[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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