I read a few opinions by Justice Mosk this week, which had made me curious to learn more about who he was, what he did, and how he lived.

I came across this wonderful recorded meeting of the Justices of the California Supreme Court to honor Justice Mosk after he passed away. His son, his wife, and various co-workers spoke about Mosk’s life, judicial philosophy, and who he was.

I was captivated by it all. Here are some highlights:

I loved this quote that Mosk’s son shared:

Felix Frankfurter once wrote to a young boy interested in the law that, “No one can be a truly competent lawyer unless he is a cultivated man.” He went on, “Stock your mind with the deposit of much good reading. Widen and deepen your feelings by experiencing vicariously as much as possible the wonderful mysteries of the universe. . . .” Stanley Mosk, throughout his life, did what Mr. Justice Frankfurter recommended.

If I can aspire to anything in my legal career, I hope I can stock my “mind with the deposit of much good reading” and “widen and deepen [my] feelings by experiencing vicariously as much as possible he wonderful mysteries of the universe.” Read Frankfurter’s full letter here.

And this classic from George Bernard Shaw:

As George Bernard Shaw wrote: “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world. The unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

Mosk’s eminent, learned mind is evident from this anecdote:

We [Mosk, Bernie Witkin, and Joseph Cotchett] had met at about 11:30 and the three of us went to lunch. We always laughed because Bernie just used to tell jokes until you couldn’t stop him. We got on the subject of the United States Supreme Court in the 1930’s and the court-packing plan of Franklin Delano Roosevelt; and at this point Stanley Mosk took over and for the next hour recited every single opinion with full citation, almost every page, I’m sure, and the facts about the cases that reversed Roosevelt’s policies in the ‘30s. As he went on and on, I was just in awe. And the most important aspect of it was Bernie sat there without saying a word, which was truly remarkable for Bernie Witkin. Justice Mosk recited every piece of legislation and every case that dealt with it. When it was all over, Bernie Witkin looked over at him and said, “Stanley, do you know the Rule in Shelley’s Case?” I’m pleased to tell you, he said yes and recited it! Thank you very much.

And this, from Mosk’s research attorney, Dennis Peter Maio:

He gave as much attention to the small issues as to the great, for he believed and he acted on the belief that the law was a practical human creation, a mechanism that enabled all sorts of people with all sorts of values and goals to make communal life a going concern, a successful going concern. He was pragmatic, as others have said. But he was pragmatic out of principle. Many of Justice Mosk’s deeds and words at the court were similarly undramatic. To us on his staff, he was a quiet man, even though he had much to say. He was not at all self-important, even though he played a role that was prominent. He generally asked us for nothing, except whatever assistance we might be able to furnish, as in each case he attempted to get to the right result. Many a time, he got to a right result that was not to his liking — every time when it involved affirmance of a judgment of death, for, as all know, he was personally opposed to capital punishment. He would not change the result. Rather, he would pause, grimace, and say a word or two and then pass on to the next matter.

Once, years ago, in a case I still remember clearly, I recommended reversal of a judgment of death. He nonetheless rejected my recommendation, because the result, as I soon had to admit, was wrong. He knew what he liked and what he did not. But he believed that his job was to try to do what was right. I cannot say that he ever failed.

As I close, let me recall a particular memory of Justice Mosk, or rather a particular group of memories. Nine times in the course of the past decade, the moment for execution of a judgment of death would approach. Nine times, he would be found in his chambers, reviewing a last-minute habeas corpus petition if one had been filed, doing other work if one had not. Nine times, as the appointed hour drew near, he would assemble with other members of the court. Nine times, after what had to be done was done, he would leave and make his way home. Never did he say more than a few words. His face, however, always revealed a sad recognition that he would not see this ritual end in his lifetime. More important, his presence always demonstrated a full and open commitment to the law, not only when it guided him where he would go, but also, and perhaps especially, when it took him where he would not.

And, finally, his wife shares a uniquely personal portrait of the late Justice:

In the early morning I would often hear Stanley jogging or two-stepping to his own tune. When he saw me watching him exercise, he would call out: “Kiddo, I’m hungry!” I took this as a signal to prepare breakfast. He loved food–any kind of food–and was very tolerant of my limited cooking skills: Even when I burned his toast and eggs, he would exclaim, “Delicious! What a meal!”

Stanley was always careful about his appearance–not because of vanity, but because he respected his position in public life. When he was ready to go to work each day–always well groomed and wearing a nice suit–he would turn around for my inspection, and I would say: “Okay. Okay. Today you’re even more beautiful than I am.” Then his face would break into a radiant smile and he would leave the house with his usual parting remark: “Well, I’m off to make a living for us.”

What kept Justice Mosk going for 37 years? Simple. “He loved the law.”

What drove Stanley to do what he did so brilliantly, day after day, case after case, for 37 years? A short time before his passing, when we were in Los Angeles for a court session, he came home after a tiring day on the bench and mused how much he loved the law–but told me it would be the last session he would attend.

I’m excited to continue reading cases penned by Mosk, and proud to be living in a State that recognized Mosk’s genius, and put him where he needed to be.