Let me just begin by saying my wife, Mary, likes studying people while waiting in places like restaurants and airports. There we were waiting to board a flight when Mary leaned over and whispered in my ear, “There’s a woman over there that’s cutting you killer eyes.” I looked up and there she was, the antagonist of a constitutional crisis that occurred in Cottageville, South Carolina, a small town in rural Colleton County with a population just shy of eight hundred.
The wife of an old client of mine was sued being for being part of a civil conspiracy to defame the reputation of the Cottageville Town Clerk and have her unceremoniously fired from her job. It all began when the former mayor of Cottageville was killed driving eighty-something miles an hour on the county’s back roads. The newly elected mayor thought it would be wise as part of his orientation for his new job to meet individually with the town’s staff. The meeting with the town clerk lasted longer than most, in fact, it seemed never ending.
People began noticing the mayor’s and clerk’s cars parked outside the locked Town Hall at all hours, day and night. Tongues in the small town began wagging. The gossip escalated when the mayor gave the clerk a brand new desk placed right outside the mayor’s office with a large ornate clerk sign. In contravention of the town’s time-honored open-door policy, henceforth people were told they needed an appointment to meet with either the mayor or town clerk and the clerk’s snooty attitude if the new rule was violated ruffled more a few feathers in the town.
Idle gossip allegedly became slander when the clerk was flat out accused of having an affair with the mayor at the local beauty salon. The clerk’s specifics as to who, what, where, and when the alleged slander occurred were exceedingly vague. But the clerk maintained it was the beginning of the end of her virtuous reputation.
The next act in furtherance of the alleged conspiracy occurred at the local bank. A teller allegedly repeated the slander when the clerk demanded immediate service ahead of other customers. The teller’s comments included a suggestion the clerk should take the town’s business elsewhere allegedly causing pecuniary damage to her livelihood.
It was the Cottageville dry cleaner who brought the simmering constitutional crisis to a boil. Cottageville being such a small town it was not unusual for the dry cleaner to deliver cleaned laundry right into your home. One day the good citizens of Cottageville, including my client, were enjoying their lunch at the Good Eats restaurant on the main drag when the dry cleaning lady came in an excitedly exclaimed for all to hear, “You won’t believe what I just saw!” She went to describe how she entered the mayor’s back door, like she always did when delivering his dry cleaning, she encountered the mayor standing with his pants down around his ankles and the clerk on her knees by the kitchen table. It took all of about ten seconds for this news flash to be repeated to every inhabitant of the town.
And it was the last straw for the good ladies of Cottageville, my client included, who decided to join together and run for Town Council for the express purpose of firing the clerk. And, they won the election and did exactly that. Good riddance, well not so fast. The town clerk retaliated by filing a lawsuit against the town and all the newly elected council members for besmirching her reputation and destroying her ability to earn a living.
The lawyers representing the other defendants and I filed answers to the lawsuit denying the allegations, pleading truth as a defense, and raising as many affirmative defenses as we could think of. We answered discovery and, after four or five months racking up legal fees, we were finally ready to take the clerk’s deposition. With the town, mayor, and co- defendants all having lawyers, the deposition was well into the second day when it was my turn to cross-examine the clerk. The lawyer’s ahead of me had already elicited adamant denials of infidelity from the clerk and I certainly felt no reason to beat that dead horse. I focused on what evidence, if any, the clerk had my client actually accused her of anything. Oh, she was right in the thick of it, the clerk claimed, joined right in with those other ladies to do her dirty. When it turned out she didn’t have any evidence my client accused her of anything, I filed a motion for summary judgment.
We drew the Honorable Carmen Tevis to hear the motion. Judge Tevis let it be known in no uncertain terms she had no intention of listening to the sorted details of the alleged debauchery at the hearing. Having already described the details in detail in my not so brief brief, I whole heartedly agreed with the judge and told her it was the complete lack of evidence my client had said anything about the clerk’s conduct that entitled her to summary judgment. When the clerk’s lawyer protested my client had campaigned on a platform to have the clerk fired, I admitted as much but countered with my client had the constitutional right to do so.
Judge Tevis agreed and granted summary judgment.
I mistakenly thought everyone was glad it was over. Certainly, my client, her co-defendants, and the town who all had limited resources to pay mounting legal fees were glad it was over. No appeal was taken from Judge Tevis’ order by the clerk’s counsel who I suspected had unwisely taken the case on a contingency fee and seen the writing on the wall. But, obviously not everybody was happy with the result. Here I was sitting in the airport with my wife worrying I was about to be assaulted by some crazy lady. I assured her it is the price we lawyers have to be willing to pay for fighting to preserve and protect our constitutional rights. A price I have paid many times having been appointed by the Court to represent despicable people accused of committing horrendous crimes. Although no major movie studio has called offering to buy the rights to this monumental constitutional battle fought out in the back woods of the deep south, I will always consider role in the case a badge of honor
