Honorable FRANK K. RICHARDSON
(1914 – 1999)
Presiding Justice of the Court of Appeal, Third
Appellate District (1971 – 1974)
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the
State of California (1974 – 1983)
The Supreme Court of California convened in its
courtroom in the Library and Courts Building,
Sacramento, California on Wednesday, February
9, 2000, at 9:00 a.m.
Present: Chief Justice Ronald M. George, presiding,
and Associate Justices Mosk, Kennard, Baxter,
Werdegar, Chin, and Brown.
Officers present: Frederick K. Ohlrich, Clerk;
Brian Clearwater, Calendar Coordinator; and Harry
Kinney, Supervising Marshal.
CHIEF JUSTICE GEORGE:
Good morning. We meet today to honor Justice Frank
K. Richardson, who served with great distinction
as an associate justice of this court from December
1974 through December 1983. I would like to begin
by introducing the members of the court. Starting
at my far left, Justice Brown, Justice Werdegar,
and Justice Kennard. To my immediate right is
Justice Mosk, and to his right is Justice Baxter,
and then Justice Chin. On behalf of the court,
I wish to welcome Justice Richardson’s wife,
Betty, his children, and other family and friends.
Although I did not have the honor of serving on
the court with Justice Richardson, I nevertheless
had the opportunity to get to know him in a variety
of contexts—at court-related events, through
his opinions, and through his continued service
to the court as the chair of the blue-ribbon commission
appointed by my predecessor, Chief Justice Malcolm
Lucas, to study the practices and procedures of
the Supreme Court. These contacts served to reinforce
the impression I had gained from speaking with
those individuals who had been fortunate to work
more closely with him: Justice Richardson approached
the law with deep respect, thoughtfulness, and
care, and in his dealings with others he was unfailingly
courteous and kind.
During his tenure on the Supreme Court, Justice
Richardson wrote a number of very influential
majority opinions in cases such as Daly v.
General Motors Corp. (1978) 20 Cal.3d 725,
applying comparative fault principles to actions
brought in strict products liability, and Amador
Valley Joint Union High Sch. Dist. v. State Bd.
of Equalization (1978) 22 Cal.3d 208, upholding
Proposition 13, the initiative that changed California’s
system of real property taxation. Many of his
opinions continue to guide us today and, I am
confident, will do so far into the future.
Justice Richardson also wrote many dissenting
opinions, some of which served in later years
as models for majority decisions of both the United
States Supreme Court and the California Supreme
Court. In dissent, he wrote in terms that were
clear, direct, and persuasive, while at the same
time courteous and respectful of those with whom
he disagreed. His reverence for the law, and for
the institution that he served, was evident throughout
his tenure on the court.
Justice Richardson’s retirement did not
end his association with the Supreme Court. As
I mentioned, he served as chair of a commission
appointed to study and make recommendations concerning
the court’s internal procedures. These recommendations
addressed almost every aspect of the court’s
operations, and almost universally were implemented
by the court within a few years of the completion
of Justice Richardson’s report. The commission’s
recommendations continue to shape the underlying
structure of the court’s functions today.
With his wife, Betty, Justice Richardson was a
frequent attendee at court holiday functions,
and it was always a pleasure to see him there.
In September 1998, I attended the wonderful celebration
honoring his service to the community and to the
courts held here in Sacramento. It was a pleasure
to see Justice Richardson recognized during his
lifetime for his many contributions. After an
evening of glowing tributes, Justice Richardson
responded with a gesture that for me encapsulated
the warmth and directness of this fine gentleman—he
ended the evening with a thank-you followed by
a stirring tune on the harmonica.
Justice Richardson’s contributions to the
law will live on in his finely crafted opinions,
and in the model that he provided for all of us
of a truly professional and engaged jurist whose
commitment to family, church, and community gave
his life a well-rounded completeness to which
we can all aspire.
It is now my pleasure to introduce former Justice
William P. Clark, Jr., who served with Justice
Richardson not only on the court, but also in
the national administration in Washington.
JUSTICE CLARK: My colleagues,
Chief, I concur in everything you said about our
colleague, Frank Richardson. In fact, your good
opening allows me to reduce my own remarks, and
I’ll also concur in what our great colleague,
Justice Mosk, said upon Frank’s retirement.
He said Frank would be recognized in California
history as one of its great lawyers and judges,
and I could almost sit down on that citation because
I think that it covers it all, but I shall go
on, having been invited to be here today.
I had the great privilege of serving with Frank,
as you said, Chief, starting over 25 years ago.
We served together for eight years before I moved
on to Washington for other employment, and I’ll
touch upon that in just a moment, as it relates
to our honoree whom we are commemorating today.
But Frank Richardson, in the time I was with him,
wrote some 600 opinions, and I think it is an
interesting commentary that less than one-third
of those were majority opinions.
Frank firmly believed that law should come from
the people through the Legislature, and through
what he called the precious power, the precious
right of the initiative process. He was critical,
as we all know, of judicial law, judge-made law
at all levels of the court, and said so many times.
He was not one to go along to get along. Not to
suggest that he didn’t get along; there
was no more collegial person on this court than
Frank Richardson. But he did it through courage,
through suasion and persuasion, great scholarship,
and convincing others of his position. A lot of
courage; and at times, of course, he was tabbed,
as we all know, as politically incorrect. But
that did not slow Justice Richardson down in confirming
his true beliefs.
He, as I think all of us do, abhorred labels,
philosophic labels. Bernie Witkin once, when confronted
by some writer stating that Richardson and Clark
were the two conservatives on the court, and Bernie
said, “No. Wait a minute, let’s watch
those labels. The two of them are predictably
unpredictable, and that is good.” And then,
he reminded the person, take a look at the definition
of conservative. One well-known definition says,
“A conservative is one who defends the status
quo.” And, he said, that is not necessarily
Richardson or Clark. So much for labels. Frank
and I didn’t always go together. Graham
remembered Agins v. Tiburon—that
was six to one.
But Frank, as we pointed out, did retire from
our state Supreme Court and by that time, I was
at the Department of Interior, having been at
the State Department and the White House. The
President asked me to go and put some oil on some
water at Interior. My predecessor, Jim Watt, had
become the defendant on some 4,000 cases. So I
turned to Dick Morris and said, “Do you
think Frank Richardson might come back here and
become our Solicitor, with a staff of 220.”
So Frank thought he had retired, but we proved
that wrong. He had 4,000 cases. He cleaned them
up in a hurry. Today, when I am asked if I’ve
ever been a defendant in a civil case, I have
to answer truthfully, “Yes, 4,000 times.”
But thanks to Frank and Dick.
By the way, Chief, if you ever do a “hallway”
of former staff people, I hope that Dick and Graham
over there, and certainly Peter Belton, are front
and center. In that regard, Dick Morris was good
enough to come up here this morning, being under
pretty heavy medical treatment. He served as sparkplug
to three Chief Justices, and ended his judicial
career by coming down the hall for my last six
years. So I want to acknowledge Dick and Graham
Campbell a moment. Dick isn’t really off
the court quite yet; he is still at the Thursday
night court card game that, I understand, Dick
usually prevails in.
In any case, Frank Richardson came back to Interior
as our Solicitor, staff of 220 or 240. Within
a year, most of those 4,000 cases were history.
And, so for Frank, who wanted and deserved, as
did Betty, full retirement, like many of us do,
that was only a dream.
But I think at bottom, we’d all concur that
Frank was a true gentleman and a very gentle man,
who loved life, believed in the sanctity and dignity
of all human life, justice and dignity, and I
think he would concur in my final citation today,
in memoriam, another dissent written 800 years
ago, by another man named Francis. I think we
can see a lot of the Frank that we talked about
today in the following dissent. It is still the
minority position today, but in our Judeo-Christian
culture and society, we all have hope that this
Francis wrote, “Lord, make me an instrument
of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow
love; where there is injury, pardon; where there
is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light. And where there
is sadness, joy. Lord, grant that I may not so
much seek to be consoled as to console; to be
understood, as to understand; to be loved, as
to love. For it is in giving, that we receive.
It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned. And
it is in dying, that we are born to eternal life.”
Thank you very much.
CHIEF JUSTICE GEORGE:
Thank you very much, Justice Clark. It is now
my pleasure to introduce Mr. Graham Campbell,
a former principal staff attorney to Justice Richardson
and present member of the court’s staff.
MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL:
Thank you, Chief Justice George, Associate Justices,
friends and family of Justice Richardson. May
it please the court:
“The dog ate my homework.” But that
excuse for being unprepared won’t work for
me because I own no dog. So, my excuse today is
hopefully more believable: “The previous
speakers used all my good lines!” Nonetheless,
I’ll try and come up with something else,
but if you hear an echo in here, that is probably
Behind his back, they called him “The Deacon.”
Perhaps because he was always polite and soft-spoken,
always proper, collegial, even fatherly to everyone
he met. Or perhaps because, after all, he was
the son of a Methodist minister. Or perhaps, let’s
face it, perhaps because his dissenting opinions,
and there were over 200 of them, tended to be
a bit preachy at times. But whatever the reason,
I know the nickname was meant in an endearing
way and always said with the greatest respect
and affection for this remarkably talented man.
It is fitting that today’s memorial court
session is held in Sacramento, a city where Justice
Richardson had lived and worked so many years,
and which he loved so intensely. Loved to a point
that, during the nine years working with the Supreme
Court in San Francisco, he unceasingly lobbied
his colleagues to move the entire court, justices,
law clerks, secretaries (as they were called in
those less sensitive days), and everyone else,
to this fair city. I believe he may have convinced
Justice Clark of the wisdom of his plan, but unfortunately
(from his perspective at least), the other justices
remained firmly resistant. Perhaps they were skeptical,
as I was, of his repeated claims that the Sacramento
crime rate was the lowest in the civilized world,
and that the temperature here always hovered around
72 degrees, even in July and August.
I was Justice Richardson’s staff attorney
from the time he arrived in 1974 to the time he
retired, nine years and 394 opinions later. I
have been asked to share today a few memories
about those years, and I will do that. But we
all know that Frank Richardson’s life encompassed
far more than just being an esteemed appellate
justice. He was also a devoted family man, acclaimed
legal practitioner and law professor, generous
contributor to charitable causes, tireless civic
leader, energetic community volunteer, and respected
Solicitor of the Interior. Therefore, my remarks
necessarily will cover only a small part of this
great man’s varied accomplishments.
Looking back on the Supreme Court years, I’d
have to say (and I think he would agree), “It
was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
It was certainly the busiest of times. There were
weeks when it seemed as if we were writing a new
dissenting opinion every day. The figures show
that Justice Richardson authored 394 opinions
during his tenure with the Supreme Court, of which
212 were minority opinions, mainly dissents. In
hindsight, I now realize that for me it was the
most exciting and intellectually stimulating experience
I’ve ever had. Based on the many dissenting
opinions the judge wrote during that period, you
would think were in a war zone. But we survived
with very few battle scars, and hopefully our
dissents provided some food for thought for future
courts and Legislatures.
I also think it was quite an achievement for him,
in addition to writing all those dissents, to
have written 182 majority opinions, averaging
more than 20 majority opinions for each of his
nine years. These included such important and
renowned opinions as Agins v. Tiburon (1979) 24
Cal.3d 266, setting the ground rules for recovery
against public agencies for restrictive zoning
ordinances; Amador Valley Joint Union High
Sch. Dist. v. State Bd. of Equalization (1978)
22 Cal.3d 208, upholding Proposition 13, the property
tax initiative; Daly v. General Motors Corp.
(1978) 20 Cal.3d 725, applying comparative negligence
to strict liability cases; People v. Scott
(1978) 21 Cal.3d 284, outlining the outer limits
of searches and seizures of physical evidence
from criminal defendants; and Brosnahan v.
Eu (1982) 31 Cal.3d 1, upholding Proposition
8, the Victims’ Bill of Rights initiative.
Quite obviously, the man was not only just a hard
worker but he was a hard worker with the rare
ability to form a consensus among fellow justices
with vastly differing philosophies and predilections.
Justice Richardson’s diligence, easygoing
personality and keen common sense made the task
of working for him largely an effortless one.
More often than not, on cases he was interested
in, and that included most of them, he did all
the hard work himself. His staff just fed him
the raw material. Of course, all our drafts were
handed to him without footnotes, for he loathed
them and would not permit his staff to use them.
He often suspected the majority justices would
use footnotes in one case to provide authority
for their next case, and so on and so on, in an
endless string of bootstrapping opinions. To each
one of which we, of course, would, quote, “respectfully
I was a hot-blooded conservative in those days.
(I guess that makes me a cold-blooded one now!)
I recall one impassioned draft dissent I gave
Justice Richardson, one where I described the
majority’s proposed opinion by using a lot
of overheated adjectives like “irrational,”
“bewildering,” and “bizarre.”
He read over the draft carefully and later returned
it to my office, telling me, “Graham, maybe
you better immerse this one in a bucket of ice
water for a few hours!” I reluctantly removed
most of the adjectives. Of course, I sneaked half
of them back in the next draft.
“The Deacon” kept his courteous demeanor,
collegiality and sense of humor throughout these
days of seemingly unending dissents, even after
the departure of Justice Clark for Washington,
D.C., leaving us the sole “conservative”
voice on the court. Despite frequent disagreements
over cases and issues, he always treated his colleagues
on the court with the dignity and esteem owed
to their high office. I know they admired and
respected him for that. Even in our private discussions
in his chambers, Justice Richardson was always
discreet and reserved in his remarks about his
colleagues. He was especially careful to preserve
the sanctity of the events occurring in the conference
room where the justices met each Wednesday to
discuss and decide the fate of the leading cases
of the day.
Once, after a particularly grueling conference,
he emerged looking more worn and defeated than
usual. I asked him what had happened, hoping for
a full report. Instead, he simply shook his head
resignedly, leaving me as usual to guess at what
transpired behind those closed doors, and said,
“Well, all I can say is, it’s no Sunday
school in there.”
I can give you a good example of the effect Justice
Richardson had on those who knew and admired him.
One of his former staff attorneys, a practicing
lawyer who is in the courtroom today, recently
told me that in her law practice, when faced with
difficult legal or ethical choices, she often
would ask herself, “What would the Judge
have done? Would he have done it that way?”
And viewing the situation in that light, her choices
were made easier. I could only agree with her,
having gone through similar difficult situations
myself_mainly in poker games.
I have many fond memories of Justice Richardson,
but my favorite was also, sadly, my last. Perhaps
some of you remember it too. Scores of us had
gathered together in 1998 at a very special occasion
at the Sutter Club to honor Justice Richardson
with our blessings and goodwill. After hearing
countless speeches from family, friends, and acquaintances
drawn from each aspect of his busy and productive
life, he took over the microphone, and briefly
yet graciously thanked us all for coming. Then,
to the astonishment and delight of us all, he
extracted a harmonica from his pocket and treated
us to a lively version of “Turkey in the
Straw” at least I think that was it. He
brought down the house.
How can any of us have a warmer memory of this
CHIEF JUSTICE GEORGE:
Thank you very much, Graham. I now would like
to introduce Mr. Paul Richardson, son of Justice
Richardson, and a prominent lawyer here in Sacramento.
MR. PAUL RICHARDSON:
Mr. Chief Justice and Honorable Associate Justices
of the California Supreme Court: On behalf of
the Richardson family I would like to thank you
for taking the time this morning to honor my father,
Justice Frank Kellogg Richardson. Dad always considered
it a great privilege to serve on this court and
to help resolve the important issues that serve
to shape the law of this state.
Dad would want me to thank as well the entire
Supreme Court “family”: the clerks,
secretaries, bailiffs and attorney staff who were
always helpful and kind to him in the nine years
he was with you.
A special thank-you to Dad’s colleague and
dear friend, Justice William P. Clark, Jr., for
his presence and participation in today’s
session. And a thank-you as well to Graham Campbell,
Dad’s talented and loyal chief of staff.
There was an event in Dad’s life during
World War II that was perhaps a signal that his
career in the law would be anything but ordinary.
When my father arrived in London in 1944 he was
a second lieutenant in Army Intelligence. He was
being assigned to Bletchley Park, north of London,
which housed the top secret “ULTRA Project”,
which had successfully broken German encryption
codes. Dad learned that Prime Minister Winston
Churchill was returning to England and was scheduled
to address the British Parliament on the status
of the war effort in the Balkans.
On the day of Churchill’s speech, Dad, in
uniform, presented himself at one of the points
of entry with identification papers he’d
received from the U.S. Embassy. After being turned
away at numerous secuity points, Dad finally convinced
one guard to let him enter. Once inside he found
multiple layers of additional security, but quietly
and persistently, not taking “no”
for an answer, Dad talked his way through different
checkpoints until the last security guard finally
relented and then proceeded to escort Dad to a
lone empty chair next to a man in clerical garb
within 30 feet of the speaker’s rostrum.
As Dad listened excitedly to Churchill’s
oration that day, certainly someone in that hallowed
chamber must have wondered, “Who is that
American G.I. seated in the Distinguished Visitors
gallery next to the Archbishop of Canterbury?”
I don’t know what that event says about
the military security that day in London 56 years
ago, but it said a great deal about the quiet
persistence, sincerity, and ingenuity of my father,
personality traits that would serve him well later
on, in his chosen profession.
My father was the first in his family to chose
a career in the law. His father was a Methodist
minister from the midwest. His mother was the
daughter of a pioneer Placer County rancher and
Civil War veteran, who, as a Wisconsin farm boy,
had fought under General Grant in battles down
along the Mississippi and in the long siege at
From this beloved grandfather, Captain George
D. Kellogg, Dad learned of the sacrifice of war
and the meaning of the words “duty, honor,
and country.” It was also from him that
Dad learned to venerate the memory of Abraham
Lincoln, and it was this veneration of Lincoln’s
life and career that inspired Dad to follow Lincoln’s
path in the law.
My father was educated in public schools in Sacramento
and San Jose. He graduated from Germantown High
School in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Each summer
in high school Dad journeyed back across the country
by train to work in the packing houses and fruit
sheds in Newcastle, Placer County. Those long
train trips helped deepen Dad’s love of
the American West with its rugged terrain, its
varied climate and its colorful history. Dad was
an inveterate Westerner all his life, and a proud
Californian to his core.
After his freshman year at the University of Pennslyvania,
Dad transferred to Stanford University where he
graduated with distinction in political science
in 1935, was elected to the Phi Beta Kappa Society,
and then graduated from Stanford Law School in
Finding employment in the late Depression was
no easy matter. But after a diligent search. Dad
finally landed a position sharing office space
with retired Butte County Judge Hirman Gregory.
Many years later in a commencement address at
McGeorge School of Law, Dad described the start
of his career in this way: “If you will
forgive just a brief personal experience, it was
36 years ago that fresh out of law school I hung
out my shingle to practice law on the second floor
over a clothing store on a side street in Oroville.
I recall vividly the thrill that many of you may
experience shortly of studying the newly painted
sign bearing my name over the title ‘Attorney
at Law.’ I studied it from all angles, each
one seemed better than the one before. It quickly
became obvious, however, that I was one of the
very few people in Oroville who noticed that sign
and I hope that you will not have to wait as long
as I did to earn the fees to pay for it.”
It was a humble start, but a start nonetheless.
Clients were scarce, but Dad used his time constructively
by immersing himself in the civic life of Oroville.
He even entered the political arena by challenging
an incumbent Assemblyman after living in the district
all of nine months.
Dad’s greatest triumph in Oroville in those
years, however, was the successful courtship of
my mother, whom Dad spotted with her family while
working as an usher at the local Methodist church.
Their marriage lasted over 56_ years, and their
loyalty, love and care for one another was obvious,
no more so than in the last two years of my father’s
After his service in World War II, like many in
his generation, Dad returned to the home front
anxious to make up for lost time. He was 31 years
old and married with one son. Dad and Mom made
a pivotal decision at that time to relocate to
Sacramento, a place where Dad thought there might
be greater opportunities for advancement.
For my father, the years 1946 to 1971 could best
be described as nothing less than frenetic. His
law practice simply took off. After two years
as an associate in the law offices of Sumner Mering,
Dad went out on his own, preferring the life of
the sole practitioner and the opportunity, as
he put it, “to call his own shots.”
Dad developed a substantial civil practice. By
all accounts he was a skilled and tenacious litigator,
trying all manner of personal injury cases both
on the side of the plaintiff as well as the defense.
Juries found him intelligent, sincere, energetic
and fair. He was honest and straightfoward. In
the courtroom Dad knew what he was doing and he
could be very persuasive.
My father was a careful craftsman of contracts
and other documents. He always emphasized clarity
in expression, and his writing, then and later,
was usually devoid of much underbrush. As time
wore on, however, the bulk of Dad’s time
was devoted to probate work.
A prominent Sacramento attorney once told me that
Dad was one of the last great general practitioners.
He could do it it all, and he did it by himself.
Dad told me once that the greatest professional
satisfaction he had experienced in the law was
his years in private practice, for he had always
enjoyed the interaction with clients, and the
opportunity to help them and to advocate on their
As if the demands of his practice were not enough,
Dad in those years also taught night classes in
evidence and torts at McGeorge School of Law.
He was also deeply involved in local and state
bar matters, and in all manner of civic and community
activities in the greater Sacramento region.
Dad traveled extensively to Africa, Asia, Northern
Europe, Russia and the Antarctic. He always traveled
with a purpose, seeking out social, religious,
and political leaders in the host countries and
then reporting back to local community groups
his thoughts about the state of affairs in that
region of the world he had visited.
As active as he was in professional and civic
life, in his private life at home, Dad always
had the allegiance and affections of his four
sons, all of whom loved and respected him greatly.
I have memories of his reading us Huckleberry
Finn and Tom Sawyer. He taught us to love the
mountains, the outdoors, and our western heritage.
His curious and engaging mind encouraged us to
learn, explore and travel. In football games in
the front yard we also learned that our father
was very stubborn. It seemed that always, however
desperate his offensive position on the field,
when fourth down rolled around, on the question
of whether to punt, he invariably replied, definantly,
“We never punt” or “Never say
die.” We would tell him that he was “dreaming,”
and then brace ourselves for the Hail Mary pass
or the deep crossing pattern we knew was coming.
Dad taught us to much by his example. That great
athlete/philosopher Yogi Berra once said, “Sometimes
you can observe a lot just by watching.”
And what we saw when we watched our father was
a man who was kind and generous, by nature self-contained,
quiet in his person, humble in his manner, confident
in his powers, and firm in his convictions. He
was deeply religious, and he could also be very
In 1971 Governor Ronald Reagan appointed Dad Presiding
Justice of the Third District Court of Appeal.
He was 57 years old. Three years later Governor
Reagan elevated him to the California Supreme
Dad believed that one of the strengths he brought
to the bench and to the deliberations of this
court was the experience he’d gained from
30 years in private practice. That experience
provided him with a wealth of practical knowledge
in certain procedural and substantive areas of
the law, but it also gave him a balance and perspective
and judgment about what was appropriate, and the
practical effect certain decisions would have
on practitioners in the trenches.
One of the things Dad enjoyed the most when he
was on the court was the periodic opportunity
he had to address groups of lawyers – young
lawyers in particular: those just getting started.
I think it reminded him of his own start in Oroville
those many years ago. As a general rule my father
was not inclined to offer unsolicited advice.
He was always mindful of the unintended message
contained in the remarks of the 12-year old school
boy, who, when asked to write an essay on Socrates,
wrote: “Socrates was a Greek philosopher
who went around giving people advice. They poisoned
him.” To these young lawyers Dad would offer
up the following lessons that he believed had
been important for him to know in his own career
in the law, and those were:
That the practice of the law is a profession,
not a business or a calling – profession
with a noble and ancient heritage that has served
to advance civilization and promote the cause
of human freedom.
That the profession is governed by a rigid code
of ethical conduct the rules of which each lawyer
should read, study and internalize until they
become a part of a lawyer’s life.
That one’s client’s interests must
always supercede one’s own – ALWAYS!
And finally, that the most valuable asset a lawyer
can ever accumulate is one’s reputation
-- one’s good name. And on this subject
Dad liked the words of the great Chief Justice
Charles Evans Hughes, who wrote many years ago:
“The highest reward that can come to a lawyer
is the esteem of his professional brethren. That
esteem is won in unique conditions and proceeds
from an impartial judgment of professional rivals.
It cannot be purchased. It cannot be artifically
created. It cannot be gained by artifice or contrivance
to attract public attention. It is not measured
by pecuniary gains. It is an esteem which is born
in sharp conflicts and thrives despite conflicting
interests. It is an esteem commanded solely by
integrity of character and by brains and skill
in the honorable performance of professional duty.
. . . In a world of imperfect humans, the faults
of human clay are always manifest. The special
temptations and tests of lawyers are obvious enough.
But, considering trial and error, success and
defeat, the bar slowly makes its estimate, and
the memory of the careers which it approves are
at once its most precious heritage and an important
safeguard of the interests of society so largely
in the keeping of the profession of the law in
its manifold services.”
My father could not have known, when his journey
in the law began, how far, or along what path,
his career would take him. But Dad set his standards
high, and he kept them there, and he pursued his
career with energy, intelligence and integrity,
and in so doing, in this way, he brought honor
to himself, his family, his community, and his
Thank you very much.
CHIEF JUSTICE GEORGE:
Thank you very much, Mr. Richardson.
I want to thank again all those who have contributed
their special and memorable remarks to this morning’s
In accordance with our custom, it is ordered that
the proceedings at this memorial session be spread
in full upon the minutes of the Supreme Court
and published in the Official Reports of the opinions
of this court, and that a copy of these proceedings
be sent to Justice Richardson’s family.
(Derived from Supreme Court minutes and 22