HONORING PROFESSOR WILLIAM GORDON McLAIN III
Mr. Speaker, on September 6, 2013, Professor William Gordon McLain III lost his 19-month long battle with lung cancer. On that day, the world lost a champion for the powerless and a brilliant legal mind. Will, as he was known and…
Mr. Speaker, on September 6, 2013, Professor William Gordon McLain III lost his 19-month long battle with lung cancer. On that day, the world lost a champion for the powerless and a brilliant legal mind. Will, as he was known and distinguished from his first born son, William G. McLain, IV, was not unaccustomed to battles. He confronted his cancer diagnosis with the same ferocity, toughness, and wry humor that he exhibited in every fight, especially his lifelong battle to make the ideals of equality and justice under the law a reality for all.
Born and raised in McComb, Mississippi, in 1945, Will, an only child, lost his father who was also a lawyer, at an early age. But the die had been cast--the quest for justice was in his blood. Fueled by memories of his father and his lovingly feisty mother, Doris ``Cleo'' McLain, Will pursued his undergraduate education at Tulane University in his beloved second home, New Orleans, Louisiana. Although he entered the legal profession later than most, graduating from the Antioch School of Law in 1983 at the age of 38, Will lost little time throwing himself behind causes he believed in, no matter how unpopular. Indeed, some would say that the less popular an issue of Constitutional justice, government excess or fundamental fairness became, the more Will was compelled to stand up for it or fight against it. Will surprised many of his liberal friends with his dogged defense of an individual's right to bear arms under the Second Amendment--but that was him, consistent, principled, smart, and especially happy when he could shock folks a little. Clarence Darrow liked to call himself the ``Attorney for the Damned''--well, in our lifetimes that was Will McLain.
I first met Will in the late 1980s when he joined the legal team assembled by my chief counsel, University of Miami Professor Terry Anderson, to represent me in an ongoing impeachment proceeding before the U.S. House of Representatives, a body in which I now serve. Will quickly became an indispensable member of my defense. He continued working behind the scenes providing invaluable strategic advice and exhaustive legal research in the federal case that ultimately declared that my impeachment and Senate trial were in violation of due process. I am told that he found that legal victory and my subsequent election to Congress gleefully gratifying. I will be forever grateful for his contribution.
Many others are indebted to Will for his passion to serve the disadvantaged and powerless in society. He worked tirelessly--often without compensation or recognition--on behalf of death row inmates and other criminal defendants who faced trumped up charges or other government abuses. He deplored racism and homophobia and provided legal counsel to those who were victimized by discrimination. Will was also a staunch advocate for the freedom of the press. Together with his lifelong friend and colleague, Professor Tom Mack, Will successfully represented a journalist against the threat of compelled disclosure of a source. Most recently, he also associated with his former law student, and then soon to be son-in-law, Stephen Mercer, head of the Maryland Public Defender's forensics unit, to devise challenges to state and federal practices that allowed the warrantless collection of DNA of persons who are not convicted of a crime.
Will was very disappointed by the ruling of the U.S. Supreme Court in June 2013 that authorized those practices. But he was also encouraged that the 5-4 decision united arch-conservative and liberal Justices in dissent. In his view, that combination holds promise that someday fourth amendment protection will be extended to arrestees and end this practice.
His passion for justice never let up--even in his final months when many would have been understandably preoccupied with their own condition, he would rail about the NSA and the great civil liberties challenges and disappointments of our time.
The litany of cases and clients Will handled over the years, while impressive, are eclipsed by the legion of students he educated and inspired. Following Hurricane Katrina, Will co-created and co-taught Katrina and Beyond: Disaster Law at the University of the District of Columbia's law school. The course included field trips to New Orleans where students were exposed first hand to the devastation and human suffering left in Katrina's wake. Will's legal expertise was multidimensional and superior to most of his peers. But his ability to impart knowledge in digestible and accessible terms to his students and to motivate them to, not only learn but also, yearn was simply unmatched. He was the consummate professor, teaching wherever he found an audience. Will made learning fun, but he was not always gentle. He had an uncanny mix of southern charm, always greeting women with a peck on the wrist, and an unapologetic irreverence, keeping everyone on their toes (and sometimes knocked a bit further back than that!) with his incorrigible, irascible, withering wit. He was passionate, and as many who've worked in these halls know, that comes hand-in-hand with being brutally direct and unwilling to suffer fools gladly. In fact, Will gladly made fools suffer! He was also old fashioned, drafting his briefs by hand on yellow legal pads. He often ``held court'' at the Tune Inn, a Capitol Hill institution, where swarms of law students, colleagues, and more than a few members of our own Institution would parade in and out hungry for the opportunity to gain his insights on law, life, and the future.
Will's future was cut short when in the winter of 2011 he received the agonizing diagnosis that he had terminal cancer. Like he did with all of his legal battles, Will did not take the diagnosis lightly. As he fought through chemo treatments that weakened his body, he altered his routine very little. He continued to teach the students he loved. He read the Washington Post and the New York Times daily. He played Gin Rummy at the Tune Inn sipping vodka and watched the Saints and Redskins on Sundays with his young grandson, Sam, with whom he enjoyed a special relationship. As his body grew weary, Will hosted his own farewell party held in the backyard of what would become his final home in Rockville, Maryland. Over one hundred people attended, including Will's big, complicated, extended family--a world of people from all walks of life brought together by their shared love and admiration of Will. That was the thing about Will--he mattered to the people whose lives he touched, whether they loved him, grudgingly respected him, or found him simply infuriating (but irresistibly so).
Will was elated when his former student, Stephen Mercer proposed marriage to Will's oldest son, William. He never thought he would see the day when same-sex marriage would be a legal reality for his first born. He simply willed himself to find the strength to see that day. And he did. Will was alert, lucid and enthusiastic at the wedding, just weeks ago. Although he had become very frail, he independently raised a glass to toast their union. In his final days, Will spoke sporadically, clutched his New York Times, gripped the hands of his family and friends, and always provided a kiss followed by the words, ``I love you.'' Will passed away five days after the wedding he never thought possible. He was surrounded by the three most important people in his life--his now son-in-law, Stephen, his oldest son, William, and his youngest son, Pierce.
Will McLain lived his life with vigor, commitment and generosity of mind, heart and spirit. On September 6, 2013, the world lost an unsung legal giant. I lost a treasured friend. And his family and close personal friends lost the center of their universe.
I am honored to rise today to salute his memory and leave this permanent record in the annals of our nation of the great man who was Will McLain.