Cat prints in the pie and other Marvin Ballin stories
When I left The Commercial Appeal in 2013 after more than two decades of covering courts, one of my favorite people — then and forever — was attorney Marvin Ballin. He told me, “I’m just sorry that you won’t be there to write my obituary.”
I hope this colorful, brilliant and kind man will settle for a guest column.
Marvin, who died Tuesday at age 87, was an endless source of news tips, tall tales, usually-inappropriate jokes and local history. If you ever saw a story with “according to longtime courthouse observers,” that was most often him.
There are enough Marvin Ballin stories to fill a law library. Here are just five.
When a client’s guilt or innocence hinged on how a jury viewed circumstantial evidence, Marvin would tell the story of a disobedient young boy who ate part of his mother’s fresh-baked apple pie before dinner.
To cover his guilt, the boy stuck the family cat’s paws in the pie, resulting in the cat being wrongly accused and being thrown in the river by the boy’s mother. Marvin then likened his client to the cat, and begged the jury not to throw his client in the river.
Once, when a prosecutor objected midway through Marvin’s tale, the judge replied: “Overruled. I want to hear the punch line.”
Juries always did, too.
While playing tennis one evening at his favorite club some years ago, his cherished two-door beige Lexus — the one with the license tag I SUE 4U — was stolen. His playing partners suggested the culprit most likely was on his long client list of criminal defendants.
Said Marvin: “The bet around the courthouse is 3 to 1 that I represent him or that I will represent him on this case. We’ll work out the conflict of interest later.”
A week or so later, his prized possession was pulled from a lake in Olive Branch, leaving him to mourn: “I haven’t seen it. I don’t want to see it.” The culprit never was identified.
When arriving at his law office one morning in 2004, Marvin found a smiling young attorney seated in his chair behind his desk. “You’ve been moved down the hall,” said the new attorney, Blake Ballin, his grandson.
That made three generations of Ballins — Marvin, Leslie and Blake — working in the practice.
At the courthouse at 201 Poplar, Marvin, then 73, was congratulated by a courtroom deputy who said he knew how proud he must be to have a grandson to whom he could pass the torch.
Marvin shook his head and replied: “Let the little SOB get his own torch. I’m still trying to make my own living.”
One morning in August 2012, Marvin was standing outside of Criminal Court Division 9 when a husky 18-year-old defendant whose bond was being revoked bolted from the courtroom. He hit the defendant with his right shoulder, sending Marvin into the wall but knocking the defendant off balance enough to allow deputies to recapture him.
A few days later Marvin could not lift his arm and had to have an MRI. He said it cost Medicare $3,200.
To his surprise, a grateful sheriff’s department later honored him with a certificate of appreciation which read:
“It is fitting that we honor this dedicated public servant and recognize Marvin Earl Ballin, attorney at law, for his gallant action, which aided in the apprehension of the escapee. Because of Counselor Ballin’s quick thinking and genuine respect for the judicial system, he should be commended for his selfless attempt.” He was moved by the honor. “It’s one of the nicest things that ever happened to me in my life,” Marvin said. “I’m as proud of receiving that as anything that has ever happened to me.”
Marvin practiced law for more than 50 years, but well before he retired the Tennessee Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers gave him its Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009. He was only the fifth recipient in the group’s 36year history.
He was 78, wearing hearing aids and moving a bit slower, but courtroom veterans knew you underestimated the white-haired master at your own peril.
Son Leslie likened him to Columbo, the seemingly absent-minded TV detective who always prevailed in the end. “You think Marvin doesn’t know what the heck is going on, but his mind is so far down the road ahead of you it’s not funny.”
Marvin represented more than 25,000 clients in his career while earning the respect and admiration of the entire criminal justice community.
“I cannot tell you what I have done in my practice that would be of such a nature to deserve any type of award,” he said. “I have proven Abraham Lincoln wrong. What I’ve done is I’ve fooled most of the people most of the time.”
It was another great Marvin Ballin quote, even if he was fooling no one.
Lawrence Buser is a research, development & special projects analyst with the Shelby County District Attorney’s Office.