[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 141 (Friday, October 9, 1998)] [Senate] [Pages S12212-S12214] From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov] TRIBUTE TO JUDGE ROBERT I.H. HAMMERMANMr. SARBANES. Mr. President, I rise to acknowledge the unique and extraordinary contributions made to Baltimore and the State of Maryland by Judge Robert I.H. Hammerman who, this past summer, retired after thirty-seven years of distinguished service to our citizens and legal system. During his career on the bench, Judge Hammerman was a leader in court reform and the efforts to establish an effective yet caring system of juvenile criminal justice. These efforts were directed not only at changing the system, but also at exerting every effort possible to give young men in need the opportunity for academic and athletic development. His remarkable commitment to the youth of Baltimore is most exemplified by the Lancers Boys Club which he founded 50 years ago and which greatly affected the lives of approximately 3,000 young men of all different backgrounds and races. Through his remarkable commitment, Judge Hammerman influenced several generations of young men whose leadership has affected every facet of State and national life. ``Bobby'' Hammerman, as he is known by his fellow Baltimoreans, served his community with exceptional dedication as a jurist but also, even more importantly, as a good and caring citizen. I want to take this occasion to express my own appreciation for his life of service and ask to have printed in the Record several articles from the Baltimore Sun and the Baltimore Jewish Times which chronicle his accomplishments. The articles follow: [[Page S12213]] [From the Baltimore Sun, July 16, 1998] With Closing Argument, Judge Ends 37-Year Term Md.'s Hammerman questions being forced to put down gavel at 70 By Dennis O'Brien) The longest-serving trial judge in Maryland history hangs up his robes today--and he is not happy about it. ``I'm not retiring. They're retiring me,'' says Baltimore Circuit Chief Judge Robert I.H. Hammerman. After 37 years of deciding other people's fates and distputes, Hammerman says this choice is being made for him: He will turn 70 tomorrow, the mandatory retirement age for judges under Maryland law. He sees little sense to being forced out because of his age, especially since he is fit enough to walk up the five fights of stairs to his countroom two or three times each day, he still needs only four hours of sleep each night, can beat 20-year-old opponents at tennis and plays an hours of squash five times a week. He loves the work routine that begins at 5:30 a.m. and involves listening to hours of arcane legal arguments. ``I feel like every day is a new day, and every day is different. I've never felt tired, or bored at this job,'' he says. Hammerman has asked Court of Appeals Chief Judge Robert Mack Bell to allow him to serve in retirement as much as possible as a part-time judge, a position that would mean ``specially assigning'' him to any courthouse in Maryland where judges are short-handed. Bell says he intends to take Hammerman up on his offer. ``I think he's been a great judge,'' said Bell, who served with Hammerman on the Baltimore Circuit Court in the 1980s before Bell was appointed the state's top judge. It upsets Hammerman that Maryland law will allow him to serve as a part-time judge for only one-third of any calendar year. Hammerman, who is single, gives the impression of being willing to go just about anywhere to hear a case. ``I've always said that when my time is up in this world, I want it to be one of three courts: a court of law, a tennis court or a squash court,'' Hammerman said. From the beginning Robert Israel Harold Hammerman was born in Baltimore, the son of Herman Hammerman, a lawyer who did mostly real estate work for his older brother, S.L. Hammerman, a prominent Baltimore developer. A graduate of City College, the Johns Hopkins University and Harvard Law School, Hammerman was appointed in 1961 by Gov. J. Millard Tawes to be a judge on the old Baltimore Municipal Court to decide traffic cases, neighborhood disputes and misdemeanor offenses. He was appointed six years later to the Supreme Bench of Baltimore, which became the Baltimore Circuit Court in 1983. He spent his first eight years on the Supreme Bench presiding over the city's Juvenile Court and is credited with bringing the court into compliance with a landmark 1967 Supreme Court case, In Re Gault, that guaranteed juvenile offenders the same right to an attorney as adults. In the spotlight Over the years, Hammerman has presided over some of the city's most publicized trials, including the 1995 jury trial for John Joseph Merzbacher, then 53, a former Catholic Community Middle School teacher accused of sexually abusing 14 students and other teen-agers between 1972 and 1979. Hammerman sentenced the former teacher to four life terms for raping one of the students. In recent years, Hammerman said, the courts have been flooded with criminal cases--particularly drug cases. When he was appointed to the Supreme Bench there were 15 judges, he said. These days there are twice that many judges--and the courts are still swamped, he said. ``The drug culture just permeates everything we do here,'' he said. Be on time, or else In court, Hammerman developed a reputation as a strict, uncompromising no-nonsense judge, who appeared each morning on the bench at exactly 9 a.m. and expected lawyers to be just as punctual. ``He's very big on punctuality,'' said David Moore, a former law clerk who is now a Baltimore assistant state's attorney. Many lawyers also say that Hammerman is prone to lose his temper, is often quick to make up his mind on a case and will dress down lawyers who either try to argue him out of his position or fail to show proper respect. ``He's never held me in contempt, but he's chewed me out.'' said Curt Anderson, a criminal defense lawyer, former state delegate and a longtime friend. ``It reminded me of being 17 again and being chewed out--it was that bad.'' Lewis A. Noonberg, another lawyer and longtime friend, attributes Hammerman's legendary short fuse to his work ethic and his competitive edge. ``He loves sports, and he loves to beat the pants off people half his age. He doesn't get any thrill out of beating me `cause I'm only 10 years younger than him,'' said Noonberg, 60. Reputation for honesty Hammerman admits to being competitive and to insisting on civility in his courtroom. But more than anything, he says, he values his reputation for honesty. So he says it offended him when he was charged with leaving the scene of an accident after a fender-bender outside the Pikesville library on Reisterstown Road on April 5, 1997. The driver of the car who reported the accident, Ronnie N. Albom, said publicly after Hammerman was cleared of the charge on Sept. 22, 1997, that his position as a judge helped him win the acquittal in Baltimore County District Court, a charge that Hammerman vehemently denies. Hammerman said that there was no accident and no damages, that he did not know the judge who acquitted him and that he turned down an offer to have the case dismissed if he would pay the $77 in damages to Albom. ``For one thing, there was no accident. Second, I didn't leave the scene; that's how they got the information that they later used to file these false charges,'' Hammerman said. Legacy of the Lancers Although as a judge he has often been in the public eye, Hammerman may be best known throughout the city for his work as adviser to the Lancers Boys Club, a high-profile civic organization for teen-age boys established by three childhood friends in 1946. The club, which boasts Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke and numerous other prominent people as members, has been the judge's pet project ever since. Hammerman has used the club to steer 3,000 boys to civic activism through activities such as tutoring in schools, working in soup kitchens and participating in community cleanup drives. The club encourages members to study in school, play sports and strive for success and rewards them with overseas trips, dinners and lectures that have included celebrity guest speakers. In retirement, Hammerman says, he probably will spend more time on club activities, lining up speakers, corresponding with members and making arrangements for trips, dinners and other events. Anderson, who joined the Lancers when he and Schmoke were students at City College, praises Hammerman for his club work. ``You've got to hand it to him,'' Anderson said. ``He's probably touched thousands of lives.'' ____ [From the Baltimore Jewish Times, July 10, 1998] A Good Way To Leave--Baltimore's Chief Judge Robert I.H. Hammerman Might Be Retiring, But He'll Never Stop Working (By Christine Stutz) One can only imagine how crestfallen Chief Judge Robert I.H. Hammerman will feel when his alarm goes off at 3:52 a.m. on July 17, and he remembers he's not due in court. For July 17 is his 70th birthday, which means it's also the first day of his retirement, a status he finds about as appealing as a dip in a frozen lake. ``I'm not retiring,'' Judge Hammerman says, indignantly. ``They're retiring me.'' With 37 years of service to the city of Baltimore, Judge Hammerman has the longest tenure of any judge in the Maryland court system. For a man who lives by a strict work ethic and personifies the core values associated with that ethic, every day off the bench will carry a certain emptiness. That's why he's offering to hear cases as a retired ``recall judge'' in whatever local jurisdiction needs him, 12 months a year--even though by law he can only be paid for four months of service. ``I don't know anyone who has tried, and continues to try, harder than he does simply to be a good judge,'' says Baltimore Circuit Court Judge David Ross, a longtime colleague and friend of Judge Hammerman's who retired voluntarily two years ago. ``He gives a lot and he expects a lot,'' says David L. Palmer, a former Baltimore assistant state's attorney who now works in the law offices of Peter Angelos. ``He takes a lot of pride in the courtroom.'' At the luncheons and dinners planned in his honor in the coming weeks, the vigorous, whitehaired jurist will be lauded as a man of intellect, industry and integrity. No doubt he also will be teased about his tennis game, his fondness for iced tea and Rold Gold pretzels, and his fastidious nature. On the bench, he is Chief Judge Robert I.H. Hammerman, a stickler for detail and a force to be reckoned with. The first week on the job, every trial lawyer in town learns two cardinal rules about the Hammerman court: be on time and be prepared. Those who have incurred his wrath are probably still smarting from it. In his private life, though, he is Bob Hammerman, a sports enthusiast who attends Smashing Pumpkins concerts and shares his cluttered den with a giant Mickey Mouse doll. At 11:25 every evening, the Harvard Law School graduate opens a pint of Baskin Robbins ice cream and sits down to watch the sports segment on the Channel 2 evening news. About halfway through ``Nightline,'' he reaches the bottom of the container and calls it a night. At precisely 3:52 a.m., his alarm goes off, and he begins another day. He's at the courthouse by 5:30, when even the pigeons are still sleeping. A lifelong member of Reform Har Sinai Congregation in Upper Park Heights, Judge Hammerman blows the shofar, or ram's horn, every Rosh Hashanah. For the past 25 years [[Page S12214]] he also has blown the shofar during Ash Wednesday services at Immaculate Heart of Mary, a Catholic church in Towson. Although he says he never set out to be a role model, Judge Hammerman takes pride in exemplifying certain character traits he holds dear:punctuality, diligence, honesty, respectfulness and generosity. As founder of the Lancers Boys Club in 1946, he has influenced more than 3,000 young men to strive for excellence. A doting father figure to many current and former Lancers, he cheers them on at ballgames, follows their academic progress, and is always available for late-night phone calls when advice or encouragement is needed. With his guidance, countless Lancers have attended prestigious colleges and professional schools and become outstanding business and community leaders. Baltimore Mayor Kurt L. Schmoke, state Del. Samuel I. ``Sandy'' Rosenberg and former Alex. Brown chairman Alvin ``Buzzy'' Krongard are Lancers alumni. ``I believe in discipline everywhere. Discipline is something we haven't enough of in our society,'' says the judge, who graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Johns Hopkins University in 1950. ``It isn't enough to do something that will simply pass muster, that is adequate,'' he tells his proteges. ``You must do it to the very best of your ability.'' In his first assignment, to the juvenile court, he took great pains to find something a young offender was interested in and ``use that as a building block,'' he says. One boy, who had brought a loaded gun to school, loved football, but there were no organized teams in his Southwest Baltimore neighborhood. The judge arranged for him to play with the Randallstown Rams, and made attending practices a condition of his probation. The youth became a star of the team, and then-- with the judge's help--attended Baltimore Polytechnic Institute and went on to college. demanding, but fair It's difficult to imagine a profession for which Judge Hammerman is better suited. As a judge, he can use his brilliant mind to serve mankind, but in a secure, controlled environment where he's very much in charge. ``It has allowed me to use the habits I believe in, in constructive ways,'' he says. David Rosenberg, a litigation partner with the Washington, D.C., law firm of Wright, Robinson, Osthimer & Tatum, clerked for Judge Hammerman in 1985-86. ``He really influenced me and had a profound effect on my career,'' says Mr. Rosenberg. ``I was always amazed. He never took the bench without looking at the file completely. And I was always struck by the fact that he let the lawyers have their say.'' Even though the judge has been very demanding of his law clerks, they praise him for teaching them what it takes to be a successful lawyer. ``His demands were not so much that Robert I.H. Hammerman was an important person, but the people who went into that courtroom were important people,'' says state Del. Robert L. Frank of Reisterstown, who clerked for the judge in 1984-85. ``In a society of me-first people, he has given far more than he'll ever get.'' Judge Hammerman, who never married, lives in the same Park Heights apartment he shared with his mother, the late Belle Greenblatt Hammerman. Every item in the home has a history he's eager to share, and which he recalls in great detail. He opens the glass doors of a secretary to reveal the complete works of Tolstoy, Hugo, Dickens and Hawthorne-- classics he says his father, whose family could not afford to send him to college, devoured each night before retiring. Filed among the yellowed pages of those books are all of Judge Hammerman's school report cards. In the same way that he recalls his happy childhood, Judge Hammerman looks back with pride on a stellar career as one of the city's most prominent public figures. ``I feel I have been very privileged, very fortunate, very lucky to have had this job,'' he says. ``I have no regrets. None. ``And it's a good way to leave.'' ____________________