Thomas Wolfe was wrong. You can go home again and there is something special about the fact that Griffin Bell came home after all those years away. In many ways, it was just as though he never left. Although he owned several residences, I believe he considered Americus his home. In a way, he never left and after he returned, he made his mark in the most remarkable way. By his choice, his remains will reside in historic Oak Grove Cemetery in the city he loved.

Others will write of international accomplishments, national accolades and worldwide respect. I won’t attempt to out write the professionals. And besides, I did not know him in that way. I simply knew him as an incredible gentleman who possessed an uncanny wit mingled with an encyclopedic knowledge of history and the law. And I knew him as a community centered crusader who made a big difference in this town. I also knew him as a man who did not like to lose. In fact, I’ll go on record and say that I believe he would have been a superbly qualified choice to serve on the Supreme Court of the United States. He would have been a Chief Justice of historic proportions in any administration.

My first casual contact with Judge Bell was not professional in nature. When my daughter was in high school she was allowed to take a class that involved arguing a case in moot court. Her mother worked in Judge Bell’s section at King and Spalding at the time and casually asked if someone could help Meredith write the brief. Needless to say, Judge Bell got involved and, thankfully, Meredith won the case! I don’t even remember the issue, but years later after I moved to Americus I told the Judge that story. He remembered not only the brief and my daughter, but my ex-wife and the good job she had done for him and the firm. He was that kind of guy.

In the ensuing brief years of association in Americus our encounters were mostly social or business meetings having to do with the University and the golf course. A tip of the hat on the golf course or a gracious handshake at a party was our usual form of meeting and greeting. My out-of-town adult children were absolutely awed by his presence and he never tired of kidding Meredith about her “brief.” Last year, I embarrassed myself by serving the judge a Martini … right in his lap. As long as he was able, I never saw him allow a woman to enter his presence without standing.

On a couple of rare occasions, I chanced to disagree with him and at least twice I went to his house to talk about it. He, of course, was right and I was wrong. It just took a dollop of his wisdom to enlighten me. The visits were always pleasant and were, in fact, almost worth the agony of having to stand at his front door and ring his front door bell with my hat in my hand and my foot in my mouth. Each time I left knowing that we had both listened to reason and, in the end had reached a compromise that was usually skewed in the Judge’s favor. Our discussions were always solidified by mutual friendship and respect. I told him on one occasion that he “intimidated the hell out of me.” His reply was that I just needed to go along with his plans and I’d stay out of trouble. From that day forward, I tried to follow that advice.

In September 2008, in a unanimous show of love and affection for the Judge, Georgia Southwestern State University renamed and rededicated the old Americus Country Club as the Griffin Bell Golf and Conference Center. His dream was to create a niche program that would set GSW apart from other colleges in the state. As we await a decision from the PGA, I think we can all be proud of the job Judge Bell did for us.

In September of 2008, we also could all see that our days with him were numbered. Pancreatic cancer and dialysis take their toll on young men and the Judge was a month away from his 90th birthday. I vowed that day that I would let him spend his remaining time with his family and his close friends. I told myself that would be our last visit. I told myself that, but something just made me want to see him one more time.

So a couple of days before Christmas I went to see the judge. For the first time ever I went unannounced. I’m not much of a Christmas person, but I like distributing small gifts to special people in our lives. Nancy and Griffin Bell certainly qualify there. Of course I was warmly welcomed in and was delighted to see his grandson, Griffin III. As we sat in the den for almost two hours he was telling me about his dreams of projects to come. He wanted to get started on an archival museum for the Furlow Elementary School building — I think we ought to do that in his memory — and he wanted to do everything in his power to obtain final approval for the PGM program at GSW. Always the optimist, he just knew it would happen. I’m not betting against the judge in this or in any other case.

If you want to spend a few hours with Griffin B. Bell pick up a copy of “Footnotes to History,” the judge’s last book. Reading it not only makes the history come alive, it also helps the reader imagine the judge’s sonorous voice taking the words from the pages. I bought a copy at Christmas and Hulme Kinnebrew had it autographed for me. In it the judge wrote, “To Stick and Elise Miller, two dear friends.” What more can I say?

May the good Lord bless you and keep you, Judge Griffin B. Bell.



Boyce E. “Stick” Miller III lives and works in Americus.