13 www.loubar.org March 2024 PROFESSIONAL EXCELLENCE The Judge From Central Casting Judge A.C. McKay Chauvin It has been said – and I know because I’m the one who said it – that for most lawyers, the only judges they consider to be real judges are the judges who were already comfortably seated on the bench when they first stood uncomfortably before it. Judge Edwin Schroering was one of my real judges. He served in Division 12 of the Jefferson Circuit Court from 1983 until 1999, after having served as the Jefferson County Commonwealth’s Attorney for twelve years. To fully appreci- ate how remarkable that is in and of itself, consider that in the ten years I was an Assistant Commonwealth’s Attorney I served under four different Commonwealth’s Attorneys, and since Judge Schroering’s retirement – only slightly longer than the amount of time he was on the bench – there have been six judges sitting in Division 12.* While there may have been a total of seven judges to serve in Division 12, Judge Schroering was the first and, moreover, was an original. Even Judge Smith Haynie dubbed Schroering as, “the judge from central casting” – the judge any Hollywood casting director worth their union dues would cast in any major motion picture or TV drama because he absolutely looked the part. (NOTE: This assertion holds true even if the production was set in the United Kingdom instead of the United States because, in addition to having his own robe, Judge Schroreing also had a full-on authentic British bench wig, which he would don occasionally for his audience of lawyers and court staff’s amusement and delight.) However, and unlike those movie and TV judges, in addition to and far more importantly than just looking like a judge, Judge Schroering had the presence and the demeanor of a judge. He listened with inexhaustible patience. He presided with both tremendous dignity and boundless good humor and, very much unlike the aforementioned pretend judges, was unfailingly courteous and kind to everyone who appeared before him. To the lawyers of my generation, his soft-spoken, polite manner appeared quaint but entirely unaffected. He spoke that way and acted that way because he was that way. In discussing this with a number of colleagues who had the great good fortune to practice before Judge Schroering, we decided the word that best describes his disposition in the courtroom would be, appropriately enough, “courtly.” This was true even, or especially, during the worst and most emotion- ally charged moments in court. The best example being the legendary judicial catchphrase with which Judge Schroering would end any sentencing hearing in which he was obliged to sentence the defendant to serve time in the penitentiary. “You may be remanded,” he would say, with such sincerity and extreme politeness that more often than not the person being led out of the courtroom in handcuffs would turn to him and say, “thank you.” The other common theme running throughout the stories told about Judge Schroering was how funny he was. My friend Bill Adams tells the story about the time he had to ask to continue a trial set in Division 12 because his lead officer was required to be at a training seminar that week. Judge Schroering’s response was, “Ah yes. I see. Too busy practicing to play the game.” That’s a funny thing to say but, as any genuinely funny person you know will tell you, it’s not just what you say, but how you say it – timing and delivery – and Judge Schroering had both. But my personal favorite example of his presence, demeanor, timing and delivery is one that I think was very un- derappreciated by those not in on the joke. From time to time judges hear a lawyer make an argument that is so overblown, hyperbolic and out of touch with the reality of the situation that it’s plain silly. When a judge hears an argument like that, his or her two basic choices are: (1) berate the lawyer for mak- ing it; or (2) ignore it and move on. Judge Schroering was the master, if not the author, of the third option. What he would do is summarize the preposterous argument the lawyer had just made but make it even more preposterous. For example, he might say, and I’m not quoting here verbatim but I’m also not exaggerating even a little bit: “Well, now … let me see … counsel for the Defendant says that while it is true that his client did cause the victim’s death by shooting him, the Court should keep in mind that the victim is the only person he’s ever shot and killed and that he only fired four of the six shots that were in the weapon at the time. He says that although the Defendant, as one does under such circumstances, lied to the police about having shot anyone and only later came up with the self-protection claim that was soundly rejected by the jury – one might assume because the victim was unarmed and shot in the back – now that he’s been convicted, the Defendant wants us to know that he is sorry. As such, counsel suggests that it would be best if we allowed the Defendant to put all of this unpleasantness behind him. After all, he points out, it’s not like sending his client to the penitentiary will bring the victim back to life, so the court should allow him to get back to and on with his life – let bygones be bygones as it were. And then finally, he sug- gests that his client has quite probably learned a valuable lesson from this experience and, so far as counsel knows, as the Defendant sits here today, he has no immediate plans to shoot and kill anyone else. Now – what says the Commonwealth?” I don’t know how a Judge Schroeroing-esque re-summation reads on paper, but I remember exactly how they sounded when I heard them in the courtroom. The genius of his pres- ence, demeanor and delivery was his ability to say something as only he could, so saturated with sarcasm and scorn without sounding the least bit sarcastic or scornful. That same pres- ence, demeanor and delivery led the cadre of young prosecu- tors at the Commonwealth Attorney’s office (where his nephew and our friend Steve Schroering was working at the time) to affectionately refer to Judge Schroering as “Uncle Ed.” Which I have to say, in the pantheon of colorful names lawyers have been known to come up with for the judges they appear before, is, much like Judge Schroering himself, uniquely kind and gentle. And I like to think that if he knew we spoke and thought of him that way (which I do not believe he did) that he would have been amused. It was a privilege to know Judge Schroering. It was a wonder- ful gift to have his fine example to follow. He lived a life full of committed service to his community. He was a fine jurist. He was a good man. Rest in peace, “Uncle Ed.” You may be remanded to heaven. * Those six judges are, in chronological order of succession: Judge Tom McDonald, Judge Roger Crittenden, Judge McKay Chauvin, Judge Kathleen Voor Montano, Judge Angela Mc- Cormick Bisig and Judge Patricia “Tish” Morris. Judge Edwin Schroering, Jr. served as an Assistant United States Attorney, as the Commonwealth’s Attorney in Jefferson County for 12 years and as a judge on the Jefferson Circuit Court from 1978 through 1999. Judge Shroering passed away on January 29, 2024, at the age of 94. Edwin Anthony Schroering Jr. Obituary – Courier- Journal. Judge A.C. McKay Chauvin, retired Jeffer- son Circuit Court judge, is the Chief Court Administrator for Jefferson County. n Judge Edwin Schroering, Jr.