–From Melissa John, Northeastern University School of Law, Date of event: 2001

Having gone straight from college to law school, I didn’t even own a suit by the time first-year mock oral arguments came around. The weekend before I was scheduled, I hit Filene’s and bought a brand new “power suit.” I looked pretty sharp, felt pretty good, and come oral argument time, I was ready to blow them away.

As I put the suit on, I realized, in terror, that there in very obvious plain view was the shoplifting tag that the Filene’s clerk had left on my jacket! Not having any time to stop at a store to get it removed before the argument, I just went to school, hoping no one would notice. Wouldn’t you know, the first words out of my opponent’s mouth were: “Your Honor, opposing counsel is a common criminal and shoplifter, how can you believe anything this woman says?!”

Needless to say, that comment broke the ice, and I was able to make my argument with a lot less tension.

–From Rob Spring, Southern Illinois University School of Law, Date of event: Spring 2003

Spring semester of my first year: We had just finished writing an appellate brief and the first-year class was partnered up to compete in oral arguments. The week before we had a practice round before local lawyers and judges. I didn’t do too badly, my brief was pretty good and my partner was better than me.

My real argument was scheduled for the next week. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I was sure my argument was set for a week from Thursday. It wasn’t. On Wednesday the week before, as I was walking out to my car ready to drive home, I happened to see one of the guys I was arguing against running towards the law building in a suit and holding a brief in his hand. A sudden flash of panic came over me.

Nah, it couldn’t be today. But I needed to make sure and went back to check the posted schedule on the professor’s door. Much to my horror, not only was I up on Wednesday, but I only had 5 minutes to prepare, and I didn’t even have a copy of my brief! I hadn’t prepared at all. All I could think of was that I was going to repeat Lawyering Skills again. I thought of just ditching and running to my car and heading home.

But I decided to bite the bullet and go down to the courtroom, where I was greeted by our opponents and my partner, who had a look of total disbelief on her face. All three of them in suits and dressed for success. I hadn’t shaved, and needed a haircut, and was wearing a faded blue teeshirt, a pair of Quicksilver shorts, and sandals.

Luckily my partner didn’t kill me and had a copy of my brief. After explaining myself to the court for my unprofessional attire, we were allowed to proceed. I was supposed to go first, but had to force my partner to go first while I tried to figure out what I was going to say to fill up 15 minutes. Luck was on my side. My brief had been pretty good to begin with, so improvising with it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. When my partner finished, I gulped and jumped right in. I greeted the court and surprisingly enough did well. Afterwards, we all had a really big laugh.

I was really lucky and I know it. I was lucky I had a good partner, that she had a copy of my brief with her, that I saw Robbie (my opponent) in a suit, and finally that my professor didn’t kick my ass right out of the court room when I showed up in shorts and a teeshirt.

–From Anna Scruggs, University of Michigan Law School, Date of event: Spring 2005

Today, by email, during our Friday afternoon Con Law class, a dance-off was declared to take place after class between the right side of the room and the left side of the room. Then, just as our prof ended the class, someone pulled out a boom-box and things got crazy.

Two guys from our side of the room jumped up on the tables and busted out their best/worst moves, prompting the other side to dance back. Then I, along with another right-side mate busted out our best. The whole time, our prof was laughing so hard (she didn’t know this was coming) that it looked like she was going to fall off the podium. There were people in sunglasses, people chair-dancing, on tables, just for the heck of it.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, instead of the left side returning fire, our prof (a former U.S. Supreme Court clerk) jumped down from the podium and started breaking it down! So in the end, we declared our prof the winner. Like we didn’t already think she was the best.

I still have no idea why there was a dance-off, but that’s the funniest thing we’ve ever had happen in our section. Exams come and go, but what I’m going to remember best is getting served by our professor. Maybe there will be a re-match.

–From Scott Holmes, Cumberland School of Law, Date of event: Spring 2004

In my Property class with Prof. Snoe in the Spring of 2004 he asked a classmate, “Do you notice that when you talk all the typing stops?” (Most students in the class use laptops for note taking.)

“Yes, sir,” the student replied.

“Why do you think that is?” asked Prof. Snoe.

“I guess because I am wrong,” the student answered.

Snoe quickly responded, “You should have more faith in yourself, Mr. ___. I am sure you are wrong.”

Prof. Snoe is still the master of the Socratic Method.

–From Anne Fitzpatrick, University of Michigan Law School, Date of event: Fall 2003.

McClurg note: My parody of law school, The Law School Trip, contains a fictional student’s class notes regarding the rule against perpetuities, with bastardized references such as “Alien Nation of Property???” and “Life in Bean???” Anne Fitzpatrick proves once again that fact is stranger than fiction with this real-life excerpt from her Contracts notes regarding the parol evidence rule:

Found in my notes for J.J. White’s Contracts class during my first week of law school: reference to “the pro-elevens rule (?)”

–From Alyssa Bender, Cleveland-Marshall College of Law, Date of event: Fall 2003

It was towards the end of the semester and we were in Contracts class. It was nearing the end of class, when our teacher said, “Okay, now I’m going to tell you about the final exam.” There was complete silence in the room, when I — not intending to — sighed and said, “Oh God.”

The room erupted in laughter, and everyone was looking at me. I was totally unaware that my sigh was heard or why everyone was laughing. Finally, the person next to me told me everyone heard me. I went beet red. The professor just went on telling us about the exam. Later, on the way out, people came up to me and told me: “Wow, you said exactly what I was thinking/feeling.”; and “What a great way to break that tension. Good job!” I was thoroughly mortified, and then I had to hear from everyone in my section come exam time: “Remember: no sighing during the exam!”

–From Francine Traiger-Poor, Massachusetts School of Law, Date of event: March 2001

We were in first-year torts and discussing slander. The Professor stated that one of the elements of slander was that the defamatory statement must be heard by “one third person.” A student raised her hand and told the Professor she didn’t understand.

The Professor went on to explain how if one third person didn’t hear the statement it wasn’t considered published and didn’t fulfill the elements. The student, still obviously confused, asked: “But I still don’t understand which 1/3 of the person has to hear it!”

–From Emily Durham, Valparaiso University School of Law, Date of event: Fall 2003

About two weeks into the fall semester, my fellow 1Ls had not quite figured out that cell phones were a major felony in class. Somewhere about halfway into our Criminal Law class, the FOURTH cell phone rings. It took all he had for our professor to stop class and say with a straight face, “Just put them on vibrate and play with yourselves.”

–From Paula Cardoza, Indiana University School of Law, Date of event: 1979

I call this one “Realistic Expectations.” It was the end of the first semester of our first year, and we were petrified and clueless as we approached final exams. One professor told us that he would put one of his past exams and a sample “A” answer on reserve. Without missing a beat, a voice from the back of the room called out, “Could you put a sample ‘C’ answer on reserve, too?”

–From Debra Reece, University of Arkansas School of Law at Little Rock, Date of event: Fall 2000

Okay, here’s my funny law school moment. I’ll leave out the poor guy’s name. We were in property class, discussing wills, etc. One of my classmates was having a little trouble getting down the vernacular. He particularly had trouble with mortgagor vs. mortgagee. So he was always careful to check to see if he was on the right track when new words were introduced.

After spending some weeks with exercises that referred to a “grantor” and “grantee,” we had a problem with a testator in it. He was a bit confused, so he asked, “If the grantor leaves stuff to his grantees, does that mean the testator leaves stuff to his testes?”

We roared. It took him several seconds before he realized what he’d said, and our professor was rendered speechless. Several times in our first-year orientation, we heard, “Don’t worry about saying something stupid in class. No one will ever remember what you said.”

Not true. We will never let him live that one down. 🙂