The Death of Judge Arnold Shulman: End of an Era?

by Rick Alembik

Judge Arnold Shulman’s passing on Aug. 4 at the age of 96 may have marked the end of an era for DeKalb County’s legal community . . . and for this writer.

I was first introduced to Judge Shulman in 1991 as a UGA law pup who had started a litigation practice down the street from the DeKalb Courthouse. At the time Judge Shulman was a senior judge who could usually be found mentally warming up in the ninth-floor senior judges’ bullpen in anticipation of being called on to relieve the other judges from some of their workload: bond hearings, bench trials, emergency TROs, protective orders, and the like.It was easy to just drop in on the bullpen because there were no additional security measures once you got past the courthouse entrance. And I always felt welcomed up there. Judge Shulman happened to have been law partners with an uncle of mine way back when. So I suspected at the time that this is what made someone of his stature so accessible and approachable — and ultimately one of my many informal mentors.

However, when I later got to really know Judge Shulman, I realized that the family connection had little to do with the ease with which I made his acquaintance or learned from him. I discovered that he and the example he set had positively and permanently influenced many others — in his capacity as a mentor to judges and lawyers, counsel to politicians, lawyer to clients, and especially as a father, grandfather, and great grandfather.

A 1936 UGA law graduate, Judge Shulman went into private practice with his law school classmate Wiley Davis. The two would later go on to author the classic tome Georgia Practice and Procedure, which should be on every Georgia lawyer’s bookshelf.

After Pearl Harbor, Judge Shulman enlisted in the Army as a private and rose to the rank of sergeant. Just before his unit was shipped to the Pacific theater, military brass transferred him to officer candidate school. He spent the war performing Army recruiting and personnel functions, eventually achieving the rank of captain.

In 1943, he met and soon married Mary Frances Johnson, with whom he raised three children, Diane, Warren, and Amy. (His marriage to Mary Frances would last 68 years, until her death in 2009.) Two of his children followed him into the law. Warren became his law partner for many years, and Amy now works as the head of the central staff of attorneys for the Supreme Court of Georgia. The common theme I heard from his children was the way in which Judge Shulman left his work at the office at the end of the day and never let it get in the way of his family life.

After the war, Judge Shulman returned to the private practice of law. For the next 30 years, he earned the respect of the Atlanta legal community. His courtroom skills and mastery of civil procedure became almost legendary. He was known to adopt the “KISS” method in the courtroom — an approach to litigation that allowed him to go to court armed only with a legal pad and the sports section of the newspaper. (Kids, don’t try this at home.) He wasted no time cutting to the chase in any matter he tried, applying his analytical skills and prodigious memory to identify the most salient issues, to dissect witnesses quickly and thus to most effectively represent his clients.

Judge Shulman was also well connected politically. Among his personal friends he counted Governor Carl Sanders and Senator Herman Talmadge (with whom he debated the equality of the races and desegregation, and whom, it is said, he was able to influence positively on such issues). He was often consulted on proposed legislation and became somewhat of a behind-the-scenes political operative.

Judge Shulman was known for his loyalty not only to his friends and family, but also to his sports teams and alma mater. He was a huge Georgia Bulldogs fan, attending many football games between the hedges, and later listening to them on the radio. The same went for the Atlanta Braves, a team and a sport that he followed very closely. (He was apparently a fine baseball player and boxer in his youth.)

At his memorial service, Henry R. Bauer Jr., another one of Judge Shulman’s law partners, eulogized him thusly:

What I think all of us learned from Arnold is what it means to practice law as a profession, not a business; to practice with integrity; to treat your clients – and your opponents and their clients –with grace and dignity; to hold things important other than money; to at all times be generous with your knowledge, time and advice; always conduct yourself as a gentleman; be yourself; have a sense of humor; laugh a lot; never take yourself too seriously.

In 1977, Judge Shulman was appointed to the Georgia Court of Appeals by Governor Busbee. He retired from the Court of Appeals, as its first Jewish chief judge, in 1984, at the age of 70. For the next 15 or so years, Judge Shulman divided his time between his family and both the DeKalb County and Court of Appeals senior benches. This is when I first made his acquaintance as an adult. For about the next 10 years, I tried to make it a habit to check in on Judge Shulman in the senior judges’ chambers. This was not just to see how he was doing, but also, selfishly, to absorb his wit and wisdom. I won’t say that Judge Shulman molded me, Karate-Kid style, into a ferocious UGA Law Dawg. But our informal meetings, his incisive legal acumen, quiet wisdom, and sense of humor did leave a very positive impression on me that I hope never to lose.

Unquestionably, Judge Shulman’s death marks the end of an era. It wasn’t until attending his memorial service that I really learned about the scores of lawyers, judges, and other people he had similarly influenced. The memorial service led to a personal epiphany of sorts. I realized that the circumstances that forged the “Greatest Generation” – of which Judge Shulman was a shining example – may well never reoccur. But sadly, I also realized that in this era in which courthouses cloister judges behind locked hallways and security phones, Judge Shulman’s successors won’t be as approachable or available to act as mentors to young lawyers and judges nervously seeking the senior judges’ bullpen.

But we don’t have to let Judge Shulman’s era end with a whimper. The most fitting and lasting tribute to his memory might be a bar association program or event designed to bypass the security phones and to connect generations of lawyers and judges through informal mentoring relationships.