[Congressional Record Volume 156, Number 132 (Tuesday, September 28, 2010)]
[Senate]
[Pages S7606-S7607]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
TRIBUTE TO CHIEF JUSTICE JEFF AMESTOY
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, this summer, Marcelle and I were honored to
be at the Vermont Supreme Court with former Supreme Court Justice Jeff
Amestoy, his wife Susan, and their daughters. Like all Vermonters, I
have respected his tenure, both as attorney general and as chief
justice, as both were exemplary. While the portrait captures the image
of the Jeff Amestoy his friends honor and care for, his words are what
should be read by everyone who cares about our judiciary. Jeff's
commitment to the law, our justice system, and our sense of what makes
Vermont the State we love is in his words. They were so impressive I
asked him for a copy, and I ask unanimous consent that they be printed
in the Record.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
Remarks of Chief Justice Jeff Amestoy (Retired) at Portrait Ceremony
Vermont Supreme Court
(Montpelier, VT, Aug. 13, 2010)
Governor Douglas, Senator Leahy, Chief Justice Reiber,
family and friends:
Thank you for the honor you do me by attending this
ceremony. Thank you Justice Burgess for your generous
introductory remarks. Brian Burgess served as Deputy Attorney
General when I was Attorney General. I doubt that either of
us could have foreseen this day but here we are together
again. History may not repeat itself, but it sometimes
rhymes.
Thank you Kenneth McIntosh Daly--artist, rancher, and
friend who has once again made the trip from California to
Vermont.
And thank you to my daughters Katherine, Christina, and
Nancy for the unveiling.
This September I begin my seventh year as a Fellow at the
Harvard Kennedy School nearly as long as I served on the
Supreme Court of Vermont.
For those of you wondering how a Harvard Fellow spends his
time, I can say I have spent the better part of the last two
years living in the nineteenth century--more precisely in the
Boston of the decade before the Civil War.
It was a time when a young man working as a waiter in a
coffee house, or a clerk in a clothing store, could be seized
by agents of the United States Government, brought before a
Judge, and under the provisions of the new Fugitive Slave Law
(where no process was due), be sent back into slavery.
Contrary to what I thought I knew about American history,
Boston in the period leading up to the Civil War, was in the
words of Charles Francis Adams, Jr., ``almost avowedly a
proslavery community.'' ``It was a time'' wrote Emerson,
``when judges, bank presidents, railroad men, men of fashion,
and lawyers universally all took the side of slavery.''
Well, almost all. I am interested in understanding how a
society, and particularly the legal establishment of 1850s
Boston, was transformed from the beginning of the decade when
Daniel Webster said ``no lawyer who makes more than $40 a
year is against the Fugitive Slave Law,'' to the end of the
decade when lawyers literally went to war against it.
My window on that time, curiously enough, opened when I saw
a portrait of a lawyer of that period.
So this day, for many reasons, has prompted me to look to a
future as far removed from us today as the Boston of 1850. A
century from now when each of us will be someone's memory,
there will be, I trust, remembrances of things past.
In some building if not this one, there will be a wall
where portraits of forgotten Chief Justices still hang--or
where an enterprising curator has retrieved old paintings and
artifacts for an exhibit of our times.
And on some class field trip (for those will always be with
us), among a group of very bored students, there may be (if
the world is lucky to still have teachers as inspiring as
Mrs. Amestoy), a bright, curious student who will pause in
front of this painting.
She will not, of course, recognize its subject, but as she
looks through the window in the portrait, she will see Mt.
Mansfield. And the window of the painting will begin to open
for her a window on our time.
Our young historian will immerse herself in the flood of
newspapers, opinions, and books of those long ago days at the
beginning of the twenty-first century. On the basis of the
documentation and her own insight, she will attempt to bring
to life the color and passion when the social changes were so
profound that even on our own time scholars characterized the
upheaval as ``The Great Disruption.''
If our young scholar has had a history teacher as good as
Mr. Remington, she will know she cannot rely on a single
perspective. (In any event, my autobiography, The
Indispensable Man, will long be out of print). But our future
historian will be struck, as many historians have been, by
the disproportionate impact Vermont has had on American
history. She will not lack in material looking back at our
time.
One Vermont Senator whose unparalleled leadership of the
Senate Judiciary Committee, and pivotal endorsement of
America's first African-American President, will echo down
the halls of history; another whose rejection of the narrow
partisanship of his party realigned the political balance of
the United States Senate. A Governor whose candidacy for the
Presidency altered the nature of presidential campaigns;
another whose exemplary service at the beginning of the
twenty-first century reflected the virtues Vermont's
eighteenth century constitution calls ``absolutely necessary
. . . the firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance,
industry, and frugality.''
Our historian will read of an opinion of the Vermont
Supreme Court that framed a debate for a nation. And of the
people of Vermont who demonstrated what the result is when
that debate is conducted with respect and resolved in
humanity.
If the Vermont of the twenty-second century is as blessed
as ours, there will still be a justice system that ``speaks
for principle and listens for change.'' Just as the
Commission on the Future of Vermont's Justice System
envisioned when on the eve of the twenty-first century a new
Chief Justice wrote: ``if the future is realized in the way
every member of the Commission devoutly wishes it to be, a
century hence our successors will
[[Page S7607]]
hear these fundamental principles resonate as clearly as we
hear them resonate today.''
I am optimistic about that future. How could I not be with
these daughters?
This portrait (assuming, of course, it is actually hung)
may gather dust well into the next century. As school field
trips will endure, I am confident that so too will the duty
of new law clerks to conduct students on tours.
To the question: ``Who is that in the painting?'' I trust
that current and future clerks will always know the answer
is: ``A Vermonter.''
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