In re: T.R. – Part 4

           On August 27, 1990, I arrived at home about 9:30 in the evening from a Columbus Clippers baseball game. A Franklin County Sheriff's cruiser was parked in front of our house.

            Earlier that day, after several days of trial, I had written and distributed my decision in the custody case of Tessa Reams. The trial had gone as most custody cases proceeded. The focus was on which of the claimants for the role of custodian was most likely to provide for the best interests of the child. Both Richard Reams and Beverly Seymour had testified, as did several other relatives and friends. The Guardian ad Litem made his recommendation.

            In my decision, I noted that Ms. Seymour had acted in a manner not conducive to the child's best interest by attempting to exploit the situation and to gain publicity for her position, which had led to the need for me to close the courtroom proceedings to the public and issue a gag order. Also highly relevant was my determination that Mr. Reams was far more likely to support a relationship between Tessa and Beverly, while Beverly had made it clear that her animus toward Richard would negatively impact his relationship with the child.

            At the end, I decided to grant custody of Tessa to Richard, her father figure, and to permit Beverly to have regular visitation with the child.

            I asked the deputy what he was doing there. What he told me nearly stopped my heart: Beverly Seymour had shot and killed Richard Reams and she was being sought by the police. Until she was apprehended, the Sheriff had determined to keep an eye on me and my family. Shortly thereafter, we learned that Beverly was in custody.

            News reports indicated that, after receiving a copy of my decision from his lawyer, Richard had traveled to Beverly's home in Ashville, Ohio, to obtain possession of Tessa. After some altercation, Beverly produced a pistol and shot and killed Richard. Eventually, Beverly was convicted of voluntary manslaughter and sentenced to 11 years in prison.

            Following another brief hearing, I granted custody of Tessa to Mr. Reams' mother, who raised her away from Central Ohio. Today, Tessa Reams is 30-years-old.

* * * * *

 The Columbus Dispatch and its publisher did not forgive my audacity in defending against the lawsuit over the closure and gag orders. I quickly learned that a vendetta was in the offing when an editorial in the Dispatch blamed me for the murder of Richard Reams. The editorial asserted that, had Beverly been permitted to air her case in public, she would not have been so angry and probably would not have confronted and murdered Mr. Reams.

That was just the beginning. Over the next four years prior to my campaign for re-election, the newspaper hammered me over every decision I made. In an article in American Journalism Review, published in June, 2000, author John Widklein recounted the history of the management of the Dispatch by the Wolfe family, and the attitude of the Dispatch toward anyone who crossed them. He wrote:

The family could also be tough on public figures who crossed them. Early in the '90s, Judge Ronald L. Solove angered the Wolfes by barring reporters from his juvenile court. The paper appealed the decision, but lost. To gloat, Solove put up a computer-generated banner in his office that read, "Who's afraid of the big bad Wolfe?"--in this case, meaning John F. That was enough. With editorials and a cascade of nit-picking stories, the paper helped bring about Solove's defeat in the next election.

            The final blow to my re-election chances was my handling of a case against a child of 16 who, with her mother, had been involved in the beating death of a woman as a result of a drug deal gone bad. The case came before me, just a few weeks before the election scheduled for November 1994, to determine if the child should be tried as an adult. Having listened to testimony which convinced me that the child essentially had been compelled to participate by her mother, that she had no previous juvenile record, and that she stood a good chance of being rehabilitated in the juvenile court system, I decided that she would remain under the jurisdiction of the Franklin County Juvenile Court.

            After the hearing, I called the child's defense counsel aside and told him that the case would surely cost me the election, and that I expected him to support my family in the future. We both had a hardy laugh. Of course, the Dispatch excoriated me over the outcome of the case. A few weeks later, the election was lost, my career as a judge was over, and, on January 5, 1995, I entered into the private practice of Family Law.

            Although In re: T.R. changed my life, it certainly did so for the better. The last 20 years of private practice have been the best of my professional career, providing me with the opportunity to work with wonderful people and to enjoy the kind of professional freedom denied to judges. And, of course, the economic benefits have been rewarding as well. Every year when I review and sign my tax returns, I whisper a quiet "thank you" to the Wolfe family and the career guidance they provided.

            And, I did the right thing.