When Sarah Weddington finished her historic argument in Roe v. Wade before the U.S. Supreme Court, her adversary, Jay Floyd, an assistant Texas attorney general, rose and began with a one-liner.
“It’s an old joke, but when a man argues against two beautiful ladies like this, they are going to have the last word.” Floyd was referring to Weddington and her co-counsel Linda Coffee.
None of the seven (all male) justices laughed, and then-Chief Justice Warren Burger glared at Floyd, who quickly changed the subject.
But the moment was a sign nonetheless that female lawyers were a rarity at the time.
Weddington died in Austin on December 26 at 76 after “a series of health issues,” said Susan Hays, a friend and Weddington’s former University of Texas law student and now Democratic candidate for Texas Agriculture commissioner.
Hays commented that Weddington took on the landmark abortion case as her first legal case “because law firms would not hire women in the early ‘70s, leaving her with lots of time for good trouble.”
“I’ve been privileged over the past 50 years since I became a licensed attorney to work with many remarkably talented, even brilliant, lawyers, but Sarah was in a class by herself,” Austin lawyer Tommy Jacks said. ”She was extraordinary, a true pioneer. I’m honored to have had the opportunity to work with her as I was taking my own early steps along the path to becoming a trial lawyer.”
Chad Baruch, a longtime friend of Weddington and managing shareholder at Johnston Tobey Baruch in Dallas, also remarked that “she was an incredible young woman and was at the top of her class at UT, but she couldn’t get any interviews” before the abortion case.
Weddington was 26 when she argued the case.
Eventually, Hays said, Weddington was still able to break barriers along with other Texas women, becoming one of a few female members of the Texas House of Representatives at the time. “They came in just as Barbara Jordan left the Senate for Congress and Sissy Farenthold left, the only five women in the Legislature in a post-Sharpstown reform year. The world was changing for women.”
In her 1992 autobiography, Weddington wrote, “Texans have always been an independent breed, and in the sixties and seventies, many women began to reveal their own streak of independence. Ours is a state now known where ‘men are men, and women are elected officials.’ Texas did not become known for its women with can-do attitudes overnight. It took years of struggle and effort.”
Baruch, who coached high school and college basketball players, said Weddington often “took the time to speak to our players before a game in Austin. She said little about Roe, but a lot about life – and particularly the need to treat people with kindness even when they may not show you the same courtesy. Our players adored her.”
Not everyone worshiped Weddington, however. “Most people in the reproductive-rights movement continued to treat Sarah with the reverence and respect she deserved,” said Baruch. “But some didn’t, and I found that terribly disappointing.”
Joshua Prager, author of a new book, The Family Roe, was critical of Weddington for overshadowing the major role Linda Coffee played in the Roe v. Wade litigation. “There were two lawyers who represented Roe. One liked the spotlight, and the other ran from it.” Prager also wrote that Wellington treated Norma McCorvey, the “Jane Roe” in the case, as merely “the means to an end.”
Hays said Coffee was introverted, Sarah Weddington not so.
But, she said, “Sarah helped [Norma McCorvey] as much as she could.”
Congressman Lloyd Doggett, D-Austin, said in a statement that Wellington “shows the tremendous impact that one determined woman can make. With Sarah gone, it is more important than ever to ensure that the fundamental constitutional freedom for which she secured recognition from our highest court is not also gone.”