Future Law Review Editor Gets Early Start

by

–From Casey Holland, University of Kentucky College of Law, Date of event: Fall 2003

I’m a current 1L at the University of Kentucky College of Law, and have an amusing story from my first semester. Our Torts professor, the learned Mary Davis, frequently brought up provisions of the proposed Restatement (Third) of Torts on the assumption that by the time we graduate it will have supplanted the current Restatement.

However, during class one wintry day she asked us all what the Restatement (Third) has to say about proximate cause. There was dead silence in the room, as she had never even hinted that we should read it. She began to get irritated, and asked us again if anyone could answer her question.

Sweat breaking out on our brows, even the gunners started slinking lower in their seats hoping they wouldn’t be called to task. Finally, when tension had reached its maximum, a voice rang up from the back of the class and exactly quoted the relevant portion of the Restatement.

We all turned around to see which helpful soul had saved us all from certain doom, only to find a grade school age girl with a coloring book in front of her. Our heads snapped back around and Professor Davis, now smiling, introduced us to her daughter. It seems her classes had been cancelled due to weather and the professor decided to have a little fun with us.

Courage Under Fire

by

–From Name withheld on request, University of Washington School of Law, Date of event: circa 1991

First semester of law school was pretty scary. We had a few profs who taught in the “you’ll be lawyers soon, so I’ll pick on you in front of everybody and force you to advocate for yourself” mentality, and it was having the desired effect of scaring the hell out of many in my class. My Torts professor was actually the dean of our school. Dorsey Ellis is his name, although he has retired as dean. His style was as follows: if he called on you, you had to stand to answer him; if you didn’t stand, he would often say “I can’t hear you.”

Once he decided which student would answer, the student would “own” the case, meaning the student would orally brief the case for everybody and answer all questions about it. The dean would call on you throughout the semester if anything related to “your case” came up in discussion. The dean was a tough, brusque guy on the outside to some, but you could tell that he was genuinely trying to train us. Truth is, he was a nice guy with an old-school style and by the end of the semester we all liked him very much. But during that first month everybody was pretty terrified of him.

The dean unknowingly aided me in this story. Three weeks into the semester, at the end of a class, I actually raised my hand and commented that something one of my classmates said related well to our next case, which was one of those classic old cases dealing with assault with a gun and whether the assailant had intent. I enjoyed the case and made the mistake of referring to it with five minutes left in class. The dean promptly said he was pleased I had volunteered to “own” the case next class, much to everyone’s amusement except mine.

The night before the next class, my section had a potluck dinner where everyone voiced their nervousness regarding school and the professors, and commented how it would be nice to turn the tables on the profs. And then the awful idea came to me to do just that—the dean had given me the opportunity by letting me know that I was “up” next class.

So I called three of my best friends in the class and told them I was planning something a little unusual for the next class. I told them I would be asking them some questions and told them what to say in response. Then I went to Walgreen’s and bought a green plastic ping-pong gun for $2.95 and plotted my insane plan.

On cue the next day, Dean Ellis began to drill me. I was scared as hell and my heart was beating hard knowing the lunacy I had planned. I sat in the back row of the large classroom. He called on me for some answer and I said something like “Dean Ellis, I’m glad you asked that question,” and started walking down the stairs toward the front.

Unbeknownst to me, on my way down the stairs the dean mumbled loudly enough for the people in the front rows to hear, “This better be good.” It was deadly silent as I ambled down front. I became more scared as it was now apparent that I had now numbed everyone in my class because they probably envisioned my murder in front of them at the hands of the dean. Thank God I hadn’t heard the dean’s comment.

But I persevered and briefed the case about one person bringing out his gun on another. At that juncture I whipped out my tacky ping-pong gun. Not looking at me, the dean said “Don’t you shoot that!” in that voice fathers use on sons when the next screw-up means big trouble. I never shot the ping-pong gun, but did manage to have some fun after that.

One of my best friends sat in the second row. I called on him, as we had scripted the night before, and asked a question. When he didn’t stand up, I said “I can’t hear you.” He promptly stood up as if the dean had said it. He was terrified that I had brought him in on my plan and looked like he had just peed in his pants.

Luckily he retained the presence of mind to answer the next question (again, as scripted) and my other two friends answered the questions I posed them. This continued for 15 minutes, during which the dean mellowed as I led the class discussion without him. Then I bounded back up the classroom stairs and it was over, although my heart kept racing until the end of the class.

I had tried my best to alleviate the terror that is “first year.” Although not everyone appreciated my “skit” at the time, by the third year it was a story that everyone liked to tell and retell. As for the dean, we bonded from that class and I always felt close to him after that. Although he seemed perturbed at the time, apparently he liked the whole thing and at graduation told me so.

I still own the ping-pong gun.

Too Early for Intimate Family Law Discussion

by

–From Ross C. Hart, Law school: University of Virginia School of Law, Date of event: 1974

In 1974, I was a first year student at the University of Virginia School of Law. I was taking Family Law (now more politically correctly called “Domestic Relations”) with Prof. Walter Wadlington. Class was the first class of the day at 9:00 am.

One Monday morning, at about 9:05, we were discussing the requirements for a valid marriage. The professor said “Consummation of a marriage is actually not part of the requirements for a valid marriage. Frankly, and I hate to say this so early on a Monday morning, ‘consummation of marriage’ is not a legal term, it is a, well, lay term ….”

Full-Service Property Prof

by

–From Edward M. ‘Ted’ McClure, Campbell University School of Law, Date of event: Spring 1980

It was half-way through our second semester, and Professor (later Dean) Pat Hetrick was running us through some truly obtuse Property II issue. He is a wonderfully entertaining teacher, but it was after lunch and after mid-terms and we were all brain-dead.

He fires off a question and looks for a volunteer to answer. Nothing. Silence. A hundred blank expressions. He asks again, with no better result. After a moment, he dashes out from behind the podium, sits in an empty seat in the first row, and starts jumping up and down yelling “I know, teacher! I know, Professor Hetrick!”. After about 20 seconds of this, he dashes back to the podium, looks over at the (now empty) seat, and says, “I think I’ll call on that smart kid in the first row.” Then he dashes back to the seat, sits down, stands up, and starts “reciting” the answer, while we laugh madly.

White, Bald Prof Raps to Unwilling Audience

by

–From James Un, University of Kansas School of Law, Date of event: 2006

I attend the University of Kansas School of Law. Second-year Constitutional Law was taught by a professor known for asking endless series of hypothetical questions about cases. One day, he was doing lectures on obscenity. He apparently enjoyed doing these lectures because it gave him an opportunity to say certain four-letter words.

The unfortunate victim of his “rolling boulder” method of questioning on this particular day was a person who everyone except the professor knew was devoutly religious.

On a screen, the prof had projected a link to 2LiveCrew lyrics, as well as a list of songs from one of their albums.

So he asked the deeply religious student, “So what do you think about this song title? Is this obscenity given the test in Miller?” And the student replied, “Well, that depends. In my opinion, yes.”

The professor continued, “I’m going to read some lyrics from the song.” And he began to spout out, much to the student’s chagrin and embarrassment, lyrics laced with sexual references and more four-letter words. That was amusing in of itself, seeing a balding white guy in a black turtleneck reciting 2LiveCrew lyrics.

Let’s just say that the student was not enjoying this line of questioning, especially when it continued in this vein for about ten minutes.

The class was cracking up and laughing and the professor was not exactly sure why. Why was it so funny? I guess you could say that it was a little bit of everything. A white professor rapping offensive lyrics to a prim and proper student who was wishing it was all over.

Vegans Won’t Like this Prima Facie Case

by

–From Troy Pickard, University of San Diego School of Law, Date of event: Fall 2004

In our first semester Criminal Law course, we were discussing Regina v. Dudley, the infamous case where three men adrift on a lifeboat cannibalized a 17-year-old cabin boy. My classmates and I still talk about a very simple, yet incredibly profound statement made by our Criminal Law professor, Kevin Cole, that forever cleared up the meaning for us of the term “prima facie”:

“Prima facie,” Professor Cole said, “it’s bad to eat a person while they’re still alive.”

With such pithy insight, it’s no wonder Professor Cole is now USD’s law school dean.

Professor to Students: Phone Lines Are Open

by

–From Steve Cumbie, Southern Methodist University School of Law, Date of event: Fall 2003

As those who are familiar with his casebook on bankruptcy law already know, Professor David Epstein is always good for a few laughs. Two years ago in my first-year Property class, we were discussing the dreaded Rule Against Perpetuities.

Professor Epstein asked for a volunteer to determine whether a particular conveyance was valid. “Anyone? Anyone?” he asked a room full of people desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

After several seconds of very awkward silence in which it became quite obvious that no one had a clue, someone’s cell phone rang. Without missing a beat, Professor Epstein quipped, “Didn’t realize this was a call-in show. Maybe they know the answer. Put it on speaker.”

Sex and Sexism Back in the Day

by

–From Jody R. Nathan, University of Oklahoma College of Law, Date of event: 1982.

I started law school at the University of Oklahoma in 1982. One of the crusty old law professors was George Frazier; nicknamed “the Tiger.” He taught civil procedure (and was instrumental in getting Oklahoma’s new pleading code drafted along the lines of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure) and Remedies. He was a great guy with a deep gravelly voice. In Remedies one day, the subject of loss of consortium came up. One of my classmates asked him “How do you figure loss of consortium damages? Is it the cost of comparable services?” He laughed and said, “Well, (pause) yes, (pause) I guess that’s one way you could figure it.” (McClurg note: Traditionally, a primary component of loss of consortium damages was loss of a spouse’s sexual “services.”)

In the first week of Civil Procedure, demurrers were being discussed. I asked a question and mispronounced demurrer as demure. He responded, “Well, (pause) Ms. Nathan (pause) demure is, (pause) well, what young ladies OUGHT to be.” Needless to say, I never mispronounced the word again.

My Torts professor, Peter Kutner, also had a sly sense of humor. One day, he was explaining the idea that the law does not provide remedies for slights — and gave us a Latin phrase de minimus non curat lex. To help us remember it, he also provided a limerick:

There once was a man named Rex

Who had a very small sex

He kept his composure

During indecent exposure

De minimus non curat lex.

I have remembered both the term and the limerick ever since.

We Interrupt this Civil Procedure Class to Bring You . . .

by

–From Andy Martinez, University of Wisconsin Law School, Date of event: Fall 2003

During a lecture in my first year Civil Procedure class at the University of Wisconsin, my professor, who had a reputation for being slightly wacky, received a call on her cell phone. She stopped mid-sentence, looked through her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and answered the call and then hung up. She apologized, saying she didn’t know how to turn the phone from ring to vibrate.

Later in the semester, she was giving another lecture, and the cell phone goes off again. She took it out, and looked at it. She said she had to take the call, and everyone in the lecture hall looked at each other, thinking “Is she serious?” So the professor goes out of the room and starts talking.

What she apparently forgot, or didn’t care about, is that she was wearing a wireless microphone so that she could be heard in the lecture hall. So everyone in the class is listening in on her side of the conversation. It turns out that the phone call that was so important she had to take it during class wasn’t about some important case or anything like that, but about her dog’s visit to a vet! She came back, and the class sat, stunned.

A Contracts Two-Fer

by

–From Name withheld upon request, Michigan State University College of Law, Date of events: Fall 2002

Here are two stories about our Contracts professor. The first situation was in Fall 2002, and the professor was talking about offer and acceptance. He used the example of college house painters who knock on your door and ask if they can paint your house. The professor gave several examples of what your response would be if it were your house and what that response constitutes.

For example, if the house painters say they’ll paint your house for $200, and you say, “OK, paint the house,” that constitutes an offer and acceptance. If the house painters say they’ll paint your house for $200, and you say “How about $150?”, that constitutes a offer and counteroffer.

He was using this quiz method on a girl in my class and when he got to the third example, the professor said, “The house painters come to your house and say they’ll paint it for $200. You say ‘Screw you!’ What does this constitute?” The girl said, “counteroffer”, and the class broke into laughter. The professor just stopped until the laughing subsided and while he laughed a little himself. He said that he wasn’t going to call on her for the rest of the semester. I’m not sure he followed through with that offer, though.

The second situation was in the same class with the same professor. Throughout the year, the professor liked to use a “panel” where three or so students would be called on for the entire class. There were a few students who he later put onto “permanent panel” if they weren’t prepared.

On this day, he was explaining how the system would work, and a kid walked in late to our lecture hall. The way the hall is designed is there are two doors that separate the middle of the room with a walkway –it’s stadium seating. The kid walked in late through one of the doors, and the professor said, “Well, it looks like you’ll be on the panel today.” The kid just shook his head and walked right through the other door.

The class started applauding, and the professor asked what his name was. No one told him. The professor just shook his head and continued with class.