She took her coffee straight and her whiskey black.
That's how Campbell Haynes described his grandmother, the Honorable Barbara Haynes, who died at home yesterday morning at 84. No could say it any better.
Before she was anything else, Judge Haynes was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a friend to many, including me.
Somehow, she also found the time to be a mentor to her law clerks, like my wife, Jude; an advocate for those who needed advocacy; a strong Democrat and a politician in the very best sense of the term; a pioneer and role model for female lawyers; a loyal Tennessee Volunteer fan; and a friend and confidante to many, many people.
She was everything.
Judge Haynes was the first female General Sessions Judge in Davidson County. Later, when I first met her, she had moved across the street and was the Third Circuit Court Judge, where she served for more than 20 years. In 1993 or 1994, mentor, Steve Cox, introduced me to Judge Haynes, when we spent the day with her in a judicial settlement conference in her office. While she and Steve smoked cigarettes tougher - yes, it was a different time, then - I just sat in her chambers and listened to the two of them. Was Telling jokes, laughing, talking about Tennessee football, and, occasionally, discussing the case at hand.
Judge Haynes settled that case, of course. She made it all look so easy. There were multiple lawyers in the case, as I recall, and a plaintiff with serious injuries. In other words, there were a lot of moving parts, not the least of which were the egos of the lawyers and the personality of a difficult young defense lawyer (who shall remain nameless) who treated the formidable plaintiff's lawyer, Gayle Malone, with disdain and disrespect. Judge Haynes navigated those waters with confidence and aplomb and after a full day, we left with a settlement in hand, ready to move on to the next thing.
As I think about it this morning, with Judge Haynes, I likely wouldn't have met Jude and there would be no J.P. and Joe. In fact, this blog might not even exist.
Jude clerked for Judge Haynes. She was one of her "junior judges," a small cadre of female lawyers who worked as law clerks for Judge Haynes for a year or two, right out of law school. Judge Haynes mentored those young ladies when they worked for her. She taught them how to practice law and so much more.
I suspect Judge Haynes also taught them how to be wives and mothers, while also building and maintaining successful legal careers. I know she taught her daughter and my friend, Mandy Haynes Young, the same lesson, because that's exactly what Mandy has done. And that's what Lee Anne, Jude, Marianne, Mira have done, as well.
I met Jude - actually, I first laid eyes on Jude - in Judge Haynes' courtroom. I talked to her the first time, I'm sure, waiting outside Judge Haynes' office to see her about a case. Somehow, I learned that Jude had been on Wheel of Fortune - another story entirely - and while she was working for Judge Haynes, I called her "the lovely Jude White," paying homage to the lovely Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune. It was my little joke.
Judge Haynes' impact on her law clerks lives - personal and professional - didn't end when they left her, though. She helped them find their first jobs in the legal profession. And, later, she kept tabs on them and helped them find second and third jobs, until they landed where they needed to be. Always there with a word or two of advice, personal or professional, Judge Haynes' impact and influence on these ladies continued long after their tenure with her ended.
Later, after Jude and I were married and my Mark Puryear and I had established our law practice in Franklin, I often stopped by to see Judge Haynes when I was in court in Nashville. Without fail, when I showed up before court or when she was on a break, she ushered me into her chambers and told me to sit down.
Judge Haynes was one of those rare people with the innate ability make you feel like you were the only person in the world when she focused her attention on you and that what you had to say mattered. When I talked, she got quiet, and listened intently to whatever it was that I was saying. And then, of course, I listen to what she said in response.
So, of course, I sat, and we talked about Jude first, the boys, my law practice, and always, the Tennessee Vols.
"How is Jude?" Judge Haynes would ask. "Is she happy at work? I've been thinking about her and where she needs to be. Vanderbilt Children's Hospital? State government? I might make some calls. Tell her to come see me if she needs to talk to me."
There are people in this world - too few of them I'm afraid - whose light shines so brightly that just to be in it for few moments is to be warmed by it. That was Judge Haynes. Perhaps her greatest gift - to me and to all of us - is that she was her willingness to generously share her light. Always and without fail.
I left every interaction with Judge Haynes happier than I was when I walked in to see her. Happier to be a husband, a father, and to be a lawyer. I don't know that there has been anyone else in my life about whom I can say that.
And I know - I mean, I really know - that there are hundreds of people that feel the same way.
Over the years, I realized that part of why Judge Haynes meant so much to me was that she reminded me of my mother. For sure, they were cut from the same cloth. In many ways, she was the Tennessee Vols version of my Vanderbilt mother.
Both of them came from humble beginnings. Both of them were educated at a time when many women were not. Both of them were smokers, particularly early on. Both of them loved sports. Both of them were hilariously funny and loved to laugh. And, above all else, both of them loved their families fiercely.
Rest In Peace, Judge Haynes.
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