Dear editor,

After many years living in Selma, a town that has been defined by its racial divide, I felt compelled to write a few lines about a man who truly meant a lot to me. I affectionately called him “Judge,” but to most of his friends he was simply Miller Childers.

When I moved back to Selma in 1971, Judge Childers hired me as the first African American to ever serve as a probation officer in Dallas County. I later learned that Rev. Claude C. Brown, who was pastor of my church, had highly recommended me for the job because the judge had consulted with him concerning this particular position. Apparently, the judge wanted to hire an African American man, who could better relate to the young black men being referred to the Juvenile Court.

I was to be somewhat of a role model to replace traditional white social workers of DPS — the Department of Pensions and Securities now known as DHR. I recall when I went for the interview I was not expecting to be hired because this was just three years after Dr. King’s assassination, and while some things had changed, there were other things socially that remained the same. I did not help myself very much because I sported a full beard and large afro that depicted me more as a militant than a conformist. But the judge was nothing like what I had expected, and evidently was not threatened by me as a person.

I recall that the judge was very patient with me as I went about learning the job and most of the time followed my recommendation. However, in those early years, we had two juveniles known as, Bobby and Boo-Boo, who were causing havoc in the community. They were committing petty thefts — nothing like the gang banging of today — and after several times being in court, the Judge overruled my recommendation and sent them to Mt. Meigs. I was devastated, and it took about two weeks before I could bring myself to talk with the judge again even though I knew he was right. I know Bobby turned out to be a model citizen, but Boo-Boo did later do some time in prison.

Also, I recall in the mid-70s, Judge Childers and I flew to San Francisco to attend a National Conference. Because of the tight budget, we agreed to room together on the campus of the University of San Francisco. After the first night being there we were at breakfast the next morning, and Judge Childers said, “Oh, Dan I forgot to tell you about my snoring.” We had a laugh over that, but for the next few nights I purchased some ear plugs for the duration of our trip in the San Francisco area.

Over the years, working together I very seldom saw the judge get really angry, and if he did it was not very revealing. However, I remember on one occasion, the judge ruled in favor of a man whose job was a driver of a drink truck. It was nearing lunch time when the case ended, and apparently the man decided to carry the judge some drinks to show his appreciation.

The judge didn’t take kindly to this gesture, and told the guy he would put him in jail if he ever did that again. When the judge returned to court, he was still angry, and told all of us what had happened. Now, I was not a lawyer at the time, and did not realize until later the gift could have been viewed as an ethics violation.

Back then, I was always talking with the judge about something, or asking him what he thought on various topics. I knew he was a religious man, and I even asked him about his thoughts on religion. He said, he considered himself a believer in God, but he was not a religious fanatic. On another occasion, I asked him how he felt about the death penalty, and I can’t remember his exact response, but it was much different than what I had expected.

I was always tempted to tell the judge about a standing joke about himself in the black community, but I could never bring myself to do it. It seems that a local barber had a child by a woman who the barber did not think was his child. Judge Childers ordered the barber to pay child support, and when the barber told the judge the child didn’t even look like him, Judge Childers said, “If you pay long enough the child will start to favor you.” I wanted to, but I could never muster up courage to tell the judge of this standing joke in the Black Community.

I think attorney Chestnut summed it up best in one of his articles when he wrote that Judge Childers was known to be a man of considerable wealth, but he was one of the most humble and unassuming men he had ever known.

I recall the judge saying that was one of the nicest things anyone had every said about him. The judge was a man I truly respected, and I am deeply sadden by his demise.

Danny W. Crenshaw

Selma