The Last <strong>of</strong> a Vanishing Breed Dexter Douglass leaves an indelible mark on <strong>Florida</strong> <strong>Law</strong> BY JAMES HELLEGAARD 28 U F L A W
There is a good lunch crowd early on a Monday afternoon at the Seineyard Restaurant south <strong>of</strong> Tallahassee. As the hostess leads the group to their table, heads turn up and one man nudges his wife, motioning her attention toward the four gentlemen, all <strong>of</strong> whom have been key players in <strong>Florida</strong>ʼs rich political history and fixtures in this area for more than a half century. Among them are retired appellate court Judge Tom Barkdull (JD 49), former <strong>Florida</strong> Sen. William Dean “Wig” Barrow (JD 53), former Senate President and Speaker <strong>of</strong> the House Mallory Horne (JD 50), and prominent local attorney Dexter Douglass (JD 55). As everyone tears into a delicious lunch <strong>of</strong> broiled and fried seafood, the men continue a discussion that began 20 minutes earlier when Barkdull stopped to pick up Douglass outside his <strong>of</strong>fice on Call Street. The talk skips easily from plans to go fishing to wild camping trips long past, and, <strong>of</strong> course, politics. Douglass, legendary for his intensely competitive nature both in the courtroom and in the political arena, spends much <strong>of</strong> his time listening to the stories being passed around, interjecting a comment here and there, and smiling and laughing <strong>of</strong>ten with the men he has known for much <strong>of</strong> his life. Barrow goes back the longest, meeting Douglass 65 years ago when they were young boys growing up in Panhandle town <strong>of</strong> Crestview. He recalls the time when they were 11 or 12 years old and challenged two local teenage girls to a game <strong>of</strong> strip poker. The boys lost badly, giving up as they were down to their underwear. The girls hadnʼt shed a stitch. “I believe they were cheatin,ʼ” Barrow says. Douglass entered law school in 1950 when <strong>Florida</strong> graduates were admitted to the Bar upon graduation, the “diploma privilege.” He interrupted his education to serve in the Korean War, returning to graduate in 1955. Douglass came to Tallahassee, launching his law practice literally one day after graduating from UF <strong>Law</strong>. He represented his first criminal defendant client for free. Fred Wallace was a black janitor who stood accused <strong>of</strong> stealing $400 by his employer, the Tallahassee Elks Lodge. Douglass won an acquittal. “For a number <strong>of</strong> years in my practice I might be in the Supreme Court today, in the small claims court tomorrow, and federal court next week,” he says. “So in the course <strong>of</strong> my practice, I guess Iʼve handled just about everything you could handle.” Though he now counts Douglass among his closest friends, Horne had the misfortune many years ago <strong>of</strong> getting to know his courtroom style as an adversary. Douglass, he says, is not a lawyer you want to see on the opposing side. “Heʼs very intense and focused to the point where he just makes everyone around him go crazy, especially if youʼre the opponent,” says Horne, who has known Douglass for more than 55 years. “He really develops a dislike for you during that experience. And, in disliking you, he takes pleasure in making your life miserable.” Horne calls Douglass a brilliant man with a retentive memory, as well as an avid reader with immense knowledge <strong>of</strong> <strong>Florida</strong> political history and legal history. “Heʼs just maddening.” Barrow says Douglass is “a man who was raised on the land and the soil,” recalling how the two <strong>of</strong> them made money in their younger days cutting paper wood with a crosscut saw. Douglassʼ intelligence and integrity allow him to stand out, he says. “I heard about him ... They said “Dexter Douglass from childhood on had the ability <strong>of</strong> total recall,” Barrow says. “Heʼs absolutely brilliant. The other thing that set Dexter apart was, he always told it like it is. He told you exactly like it is whether you liked it or not. Heʼs very good at expressing himself, and heʼs absolutely fearless. He is the last <strong>of</strong> a vanishing breed.” there’s this freshman boy who’s going somewhere.” REPRESENTING LEADERS At 77, Douglass can look back on a career that has left an indelible imprint on <strong>Florida</strong>, particularly on government. He served as general counsel to his old friend, the late Gov. <strong>Law</strong>ton Chiles, and represented U.S. Vice President Al Gore in his challenge to the 2000 presidential election in <strong>Florida</strong>. Perhaps his greatest legacy will be his service on the two <strong>Florida</strong> constitution-revision commissions, including being chairman in 1998 when the 37-member commission crafted 13 revisions to <strong>Florida</strong>ʼs governing document—12 <strong>of</strong> which were approved by voters. The results <strong>of</strong> that effort included restructuring the <strong>Florida</strong> Cabinet, merging several agencies into the <strong>Florida</strong> Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, ensuring voters could continue electing circuit judges until changed by the voters, and affirming <strong>Florida</strong>ʼs commitment to high-quality public schools. Douglass said the bi-partisan spirit and make-up <strong>of</strong> the commission—19 Democrats and 18 Republicans—had a significant impact on the commissionʼs success. “That turned into a great job, a lot <strong>of</strong> fun,” Douglass says. “We had a good group <strong>of</strong> people and got a lot done.” S U M M E R 2 0 0 7 29
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