Bailiff

The calendar said June, but Scott Garrity's tie screamed Christmas. Thinking it was inappropriate attire for his job as a bailiff at a the Baltimore District Court building on Patapsco Avenue, Garrity sought a way to change. He called his son to bring a replacement to restore decorum in the court. But then he spilled coffee, and he decided to drive home and change. As he returned to work, his car was hit head-on by a truck, sending him to the hospital for a month. He filed a workman's compensation claim with the state.

The calendar said June, but Scott Garrity's tie screamed Christmas. Thinking it was inappropriate attire for his job as a bailiff at a the Baltimore District Court building on Patapsco Avenue, Garrity sought a way to change. He called his son to bring a replacement to restore decorum in the court. But then he spilled coffee, and he decided to drive home and change. As he returned to work, his car was hit head-on by a truck, sending him to the hospital for a month. He filed a workman's compensation claim with the state.

Charles F. "Chuck" Fowler, a retired Maryland state trooper who later was a Carroll County bailiff and sheriff's deputy, died Saturday of cancer at his Westminster home. He was 72. Mr. Fowler was born in Baltimore and raised on Stonington Avenue. He later moved with his family to Westminster, where he graduated from Westminster High School in 1954. He served in the Marine Corps as a flight equipment officer and parachute rigger from 1954 to 1958, when he was discharged with the rank of sergeant.

Charles F. "Chuck" Fowler, a retired Maryland state trooper who later was a Carroll County bailiff and sheriff's deputy, died Saturday of cancer at his Westminster home. He was 72. Mr. Fowler was born in Baltimore and raised on Stonington Avenue. He later moved with his family to Westminster, where he graduated from Westminster High School in 1954. He served in the Marine Corps as a flight equipment officer and parachute rigger from 1954 to 1958, when he was discharged with the rank of sergeant.

Kenji Mizoguchi's masterly Sansho the Bailiff (playing Sunday at 2 p.m. at the Enoch Pratt Free Library's Wheeler Auditorium, 400 Cathedral St.) is an epic medieval fable with an ultra-modern sting. It unfolds in an 11th-century Japanese regime that rewards automatic obedience and efficiency, punishes individualism and altruism, and condones private slave camps that grind men and women to death. When the antihero, Zushio (Kisho Hanayagi), an escaped slave who becomes a governor, succeeds in freeing his former fellow captives, he loses everything except his self-respect.

It took a judge's cajoling to get Harford Circuit Court bailiff Charles Gladden to talk to a court observer about himself."I don't understand why anyone would want to read about me. All I did was what I had to do to make a living," said Mr. Gladden, who has no plans to retire from his third career.After all, he's only 90 years old and he took the job in 1983 when his longtime friend and neighbor, Judge Cypert O. Whitfill, asked for his help. When a friend needs a hand, a person just does what he can to help out, Mr. Gladden said.

A SUMMONS to jury duty in the old Anne Arundel County Courthouse for years could mean sitting on the floor, sometimes for hours, waiting for a judge's call while watching the ankles of clerks and lawyers.Or one was herded into a claustrophobic, windowless room where the air was either too hot, too cold, or, it seemed, barely there at all.But that is in the process of dramatic change. After five years of construction, the courthouse on Church Circle in Annapolis opened fully last week. It has an atrium, light, carpeting and, finally, a civilized space for jurors.

SEATTLE -- A federal appeals court will hear arguments today that the jury that awarded more than $5 billion in damages in the Exxon Valdez oil spill was tainted by a bailiff who pulled out his gun and joked about putting a holdout juror "out of her misery."The same juror, who attempted suicide three weeks after the verdict, alleged she was threatened by other jurors and by the bailiff, who was forced to resign from the U.S. Marshals Service after admitting he had offered his gun and a bullet to one of the jurors and had improperly socialized with the jury.

Bernice Galbreath was in the middle of a sassy moment, razzing her co-workers in Howard District Court, draping her fire engine-red blazer on her chair and hugging everyone from fellow bailiffs to clerks -- when she noticed the balloons floating high above her desk. "I guess I don't want to leave now," she said somberly as she read the good wishes from Judge Pamila J. Brown. Moments later, she was back in fine, smart-aleck form. "It's like this every morning with Bernice," courtroom clerk Kathy Hefner said as she watched Galbreath mingle and tease.

The four candidates in the Aberdeen Board of Commissioners race say the town must focus its attention on upgrading municipal services, from repairing streets to increasing salaries at the police department.The candidates, all registered Democrats, say there is not any one leading issue that must be addressed by the Aberdeen commissioners.But high on the list for the four candidates in the May 7 election is expansion of the town's economic base so it can afford to improve town services, such as streets, water and police services.

Ben Clyburn leaves his $7,000 Armani shoes at home when he goes begging the General Assembly on behalf of state courts. But the chief judge of Maryland's District Court won't say just where in the house he keeps those cap-toed alligator lace-ups. "I have one hidden in one part of the house and another in another part of the house," he said. "I had to put a special rider on my insurance policy." Clyburn didn't buy that fancy footwear on his judge's salary. He didn't buy it at all. He has a son in the fashion industry who interned with Armani while he was a design-school student at Parsons in New York.

THE THIRD MAN -- The Criterion Collection / $39.95. SANSHO THE BAILIFF --The Criterion Collection / $39.95. Definitive is a word that critics should delete from their vocabulary. But on Tuesday the Criterion Collection releases two great films in DVD editions that must be called definitive for their luster, excitement and completeness. And the movies are magnificent. Filmed on location in the partitioned Vienna of 1949, Carol Reed's The Third Man (with a script by Graham Greene) tells a thrillingly complex and volatile story of the pain and humor involved in the getting of wisdom, especially in the explosive middle of the 20th century.

Read all the Russians, and then reread them," goes a line in the novel The Namesake. "They will never fail you." That's how I feel about the great Japanese directors. They make other filmmakers come off as petty magicians or mere children. Akira Kurosawa may be the only Japanese master most Americans know. But Kenji Mizoguchi, in his prime, gave the filmmaker we today recognize as sensei a run for his yen. Kurosawa's most famous work, Seven Samurai, hit the man's-man's jugular vein. Mizoguchi could attack sweeping masculine subjects while paying equal attention to the women on his canvas.

Bernice Galbreath was in the middle of a sassy moment, razzing her co-workers in Howard District Court, draping her fire engine-red blazer on her chair and hugging everyone from fellow bailiffs to clerks -- when she noticed the balloons floating high above her desk. "I guess I don't want to leave now," she said somberly as she read the good wishes from Judge Pamila J. Brown. Moments later, she was back in fine, smart-aleck form. "It's like this every morning with Bernice," courtroom clerk Kathy Hefner said as she watched Galbreath mingle and tease.

Kenji Mizoguchi's masterly Sansho the Bailiff (playing Sunday at 2 p.m. at the Enoch Pratt Free Library's Wheeler Auditorium, 400 Cathedral St.) is an epic medieval fable with an ultra-modern sting. It unfolds in an 11th-century Japanese regime that rewards automatic obedience and efficiency, punishes individualism and altruism, and condones private slave camps that grind men and women to death. When the antihero, Zushio (Kisho Hanayagi), an escaped slave who becomes a governor, succeeds in freeing his former fellow captives, he loses everything except his self-respect.

The bailiff instructed everyone in Courtroom 1 to rise as he loudly announced the arrival of the Hon. Catherine Curran O'Malley. Then, her black robe fastened and her docket in hand, Baltimore's first lady strode onto the bench. No one seemed to have any idea who she was. The bailiff's enunciation wasn't the best, and two people had been dozing. "Oh my, is that who she is?" Marylynn Lynch said, laughing, when later told it was the mayor's wife who had extended a protective order against Lynch's husband.

A 6-foot, 375-pound Baltimore man accused of attacking a Harford County District Court bailiff and two sheriff's deputies Wednesday is being held without bond at the county detention center, pending a bail review hearing today, court officials said yesterday.The suspect, Marsell Dwayne Starks, 22, of the 4400 block of Franconia Drive in Northeast Baltimore is charged with assault with intent to murder Cpl. Tom Prevette, a deputy. He also is charged with assault and battery on bailiff Calvin Cason, Deputy Chris Parrish and Corporal Prevette, and with threatening Assistant State's Attorney Mimi Cooper.

Transcript, Trial of the Century, Day 257Bailiff: Hear ye, hear ye, the court is now in sess . . .Defense: Objection, your honor.Judge: To what?Defense: Nothing, your honor. We're just warming up.Prosecution: Your honor, the people would like to state that we also have no objections at this time.Defense: Objection, your honor. Every time the defense says something, the prosecution always feels it has to say something.Prosecution: The people do not.Defense: Do too.Prosecution: Do not.Defense: Do too.Defendant: OK, stop, I confess!

A SUMMONS to jury duty in the old Anne Arundel County Courthouse for years could mean sitting on the floor, sometimes for hours, waiting for a judge's call while watching the ankles of clerks and lawyers.Or one was herded into a claustrophobic, windowless room where the air was either too hot, too cold, or, it seemed, barely there at all.But that is in the process of dramatic change. After five years of construction, the courthouse on Church Circle in Annapolis opened fully last week. It has an atrium, light, carpeting and, finally, a civilized space for jurors.

Westminster's state police barracks, where resident troopers used to dine on road kill, will soon be torn down.Crowded and seedy, old Barracks G won't be missed by younger troopers when the new quarters open next month for the state's largest and busiest barracks. But old-timers who once boarded there chuckle at the memory of the 35-cent meals in the 1960s -- for which they were charged, even if they didn't eat them.They enjoy telling about the countless practical jokes that helped soothe tensions after 12-hour shifts on patrol.