06-09-2024 HOF - Flipbook - Page 31
Baltimore Sun Media | Sunday, June 9, 2024
WILLIAM H. MURPHY JR.
F
rom his 30th-floor law office in downtown Baltimore, William H. “Billy”
Murphy Jr. can almost see the neglected neighborhood he grew up
in, which is fitting: The nationally acclaimed attorney already keeps
Cherry Hill close to his heart.
It was there that Murphy, who is Black, began learning what it took
to excel despite the racism he faced, and became passionate about
helping others. His father, a lawyer and judge, chose Cherry Hill for
that reason, Murphy said.
“He was brilliant enough to understand that it would be better for us to be raised in the poor-
est Black community in Baltimore,” Murphy said, “where we could see how poverty starts, we
can see how low aim starts, we can see how choice suppression starts, we can see its origins, we
can see its effect.”
Among the first Black students to attend integrated schools in Baltimore, Murphy said he faced
discrimination from students, teachers and advisors. His parents, particularly his mother, insisted
he achieve academically — “They expected 100s, don’t
Name: William H. Murphy Jr.
Age: 81
Hometown: Baltimore
Current residence: Baltimore
Education: Baltimore Polytechnic
Institute, Massachusetts Institute
of Technology, University of
Maryland School of Law
Career highlights: Judge,
Baltimore Circuit Court; senior and
founding partner, Murphy, Falcon
& Murphy
Civic and charitable activities:
Represented numerous civil
rights organizations, including the
National Urban League, Greater
Baltimore Urban League, NAACP
and NAACP Baltimore branch, and
Congress of Racial Equality
Family: Partner Teresa Briscoe;
four children from a previous
marriage; eight grandchildren
bring me 95s,” as he put it — because they saw excellence
as the only way to overcome racism. Racism, Murphy
said, “and how my parents raised me to react to it shaped
whoIam.IcanthinkofnothingthatIhavedonewellthat
is not the product of my parents’ teaching.”
After a brief engineering career, Murphy shifted
gears and followed in his father’s footsteps, pursuing a
career in law. After graduating from the University of
Maryland School of Law, he clerked for the late Judge
Joseph F. Murphy Jr. (no relation).
“One of the things Judge Murphy taught me when
I clerked for him was, ‘Look, there’s no question you
have guts. There are two kinds of guts, dumb guts and
smart guts. Make sure you stick to the smart-guts category,’ ” he recalled.
Murphy represented African Americans being prosecuted for their roles in the
Civil Rights Movement.
Before long, he was being
hired by everyone from
groups of Eastern Shore
watermen to world-famous
boxing promoter Don King.
He claims a 91% success rate
in criminal trials.
When he got the case of
a Black man who in 1976
stormed into a temporary
City Hall in Baltimore and
opened fire, killing one
City Council member and
wounding two other officials,
Murphy hired students to
poll people about the case, he
said. Many believed the man
was mentally ill. Murphy
won a verdict of not guilty
by reason of insanity, and the
case strengthened his reputation for being able to charm
juries.
“I knew the power of
persuasion wasn’t enough
unless you had the power of
understanding the law better
than anybody else,” Murphy
said.
Murphy was elected
Circuit Court judge in 1980.
He left the bench three years
later to challenge incumbent
William Donald Schaefer,
focusing his campaign on the
idea of there being two Baltimores: one for the wealthy,
the other for the poor.
He later shifted his legal
practice to civil law, inspired
by his time as a judge. From
the bench, he watched
“average, mediocre” lawyers
arguing over lawsuits worth
millions of dollars.
He came to recognize
he was a more capable trial
attorney, though previously,
“I was afraid I was not qualified to do it. And that comes
from being Black,” Murphy
said.
Murphy rose to national
renown, securing nine-figure settlements from a credit
reporting agency, bank and
accounting firm. He also won
millions for neighbors whose
water was contaminated by
coal ash, patients who had
heartstentsimplantedunnecessarily and people who lived
in neglected housing.
He also handled police
brutality cases, representing
the family of Freddie Gray,
who died after suffering a
spinal injury in Baltimore
Police custody.
Murphy still practices
today, leading his firm at age
81, and striking a humble
tone when he talks about his
legacy.
“Just the truth,” he said. “I
want people to remember
me by what I’ve done and
continue to do.”
— Alex Mann
Baltimore Sun librarian and
researcher Paul McCardell
contributed to this article.
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