APRIL 12, 2024 – Perhaps my own vocational destiny was inevitable, given how well the law was represented at our end of the neighborhood. There was Judge Green next door, of course, and Dad himself, who was clerk of court, but then on the opposite corner of Rice and Green from our old house was the home of Bob Johnson, who from the beginning of time to nearly the end of his time, was the Anoka County Attorney. Moreover, two of his sons became lawyers and a third grew up to be an FBI agent.
A fourth son was severely disabled and was confined to a residential facility, though when I was a very small kid, I remember, he was on hand during Mother’s visit with Bob’s wife, Charlotte. The entire visit took place in the kitchen and involved lots of coffee, coffee cake, and . . . lots and lots of talk. To counter my boredom I sneaked away for a better look at the inside of Johnson’s stately limestone brick house with multiple dormers on the second floor. The living room furniture was as nice and elegant as the Moore’s. That’s as far as I got before Mother summoned me back to the kitchen.
I spent a lot of time in Johnson’s driveway, however, playing H-O-R-S-E with Steve, who was in Elsa’s class, and one or two of his friends. The older boys would let a couple of other younger neighbors and me play H-O-R-S-E (or P-I-G if it was close to suppertime), but rarely would we younger kids be allowed to scrimmage.
One Saturday our game of H-O-R-S-E got rained out. Steve graciously invited everyone down to the basement to watch TV. We walked in on the middle of the 1941 movie, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, starring Spencer Tracy, Ingrid Bergman, and Lana Turner, though at the time I didn’t recognize or appreciate those names. Charlotte made sure we had plenty of cookies and lemonade to go with the movie. She was always kind toward us neighborhood kids.
A year or two later, Steve had a new baby sister. This was big news in the neighborhood: the Johnsons with the four boys finally had a little girl.
The head of the Johnson clan, Robert Johnson, was Dad’s age plus a year or two. He’d been in the Marines in the Pacific during WW II. I never heard him say anything about his war experience except that he’d “been in the Marines,” but when I was much older I realized he’d probably been through hell and back, especially when he allowed once that he’d seen “some awful things.” Tall, intelligent and intellectual in appearance, by the late 1960s he was presidential advisor Clark Clifford’s exact look-alike.
I’m sure he could’ve gone far in politics had he chosen to do so. He was the county attorney when Dad was appointed clerk of court in 1954, and still held that position when I returned from my Grand Odyssey in December 1981. Mother had shared with him and Charlotte some of my letters home, and Bob especially, was very interested in hearing more about my adventures. I remember being invited with Mother and Dad over to the Johnson’s one evening for dessert and a complete debriefing. Bob asked lots of good questions and listened intently to my responses, particularly about Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union.
Not long after that, he offered me a temporary job doing civil commitments. I much appreciated his accommodation as I trained for the Stockholm Marathon to be held in early June 1982 and rekindled my ties with my old firm of Briggs & Morgan. (The latter effort resulted in my being hired there starting August 1.)
Bob Johnson’s hiring of me, the neighbor kid, was the ironic denouement to “a scene” that the esteemed county attorney had caused unwittingly when I was 12 . . .
It so happened that Bob’s oldest son, Rob, had joined the county attorney’s office soon after graduating from law school. I don’t think Rob worked anywhere else until he retired. During the six weeks that I worked in the county attorney’s office, I got to know Rob (who by then was called, “M.A.,” though I have no idea what those initials stood for) and concluded that he was both a gentleman and a scholar. (I would meet him again decades later when he attended Mother’s funeral.) Years before, both Mother and Dad took note of Bob’s employment of Rob/M.A., but they expressed opposite reactions to it.
One morning in early June, just as Dad was preparing to leave for work, Mother asked him about hiring my oldest sister, Kristina, for the summer. Dad went ballistic. By his reaction I concluded that this wasn’t the first time they’d discussed the issue. Dad was totally opposed to the idea.
“I refuse to be accused of nepotism,” he said.
I’m pretty sure it was the first time I’d heard the word “nepotism,” but in the context of the argument that ensued, its meaning was made abundantly clear.
Mother pointed to the example of Bob Johnson hiring his son and said to Dad, “Bob Johnson hired his son and no one said a thing.”
“Yes, I know,” said Dad angrily, “but that doesn’t make it right. Just because he hired his son doesn’t justify me hiring my daughter. It’s just plain wrong, and public servants especially, shouldn’t be hiring their relatives, so quit asking me to! I won’t do it.”
He roared off in a huff and stuck to his guns. My sister would have to find summer work elsewhere.
Yet eventually, Dad changed his mind. I don’t know why. Someone other than Mother must’ve talked to him about it.[1] In any event, my sister was held to the same high standard that was expected of everyone else in Dad’s office—as was my next sister, who worked in Dad’s office the following summer(!)
Bob Johnson would never know that his hiring of his oldest son had caused such a row between my parents. I wonder what he would’ve thought and said if he had known. Dad didn’t oppose me working for Bob, though it was obvious that the reason I was hired was because we were neighbors and Bob had a favorable impression of me. Was that also not nepotism?
Before the “big scene” between my parents over the question of office nepotism, Dad questioned Bob Johnson’s principles. But now I wonder, with what regret did Dad then compromise his own principles? And after that compromise, did he cut his neighbor some slack? I’ll never know the answers to these questions—beyond my speculation about Judge Keyes’ possible influence over Dad. What I do know, putting nepotism aside, is that both Dad and Bob Johnson were otherwise highly principled—as was Judge Keyes.
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© 2024 by Eric Nilsson
[1] Perhaps it was the Chief Judge, Leonard Keyes, Sr., the man Dad so admired and who had appointed Dad after Dad scored 100% on the civil service exam—the only person to do so among the many applicants for the job. Judge Keyes would serve as Dad’s mentor, and they became close friends with high mutual respect. If I could guess, Mother somehow got through to Judge Keyes, who go through to Dad. If Judge Keyes thought it was okay for Dad to hire my sister, there was no higher authority for Dad to consult. The Judge’s opinion would’ve assuaged Dad’s ethical concerns. In a further ironic twist over the whole issue of nepotism, my introduction to the firm of Briggs & Morgan was through Dad’s connection with Judge Keyes’ son, himself a former judge (Ramsey County District Court) and at the time of my second year of law school, a partner at Briggs!
