In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

282 chapter twenty-four Family and Friends As the chief judge of the Fifth Circuit from 1960 to 1967, as the leader of a court that took the constitutional rights of black Americans seriously and insisted they be recognized, Tuttle was something of a pariah. Still, as he was quick to point out, he had it comparatively easy. It helped that Atlanta was perhaps the most progressive city in the Deep South, and it helped that everyone knew he was not a native southerner, that he had actually gone to an integrated school. “They didn’t expect much of me,” he would explain. Being a veteran of hand-to-hand combat and being known as a man of absolute integrity helped as well. But nothing was as important as the support of his family and friends. Throughout his decades on the bench, Tuttle recused himself from any matters in which Sutherland, Asbill & Brennan participated. That disqualification had a salutary effect on his social life. He never had to worry that his deep friendships with his former partners would be viewed with suspicion . When he stepped down as chief judge at age seventy, he took up golf for the first time. When he wasn’t playing with other judges or with his grandson David Tuttle, Tuttle’s most frequent companions were two of the first associates he and Bill Sutherland had brought into the firm, Randolph Thrower and Jim Wilson. Tuttle had once been their mentor; as time went on, they became his best friends. They were first among equals in a disappointingly small group of Atlanta attorneys who steadfastly supported Tuttle’s bold leadership of the Fifth Circuit. To the undying shame of the profession, during the difficult years of the civil rights revolution not one bar association or law faculty in the South stepped forward and spoke up in defense of the work of the federal courts. In addition to a few stalwart friends, Tuttle had the constant support of his family. In the beginning, Sara would not have chosen the path they took. She was comfortable with the mores of the old South Family and Friends » 283 in which she had been raised, and she worried about offending her friends, whose attitudes toward blacks she understood and, for a time, had shared. But Sara Tuttle loved her husband, and she knew him very well. By the time he went on the court in 1954, they had been married thirty-five years; together they had weathered the Great Depression and World War II. She brooked no criticism of her husband because she lived by one driving principle: whenever Elbert did something, it was the right thing to do. Tuttle was also graced by the complete understanding and support of his children and their spouses. When Tuttle joined All Saints’ Episcopal Church, there were no black members, as best he could recall. Still, he felt confident that All Saints’, unlike Peachtree Christian, would readily accept black members. Tuttle believed this in part because All Saints’ was an intown church with a progressive pastor, Frank Ross, and in part because of Tuttle’s exposure to the Episcopalian religion through his son-in-law, the Reverend John Harmon. A pacifist, John had joined the British Field Service as an ambulance driver and left Princeton for World War II before finishing his senior thesis. His topic was the magazine the Christian Century, and his approach was encyclopedic—besides conducting voluminous research, he read every issue. When he came home on a three-month leave in 1944, the leave during which he and Nicky were married, he stuffed his research in a big ammunition box and took it back with him. He never opened the box. Too much had changed, and he could not get his heart back in the project. On the way home, one day out of New York harbor, in the dead of night he dumped the whole box over the side of the ship. John went back to Princeton to finish his thesis and earn his degree, but he struggled over what career to pursue. Before the war he had considered history as a profession; now he was uncertain. By Labor Day, 1946, Nicky was seven months pregnant with their first child. In need of advice, John decided to seek out an Episcopalian priest he knew named Norman Pittenger. In 1951 Pittenger, by then becoming recognized as an important process theologian, would join the faculty of the General Theological Seminary...

Share