I am truly honored to join you today in dedicating the L. Edward Friend II Bankruptcy Courtroom.
Let me first congratulate the Federal Court of the Northern District of West Virginia and all of its personnel for making this cutting-edge, optimally accessible courtroom a reality.
I also want to congratulate Bankruptcy Judge Patrick M. Flatley for guiding this Court’s proud tradition of helping the poor of West Virginia, and its’ beleaguered businesses to new heights.
Finally, this victory in achieving a dedication at the Wheeling Federal Courthouse could not have been achieved without the help and support of our other Federal Judges here today: Chief Judge Fred Stamp, Judge John Bailey, Magistrate Jack Kaul, and of course the Bankruptcy Judge who heard so many of Ed Friend’s old cases during the ascendancy of Judge Flatley to the bench, Ron Pearson. Your honors, this dedication is a testament to our Federal Court’s tradition of honoring Federal service, and an example to others of what working together may accomplish.
I am also pleased with the Friend Courtroom for the contribution it will make to advance the cause of modern bankruptcy practice. This year we mark the 5th anniversary of the BAPCPA, which aims to eradicate the abuses of the few, and provide a solid system of recovery from financial ruin that the 1.5 Million Americans filing for bankruptcy face every day.
It was my great privilege to serve as Debtors’ (and creditors’) counsel during the tenure of Ed Friend as Judge, and before that as a colleague, a personal friend and neighbor.
For me, Judge Friend’s reign represented a truly unique opportunity to merge my legal practice, my comradeship with financial lawyers, and my personal life.
In 1966, when I was a young boy in my home town of Morgantown, West Virginia,
my family moved to Preston Road, next door to Leon “Dink” Friend, his wife “Louisey” and their growing family. Their oldest son was Ed, and he, his sister
and brother had what seemed an idyllic upbringing to me. Laughter always seemed to be floating down through the trees from the Friend household. In later years we often saw one another at the annual Preston Road Promenade, spent going from house to house on Christmas day, cleaning up any leftover turkey, cookies, fruitcake, and of course, all the eggnog.
Later, after three years of struggle, I somehow graduated from the WVU School of Law, and was lucky enough to get a job with another alumnus of the Preston Road Promenade, Steve Shuman, whose devotion to work was also marked by affinity and affection for a young trial lawyer with offices across the street, L. Edward Friend II. We all practiced on some cases together, and it was with them as lead counsel that I filed my first Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 1981.
It is because of this close upbringing and practice that it has often been said of me that the only smart thing I ever did was to grow up next to Steve Shuman and Ed Friend. My wife is quick to point out that I also married her. She says that was the other smart thing that I did.
It was only a few years later that Ed Friend left for the U.S. Attorney’s office in Wheeling, and from there was nominated to the office of federal bankruptcy judge. No one could have been prouder than Steve Shuman and I, and we immediately inundated him with reams of completely baseless, disaster-coursed cases in which he was proud to rule against us. In doing so he captured something of that personal style which produced such a remarkable tenure for him and his Court family. Because of course that was what we were all treated as – as if we were family. But more on that in a moment.
You could also see Ed Friend’s deep interest in achieving some measure of justice for those without, those on the ropes, and those commencing the long climb back from financial ruin. Ed’s actions were always – and obviously - grounded in a deep concern about people and their right to begin their lives again after a business failure, the loss of a job, a long illness, or a divorce. One of the driving forces behind the judgeship of Ed Friend was an awareness that people with financial problems face feelings of personal unworth, of societal stigma and unwarranted stereotypes that can affect their future ability to contribute to our society. We who saw him in action are all proud of the way he bolstered courage in those who asked his help, and he had a kind word for just about everyone while he heard the endless litany of requests for justice.
Thus, the Friend Bankruptcy Courtroom to me doesn’t simply acknowledge the achievements of Ed Friend, or provide Court access for our poor, though that is monumental in its own right. It goes so much further.
The Friend Courtroom also does more than send a message about how we treat our poor. It signals the bringing together of two important groups: The first is a powerful Federal system more often associated with dealing swift justice to federal criminals, and deciding issues affecting large enterprises and the larger considerations of Federal law; and the second group is common people and small businesses with financial difficulties.
AND the Friend Bankruptcy Courtroom is an example not of what our Court family has done, but what it can do. Over a Million people depend on this odd and unlikely relationship between them and a powerful Federal entity. In the last few years we have seen a large shift in our financial landscape here in America, and we cannot afford to neglect the needs of a rapidly growing class of once entitled persons who have lost their jobs, are losing their homes, and for perhaps the first time ever must receive support services.
These are issues close to my heart. And I promised you the rest of Ed Friend’s story earlier on. Ed Friend came to Wheeling with a lot of enthusiasm and a couple of Brother computers with less memory than I now have in my phone. He somehow convinced the entire staff – and all of us - that the modernization efforts would be secondary to the good works that his Court family would somehow accomplish together. And they did. Whether you worked in the Clerk’s office or as a lawyer or just were someone who needed his help, Ed made you feel like your voice was heard, that your view was important, and that, even if he ruled against you, or corrected a mistake that you had made, you were an important person – and important to the judicial process. He was rewarded with a staff that was both loyal and constant, and with all the cases requiring equity that we lawyers could throw at him. And to him, we were all like one big, sometimes dysfunctional family. And any family with me in it is dysfunctional by definition.
With the increasing pauperization of the current generation and the continuing hardships which face us all in these years ahead, we are going to need to be a real family, a real team, to deal with the far-reaching issues of insolvency and people in financial distress. Our Federal judges, our attorneys, our administrative staffs, and ALL OF US: Let us answer that call together.
Ed Friend might have laughingly described his job as something he did between fishing expeditions, but I would describe it as “helping poor people.” Thanks Ed, for all the efforts of judgeship, for meeting one challenge after another, and mostly for reminding us that contributing to the welfare of others is not a burden, it is family fun.
The road to helping the poor is not one that began or ended with Ed Friend; we must continue to make sure that people with financial difficulties know there is somewhere they can go and something they can do about it without fear of being belittled.
We best measure the success of our civilization not by the prosperity of the well-to-do, or spoiled rich gadflies like me, but by the way we treat those who are most disadvantaged and most in need. Margaret Mead said: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”
The Friend Bankruptcy Courtroom will be a proud example of how a “family” effort can help change the world. Thank you for including me in its dedication.
