chapter 15 USC School of Law, Returning Home

Page 190 →While at the American Bar Association in 1972, I received a call from Professor Robert Felix, a senior faculty member at the USC School of Law. He wanted to know whether I had an interest in teaching a summer law course to a group of talented Black college students who aspired to attend law school. I have always had a commitment to teaching African Americans and took on student counselor positions in both college and law school. In the summer of 1967, after graduating from USC, I participated as a counselor in the Upward Bound program funded by the US Department of Education. The program had a mission of identifying talented Black high school students from underserved communities and motivating and preparing them for the academic rigors of college. Similarly, in the summer of 1968 as a Harvard law student, I worked as a student counselor in the Council on Legal Education Opportunity program sponsored by the Law School and the Ford Foundation. The program was designed to diversify the legal profession by providing underrepresented students with academic assistance to enable them to attend and succeed in law school through preparatory coursework and other support.

Longing to return home, I accepted the offer. I taught a course on Product Liability, a segment of Tort law, dealing with personal injury caused by defective consumer products. This was an area of law I had enjoyed in law school. My first experience teaching law was exhilarating. I found the students to be very interesting and Page 191 →bright. I followed the progress of a few of those students over the years and witnessed their successes in law school and professional life thereafter. I especially remember Mary Alice Gresham Bullock, who became professor and dean of the Howard University School of Law.

A year after that successful summer, I was asked to join the law faculty at USC. Since I felt good about the experience, I accepted the challenge to teach full-time. The southern novelist Tom Wolff wrote that you can’t go home again, and I wanted to see whether that adage applied to me. I lived at home in Orangeburg during my first year of teaching. That was my first experience of living with my parents as an adult. Because of my father’s out-of-state work travel, I was basically living with my mother. We got to know each other on a different level. I was rarely around the house, leaving for Columbia early in the morning and returning at night. Since my commute to the law school was 40 miles each way, I stayed in my office after class to prepare for the next day of classes. Sometimes my mother would wait for me to eat dinner, but most of time she went ahead without me.

When I joined the faculty, the law school was full of promise. It had recently moved from its Greene Street location in the Pettigrew building to a newly constructed Law Center on lower Main Street. The new facility provided more space for expansion of the student body, faculty, and course offerings. The faculty had been enlarged with the addition of several young teachers, who were educated mostly at eastern law schools. Several of them took Master of Law degrees at Harvard Law School. My classmate from Harvard Law, Dennis Nolan, had recently joined the faculty. The new composition of the faculty was divided between the old guard and the new young Turks. The old guard ran the law school and had several distinguished professors, including Robert Foster, David Means, Coleman Karesh (emeritus), Charles Randall, Webster Myers, and Harry Lightsey. There was some friction between the old guard and new recruits, who constantly pushed for curriculum, pedagogical, Page 192 →and scholarship improvements. Notwithstanding the differences of views over how the law school should be run, we were a collegial faculty who respected each other’s point of view. Although I hung out socially with younger faculty members, my views about how the law school should be run comported more with the old guard than the young Turks.

I taught three law courses: contracts, insurance, and negotiable instruments. Contract law was my favorite because of the influence that Professor Byse had on me at Harvard. I taught insurance law to gain a better insight into my father’s work in the insurance industry. Further, I was inspired by a wonderful insurance law professor, Robert Keeton, a courtly gentleman from Texas with a charming southern drawl. Professor Keeton played a key role in advancing the no-fault automobile insurance concept. He was later appointed a federal district court judge in Boston.

I remember well my first day of class as a law professor teaching contract law. As a twenty-six-year-old professor, I was anxious about whether I would quickly gain credibility as a teacher among my students, many of whom were my age or older. I felt that I needed to demonstrate my pedagogical prowess with a cleaver feat that would dazzle them. As an undergraduate at USC, my American History teacher at Currell College, Professor George Rogers, dazzled us with his ability to match the names with faces of about a hundred students he had never personally seen before. The methodology entailed studying the pictures and accompanying names of students on the class seating chart until you could visualize matching the faces with names. Then, on the first day of class, you ask each student to pronounce his or her name in the order listed on the seating chart. I was daring enough to attempt this exercise in mental gymnastics with my maiden contract law class. To my students’ amazement, and mine as well, I flawlessly matched the names and faces of about a hundred students I had never personally seen before. After this feat, my students thought I was brilliant.

Page 193 →After I had their attention, I tried to give my students a broad perspective of how contract law permeates our everyday lives, although often unnoticed. After explaining how contract law affects the food we purchase, the apartment we lease or house we buy, the tuition we pay, the checks we write, the job we work, the movie we watch, and the car we repair, I concluded with an intriguing thought: “And even when you say your prayers at night before bed, you have allegedly created a contract with God to enter the kingdom of heaven.”¹

I used the Socratic method in teaching Contract Law. The pedagogical method most college students are accustomed to is listening to lectures by professors. Students take copious notes and apply what they have learned at examination time. The Socratic method is radically different and involves engaging students with questions about the case law they have read. There are no neat and easy answers to the legal questions presented in the case materials that are assigned. Students are compelled to reason with the professor to deduce the possible answers to the queries. Students are often frustrated and uncomfortable with this approach to learning, at first, because one answer always leads to another question, and on ad infinitum. However, over time, students learn that the key point of this incessant question and answer approach is to develop a method of analyzing legal problems.

I became a master at using the Socratic method. This approach to teaching requires a great deal of preparation by the professor. It often required me to spend four hours of preparation time for one hour of class time because a teacher needs to explore multiple possibilities of resolving a legal issue, requiring access to many secondary sources of research. By and large, most of my students appreciated the excitement of these mental gymnastics. Teaching law is generally colorblind, agnostic, for the same issues often arise no matter what ethic group you are a part of. After you have mastered the principles of law, then you can use those skills to try to bring about social change.

Page 194 →My first year of teaching was a success. I enjoyed the intellectual interaction with my students. I discovered that my students often referred to me as “Gentleman Jim,” likely because of my affable and courtly nature. After my final Contracts class, a white student approached me and thanked me for teaching him. He said: “In my many years of education, you are the first Black person to teach me. I thank you for that.” I reflected on those words long after they were spoken. I then recognized a broader mission to my presence at USC. Certainly, I was there to enhance the education of Black students. But equally important was the task of relating to white students. I realized that I had a platform to change many attitudes and perceptions about having a relationship with a Black person.

Dean Robert Foster appointed me to serve on the admissions committee. That assignment proved useful. My goal was to increase the enrollment of Black students. If the dean wanted a particular student admitted for reasons benefiting the law school, I would go along with his recommendation, expecting that he would reciprocate for one of my candidates. Together we built a very talented, interesting, and diverse class.

I relished being accepted as a colleague by former professors. I was invited to dine with Professor Abernathy, which was a quintessential experience since I had revered him as a student. Professors Fowler, Randall, Means, Myers, and Karesh were equally generous. Professor Karesh share his contract law notes which he had compiled over years of teaching and discussed some legal concepts with me. I was invited to join offshore fishing trips to Morehead City, North Carolina, and Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, with Dean Foster and Professors Myers and Means. I felt good about being a part of a scholarly and caring faculty.

Notwithstanding a successful year of teaching, I longed to return to Cambridge again. My first year of teaching was all work. My daily commuting left little room for any meaningful social life, and most of my friendships were professional. I asked Dean Foster for a leave Page 195 →of absence; he understood my plight and did not hesitate to grant my request. He likely felt that if there was any chance of retaining me on the faculty, he had to accommodate me.

I returned to Cambridge and affiliated with a small partnership specializing in tax law. However, after a few months of work, I parted ways after observing some unethical practices at the firm. I didn’t think this would happen so soon after departing USC, but after a short bout with law practice, I found myself longing to teach again. As a long shot, I sought an adjunct teaching position at Boston University School of Law. I interviewed with Professor Robert Monahan, head of the appointments committee, and upon receiving a positive reference from USC, I was offered a position. I was asked to teach Trusts and Estates. I had to hustle to prepare for that course because, although I studied estate planning at Harvard, there was a great deal to learn. Although I had to adjust to a totally new law school environment, I enjoyed the challenge and exhilaration of the classroom again. I acquitted myself well with the course and wanted to return to USC.

I matured during my leave and learned that success at anything does not come quickly. I decided to settle in and learn to be an effective teacher. I was happy to return to USC. I made some changes that were the source of my unhappiness before. First and foremost, I got an apartment in Columbia, thereby saving myself the burden of commuting from Orangeburg.

Because I now had time, I began engaging more with Black students. I offered suggestions to the Black Law Student Association on how to raise its profile on campus. I arranged to have a Black law school friend, Judge Robert M. Bell, then sitting on the District Court of Maryland, to speak at the annual dinner of the association. The event drew a large gathering, including representation from the faculty. The following year, Judge George N. Leighton, a Black federal district judge in Illinois, spoke at the annual dinner.

I enjoyed refreshing my relationship with several good friends on Page 196 →the faculty. Walter Reiser was very supportive. I first met Walter at Harvard Law, where he was director of the legal method program. All first-year law students were required to take a course that taught us how to do legal research, write a legal brief, and make an oral argument. Walter was instrumental in urging me to teach at USC. When Walter left Harvard to take a law professorship at USC, specializing in evidence, he put me on a wish list of people to be recruited to join the faculty. That plan took fruition when I was invited to teach in the special summer program. Walter had a wonderful wife, Martha Rainsford Reiser, from Edgefield, South Carolina, who spoke with a dramatic Southern drawl. She easily could have been cast in Gone with the Wind.

Since I was close in age to most of my students, I often fraternized with them. I played rugby with a group of students and faculty members at USC. Rugby was a club sport, which enabled students and teachers to play together. I learned the game by playing with the American University Rugby Club in Washington, DC, while working in the city in 1972. I love the game and played wing position because I was a fast runner and could kick. Since rugby players tend to be rowdy, and sometimes bawdy, at parties after rugby matches, I had to be careful to set the right example for students. When a student journalist got wind of my rugby exploits, he wrote an article about me titled “Law Professor Plays ‘Weird Football.’” The article featured my sports philosophy of “sound body, sound mind” and highlighted one of my primary goals for teaching at USC: “As the first black professor at the Law School, Jim has found it refreshing to hear from his [white] students that they felt fortunate to have the opportunity to study with a black professor knowing that they would have missed a growth experience otherwise.”

Separated by only three city blocks, the law school and the South Carolina legislature had close ties. One of my colleagues at the law school, Harry Lightsey, had been a very influential legal advisor to several Senate committees. He continued to counsel the legislature Page 197 →during his tenue as a professor and later as dean of USC School of Law. He later became president of the College of Charleston. By virtue of my position as professor of Insurance Law, I was invited by the legislative Insurance Committee to counsel the chairman of the committee on the adoption of no-fault auto insurance legislation. In a small and insular state like South Carolina, many law professors played a role counseling the legislature.

A good friend, William “Bill” Campbell, served in the state House of Representatives. He was the legislative leader on many important issues, including juvenile criminal justice, the environment, and transportation. Bill supported the civil rights cause of his close friend, Modjeska Monteith Simkins, a civil rights activist in Columbia and the aunt of Henrie Monteith, who desegrated USC. Bill contributed greatly to my social life while in Columbia. He invited me to theatre, movies, and other social events. I remember attending an oyster roast, where I met several of his political friends. An oyster roast is a South Carolina Lowcountry culinary treat, where cluster oysters are spread on a large metal slab covered with wet burlap over an open fire. The oysters are shucked using an oyster knife and gloves.

My new life at USC was going well until, again, I started to evaluate my career calling. While I was complimented on the effectiveness of my teaching, I felt that I had not given law practice a chance and wanted to get back in the legal mainstream. Besides, if I decided to return to law teaching, I would be a more effective teacher having gained experience with the practical application of legal principles to real-world controversies.

When I informed Acting Dean Harry Haynsworth of my resignation, the special assistant to the provost, Keith Davis, instructed the dean not to accept it. He wanted assurance that a plan was in place to replace me as soon as possible with another Black professor. He pointed to the “nation-wide shortage of Black lawyers,” and the value of a Black professor who “would be better able to communicate with the Black students and thus build their confidence and morale.” Page 198 →Further, he pointed out the value to “the entire student body” of having a “professional environment” that “enhances the students’ ability to function in multi-ethnic settings.”² Dean Haynsworth agreed with Mr. Davis’s assessment and tried to persuade me to stay. When confronted with the university’s true concern about having a diverse faculty and student body, I reconsidered my resignation. However, on balance, I felt an imperative to reenter active law practice for my own professional development.

I seriously considered staying in South Carolina to get my much-needed law practice experience. Randall “Randy” Bell, a colleague and close friend on the faculty at the USC law school, who later became a judge on the South Carolina Supreme Court, arranged an introduction with former Governor Robert McNair, who presided over a prominent law firm in Columbia. Randy had been doing some part-time work at McNair’s firm and had a stellar reputation there. I interviewed Governor McNair and other key partners at the firm, and at the conclusion, felt that I had made a favorable impression. However, for an unknown reason, I did not get an offer. I surmised that Governor McNair felt that the time was not ripe to have an African American senior counsel or partner at his firm. At that time, no major law firm in South Carolina had Black lawyers.

Governor McNair’s decision not to hire me was mystifying since his standing with the African American community had eroded. The Orangeburg Massacre, where two South Carolina State College students and one Wilkinson High School student were killed after protesting at a segregated bowling alley, happened on his watch as governor. That tragic event damaged his relationship with the African American community, which had viewed him favorably before the shootings for his good works as a progressive governor. In the 1968 presidential race, Senator Hubert Humphrey seriously considered McNair as his vice-presidential running mate until opposition surfaced from the African American community.

Page 199 →I transitioned back into law practice through a generous offer from Rod Hills, my former teacher and friend. During the last year of his term, President Ford asked Rod to become chairman of the SEC. Rod asked me to join him at the SEC in the role of Attorney Fellow. That position was designed to bring into the SEC fresh legal talent from academia. I joined the SEC in June 1977 after finishing the semester at USC.