Category: Civil Procedure

2

Eight Months of Iqbal: Part 2

In my earlier post, I argued that the Supreme Court’s approach to pleading in Twombly and Iqbal is not necessarily inconsistent with the pre-Twombly notice-pleading framework. On a correct reading, the admittedly-problematic plausibility inquiry is not a basis for disregarding allegations in a complaint. When a complaint provides non-conclusory allegations for each element of a claim for relief, those allegations must be accepted as true, without regard to their “plausibility.”

There is no doubt, however, that the lower federal courts are paying a lot of attention to Twombly and Iqbal. My article The Pleading Problem ranks Supreme Court decisions in terms of the frequency with which they have been cited by federal courts. The figures in my current draft were as of June 30, 2009 (they will be updated in the final version). But even then, Twombly was #17 all-time with over 14,000 citations by federal courts. As of today, its count is nearly 22,000, which will place it very comfortably in the top-10. Iqbal is just getting started, but over the last eight months it has been cited at a remarkable rate of over 600 decisions per month.

That said, an opinion’s citation frequency alone doesn’t tell you what courts are actually doing with that opinion. That’s the far more interesting question. There are certainly federal courts whose approaches to pleading after Iqbal reflect a much stricter standard. Jon Siegel identified a slip-and-fall case in an earlier Concurring Opinions post, Alexi Lahav has noted some others on the Mass Tort Litigation Blog, and I mention a few in my forthcoming article. In this post, I want to flag some cases where the lower federal courts are at least on the right track.

Read More

6

Eight Months of Iqbal

It’s hard to imagine a topic in civil procedure that has garnered more attention recently than pleading standards. The Supreme Court’s decision last Term in Ashcroft v. Iqbal (which embraced its controversial 2007 decision in Bell Atlantic v. Twombly) prompted an onslaught of commentary and critiques (including a couple of excellent Concurring Opinions posts by Jon Siegel here and here). Particularly troubling about these decisions is the idea that judges should subjectively determine — without hearing any evidence or testimony — whether the plaintiff’s claim is a “plausible” one. The Iqbal decision hit its 8-month anniversary this week, so I figured I’d take this opportunity to share a few thoughts on federal pleading standards in the post-Iqbal era. I’m hoping to follow up with posts about how the lower courts have been handling Twombly and Iqbal, and on the proposed legislation now pending in the House and Senate to overturn these decisions.

First off, I agree with many of Twombly‘s and Iqbal‘s critics. At best, these rulings appear to be result-oriented decisions designed to terminate at the earliest possible stage lawsuits that struck the majorities as undesirable. And inviting the “plausibility” concept into pleading doctrine was extremely problematic. It would be doubly unfortunate, however, if courts compound these troubling decisions by misreading them to drastically change federal pleading standards going forward. As I argue in my article The Pleading Problem, 62 Stanford L. Rev. ___ (forthcoming May 2010), a careful reading of these cases reveals an approach that is not necessarily inconsistent with the notice-pleading framework that most attorneys, judges, and professors alive today learned when they were in law school.

How is this possible? For starters, the majorities in Twombly and Iqbal left the core principles of the notice-pleading era in place. Twombly, in fact, explicitly endorsed Conley v. Gibson‘s command that the complaint must merely “give the defendant fair notice of what the plaintiff’s claim is and the grounds upon which it rests.” Although Twombly abrogated one phrase from Conley (that “a complaint should not be dismissed for failure to state a claim unless it appears beyond doubt that the plaintiff can prove no set of facts in support of his claim which would entitle him to relief”) this phrase was never taken as literally as the straw man that Twombly struck down. The true meaning of this phrase was simply that speculation about the provability of a claim is not a proper inquiry at the pleadings phase; provability is relevant only when it appears “beyond doubt” that the plaintiff cannot prove her claim. As to this point, Twombly is completely on board; Justice Souter wrote that “a well-pleaded complaint may proceed even if it strikes a savvy judge that actual proof of those facts is improbable, and that a recovery is very remote and unlikely.”

Read More

5

Justice Sotomayor, Civil Procedure, and the “Tradition” of Unanimous Debut Opinions

Yesterday brought the Supreme Court’s first decision in a case argued this Term. The Court in Mohawk Industries v. Carpenter writes:

“The question before us is whether disclosure orders adverse to the attorney-client privilege qualify for immediate appeal under the collateral order doctrine. Agreeing with the Court of Appeals, we hold that they do not. Postjudgment appeals, together with other review mechanisms, suffice to protect the rights of litigants and preserve the vitality of the attorney-client privilege.”

The issue of when interlocutory district court orders can be immediately appealed is one that’s particularly interesting to me (though perhaps not to many others outside the civil procedure world). From a historical perspective, Mohawk is significant as the first opinion authored by Justice Sotomayor. She is thus forever linked to civil procedure (as is Chief Justice Roberts, I might add, whose debut opinion involved the attorney-fee provision in 28 U.S.C. § 1447(c). See Martin v. Franklin Capital Corp., 542 U.S. 132 (2005)).

Justice Thomas’s concurring opinion in Mohawk has also attracted attention. Although he agrees with the Court’s result, Justice Thomas writes that Justice Sotomayor’s opinion “needlessly perpetuates a judicial policy that we for many years have criticized and struggled to limit.” He concludes:

“I would leave the value judgments the Court makes in its opinion to the rulemaking process, and in so doing take this opportunity to limit — effectively, predictably, and in a way we should have done long ago — the doctrine that, with a sweep of the Court’s pen, subordinated what the appellate jurisdiction statute says to what the Court thinks is a good idea.”

Some have argued that Justice Thomas’s opinion contravenes the Supreme Court’s “tradition” that a new Justice’s first opinion be a unanimous one. (See Eric Muller’s post at The Faculty Lounge: Clarence Thomas “Welcomes” Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court). The New York Times described the concurrence as “testy” and “a swipe at his new colleague.” On the other hand, Mohawk was unanimous in the sense that all nine Justices agreed in the result. And Justice Thomas did sign on to two whole paragraphs of Justice Sotomayor’s opinion (“I concur in the judgment and in Part II-C of the Court’s opinion”). What do folks think?

At the end of the day, maybe it doesn’t really matter. Justice Breyer did not enjoy the benefit of this so-called tradition. He prompted outright dissents from Justices Scalia and Thomas in his first opinion. See Allied Bruce Terminix v. Dobson, 513 U.S. 265 (1995). Then again, Justice Breyer went on to serve a remarkably long tenure as the Court’s most junior Justice. Could there be a “Curse of the Nonunanimous Debut Opinion”?

(Cross-posted at the Civil Procedure & Federal Courts Blog)

0

Commentary on The Federal Courts Jurisdiction and Venue Clarification Act of 2009 (H.R. 4113, now in Congress)

Now pending before Congress is H.R. 4113, a.k.a. The Federal Courts Jurisdiction and Venue Clarification Act. The Act could certainly use a workup by the House Acronym Committee (maybe I have soccer on the brain after Friday’s World Cup draw, but “FC JAVCA” sounds like it could be a mid-tier European football club). All kidding aside, the Act makes a number of commendable improvements, many of which were recommended by a recent project of the American Law Institute (ALI).

For more information on the bill, see the Library of Congress’s website here. The full text of the bill is available here(.xml format) or here (.pdf format). Earlier coverage of the bill is here. Among other things, the Act would amend Title 28 with respect to removal and remand procedure, venue, and actions involving permanent resident aliens and foreign corporations and insurers. This post summarizes (and flags some potential concerns with) the Act’s provisions dealing with the amount in controversy required for diversity jurisdiction. Under current law, the amount in controversy must exceed $75,000.

First, the Act would index the amount-in-controversy threshold to automatically adjust for inflation. [Act, § 103.] Beginning in 2011, the $75,000 threshold would be adjusted every five years according to the percentage change in the Consumer Price Index. If you’re worried about the amount in controversy becoming $83,516.44, have no fear; the amount will be rounded to the nearest multiple of $5,000.

Second, the Act has a number of provisions dealing with a plaintiff’s ability to preclude diversity jurisdiction by declaring that it will neither seek nor accept a judgment in excess of the amount in controversy threshold. [Act, § 104.] Making such a declaration in state court will prevent removal to federal court “as long as the plaintiff abides by the declaration and the declaration is binding under the laws and practice of the State.” If the plaintiff fails to abide by this declaration, the case can be removed within 30 days after the defendant receives “an amended pleading, motion, order or other paper from which it may first be ascertained” that the plaintiff seeks or is willing to accept a judgment in excess of the threshold for diversity jurisdiction. The Act also provides that a removed case may be remanded to state court if the plaintiff makes a similar declaration in federal court within 30 days of removal. In that situation, “the district court shall remand the action to State court unless equitable circumstances warrant retaining the case.”

One possible concern with these provisions is that they do not allow “re-removal” if the plaintiff who makes the declaration in federal court then reneges on the declaration after getting back to state court. The new language that would allow removal after a plaintiff reneges applies only “[i]f the plaintiff has filed such a declaration in state court but thereafter fails to abide by that declaration.” (emphasis added)

Third, the Act codifies the general rule that “the sum demanded in good faith in the initial pleading [the state court complaint] shall be deemed to be the amount in controversy.” [Act, § 105(b), to be codified at 28 U.S.C. § 1446(b)(4).] It then provides that the notice of removal may assert the amount in controversy required for diversity jurisdiction where either (a) nonmonetary relief is sought, or (b) “State practice either does not permit demand for a specific sum or permits recovery of damages in excess of the amount demanded.” The defendant must then establish to the federal court by the preponderance of the evidence that the amount-in-controversy threshold is met.

One concern with this provision is that it does not authorize the notice of removal to assert the amount in controversy if state practice does permit demand for a specific sum but the initial pleading just fails to make one. Arguably the notice of removal should be able to assert the amount in controversy in that situation as well. 

I’m hoping to blog on other provisions in the Act in the near future. In the meantime, feel free to use the comments to share your own thoughts.

(Cross-posted on the Civil Procedure & Federal Courts Blog)

0

14 Penn Plaza v. Pyett and the Fairness in Arbitration Act

Thanks to Dan, Sarah and all for inviting me to continue as a guest for awhile. They did not even require me to promise not to say any more about Ricci!

I finished my Labor Law class with 14 Penn Plaza v. Pyett. My position is that the case represented dysfunctional litigation in a number of ways. First, and foremost, Justice Thomas’ opinion appears to fail to understand anything about how collective bargaining arbitration works. The provision pouring statutory discrimination claims into arbitration is the basis for his conclusion that this “requires union members to submit all claims of employment discrimination claims to binding arbitration.”  Collective bargaining agreements, including arbitration provisions, have only two parties to them – the union and the employer. The employees covered by the collective bargaining agreement are decidedly not parties to the agreement and nothing in the provision Justice Thomas quotes does anything to make them parties to the collective bargaining agreement, the arbitration agreement, or the particular grievance of any individual employee. One wonders if any Justice or any clerk of any Justice has actually taken labor law. A problem was that the union was not a party to the case and did not weigh in until it filed an amicus brief at the Supreme Court.

 Second, the fig leaf of “consent” or voluntary agreement to arbitrate employment claims in individual employment contracts that are contracts of adhesion has been ripped away in 14 Penn Plaza. There is simply no basis for finding that the employees whose discrimination claims now can only go to arbitration ever agreed to that. So, arbitration has been deprived of any claims to being voluntary as to the employees whose claims are being determined. Finding that a union can waive the statutory right of employees simply does not make the resultant arbitration voluntary as to the employee.

 Third, once the union withdrew the grievance from arbitration because it claimed that it had agreed to the change that disadvantaged the employees, the employees should have filed a discrimination claim against the union in addition to the claim it had filed against the employer. With the two parties to the arbitration agreement now both respondents to discrimination claims, it seems hard to conclude that the arbitration process, controlled by these two parties, could be found to be fair. The conflict between the employees on one side and the employer and union on the other should have allowed the employees to seek a neutral forum in the courts.

Fourth, the opinion references the union’s duty of fair representation but the standards of proof for that are so high that a straight discrimination claim might work better for the employees. The employees should, however, have filed duty of fair representation charges with the NLRB on the chance that it would have pursued their claims on their behalf. In sum, it is my position that 14 Penn Plaza is another, in a long line of cases that is transforming voluntary arbitration into a private justice system that is inconsistent with the idea that we follow a rule of law.

The students raised some interesting points that did not necessarily agree with my position. Read More

0

Congress Fixes Mistake!

What should courts do when the “plain language” of a legal text would lead to troubling, unanticipated consequences? Should they wait for the text to be formally amended? Or should they literally take the law into their own hands and fix the problem themselves? I blogged earlier about the possibility that language in a 2005 amendment to the Texas Constitution could invalidate all Texas marriages (including my own!). I have an obvious personal stake in that particular issue, but I’m interested more generally in such problematic language, particularly in the context of civil procedure and federal jurisdiction. Today officially lays to rest a classic example of that — the 2005 Class Action Fairness Act’s 7-day “deadline” for appealing certain jurisdictional rulings.

The original language in 28 U.S.C. § 1453(c)(1) required that such appeals be brought “not less than 7 days” after the district court’s order. Although the goal of this provision was to set a 7-day deadline, the enacted text did precisely the opposite — it imposed a 7-day waiting period and set no outer deadline. What’s the appropriate judicial response? Rewrite the statute by interpreting “less” to mean “more,” thereby imposing a 7-day deadline? Or adhere to the literal text, thereby imposing a 7-day waiting period with no outer deadline? For litigants, the only safe move was to appeal exactly 7 days after the district court’s order, which would make the appeal timely under either a not-more-than-7-days or a not-less-than-7-days standard.

I wrote about this problem in my article “Less” is “More”? Textualism, Intentionalism, and a Better Solution to the Class Action Fairness Act’s Appellate Deadline Riddle, 92 Iowa L. Rev. 1183 (2007). Back then, every circuit to consider the question rewrote the statute and imposed the 7-day deadline, although six Ninth Circuit judges disagreed in a vigorous dissent from a denial of en banc review. My argument was that courts should adhere to the statute’s plain language (which would impose no outer deadline on CAFA appeals) and instead rely on Fed. R. App. P. 4’s default deadline of 30 days. The Seventh Circuit eventually adopted that approach, see Spivey v. Vertrue, 528 F.3d 982 (7th Cir. 2008), creating a circuit split that would force either Congress or the Supreme Court to resolve the issue.

Congress responded and, effective today, the problem is solved. Legislation enacted earlier this year provides: “effective Dec. 1, 2009, subsec. (c)(1) is amended by striking ‘not less than 7 days’ and inserting ‘not more than 10 days.'” Public Law 111-16, § 6(2). This is a commendable solution, but my sense is that such congressional initiative is the exception rather than the rule. A counterexample that civil procedure folks know all too well is the saga of the supplemental jurisdiction statute, for which uncertainty lingered from its 1990 enactment until — and perhaps beyond — the Supreme Court’s 2005 decision in Exxon Mobil v. Allapattah, now a staple in civil procedure casebooks. (If readers are interested, see my article on that decision, Sausage-Making, Pigs’ Ears, and Congressional Expansions of Federal Jurisdiction: Exxon Mobil v. Allapattah and its Lessons for the Class Action Fairness Act, 81 Washington L. Rev. 279 (2006).)

7

Is Ricci a Significant Procedural Case?

Much of the buzz about Ricci v. DeStefano before it was decided was that it raised an important equal protection question of the validity of Title VII’s disparate impact definition of discrimination because it requires employers to know and act on the racial consequences of its use of  employment practices, such as employment tests. The Supreme Court, in a 5-4 decision, did not reach the question, though Justice Scalia, in his concurring opinion, said that the day is coming when the Court will have to address the question. In that regard, Ricci may be the Title VII analog to Northwester Austin Municipal Utility District No. One (NAMUDO) v. Holder. In NAMUDO, the Court avoided the question of the constitutionality of §5 of the Voting Rights Act by its interpretation of the statute. Richard Primus has an article coming out in the Michigan Law Review, The Future of Disparate Impact, http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1495870, that discusses that issue. But, even without that issue, Ricci presents some significant questions. I will start with its procedural aspects. They will likely be worked out in Briscoe v. City of New Haven, a disparate impact case brought by an African-American testtaker who has been disadvantaged because New Haven has now used the test scores at issue in Ricci.

Proceduralists might see Ricci as of interest for two reasons. The first is that the Supreme Court reversed summary judgment for the defendants but, rather than remanding, the Court went ahead to grant summary judgment for the plaintiffs. How often does that happen? With 93 pages of  slip opinions of which about two-thirds involved recitation of facts and the application of law to those facts, one would think at least on material issue of fact could be found. Is it that the Court lacked trust in the lower courts to ever get it right?

Some support for my hunch is based on the second procedural issue raised by a somewhat inscrutable sentence in the second last paragraph of Justice Kennedy’s opinion for the Court:

“If, after it certifies the test results, the City faces a disparate-impact suit, then in light of our   holding today it should be clear that the City would avoid disparate-impact liability based on the strong basis in evidence that, had it not certified the results, it would have been subject to disparate-treatment liability.”

Why this is inscrutable is that in Ricci, white plaintiffs ultimately prevailed by claiming they were victims of intentional disparate treatment when the defendant decided not to use the results of a promotion test. The City’s defense was that using the test scores would cause a disparate impact on minority testtakers. But the African-American, Hispanic and white testtakers who were benefited by the City’s decision not to use the test scores were not party to Ricci. How can their rights have been decided in that case?

Read More

6

The Employer’s Strategy in Gross v. FBL Financials

Last Term in Gross v. FBL Financials, a 5-4 decision written by Justice Thomas, the Court decided that a plaintiff bringing a claim of individual disparate treatment age discrimination — an ADEA action — must prove, by a preponderance of evidence, that age was the “but-for” cause of defendant’s treatment of plaintiff. Thus, unlike Title VII, the burden of persuasion never shifts on the issue of linking what happened to plaintiff— “an adverse employment action” — to defendant’s intent to discriminate, even if plaintiff had produced evidence that age was “a motivating factor” of the defendant. This is an important discrimination case since the Court appears to be adding age cases to discrimination cases under the ADA (before its recent amendments) that deserve lesser enforcement than the Title VII claims of race, color, sex, national origin and religion discrimination. It will have ramifications in other areas of discrimination law, including retaliation cases and cases brought under 42 U.S.C. 1981. It even raises the question whether the iconic McDonnell Douglas v. Green approach to proving defendant’s intent to discriminate applies in age act cases. (So far, the two circuits deciding that question continue to apply McDonnell Douglas).

For those not interested in employment discrimination law, of which I suppose there may be a few, this may not seem a startling decision. But for those attuned to discrimination litigation and to Court watchers generally, the decision came as a quite a surprise. Most surprising is that the Court answered a question not presented to it for decision. In most situations when the Court determines that some question other than the one presented has come to the fore, certiorari is dismissed as improvidently granted or the case is remanded to the lower courts to decide this new question.

The question originally presented in Gross was: “Must a plaintiff present direct evidence of discrimination in order to obtain a mixed-motive instruction in a non-Title VII discrimination case?” What this referred to was Title VII authority that allowed burden shifting to the defendant of the issue of linkage between defendant’s intent to discriminate – the employer’s motivation for its action —  and plaintiff’s harm and how that burden shifting might apply in age discrimination cases. Long story short, the Justice O’Connor’s concurring opinion back in a 1989 Title VII sex discrimination case, Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins, came to be viewed by the lower courts as the holding since her opinion was seen as the narrowest basis for the decision in which there was no majority. She required plaintiff to introduce “direct” evidence of discrimination in order to rely on a “substantial factor” test of linkage that shifted the burden of persuasion to the defendant to prove a same-decision defense. The 1991 Civil Rights Act then amended Title VII so that plaintiffs established liability by showing defendant’s intent to discriminate was only “a motivating factor,” with the burden then shifting to the defendant to prove the same-decision defense to full remedies, not to liability. The new provisions did not mention “direct” evidence and so Title VII was interpreted in Desert Palace v. Costa as not requiring any “direct” evidence threshold to the use of the new “a motivating factor” standard.

The question presented in Gross was how that all worked out in an age discrimination case. Up until the employer filed its reply brief, the case proceeded on the assumption that burden shifting applied, with the question being whether or not the plaintiff needed to point out “direct” evidence to take advantage of that shift in the burden of persuasion. Raised for the first time in its reply brief to plaintiff’s brief on the substance, the employer argued that a prior question needed to be answered before that question could be decided: Was burden shifting ever available in an ADEA case?  The Court agreed that it should answer that question instead of the one presented and answered it in favor of defendant. Thus, the original question presented was mooted out.

For Court watchers, the more interesting question is why the employer decided so late in the game to try to shift the focus of the case.

Read More

6

A Civil Procedure Curriculum Challenge

I read with great interest Jon Siegel’s recent post on curricular reform and the thirty or so comments it generated. I don’t really disagree with his main point that law school is mostly about “acquiring the ability to acquire skills and knowledge.” But at the same time, I don’t spend that much time on personal jurisdiction and Erie in my civil procedure class and wanted to use this post to explain why.

I started teaching civil procedure during my time at Brooklyn Law School where civil procedure was a two semester five credit course. When I got to Loyola, civ pro was a two semester six credit course. Two years ago we moved to a one semester four credit course as part of a general reform of the first year curriculum. So I have now taught the course in just about every possible permutation.

I currently spend the first 2/3 of the course on the litigation process and about the remaining 1/3 on personal jurisdiction and Erie. I am probably in the minority on this and it’s hard to find a casebook that is set up the way I prefer.

I do it this way because of my belief that only a detailed study of the litigation process reflected in the FRCP can convey a deep understanding of the American civil justice system and its strengths and weaknesses. For better or worse, we have a system that (until very recently) has deemphasized pleadings and uses discovery to lay the groundwork for settlement or summary judgment for those cases that make it into the system and is increasing reliant on ADR for those cases that don’t. Of late, the Supreme Court has seemingly raised the bar on pleadings in Twombley and Iqbal and reinvigorated motions to dismiss as a more meaningful part of the litigation process. One cannot understand what we do, how we do it, why the rest of the world thinks we are crazy, what is changing, and what needs to be changed without a large amount of class time, which of necessity limits the amount of time devoted to personal jurisdiction and Erie.

All this is driven by my view of in most litigation the law is easy, but the facts are hard. Discovery is where the facts come in. If you don’t understand how parties marshal, present, and protect facts from their files, from the real world, and from the other side through discovery then the students leave civ pro (and possibly law school) without any real clue how our civil justice system works. Read More

1

The Civil Procedure, Civil Rights, Class Action Connection to the Chicago Olympic Bid

By this point, everyone probably knows that Chicago finished last among the finalists for the 2016 Summer Olympic and Paralympic Games. Truth be told, I am personally glad that Rio got the games, but civic pride had me hoping that we would come in second, rather than last. I certainly knew a few people who really wanted the games for our fair city, but most actual Chicagoans I talked to were neutral to negative about the whole enterprise, but quite fascinated by the possibility of being able to rent out their homes to tourists for exorbitant sums.

A less known aspect of the now failed bid was the connection between the bid and one of the landmark cases taught in most civil procedure, civil procedure, and complex litigation courses. A temporary 80,000 seat stadium was planned for the opening and closing ceremonies and certain track and field events including the finish of the marathon. The stadium was to have been constructed in Washington Park, a south side neighborhood just west of Hyde Park and the University of Chicago campus. The park would have been the site of massive improvements and some sort of smaller permanent facility would have survived the end of the Games.

The residential portion of Washington Park immediately to the south of the actual park was the site of one of the many ugly incidents in the early part of the 20th century as many Chicago neighborhoods sought to maintain segregated communities in the face of the tremendous expansion of the African-American population that came to Chicago seeking work. At one time, the Washington Park neighborhood was all white and subject to a racially restrictive covenant. In the depths of the depression, a white home owner sold to a middle class black family. The family endured harassment beyond description as angry mobs howled outside their home and the family faced daily threats and numerous incidents of vandalism and violence.

On the legal front, there were also attempts to enforce the racially restrictive covenants that were still lawful in the days before the Supreme Court’s 1948 decision in Shelley v. Kramer. But first, the white land owners had to establish that the covenant was enforceable as a matter of contract law. The covenant was to take effect only when 95% of the owners had executed it. An action in the Illinois courts held that the requisite percentage of owners had signed the covenant. Then certain white home owners sought to enforce the covenant against the new black owner arguing that he was bound by the results of the earlier state court litigation.

By now, you may have figured out that I am describing the landmark case of Hansberry v. Lee. In the United States Supreme Court, Justice Stone wrote on behalf of a unanimous court (three Justice concurring in the result). As my civ pro students can tell you, the case holds that Mr. Hansberry could not be enjoined from purchasing or living in his home as a result of the earlier litigation, since he had been neither a party in the earlier case nor adequately represented by either side in what had amounted to a class action under Illinois law. The case matters today for all manner of principles we explore at length in civil procedure, class action, and mass litigation courses, but it also stands as an important early landmark on the way to the later civil rights rulings of Shelley v. Kramer and eventually Brown v. Board of Education.

To better understand the personal issues at stake for the Hansberrys throughout this ordeal, we have the moving play A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry, who was a young child when her family moved into their new neighborhood. For a detailed and sensitive history of the underlying facts and the convoluted sets of litigation leading up to Justice Stone’s opinion, we are also fortunate to have Jay Tidmarsh’s chapter on the case in Civil Procedure Stories.

I would like to think that the Olympic Games would have done some good for Washington Park and all the surrounding neighborhoods that Mr. Hansberry and others suffered so greatly to integrate, but as a somewhat cynical Chicagoan I suspect that the burdens would have shared by the public at large and the benefits enjoyed by a privileged few. But if you’re ever in town, I hope you will consider visiting Washington Park and seeing where an important part of legal history took place and where a very different type of sporting history was nearly made this past week. If you get there in the next two weeks, there is even a pretty good circus on the site of where the Olympic Stadium would have been.