One in a series on local judges.
by Sean McManus
Staff Writer
In the days when Jacksonville was defined, in part, by the rise and fall of the Charter Company, the international oil refining and distribution powerhouse whose bankruptcy garnered headlines for the last half of the 1980s, Waddell Wallace was right in the middle of the action as an attorney with Smith Hulsey, which was also defined, in part, by the rise and fall of Charter.
Smith Hulsey (now Smith Hulsey & Busey) was Wallace’s professional home for the 22 years prior to his appointment to the Circuit Court bench by Gov. Jeb Bush. According to Steve Busey, who delivered a speech about Wallace at his investiture almost two years ago, “He was with the firm in every sense since he started as a buck associate out of Florida law school.”
Waddell “Del” Wallace looks a little like a young George Bush Sr. He’s tall and thin and speaks carefully and with authority. His judicial assistant, Mary Anne Johnson, said he is always weighed down with books. The word “scholarship” was used five times during the speech Busey delivered that day. At the University of Florida, he was editor of the Law Review.
In the world of law, his passion is legal theory, but he excelled as a trial lawyer, leading Smith Hulsey’s non-Charter practice during the bankruptcy and thereby helping to diversify a firm that was, at the time, in dire need of diversification. For almost 20 years, Charter accounted for as much as 75 percent of Smith Hulsey’s business. Now, according to Busey, no one client accounts for more than 10 percent.
Wallace’s law career was paved by a string of large successes. He sued the IRS on behalf of Charter when the government over-valued one of its oil refineries, and won. He is also responsible for obtaining one of the largest recoveries in the history of the state on behalf of the Florida Department of Insurance. Wallace and a team of lawyers, in a case riddled with 1980s junk bond cachet, sued former principles at Merrill Lynch and Coopers & Lybrand — litigation arising out of a failed insurer — and won $150 million for the state of Florida.
Wallace is also responsible for landing one of the largest verdicts in the history of Duval County — over $13 million — when he sued a title insurance company that was engaged in a land sale fraud. The infamous Ellis Neder case was actually reversed after what Busey called an “occasionally misguided review by the occasionally misguided District Court of Appeals.” But Busey said, regardless, “the jury loved him.”
The reversal by the Court of Appeals may have been prophetic, as Wallace said he aspires to sit on that bench. He likes legal research and time to think and analyze cases.
When Wallace graduated from law school, after earning a bachelor’s degree in economics from the University of Virginia, Busey said the firm “saw him as a star and recruited him hard.” Wallace said he thought he’d be doing mostly corporate law. Instead Busey, who Wallace called “litigator extraordinaire,” groomed him for business and commercial litigation, anti-trust, competitive disputes and civil defense.
“My friends went to London and Teheran,” joked the self-deprecating Wallace. “I went to Orlando.”
But the high-flying Charter was so dynamic, Wallace said he gained valuable experience in real estate law during the company’s growth, as well as litigation and bankruptcy.
According to Busey, Wallace is the only lawyer in the history of Smith Hulsey who ever came forward to say that he thought his share of the firm’s compensation was too much.
“That’s a true story,” said Busey.
Legend has it that if several key executives had not died in a helicopter crash in the mid-1980s, Charter would have been saved. During the bankruptcy, Wallace switched to new clients. He did work for Baptist Hospital and later St. Vincent’s, Alliance Mortgage, Florida National Bank, First Union and BFI.
Wallace said at the time he was a little reluctant to become a judge. But he had gained a serious reputation as fair, objective, balanced and thoughtful, for reasoning well through difficult issues, for a scholarly and academic approach to research.
In the spring of 1999, a seat opened on the circuit bench. Wallace applied, but the spot went to Mac Mathis. The following year, the Florida legislature created a new seat. Wallace’s name was sent to Gov. Bush by a nominating committee chaired by Holland & Knight’s Buddy Schulz. A few months later, he became a judge.
“It was 180 degree turn from what I was doing at Smith Hulsey,” said Wallace. “But one quickly realizes that you apply the same skills of thought, application of law, principles of advocacy and reasoning.”
Depending on the case load, judges sometimes have to make hard decisions on the fly, something that can be frustrating for the contemplative Wallace. But a lot of cases means a lot of diversity in legal reasoning, and Wallace said he consistently appreciates watching younger attorneys become skilled in the courtroom. He also enjoys being a teacher and he doesn’t mind when attorneys ask a lot of questions.
“And the lawyers teach me,” said Wallace. “The law and legal theory are infinite.”
Wallace added that just being exposed to so many qualified attorneys in Jacksonville is in itself rewarding.
Schulz called Wallace one of Florida’s finest trial lawyers, and said that citizens of Florida are benefited by the willingness of accomplished and experienced lawyers like Wallace, who despite personal and financial sacrifice, run for judicial positions.
Wallace is a tough judge. He’s all for mandatory minimum sentencing for drug arrests, saying that otherwise, going to jail is just a cost of doing business.
“Some say 10-20 is Draconian,” said Wallace. “I think it is a good thing. It strengthens the state.”
But Wallace’s hard line is tempered by Busey recalling him as “an ardent advocate for the disadvantaged,” serving on the board of Jacksonville Area Legal Aid and as its president. He’s also served as president of the Jacksonville Bar Association and the Florida Supreme Court awarded Wallace its pro bono award.
In his investiture speech, Busey remarked that Wallace was president of his senior class at Lee High School and captain of the basketball team. He called that “relevant more for political reasons — good Westside roots — than evidence of judicial timber.”
Wallace’s basketball coach at Lee was Leonard Skinner, the inspiration behind the band Lynyrd Skynyrd’s name. He still plays, but mostly with his children, Nathanial, 15, and Jonathan, 11. He’s also a Little League coach, Little League president, works with the Jacksonville Community Council, and is an ordained elder at Riverside Presbyterian Church.
Wallace met his wife Lucy when he was in law school and she was teaching in Gainesville. They’ve been married for almost 19 years.
Whether it’s to correct the wrongs of the Ellis Neder case, or as a platform for even higher goals, Wallace may be on the appellate bench one day.
Asked if that means he wants to sit on Florida’s Supreme Court, Wallace just smiled.