A Sketch of A Visit To The Supreme Court
Up at 3:45 A.M. At the Supreme Court by 5:45 A.M. A cold, windy day, with a hint of rain—the sun not up and the clouds grey in the sky. The court building, still under scaffolding, was illuminated slightly by a yellow street lamp. The Capital building dome glowed in dark, across the street.
This was where Martin Luther King Jr. stood. This was where cases of great import were made. Here all the foolishness and triumph of laws and interpretations. Here all the intricacies of legal argument, making life or death decisions.
I was the first at the line, waiting under a leafless tree. The next people arrived within the next fifteen minutes—two young Democratic staffers for a New Jersey Senator. We talked politics for hours as we waited in line—the fiscal cliff, California legislation, human nature, abortion rights. Dozens more people began to line up behind us. By 7:00 A.M., we were cold and tired, and the security guard finally started handing out tickets saving our place in line.
We went through airport-style security, then glimpsed the elegant marble-lined walls underneath the Supreme Court building. Bronze doors and elevators, winding marble staircases, and stern statues of former Supreme Court justices greeted us.
But the wait was a let-down. I sat with the Senate staffers and a political science student in the basement cafeteria. Talking about Scottish politics, favorite Supreme Court Justices, and swapping stories is only fun for so long. By 8:30 a.m., we were ready to go, and lined up in numerical order in the white hallways. Lawyers and reporters in suits and business dresses walked up the stairway to the Supreme Court.
We caught sight of the plaintiff in the case, a member of the armed forces, dressed in the blue uniform, with full colors on his breast and sergeant stripes on his arm. A group of red-headed children were escorted up the stairs—perhaps relatives of the family.
Seeing the children brought him the magnitude of this custody case. The father, in the U.S. military, had met the mother in Scotland. The came to America, but had a bitter divorce. Their young daughter was caught up in the custody battle. A district court found that the child’s habitual residence under a Hague Anti-Abduction Treaty, was in Scotland. It denied the father’s request for a stay. The mother left, with daughter in tow, that same day. They have lived in Scotland ever since, but the father wants a right to appeal the district court decision. This case would decide whether he could make that appeal.
Finally, by 9:15 a.m., our time comes. The theater-style velvet rope is pulled back, and we ascend the pale staircase, under rows and rows of intricately-veined stone arches. The thrill of the experience blurs it all together, making the experience surreal. I run to put my bag and coat into a locker, place in a quarter, pull the key, and run back to the court hall.
The main hall is grand, with massive pillars in rows, supporting a vaulted ceiling covered with designs and flourishes. The floor is marble, the walls are marble, the statues are marble—everything is marble. A ten foot high bronze double door stands at the front of the hall, at the other, another high door, with rich red tapestries draped along each side. I run towards the door, wanting to be first in the courtroom.
After another run through air-port style security, this time with more vigor, I stand first in line, and hand my ticket to the usher. I finally enter the Supreme Court room.
The square ceiling is full of light, carved all around with stone images of lawgivers throughout history. Flowers and ferns and bright colors adorn the flat roof. Giant red velvet tapestries are draped all around the room, framing the long brown podium, behind which sit nine black empty chairs. Lawyers and family members fill the room, and we are seated in the last two rows.
The seating is on pews or chairs—the view is all flat. I try to look around a woman’s large hair, and around a man’s shoulders. You can still see, but not without effort.
After another forty minutes waiting in the courtroom, a sound chimes, we all stand, and voice cries out “Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!” and announces the arrival of the Justices of the Supreme Court. Roberts in the middle maintains a mild equipoise. Ginsburg and Scalia are both small—Ginsburg tiny and hunched, Scalia red-faced with bushy eyebrows. Kennedy is non-descript, Breyer bald and expressive, Alito serious and long-faced. Thomas is white-haired and looks tired. Kagan, looking smooth-faced and young in comparison to the rest, bookends the court with a bag-eyed Sotomayor on the other side of the bench.
Counsel for the father begins oral argument, followed by the Scottish-accented representative of the other side. All the Justices grill the Scottish counsel, who emphatically declares that there is “zero” remedy that could be offered in this case. Counsel for the father seems more nuanced, more strategic, emphasizing that even the possibility of a remedy would avoid mootness. A representative for the United States also strongly argues for the right of the father to appeal.
Ginsburg immediately questions the counsel, and continues to aggressively argue for the mother’s side. She seems to see no remedy possible in this case, to the detriment of the child. Further appeal could shuttle the child back and forth between countries, against the purposes of the treaty. Sotomayor calmly attempts to elicit her point- that this proceeding would simply provide an opportunity for American courts to decide on this issue, which could then influence Scottish proceedings.
Alito seems to agree, although he questions the practical purpose of the return. Kennedy also enters into the debate at times-- I admit that I do not remember what he said. Kennedy has such a bland character and style-- neither mild nor passionate-- he is easy to overlook and forget.
Scalia, true to character scrunches up his face, continually saying “that’s all very nice, but how does it relate to this case?” He grills counsel for not answering his question. He rolls back in his chair and looks pained whenever someone makes a point that he does not understand or agree with. Roberts asks a mild but pointed question about the costs associated with this case—would not those be a remedy that would avoid making this case moot? Roberts continues with soft-spoken, clearly articulated, and difficult questions, and listens quietly to the answer.
Breyer finally enters the fray, making wry comments that make the audience laugh. He argues both sides of the case, at times. He points out that the piece of paper from the American court could be of benefit to the Scottish custody proceedings. Yet the 18 months that have passed may make the question of habitual residence moot. He smiles, makes a point, and encourages counsel “please tell me how I’m wrong.” Between questions, he leans back and makes Justice Thomas laugh with some off-mike comment.
Thomas, of course, makes no questions, continuing his nine-year reign of silence on the bench. Mostly he watches the speakers with mild interest. He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. He rubs his cheeks and brow. He looks tired and uninterested.
At last Kagan enters the case, which has been dominated primarily by Ginsburg and Sotomayor. She gives the counsel two options about which case he is making. He chooses option number three, to the amusement of the audience.
At the end, it looked like Sotomayor, Alito, and Kagan were for the father, and probably Scalia. Ginsburg and Roberts were for the mother. Breyer started for the father, but started leaning towards the mother. For Thomas, there was no way to tell. This case had none of the liberal-conservative split so common in highly-politicized cases.
Over all, an incredible experience, certainly worth the wait. The ideas exchanged for sharp and engaging (for a lawyer), and the stakes were high. But the laymen in the audience were bored out of their minds—one Senate staffer even fell asleep a few times. It is certainly not for everyone. But for a lover of the intricacies of the law, it is a heady experience, and one which I am so glad to have experienced.