Women of the Seventies

As we began to conceptualize the fall issue of Saint Louis Brief magazine, we knew that we wanted to include in it a story about women in the law. But, as can be imagined, this was a very broad, and very daunting, project. That’s only because there is so much to say about women in the legal profession and so little space in which to say it. We realized this after a panel of female professors and administrators put their heads together to discuss the many alumnae we might be able to feature in our article. By the end of the meeting, we had enough women to fill fifteen magazines! So when someone suggested we narrow the focus to include those women who were, in many ways, trailblazers for women in the field of law at the time — the 1970s female attorneys — we felt it was more doable. This decade was, after all, a significant one for women. It was during this time that many became the first women in their family to attend law school. Outnumbered by men 10 to 1 in 1971, for example, women were beginning to pave the way on a path that, just a few years before, had never been trod upon. Some left their careers to attend law school. Others went to school part time and raised their children. Regardless of the paths they took to get to Saint Louis University School of Law, so many female graduates from the 1970s left indelible marks in the fabric of the legal community. And so many of them continue to make those marks today.

In this article, we will celebrate seven such women who responded to a letter that was sent out to every female graduate from 1970 to 1979. They shared with us their personal stories — stories of innovation, of great strength of character, and, ultimately, of great satisfaction with the choices they made to become legal professionals. We are honored to be able to share those stories with you. So let these next few pages serve as a well-deserved badge, not just to the women whose words are captured on them, but, more importantly, to women everywhere who understand the power they have to make a difference. We salute you for helping to prove, every day, just how real that power is.

It is hard to believe I graduated from Saint Louis University School of Law over 25 years ago. I remember how excited my family was to go to the Supreme Court of Missouri in 1978 for my oath of admission to the Missouri Bar. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to have the opportunity to actually sit behind the Missouri Supreme Court bench to hear oral arguments during my career.

Still, I always knew I wanted to go to law school. Although my parents are not college graduates, they instilled in their children the importance of a good education. Because I am one of eight children, they could not help me financially in college — I remember them telling me that if there was any money available for college tuition, it should go to my five brothers who would need a good education so they could support their families. Fortunately, I was able to put myself through college in three years through scholarships and work-study. My parents encouraged me to become a teacher so I would always have a degree “to fall back on.”

I graduated from the University of Missouri-Columbia with a B.S. in Education in 1974. Although I taught school for a year to save money, my desire for a legal education was still a priority, so I applied to law school. When I entered Saint Louis University School of Law, I was in the first class at the School that had twenty to thirty percent women, which seemed revolutionary at the time.

When I started working at the Public Defender’s Office in the city of St. Louis in 1978, there were a few women attorneys, but not a female judge on the circuit bench. I was happy when Judge Anna Forder, ’74, was appointed by Governor Teasdale in 1979. I joined the Women Lawyers Association shortly after becoming a lawyer. I found the companionship and camaraderie extremely supportive and beneficial. I served as president of that organization from 1986-1987. During that year, our organization worked on getting women appointed to the judiciary. In the spring of 1987, the president of the Kansas City Women Lawyers Association and I met in Jefferson City to encourage the Chief Judge of the Supreme Court and the Governor to consider appointing a woman to the appellate court for the first time in Missouri history. We were delighted when Judge Ann Covington was appointed to the Western District Court of Appeals in 1987 and Judge Jean Hamilton was appointed to the Eastern District Court of Appeals in 1989. We were especially pleased when Judge Covington became the first female Missouri Supreme Court Judge in 1988.

I became a circuit judge in the city of St. Louis in 1989 and joined three other women and 27 men on the bench. Needless to say, the pregnancies of Judge Sherri Sullivan, ’81, and myself in 1990 were new situations never encountered before by our bench.
In December of 1995, I was appointed by Governor Carnahan to the Missouri Court of Appeals, Eastern District, and joined two women and eleven men on that bench. Now, in 2004, we have two women judges on the Supreme Court, four women judges on the Missouri Court of Appeals, Eastern District, and many circuit judges.

I am glad to say that things look a lot different then they did in the 1970s. I look around now and see almost fifty percent women students and more women faculty members in most law schools. I see many more women partners in law firms and women corporate attorneys. I see many more women judges at every level of the judiciary. I have also witnessed the expansion and acceptance of the Women Lawyers Association and the changes it has promoted.

I am proud of how far women in the profession have progressed. But I think it is important to remind everyone today that it has not always been this way. A lot of effort and dedication on behalf of many individuals throughout the years has laid this foundation and made our current progress possible. I believe it is critical to appreciate the past and to continue our efforts in the future.

August 1976 — called home and told my mother I was going to law school the following week. With her hand over the mouth piece, I heard her call to my dad. When he said, “What’s wrong?” she answered, “It’s Anna and she’s going through menopause.” Dad came on the phone and again asked what the matter was. I told him I was going to law school and he said, “How long will that take?” After I told him it would take three years, he replied, “But you’ll be an old woman when you get out.” I told him I’d be an old woman in three years whether I went to law school or not.

I was 44 years old at the time and the oldest woman in the class of 1979.
Needless to say, my parents, especially my dad, were very proud of me. He was a German immigrant who never had the chance to go to school. While he thought higher education was only for sons, he finally, in later years, agreed it was for daughters also. He eventually told all his friends that he had a lawyer who made house calls.
It was wonderful to see so many women going to law school during the years I was still in practice. Every year the number increased. The year I graduated, there were over 30% women enrolled.

After hearing too often during those three years that my age would be a liability in finding a job, I was hired by the St. Louis Division of Workers’ Compensation after my first interview. Being the only woman in the firm was difficult at first. Being the only woman practicing workmen’s compensation at the time was even worse. There wasn’t even a ladies’ room on the same floor. I was told to leave the lawyer’s conference room at the Division more than once, as there were no other women practicing there and the lawyers didn’t recognize a woman lawyer.

I’m still so happy that I did it. It wasn’t easy going to school full time with a husband, three children and a home to care for. But I would do it again. It has enriched my life and the lives of my family.

In 1975 I was the first Catholic sister to graduate from Saint Louis University School of Law. I had been teaching high school students in my community’s girls-only high school in rural Minnesota and came to St. Louis with the goal of experiencing an urban inner city and becoming a lawyer for the poor.

I had never been to St. Louis before I arrived for law school. The only lawyers I knew were parents of high school classmates and of high school students I had taught. I did not know any women lawyers. I did not know any Catholic sisters who were lawyers. No one in my family had a college degree. I was embarking on an adventure.
One of my first days at the law school, the dean, Richard Childress, took me under his wing and told me he was a personal friend of Cardinal Carberry and could get me access to the Cardinal if I had any problems while I was at the law school. I never felt it prudent to pursue the offer because I was uncertain about what the Cardinal might think about my presence at the law school. In that same introduction to the law school, Dean Childress warned me to avoid a certain law professor who did not want women in his classes. I followed the Dean’s advice and did not encounter any problems with the professors I had.

Saint Louis University School of Law was open to women students, but was feeling its way. We had a women students’ organization that met occasionally. Professors or other students who made sexist remarks were quickly told that such remarks were unacceptable. Academically, women students did well. I found nurture and support for my religious vocation in the Jesuit community and in the other religious individuals who were studying at the other schools at the University. Saint Louis University and its urban environment was a good place to begin my legal work.

The only woman on the faculty during my three years at the School was Eileen Searls, the law librarian, though I did have a visiting woman professor for a summer school class on Women and the Law. In my first job as a lawyer in Duluth, Minnesota, I found that there was only one other woman lawyer practicing in the county. Later, I worked with legal aid in the rural counties of west Tennessee and was often the only woman lawyer practicing in the counties we covered. Bar association meetings meant dealing with cultural change. I often heard “pardon my French,” when the men would forget there was a “lady” in the room.

I am now a legal aid lawyer at Southern Minnesota Regional Legal Services in St. Paul, Minnesota. Women are no longer a novelty as lawyers and judges. I have had cases in which all the participants — the judge, the lawyers and the parties — are all women. I have plenty of women colleagues. Even being a Catholic sister and a lawyer is no longer such a novelty; there are enough to have a national organization.
Both life in religious community and life in the law have changed significantly since I graduated from law school. Both face serious challenges. The needs of the poor are greater than ever. I am hopeful that the legal profession and religious life will continue to attract persons committed to justice for all. I still treasure my memories as a student at Saint Louis University School of Law and the dedicated persons I met there.

Doreen Dodson, ‘74
Partner, The Stolar Partnership

My father, who died when I was seven, was a Harvard lawyer. Growing up, that is all I wanted to be. Guidance counselors said law school was three more whole years after college and, for a while, talked me out of it (although my mother and stepfather were always encouraging). I taught school, had three children, and, in 1968-1970, decided that if I was going to change the world — my ambition in those pretty dark days — I would have to go to law school.

We moved to St. Louis from Boston in 1971 for my husband’s residency, with me ending up at Saint Louis University because of Professor Pete Salsich’s wonderful letter encouraging women to come and Washington University’s very discouraging letter (though, since that time, things have obviously changed at that university). Saint Louis University School of Law was wonderfully accommodating, allowing me to take half of my first year classes with one section and half with the other, so I could cram the classes into as short a time as possible and get home to my 1, 2 1/2, and 4-year-old children. I went full time, taking summers off with the children and struggling to find childcare (there was no real day care then). I was able to attend law school because of a half scholarship and a student loan and the continuing care of Pete Salsich and others. I went to law school to work at Legal Aid, but there were no openings when I got out. I had taken the Title VII clinic — it was new then — with Lisa Van Amburg, who was a year behind me, and went to work for Lou Gilden, Percy Green’s attorney in Green v. McDonnell Douglas, the landmark case. I had the opportunity to do the terrifying my first two years — try a federal court case, brief and argue in the Eighth Circuit, and so on. When a position opened up at Legal Aid, I applied and worked there for the next seven years until going to Saint Louis University to run the clinic and teach for three-and-a-half years.

Since then, as a partner at Stolar, I have continued to appreciate everything the School of Law did for me. I have had a marvelous opportunity, helped and encouraged every step of the way by the then-majority white guys. We were the first “big” class of women — there were about 25 of us out of about 225. Most of the women had children and were older, like me. I was 29 when I started. Many of the men had served three years in Viet Nam. It was a wonderful opportunity — I have had opportunities to draft legislation, get it passed, try cases, serve in leadership positions with The Missouri Bar, and so on. It is 30 years this year and, on most days, is still rewarding and fun.

My first job after graduating from law school was at the Missouri Court of Appeals in St. Louis, where I joined two other women in the all-woman Eastern District Pre-hearing Research Department. Mary Ann Weems, ’72, was one of the other woman attorneys with me in the department at the time.

I left the Court of Appeals in the summer of 1973 to join the Public Defender Office in the City of St. Louis. I was the first female attorney hired by that office.
After spending nine months defending cases in the Juvenile Court, I was transferred to the felony trial staff and became the first woman in the Missouri Public Defender system to carry a felony trial caseload. It is likely that I won my first felony jury trial because of my gender. Several of the jurors, after returning the not guilty verdict, commented on the youth of my client — he was 17 — and the gender and youth of his lawyer — I was young then, too. Their further comment: they hoped he never did it again (the defendant had been charged with burglary and was caught inside the burglarized premises).

During the early part of my Public Defender career, I was confronted by one judge and roundly criticized for failing to exclusively use my husband’s last name. Now, hyphenation is all the rage.

I have to think that Evelyn Baker, ‘73, and I tried the first female v. female felony trial in St. Louis in 1976. I can’t remember the details. I’m sure she has a better memory of it than I do. She won. I lost.

In 1978, I tried two cases in my last month of pregnancy: a two-day trial, October 16 and 17, and a five-day rape and kidnapping trial that ended on November 3, 1978. My first child was born on November 14, 1978. Several judges refused to let me try cases in their courtrooms at that time because of my “condition.”
Also, when arguing, while pregnant, before the Missouri Supreme Court, the Court commented on the change in my appearance (since my last argument before those so very honorable judges).

After maternity leave, I returned to the Public Defender Office as a Special Assist-ant Public Defender. A “Special” was, at the office, “part time.” Previously, Special Assistants were male attorneys who were leaving the Public Defender Office but continuing to handle criminal cases part time, while building up their private practices outside the Office. My outside practice consisted of changing diapers.
I continued as a Special Assistant with the St. Louis Public Defender Office, working two weeks a month, until 1989, trying in excess of 100 felony jury trials during my tenure. It was great fun.

I’d never met or seen a woman lawyer before I went to law school. When I was a senior in college, I knew some law students and was very fascinated by their accounts of the classes they were taking. I’d been a political science major, and law sounded so interesting to me that I took the LSAT. However, I’d always wanted to go into the Peace Corps, and the following week I took the Peace Corps exam. When I was accepted to the Peace Corps, I put off law school until after my Peace Corps term was up. I returned early from the Peace Corps due to illness, and Saint Louis University School of Law offered me a scholarship. I accepted the offer and never looked back. After my volunteer experience, I knew that having a professional education would make me more effective in whatever I chose to do.

I was surprised when I started law school and saw few other women at the School. There were so few of us that, even in my second and third years, all of the women in the School easily fit in Eileen Searls’ living room for her annual dinner party for the women students. We experienced some complaints that we were taking a place that should go to a man, or that practicing law was not suitable for a woman, but the law school administration and faculty were extremely supportive of having women in the School. I never met a professor I didn’t feel was 100% behind women studying law. And, I developed friendships among the men in the law school that continue to this day.

My first job was at Lewis, Rice. Although I wasn’t their first woman associate, I was the only woman lawyer in the office my first year there. There were no women mentors, but I had wonderful male mentors. Over the years I have found that, although I never had an older female mentor, I’ve learned a lot from the women attorneys who came along after me and have valued their example in how they approached the practice of law, participated in the community and balanced their careers and families.
All of us who started practicing in the early 70s were very conscious of being singled out as women, and we felt a pressure to probably overdo everything to ensure our acceptance. We often spoke longingly of being able to get lost in the crowd, and our measure of acceptance was the day when women wouldn’t feel the need to outperform.
One of the other drawbacks of being a woman in law school and at a law firm in the late 60s and early 70s was not having a lot of women friends who were having similar experiences. It was refreshing to go to the U.S. Attorney’s Office in 1980 and practice law with a number of women attorneys. We were in the same place in our personal lives as we were in our professional lives, and I really enjoyed that experience.
When one of the other women in the U.S. Attorney’s Office and I had our children, we proposed and worked out a job-sharing arrangement that let us have some days at home while our children were infants and toddlers. This was new to St. Louis. We both were committed to making the arrangement work out, so that job-sharing or part-time practice could one day be an option for more women attorneys. It was really important to me to have this time with my children when they were babies, and still keep my place in the profession. Now I think it’s common for women to have part-time or job sharing arrangements in both government and private offices.

Over the years, I have had the privilege of having some very rewarding leadership posts and appointments. What really helped me find my place when I was starting out as a minority in the legal profession was immediately getting involved and staying involved in bar association committees and other legal and community organizations that had missions to which I was committed.

Now that our daughter is in her first year of college, she finds herself the only girl in the jazz ensemble. Some of the boys have told her that women don’t really understand jazz and don’t belong in a jazz ensemble. When she told me about it, I shared with her some of my experiences and was happy to be able to predict that those perceptions can and will be overcome.

When I think back on my legal career, I remember most vividly the work I did initiating the first full-service domestic violence organization in Illinois. In the late 1970s, the Mercer County States Attorney’s Office began to question why so many battery victims wanted their cases dismissed after submitting their initial report, which was given with great conviction. Through research we found out about a phenomenon called the cycle of violence (previously unknown to us, but certainly in the literature). We found that “victims” (survivors) came to file their charges while they were angry, hurt and committed to bringing the perpetrator to a trial (one part of the cycle), but that when the arraignment or trial time came (usually several weeks later), they didn’t want to testify because they were in another part of the cycle called the “honeymoon period.” The “honeymoon period” was a time when the parties got back together, the victim was hearing lots of promises about change and love, and the victim, wanting to believe things could work out, refused to jeopardize the new relationship. This process caused our office a lot of frustration. We’d start cases only to find we didn’t have a witness who would testify. We began to see that folks in our county needed a lot of education, as we did too. This was a period of time when police dismissed a domestic battery as “something we don’t get involved with, because the police get hurt more often than not.”

Most of the helping professions were unsure of their new roles. We spent a year teaching police, ambulance workers, clergy, township commissioners, hospital personnel, sororities and service clubs — anyone we could. We gave presentations about every two weeks during that year. We raised money to fund an office, incorporated, got a charitable exemption and found volunteer safe houses (we used private housing and believed that mobility and secrecy were elements of safety). We trained advocates and built a hotline. We were the third domestic violence organization in Illinois, but ours was the most comprehensive and it still exists today. We only had three people to start with — our State’s Attorney, me, a part-timer (I had a private practice as well), and our secretary. I was the prime mover. Our effort was effective because we started with the official sanction of the Office of the State’s Attorney and we worked like the devil.

I’m glad we made the effort. Being useful is why we’re on this earth and I believe I did my part. My private practice was primarily probate and estate planning. I retired in 1997. Now I devote time to my other love — I’m a portrait painter, and am on the Board of our local Visual Arts Center. My experience as a lawyer helps me read faces and body language and the paintings are better for it. And, I like to think, that as a result of some of the work I did and continue to do for others, the people are better, too.