When

you visited our prison cells

leg chains, waist chains, and handcuffs

fell clattering on cement floors

one always felt better

no matter

how many chains were plied on

how many iron cell doors slammed behind you

one always felt better.

 

When

you spoke in court

your rich baritone voice

easily understood by all

your breath was dignity.

 

When

twenty five years ago you came to work on our case

that grey cold slushy Detroit December 1970

glasses perched on your head,

side burns leaping off your face

your long graying hair flying wildly on your head

with Chicago 8 prison time on your back,

that case temporarily lost, defendants railroaded

the twisted caricature of a federal Judge laying

contempt charges

nixon and his henchmen, sneering and

throat full of chuckles

their dirty hands rubbing in anticipation

"We got him now..." or so they thought.

Not knowing your resilience, your real worth

Back against the wall, we all were (coast to coast)

from Bobby Seale and Ericka Huggins on trial in

Connecticut South to D.C. for H. ÎRapâ Brown, West for

Angela Davis north to the 4 AM-dawn murder of a

beautiful black man Fred Hampton shot up in his bed

asleep,

(if they had Frequent flyer miles then you would have

had your own plane.)

It was a full court press then, coast to coast-1969 to

1974, the recent actions of the FBI in Ruby Ridge,

Idaho & Waco, Texas,

Repulsive but a trifle compared to the daily onslaught

of beating, jailing, raids, killing

 

that we all faced daily--

under it all led by the Chicago Tribune and parroted by

Paul Harvey on ABC-Radio blasted was the call for the

disbarment of Bill Kunstler.

Bill driving his VW, shuttling on planes always

fighting for the individual

always aware of the constitutional issues, fighting for

free speech, the right

to assemble, basic stuff, trying to reduce super high

bails, filing motions,

filing appeals, waiving your fees,

(in our case you asked for dry-cleaning and a commune

to live in)

We had a minor beef in our CIA Conspiracy Case;

you wouldnât say "your Honor"

"I will NOT elevate the judge, theyâre human, I say the

court, as:

the court will note or if the court pleases"

We almost fired you that day, we demanded direction

we would do the time,

after 30 minutes of hollering you saw the wisdom of

calling a

learned Black Federal Judge appointed by LBJ

"Your Honor" and seeking justice.

You would try it.

 

The First day in court, you were a bundle of nerves

worrying, pacing, the Judge granted a few motions,

as we broke for lunch the Judge wanted to see you in

chambers.

you went thinking you were being wood sheded

but he wanted you to see his photos

this here is me w/JFK, w/Bobby, hereâs with Martin

and the toper was when he took you to lunch

bragging "Look who is in my courtroom, the famous Bill

Kunstler!"

Bill wasnât a YIPPEE! anymore, he was the BADDEST

attorney

on the planet then, Lenny Weinglass tearing off case law support

Buck Davis making his points, Bill reading it all into

the record.

 

Later you found the hole in the case, and when the

judge made history,

ruling against the nixon just-us gang,

you supporting it up to the supreme court,

winning eight to zero,

the prison doors OPENED

out tumbled the Panthers, the Chicago Eight, the

weathermen, the Berigan Bros, shucks

the prison doors flew open. The Magician.

 

For over twenty years I fought

struggled and organized in Alaska

raised a family, worked for the eight hour day,

justice at the work place.

Every so often Iâd hear your baritone, that voice

through the radio, or on the TV, still fighting

through the fog, on the courthouse steps

so concise so tight, 28 seconds, perfect sound bites,

(I would imagine TV news directors frustrated, no way

to cut it-run it whole...) and I would always remark,

A GREAT AMERICAN, A GOOD MAN,

to anyone who was nearby, be it a super market shopper

or union official, bringing puzzling looks as

you defended those who could get nobody to help.

 

No matter the charges,

or the severity of the charges,

no matter that the media had a field day

painted us all so mean and terrible

against all the charges, against all the pressures

the lasting quality you used so well

Bill Kinstler--The Freedom Fighter

Bill Kunstler--The magician

HE MADE US ALL ANGELS.

September 18, 1995

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