Remembering Jay Quinn
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William J. Leahy, Chief Counsel
Jay Quinn’s death at age 63 on March 24 was not unexpected. He was fully prepared, at peace with himself, and at home in the loving company of his family. He was totally ready. But we who knew Jay as a consummate public defender, and continued to see and enjoy him after he became a judge, were not and are not ready to accept his absence. This smart, funny, gutsy, grounded and dedicated man made a unique impact in the improvement of both public defender representation and the fairness of the justice dispensed in Bristol County and all of Massachusetts. Both the lives of those who knew him, and the quality of the criminal justice system to which he devoted his legal career have been immeasurably depleted by his departure. Jay Quinn became a public defender in 1966, just three years after Gideon v. Wainwright, and six years after the establishment of the Massachusetts Defenders Committee. The chronology of Jay’s career is easy to state: public defender in the MDC Bristol County office from 1966 to 1971; assistant district attorney for Bristol County until 1975; attorney-in-charge of MDC Bristol County office from 1975 until his appointment as associate justice of the New Bedford District Court in 1989. No chronology, however, can begin to describe Jay’s importance. From the moment of his selection as office head by MDC chief counsel Gerry Schaefer, Jay Quinn stated a single goal: to make his public defender office the finest criminal defense law firm in Bristol County. He did just that; by his own personal example of excellence in litigating the entire range of criminal cases; by freely dispensing his sage advice; by supporting his lawyers and staff at every turn; by treating every client and person with respect. The reverence for Jay the man as well as Jay the lawyer and judge was evident at his funeral Mass on March 28. Judge Rosemary Minehan and CPCS regional supervisor Alan Zwirblis shared many happy and inspiring recollections of Jay’s vitality, his endearing idiosyncrasies, and his many achievements. Throughout his career, Jay displayed a tenacious passion for fairness in the criminal law. Three cases--three quests, really--may furnish a glimpse of that passion. In Commonwealth v. Duquette, 386 Mass. 834 (1982), Jay single-handedly protected the procedural rights of defendants who would "admit to sufficient facts" in hopes of receiving a "continuance without a finding" in the District Court. Jay was offended by a prevalent practice in which a defendant could trade away his or her right to trial in exchange for a CWOF, without any meaningful judicial inquiry as to whether the defendant understood the possible consequences (i.e., incarceration) which might result from an unsuccessful continuance period. When he presented his idea for a test case to Browny Speer and me, we were afraid that his proposed challenge could endanger the availability of this informal, often favorable disposition. Jay argued and proselytized, and eventually overcame our fears. The unanimous SJC decision vindicated his reasoning on the merits. "If the admission is to be given the effect of a guilty plea, it must be supported by the same demonstrations of voluntariness and intelligence that are required of any other guilty plea in the courts of the Commonwealth." 386 Mass. at 842-843. Likewise, the Court endorsed the utility of the CWOF as "a procedure which often serves the best interests of both the Commonwealth and the defendant." Jay had succeeded in protecting unwitting defendants against punishment without adequate process, and had avoided sacrificing a widely used and often beneficial informal disposition...just as he had planned. Jay demonstrated similar vision and tenacity in Commonwealth v. Gomes, 407 Mass. 206 (1990). Gomes is the major case which protects indigent criminal defendants from summary imposition of court costs, and summary incarceration for failure to pay those costs, after failing to appear in court. The SJC holdings are numerous, unanimous and protective: the district court must hold a hearing to determine whether a default is "willful"; the costs imposed must be limited to "actual expenses resulting directly from the defendant’s default." Before incarceration for failure to pay costs may be considered, there must be a hearing, with counsel, to determine whether the defendant’s failure to pay was willful; and, in any event, the judge must consider alternatives to incarceration before jailing a person for nonpayment of costs. You will not see Jay Quinn’s name on the Gomes decision. Alan Zwirblis and now Juvenile Court judge Lou Coffin appeared in the SJC for the defendant, after Jay had been sworn in as a judge. But it was Jay Quinn’s outrage at a too often tolerated judicial practice, which precipitated and guided this challenge. Then there is the case in which Jay himself became the defendant; held in contempt and summarily confined for refusing a judge’s order to conduct a pre-trial conference in another public defender’s case! Jay simply refused to acquiesce, and fought the issue all the way to the Supreme Judicial Court, where the case was ultimately mooted and thus never reported. Jay fought this battle not for his own ego, but to uphold the principle that poor people represented by public defenders enjoy an equal right to individual representation by their attorney of record. His position was vindicated in Commonwealth v. Brennick, 14 Mass. App. Ct. 952 (1982), which ruled that public defenders are not fungible; and in Commonwealth v. Jordan, 49 Mass. App. Ct. 802, 808 (2000), which explicitly stated the constitutional basis for the principle that the attorney-client relationship involving a public defender or other assigned counsel "is no less inviolable than if counsel had been retained. To hold otherwise would be to subject that relationship to an unwarranted and invidious discrimination arising merely from the poverty of the accused." Years later, Jay was asked by a reporter to reflect upon his experience: I think the essence of it was the judge was saying I ought to handle a case which was the case of another person in the public defender’s office. I think it’s important that the public defender client have his own lawyer, just like everybody else does, and that public defend[ers] are not functionaries of the court who are interchangeable parts.... I felt that it was an important point at the time and I still do and I was prepared to suffer the consequences. These examples demonstrate that Jay Quinn cared as deeply about the "small" cases as the big jury trials (though he tried these with excellence). He confronted built-in systemic injustices as strongly as he contested acts of intentional unfairness. For Jay, a full and fair defense for every client was always paramount. He possessed an unwavering belief that our system of criminal justice must operate fairly, must treat all people respectfully, and must avoid discrimination based on wealth or any other invalid basis. To this day, my attempt to articulate what’s wrong about the mandatory drug sentencing laws looks back twenty years, to Jay’s colorful and realistic examples of the inevitable biases which pervade and frustrate the evenhanded enforcement of this crude law enforcement tool. It was this unflinching commitment to fairness which made Jay Quinn such an invaluable, seemingly irreplaceable member of the SJC Advisory Committee on the Rules of Criminal Procedure in recent years. Our membership on this committee gave me a chance to renew my friendship with Jay, and to learn by watching his skillful persuasion. It was such a pleasure to observe his quick wit, his pragmatic vision, his wisdom, and his insistence upon fairness. Those of us who came to know and appreciate Jay Quinn first as a public defender are bereft at our loss. We join Jay’s judicial colleagues and his legions of admirers in Bristol County and beyond in their grief. Still, who can fail to smile while recalling this selfless hero’s annual appraisal after completing the interviews, for which he always volunteered, of new public defender applicants: "They are so highly qualified. I’m lucky I was hired years ago, because I wouldn’t have a chance against these people." Once, during his tenure as New Bedford office head, Jay was asked by a reporter why he persisted in such demanding and unremunerative work: Maybe stubborn is the word, I don’t know. I think sometimes society and the institutions for society don’t want to afford the same type of treatment or latitude to the underdog. Taking on the responsibility for making sure that society does do that...is a challenging and rewarding thing. Asked to elaborate, Jay did so in words that ring for defenders everywhere: I’m not sure if stubborn is a perjorative term. But determined, tenacious, however you might want to characterize it. And I think you have to be. When you talk about the lawyers for the affluent, there might be a little bit of difference in style because of the resources. But there are no good defense lawyers who don’t have tenacity and determination and stubbornness. There are times when you have to stick to your guns and fight it out. If you aren’t prepared to do that, then you can’t do the job. Jay Quinn managed always to look forward, realistically but with palpable optimism and determination, no matter how imposing the task or the challenge at hand, right to the very end. He leaves a permanent public defender and judicial legacy; and the honored memory of a life worth emulating.
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