Pickup basketball.

AuthorOlson, Peter L.
PositionHistorical fiction

The second floor of a nondescript building on Pennsylvania Avenue was the longtime home of The Barrister. Until it was razed to make way for what is now the Department of Justice, The Barrister was a gentleman's club without equal in all of Washington, D.C.

Beyond its foyer and cloakroom, The Barrister included a lounge that opened into a large dining room. The lounge had a small bar along one end, and what wasn't paneled with mahogany was paneled with decanters or mirrors. Seven conversation-conducive settings, each containing darkly upholstered wing-backed chairs surrounding a low table, were arrayed around a central fireplace. The New Dealers typically began to arrive at about six o'clock, and many wouldn't leave until after they had said their piece--or midnight, whichever came later.

January of 1935 was among the coldest months in recent memory. Thick wool coats filled the cloak room, overhanging rows of overshoes. When Abe Fortas arrived at about 6:20, he stood for a moment in the foyer without taking off his coat, seemingly waiting for the heat from the fire to warm his face. Fortas, at 25, was already recognized as one of the brightest of the young New Dealers, having recently forged an academic record at the Yale Law School that was so impressive that he was asked to join the law school faculty upon graduation. He was joined almost immediately by William O. Douglas, his professor while at Yale. Following his graduation, Fortas had worked periodically with Douglas on empirical studies related to securities. They soon adjourned to a table near the fire, inclined as Douglas was to feel nearer the outdoors.

"... things have changed since you left," Douglas observed.

"I can imagine. How is the administration treating you?" Fortas asked. Douglas was widely known as a nonconformist, much to the chagrin of those who tried to harness his great talent.

"As well as can be expected," Douglas said. "I think that they're afraid of me, though I'm not exactly sure why. No sense in disabusing them of that notion...."

"Excuse me," boomed a deep voice. "I'm deeply sorry to disturb you, but I'm told that we share an interest in the American West."

Douglas didn't recognize Earl Warren, then District Attorney for Alameda County, California. Warren would soon be elected the Attorney General of California, and later its three-term Governor. He was a bear of a man, and his hair had not yet begun to turn toward the trademark gray that would characterize him in his later years. Warren, a Californian, and Douglas, a Washington state native, were among several prominent Westerners who would later come to Washington D.C. to work for the federal government.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Bill Douglas, and this is my young protege, Abe Fortas," Douglas said.

"I'm Earl Warren. I've been told that you are destined for great things in Washington, Mr. Douglas," Warren replied. He was right. Just two years later, at the age of 38, Douglas would be named the head of the recently formed Securities Exchange Commission, and after being appointed to the Supreme Court in 1939, he would go on to serve for 34 years, longer than anyone else in history.

"Well, I hope that your source is otherwise more reliable," Douglas replied. Douglas was normally aloof, but on this occasion he was warm, almost inviting. It could have been due to Douglas's upcoming trip to Goose Prairie, his summer home in Washington, or the two glasses of sherry that Douglas had had before Warren's arrival.

As Warren joined his future colleagues at the table, a roar of laughter erupted from the back corner of the lounge. Second term Alabama Senator Hugo Black had just finished regaling the assembled group with another of his many stories, told with the skill of a seasoned politician. Charles Evans Hughes, the current Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, was also at the table, along with Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis and two others. Hughes's presence at a table with Black would have astonished detached political observers, because Black had led the Senate fight against Hughes when the latter was nominated by Herbert Hoover for the position of Chief Justice. Five years later even Black had to concede that Hughes was a jurist and administrator of the highest order, and the two got on well whenever they met.

Slowly, the fire rustled and the room cooled as the winter wind swept through the open door and into the lounge. As an attendant ran to close it, Robert H. Jackson and John Marshall Harlan walked through the door, each shaking off the effects of the cold. Jackson and Harlan were both New York lawyers, and although Jackson was the more senior, people who saw them together assumed from Harlan's erect bearing and formal manner that he was at least as old as Jackson. Harlan would later assume Jackson's seat on the Supreme Court when the latter was felled by a heart attack at the age of 62. Jackson was then General Counsel to the Internal Revenue Service, and Harlan had come to Washington from New York to observe oral argument at the Supreme Court. The room had begun to fill, and the table at which they were seated was roughly between Douglas's and Black's.

By 7:30, those in the lounge who had not eaten were moving to the dining room, and those who had arrived early were finishing their dessert and taking their coffee in the lounge. Among them was Felix Frankfurter, the Harvard Law School professor, and his former student William Brennan. As usual, Frankfurter was engaged in Socratic dialogue with Brennan and two others as they moved toward the lounge. Before being seated, Frankfurter used Brennan's introduction as a...

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