[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. HAMMERMAN
Mr. 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.''
____________________