Changing of the Guard.

Today was my boss's last day in the office, after 25 years as the Federal Public Defender here in Colorado. I've just returned home from his retirement party, which was bittersweet and wholly satisfying. The evening included a video that was so marvelously creative and funny that I nearly wet my pants from laughter. Highlights included two prominent criminal defense lawyers in drag doing a musical tribute to the Boss, Boulder street people ruminating as to what kind of fruit or vegetable the Boss might be, and a "news flash" segment about the Fall of the Boss, complete with scenes of a jubilant populace dancing in the street and toppling statues of the Boss, while CNN-like update text scrolled at the bottom of the screen. And of course, the usual in-joke silliness that makes my office such a truly fantastic place to work.

After some roasting and toasting, the big guy stepped up to say a few words. He then proceeded to speak for over an hour, but if I hadn't looked at my watch, I would never have believed it was more than fifteen minutes. He's a captivating orator, and though he started with the cliche "this isn't about me, it's about you," what followed was anything but cliched. Instead, he traced the beginnings of the Federal Defender office here, the circumstances that gave this office credibility right from the start, and the superb lawyers who built the reputation on which my colleagues and I stand today.

He reminded us that he and the other members of the office in the early 80s (a few of whom are still defenders, and many others who were in attendance tonight) had to go up against an impossibly tough and talented bunch of Assistant U.S. Attorneys. He reminded us that back in those days, being a public defender meant no prestige, few resources, and lousy pay. He reminded us, too, that 40 years ago, the Supreme Court had only just recognized the right of an indigent defendant to free counsel. And that 35 years ago, there were almost no federal defender offices and few states had public defender systems. Yet today, roughly 90% of the federal judicial districts have an FPD office, and most states have established competent defender systems. The Boss cautioned us that our work is far from done, and that we can never relent in our fight to protect the rights of those who are most at risk to forfeit them.

He then traced the evolution of policy and personnel that brought us to what he called "the Modern Era" of the office. In this era, a young lawyer with a sterling pedigree (like, say, me) gratefully walks away from a hefty salary and a schmancy law firm to become a federal public defender. The state's top criminal defense attorneys react to being offered a federal defender job by sighing, "Thank God." And hundreds of applicants vie for each open position in our office, willing to leave lucrative private law practices for the privilege of joining us.

In some ways, the Boss's words were foreshadowed earlier in the day, when the Chief District Judge swore in the New Boss (a longtime trial lawyer in our office and an all-around wonderful guy). The Chief Judge spoke of the legacy the Boss is leaving us, and expressed his certainty that we will carry on that legacy under our new leadership.

As I listened to the Boss's eloquent words, I found myself reflecting on just how lucky I am to have a job that I love, doing work that I believe in passionately, with people I adore and respect. I am exceptionally fortunate to have landed where I am today. And so tonight, I say a silent thanks to the men and women who paved the way for me by building the federal defender office into the premier criminal defense team in town. I stand on their shoulders, and I cherish their legacy.