Goodbye Mike, Hello Judge: My Journey for Justice by Myron H. Bright (review)

“I’ll follow the law when I must do so and when the law is clear. I’ll follow the law regardless of my personal views of the results, even if it is an unjust one. But where the law is not quite clear, or in the process of change, I’ll look to the precedents and legal reasons that can support a result which I think is just, even if somewhat contrary to existing law. . . . My personal creed is: ‘Let justice be done’” (126).

This candid insight into judicial decision-making is courtesy of federal judge Honorable Myron H. Bright, United States Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit. With more than 45 years on the bench and still hearing cases in his 90s, Judge Bright is accustomed to speaking his mind, and his autobiography is brimming with anecdotes both personal and professional.

He recounts his childhood in Minnesota’s Iron Range and credits the diversity of his hometown mining community with inspiring his commitment to equality and his empathy for outsiders and underdogs. In surprising and sparkling detail, he tells tales of North Dakota and national politics in the 1950s and 1960s, including his role in John F. Kennedy’s attendance at a birthday party for Quentin Burdick in Fargo. Judge Bright also imparts what he considers to be his most significant decisions as a judge, including cases impacting employment discrimination, environmental protection, and federal sentencing guidelines.

The thread that runs throughout Judge Bright’s accomplished and storied life is his strong connection to people. Most heartfelt is his relationship with his beloved Fritzie, his late wife, who directed her husband to seek a judgeship with the words, “Listen, Myron, I want a live husband, not a dead trial lawyer.”

Most telling is his affinity for two people convicted of crimes, James Dean Walker and Dana Deegan. James Dean Walker’s is a triumphant story—the successful overturning of an unjust conviction, a victory made sweeter by Walker’s surprise appearance at a party for Judge Bright more than 25 years later, the first time they met in person. Dana Deegan’s story is a plea for reform; despite Judge Bright’s strong disagreement (expressed in a 65-page dissent) with her 10-year sentence for the crime of neonaticide, Deegan remains in federal prison. But for the fact that Deegan is American Indian and her crime occurred on a reservation (thus subjecting her to federal jurisdiction), Judge Bright believes her crime likely would have garnered a sentence of less than three years in state court. Deegan’s case represents one of the rare instances in which Judge Bright has not been able to wield his considerable powers of influence and persuasion successfully, and his discomfort with the ongoing injustice in Deegan’s case is unmistakable.

In the end, Judge Bright’s autobiography provides much more than a glimpse behind the judicial bench. If, as Peggy Noonan says, “candor is a compliment; it implies equality” (What I Saw at the Revolution, 1990), then Judge Bright has paid his readers many kudos with his autobiography.