This court is a family, and there will be times that I will make remarks about my family members. They will not be repeated beyond the chambers door. Even if I occasionally blow off steam, remember that these judges are my colleagues and will be my friends long after you are gone from here.

—Judge Aldisert, United States Court of Appeals
for the Third Circuit

The news broke the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. It made Black Tuesday seem like a deep-tissue massage. Sanjay called, instructing me to turn on CNN (he’d generously handed me down his nine-inch TV when he got a flat screen). Wolf Blitzer was voicing over a documentary on Judge Linda Adams. Her modest beginnings in Pittsburgh. The daughter of a Sears manager and an elementary school teacher. Valedictorian of South Pittsburgh High School. Student government at Penn State. Law Review at Temple. Private practice. Court of appeals judge. Three lovely daughters. The creepy Kenny G background music was the backbreaking last straw, sending me into fetal position. If CNN’s love song to Adams broke this camel’s back, I could only imagine what was being broken at the judge’s happy house—poor Bob. The phone forced me from my embryonic state. It was Sanjay again.

“Don’t you think it’s interesting they’re not saying anything about the mayor?” he asked casually. Normally, I’d be outraged by such a comment, attributing female achievement to the husband. But in this case, it was true. Joe Adams had been Philadelphia’s mayor for four years and was widely credited with the city’s rebirth. As such, not since Jackie O had a first lady been as popular as Linda Adams. Weeks earlier, the mayor had been reelected by a landslide. Everyone in our chambers pretended like the election never happened.

Foolishly, Kate had asked if she could take an extra ten minutes at lunch to vote. The judge simply stated: “I do NOT have time for my law clerks to wander around the city during working hours.” I found Kate’s request to be more irritating than the judge’s response—she should have known better than to ask for such favors as exercising her constitutional right. The rest of us did.

As far as I was concerned, Philadelphia didn’t even have a mayor. And if it did, I surmised it was probably Judge Friedman. Judge Friedman clearly agreed. She never even called Judge Adams to congratulate her. Yet another huge elephant in chambers. The place was like an invisible safari.

“Yes, I do think it’s weird, Sanj. Listen—I need to get to work. I’ll call you later,” I muttered and hung up.

Resolving to pull myself together, I walked to the courthouse and approached security.