Something New Under the Sun

After almost 40 years, you would think I know everything about Handsome Hubby, but recently I learned otherwise. The occasion for my surprise, you learn something new,  late-life revelations, was HH’s 50th law school reunion.

I confess. When my sweet husband asked me to join him for a trip down his personal Memory Lane, aka the Golden Jubilee reunion, I wasn’t thrilled. The thought of tagging along sounded like a snoozefest. A lot of uh-huhing and nodding politely, while he and his buddies yuck-ed it up about the “good old days.”

But, of course, I’m a dutiful wife. So, I packed my bag, a perky smile, and off we went.

Something New

HH was a member of the founding class of Antioch School of Law in 1972. I had vaguely known the school was a pioneer in its clinical law approach— meaning students worked with clients under the supervision of professors from the start (versus sitting in big lecture halls), but I had never really focused on how bold that was. In the decades since, that model has been emulated by virtually every law school in the US.

Nor had I appreciated the school’s anti-poverty, public interest approach in working with its “clients,” all of whom were low-income. What that meant is that Antioch Law School was effectively serving as a pro bono law firm, helping the poor take on all sorts of discrimination and housing rights violations. They were giving voice to the powerless.

Clearly, Antioch was not the law school students went to if they were interested in becoming corporate fat cats. No, this was the place they attended if they wanted to fight “the man” and help the little guy and gal.

Also New

One of Antioch’s unique requirements was that students had to live with the low-income people they served for the first eight weeks of the first term, and in Washington, D.C., in the early 1970s, that meant living in some really dangerous, bleak neighborhoods.

HH and three classmates crowded in with a woman and her eight children and one grandchild. The four students slept on a closed-in porch.

Life wasn’t easy for HH in those days. In addition to his full-time studies, he worked long hours, too. Up at 3 a.m., six days a week, he rode his bike through those same inner-city neighborhoods to the U.S. Capitol to deliver mail, first in the U.S. House of Representatives and then, on the Senate side.

A long-haired HH, circa 1973

After work, he jumped back on his bike and headed over to an old church where Antioch’s classes were held during its first year. He wasn’t a coffee drinker. So, how he stayed awake all day and into the night to study is a wonder.

A New Mix of Students

In HH’s class of 145 students, 30 percent were women, and 33 percent were people of color. Several had been accepted by Harvard, Yale, and Columbia law schools. A couple were Olympic champions. Another was Jim Thorpe’s daughter. They came to Antioch because they wanted to serve the public interest.

And remarkably, half a century later, HH’s still long-haired (albeit gray, thinned, and balding) classmates were still fighting the public interest fight. Some were immigration lawyers, some were anti-poverty lawyers, some were in politics, some were union activists, some were environmentalists.

All retained their passion and clarity of purpose. I don’t think I have ever sat in a room with so many admirable people at one time. I was truly filled with awe, which in these heartbreaking times gave me much-needed hope and inspiration.

My Hero Husband

And, of course, among them sat my personal hero, Handsome Hubby, who, as many of you know, is an internationally recognized leader in energy efficiency and renewable energy policy.

Like I said, I learned a lot about HH that weekend. Most amazingly, I learned that my husband hadn’t attended his third year of law school!

Family obligations required his presence back in Nevada. To honor those obligations, he carried a compressed course load during the second school year and the summer before returning to Nevada. Once home, he worked full-time AND completed his law school thesis requirement long-distance, consulting with professors via telephone. (As an aside, this thesis requirement was another pioneering element of Antioch’s core curriculum, which many law schools across the country now emulate.)

Maybe that last point only reinforced what I already knew — that HH will do everything within his power to help his family and make the world a better place simultaneously … and he’ll do it all without the benefit of caffeine. What a guy!

Here’s to All the Heroes

Here’s to Antioch Law School, now the District of Columbia School of Law, and my guy, Jon Wellinghoff. And here’s to all the heroes walking among us, fighting the good fight, working to help the little guy, working to make the world a more equitable place. We need them more than ever!

###

Thank you for reading, and if you got a laugh or a moment of inspiration from this story, please share it with a friend.

And if you’re not already a subscriber, you can do so and join the official ranks of middle-aged muddlers here.