by Bradley Parsons
Staff Writer
As a nine-person committee ran through a marathon series of interviews designed to find Duval County’s next judge, every seat inside the interview room was filled... with boxes of documents.
The seats inside Chief Judge Don Moran’s chambers had been set aside for spectators of the public proceedings. Howerver, they were used instead for storage space, a necessity given the volume of paperwork compiled on the candidates.
Each of the 19 aspirants to fill the judicial vacancy recently created by the Florida Legislature has already had their background and qualifications vetted. Each is at least a five-year veteran of the Florida Bar with its own notoriously thorough application process. But even with that background, the judicial application process proved daunting for the candidates.
The 14-page application probes just about every aspect of the candidates’ lives, from their trial histories to their driving records. One candidate spent weeks compiling his trial record and obscure data like his high school class standing. But early in the nominating committee’s deliberations, it was the driving records that attracted the most attention.
The number of moving violations listed on many of the applications shocked committee member Angela Corey, an assistant state attorney. Chairwoman Mary Bland Love instructed the members to take everything into account, including a propensity to rack up speeding tickets. Numerous tickets could point to a disregard for Florida law, she said. Committee member Michael Stokes had a different interpretation.
“That might be a judge I want to appear before,” he joked.
Gov. Jeb Bush convened the committee in June, charging it with the duty to cull three to six top candidates from the field. Bush will make the appointment from among the committee’s recommendations. In performing its duty, the committee takes everything into account. Not just the candidates’ qualifications, but their demeanor; not just their answers to questions, but how they present the answers.
Shortly after entering the room, each of the first four candidates interviewed assumed the same conspicuously judicial pose at the end of the interview table: straight backed, leaning slightly forward toward the questioners, folded hands laid on the table.
The questions ranged from benign to pointed. Each candidate was asked about their out-of-the-office reading habits. One candidate’s membership in the American Civil Liberties Union came up as did another’s paternity suits.
As expected, the answers included plenty of lawyer talk: “I don’t feel like I have a lack of experience, it’s just something I haven’t actually done.” But some were surprisingly candid. One candidate said, “I am what I am, and it’s what I’ve always been,” while another thankfully listed the changes he had made since his impetuous youth.
The committee ground through the candidates at 20-minute intervals. With 19 interviews to get through, introductions and small talk was kept to a minimum. No sooner had Love escorted one candidate out than she would usher the next one in. These candidates at least had a chance to make their case in person.
Judicial districts in South Florida, facing as many as 40 applicants for a single position, have had to cut candidates strictly based on their applications or following five-minute interviews.
Love said Duval County may have to resort to those field-thinning options if interest grows for the next judicial vacancy.
“If we have more than 19 candidates, we may have to make some cuts on paper next time,” she said.