What a touching story.
I remember this day, like it was yesterday. I was across town, state lines, on duty for employer law firm, filing papers in US federal court, Newark, NJ. But by the time I arrived to the clerk’s counter, to file papers, I was clueless. Yet, already – were Howard Stern like spineless conjectures and jokes on the fire for fodder as I handed over the documents to the clerk, befuddled by his smirking about with his colleague, jesting back and forth. “What. Didn’t you hear.” “Hear what?” I asked curious to what the chat was about. “The Challenger had a “Barbeque over Miami. What, you weren’t invited? Haven’t you heard.” I didn’t understand. I’d just come off the Path train, busy morning, under mad fire with Partners needing a concise – “perfect” filing of their brief or motion in court, at that precise time, moment, second. I was Johnny law clerk, assistant, file clerk, process server, almost shoeshine boy, depending on the hour, but normally “used to” substantial pressure on slightly taxing measures on a lawyers mind after their masterminding, genius work, was to be handed over to a federal district court’s clerk, the first scrutiny for filing compliance measures being met, affidavits notarized, supporting affirmations, but most importantly, slightly, it meeting the demands the law clerk for the judge that was going to skewer it with, their “filing,” with the judge’s clerk every knife eye of a Cherokee to find some mistake in order to justify sending it back “deficient,” and fuck with the 250k a year cowboy whose invitation list they weren’t on last summer for that mad party in South Hampton everybody talked about all fall.
My heart goes out to this family. I too lost a dearly loved one to the heavens abruptly, and much to early for their time.