If so,
I am grateful to you--as I was to Justice Larrow that day--
for not asking.
I believe, if I meet the standards I have set for myself,
the question will occur to you less often in the future.
I am privileged to join a court comprised of individuals
with whom I have worked and for whom I have great respect.
Justice Johnson and I worked closely together at the Office
of Attorney General, where she was an unexcelled chief of the
Public Protection Division.
I have known Justice Morse since his service as defender
general and his work as one of Vermont's finest trial judges.
Justice Dooley and I worked together when he served as
Governor Kunin's legal counsel and secretary of
administration. More recently, I participated with Justice
Dooley in the court/prosecution program in Karelia. Joining
us in Russia was, among others, Maryland Attorney General
Joseph Curran.
Hence, Attorney General Curran is the only attorney general
in the country that knows both John Dooley and me. It was
that knowledge that led the Maryland attorney general to
offer the observation, when he learned that John and I were
being considered for chief justice, that I was a strong
second choice.
That is an opinion, I know, that is not exclusive to the
state of Maryland.
Justice Gibson, as all who know him would anticipate, has
been extraordinarily generous and helpful to me.
All here know, I am sure, that Justice Gibson's career is
consistent with the unparalleled contributions to public
service by the Gibson family.
What may be less well known is that Justice Gibson plays
first base for the combined court/attorney general softball
team.
As a rookie second baseman, I was saved from several errors
by the sure grasp and long range of first baseman Gibson.
I will rely on that same grasp and range to minimize the
errors of a rookie chief justice.
I also take the liberty today of expressing my gratitude to
former Chief Justice Allen--not just for his courtesies to
me, but for his service to Vermont.
In the 1980s, history linked the chief justice of Vermont
and the attorney general of Vermont more closely than either
one of us would have chosen. Although I do not know all that
occurred during the unhappy years enveloped by the ``judicial
misconduct'' controversy, I know more than all but a few in
this chamber.
It may be that another individual in the position of chief
justice during those troubled years could have struck the
critical balance necessary to keep the court functioning
without sacrificing the integrity of the institution.
But I, for one, am glad that we do not have to test the
hypothetical.
And surely it is difficult, even as a hypothesis, to
imagine another chief justice who could have brought the
court through those difficult days and led the court to a
point where, by every objective measure, it is now more
efficient than at any time in its history.
So today I deliver my first opinion as chief justice. It is
one which I know to be unanimous. It is an opinion which will
be corroborated by the judgment of history:
Frederic Allen was a great chief justice.
Fred Allen's shoes are being ones to fill.
But--I brought my own shoes.
If a span of years in which to serve as chief justice is
granted to me by God and the Legislature (that's an
alphabetical listing, Mr. Speaker!), I shall judge my
success, or lack thereof, against three objectives.
First, and by far the most important: Did I contribute to
the faith of Vermont's citizens in our judicial system, and
to their trust in the character of those entrusted with its
authority?
Second: Did I, as chief appellate judge of Vermont,
contribute to a body of law that clearly and concisely
communicates to litigants, lawyers, and trial judges the
standards to be used to achieve the just and timely
resolution of disputes?
Third: Did I, as chief justice, ensure that the judiciary,
as a separate and co-equal branch of government, has the
resources necessary to fulfill its responsibilities and the
accountability for the use of those resources?
For that work, I will need the help of all, most especially
the judges and staff of the trial courts who honor me with
their presence today.
When it became apparent that I was to assume the duties of
a new position, I received several calls from those most
directly affected by my status.
The callers were cordial but all had the same message,
which may be summarized as follows:
1. I should remember who had trial court experience and who
didn't.
2. I should realize that there were many in their group
that were equally or more qualified than I.
3. I should never forget that, while I might now have the
impressive title, the real work was done in the trenches of
the day-to-day business of the trial courts.
I am referring, of course, to the calls I received from
state's attorneys when I was first elected attorney general!
I trust that my past work will offer some guide to what the
future may hold. In any event, I shall do my best to avoid
the example of the Vermonter who--when asked by his neighbor
if he had an opinion about a controversial issue to be heard
at Town Meeting--replied: ``Not yet. But when I do take a
position, I'm prepared to be bitter!''
I believe in ``civility in public discourse and constancy
in private affection.''
And I believe, with Learned Hand, that ``the spirit of
liberty is the spirit that is not too sure it is right.''
We will need that spirit more than ever to meet the changes
that the new century will surely bring.
Two years ago, I spoke to new citizens at a naturalization
ceremony in Newport, Vermont. The event coincided with the
completion of the debate in the Vermont Legislature over the
proposed resolution relating to the flag burning amendment.
That probably accounted for the fact that the hosts for the
ceremony--the American Legion--were somewhat less
enthusiastic about my presence than when the invitation to
speak was extended.
But whatever one's view of that proposed amendment, it is
remarkable, as I observed then, that upon taking the oath of
citizenship, had one of the new citizens refused to recite
the pledge of allegiance, neither the attorney general of
Vermont, nor the attorney general of the United States, nor
the entire United States government, could have compelled
recitation of the pledge.
Indeed, the judicial system would have protected the new
citizen and provided redress for any attempted compulsion.
But, of course, each of the new citizens recited the pledge
of allegiance of their own
[[Page S978]]
free will and with more meaning than I am accustomed to
hearing.
It is an inherent American trait to look at the courts to
vindicate one's rights. With God's grace, it shall always be
so. But it is neither law nor courts that shall secure our
future.
``Liberty,'' said Learned Hand, ``lies in the hearts of men
and women; when it dies there, no constitution, no law, no
court can save it; no constitution, no law, no court can even
do much to help it.''
So although I have much to learn about judging, it seems to
me that Curtis Bok was right when he said of his own judicial
experience ``. . . there still remains a mystery . . . that
defies analysis.''
``Perhaps,'' wrote Judge Bok, ``it would be better to say
that a judge's cases take hold of him and pull things out of
him, and that it is his business to be sure to keep the
proper supplies on hand, so far as he can be the master of
that.''
If ``the proper supplies,'' or at least a portion of them,
are integrity and hard work, compassion and common sense, an
abiding respect for the dignity of the individual and the
value of community--then, to the extent I start today with
those ``supplies,'' it is because of the people in this room
and the Vermont we love.
And it is because of one who is not here, nor ever could be
the seven other times his son took the oath of office in this
historic chamber.
More than four decades ago, a young father took his son to
Hand's Cove on Lake Champlain for a day of duck hunting.
But the father soon understood that of his son a hunter he
could not make.
So he turned the day into a history lesson, for Hand's Cove
is where Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys gathered
before their raid on Fort Ticonderoga in the early morning of
May 1775.
From the father's description of the events sprung a boy's
interest in history and the individuals and ideas that shape
it.
Many years later--when the boy was much older than the
father had been on that day--his interest in law led him to
Learned Hand.
And to the realization, which somehow seemed fitting, that
Hand's Cove was the home of--indeed had been named for--the
Vermont ancestors of the great judge.
Logic tells me that there is no connection in the
coincidence of a place from which sprung the beginning of
this state, and the family of a remarkable jurist, and a
father's gift to his son.
But my heart tells me otherwise.
And I believe in the ``restless wisdom of the heart.''
And I believe, too, in the wisdom of the poet who says to
each of us--a chief justice no less than the child who even
now gazes out a window, perhaps on Leonard Street: ``We see
but what we have the gift of seeing''; to this life, ``What
we bring, we find.''
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