Some of the greatest leaders Michigan has had over the last four decades were in U.S. District Judge Avern Cohn’s courtroom yesterday. Former U.S. Senator Carl Levin was there, along with his brother Sandy, each of whom served in Congress for thirty-six years.
Mayor Mike Duggan, whose father was a longtime colleague of Judge Cohn’s, was there too, as were many other federal judges and some other leading figures in the legal community.
The occasion wasn’t a big trial or momentous decision, but Judge Cohn’s 95th birthday. Most people don’t make it to 95, and most who do retired long ago. Judge Cohn, who was nominated and confirmed by the U.S. Senate forty years ago this fall, officially took what’s called “senior status,” years ago, but still presides over many cases.
If that makes you want to lift an eyebrow, don’t. Avern Cohn, who I know fairly well, is physically frail. But I can only wish I were as alert mentally as he is. Not long ago, we were discussing a book by Doris Kearns Goodwin about politics and journalism in the late 19th century.
“On page such-and-such she entirely misinterprets an appellate decision,” he told me. I looked it up. He’d given me, from memory, the right page. He doesn’t choose which cases he presides over; he gets them through a random draw.
“I always say that if a judge wants a case, he shouldn’t have it,” he told me once, by which he meant that justice should be truly blind and impartial. He did confess that there is one type of case he particularly enjoys: Long complicated patent cases, some of which last months.
“I like those because I have to learn a lot of new information,” he said. Judge Cohn always strives to be fair, and nobody has ever questioned his formidable intellect. But he can be scathing — and woe unto the lawyer who appears in his courtroom unprepared.
I watched yesterday as men and women highly accomplished in their own right paid tribute to Avern Cohn, who is also one of the dwindling few Americans who served in the army during World War II. The man who put him on the bench couldn’t come because of a broken hip – but President Jimmy Carter did send a letter. Justice Cohn was born when Calvin Coolidge was president, and there were still plenty of men alive who had fought in the Civil War.
Radio was relatively new then and television didn’t exist. Judge Cohn, who took the bench when the electric typewriter was state of the art, now sends off a constant stream of emails, sometimes with attachments, with subject lines that say “may be of interest.” They always are.
Denise Page Hood, the chief judge in this division of the federal court, observed yesterday that these “Averngrams” should really be labeled, simply, “read this.” And we always do.
Once, I asked Judge Cohn if he regretted not having been named a federal appeals judge. “Absolutely not!” he barked. Appellate judges, he explained, spend their lives reading other judges’ decisions. Judge Cohn reads more books than anyone I have ever known.
But he loves the arena, and interacting with people. As I watched him being honored by the brothers Levin, I felt both inspired and sad. Within a very few years, we may well lose some of these men, men who helped shape the world in which I was born.
Later, when the judge rose to thank those who came, I couldn’t help but think of the famous line from To Kill a Mockingbird. When Atticus Finch loses the case and prepares to leave the courtroom, a preacher tells Scout, “stand up. Your father’s passing.”
I was proud to stand for Judge Cohn. But I am still not ready for him, or the other giants of his generation, to pass away from us.
