Education at heart of life’s work
in this life, you’ve got to educate yourself.”
Maybe the clincher was the Joy of his life, the girl he met in college at Louisville, the girl he’d marry and with whom he’d raise three kids, one an OB/GYN, one a lawyer, one both a lawyer and a First Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps.
Joy Maxberry, a transfer student from the University of Kentucky, had Dwayne Woodruff transfixed right from their initial encounters.
“My first year of college, I didn’t do very well,” Woodruff said. “I had like a 1.8 GPA. When I met Joy, I mean she was a student, a straight A student, and I was like, ‘Man this is a nice girl. If I’m gonna have a chance, I’d better start doin’ better at my classes.’ Then I just started trying to work my tail off to impress her and my family and the next thing you know I’m on the dean’s list.”
He was also starting on the football team, which came as news to Joy, who’d let it be known that she’d dated athletes at Kentucky and hadn’t’ found it appealing in the least.
“I remember during spring practice, she called and said, ‘Dwayne don’t you like me anymore? You’re never around.”
“I said, ‘Joy, I got practice.’”
“She said, ‘Practice? Practice for what?”
“I said, ‘I’m on the football team.’ I hadn’t told her, but she really hadn’t asked.”
During the first week of May 1979, at the Waldorf Astoria in New York, the Steelers called the name Dwayne Woodruff after 160 others were selected in the NFL draft. It was late in the sixth round.
“That was a hard Steelers team to make,” Art Rooney Jr. remembered this week. “It was still a Super Bowl team, but he turned out a lot better than some of our No. 1 picks. He’s a tremendous guy.”
Woodruff played in Super Bowl XIV, but wouldn’t get to another in a career that stretched to 1990. He was Steelers MVP in 1982, and led them in interceptions in five different seasons. He wasn’t tremendously forthcoming about his post-career plans, but in 1984, he began attending Duquesne Law School five nights a week.
“It wasn’t like I was holding’ that back from anybody,” he remembered. “They knew. I think most of ‘em, the players, the coaches. There were some that thought it would hold me back from being the best I could be at football.”
After a game in Cincinnati in which Woodruff had been beaten for a crucial touchdown, then coach Chuck Noll referred to him somewhat back-handedly as “the lawyer.” It was wildly out of character for Noll, who’d gone to law school himself briefly while playing for the Cleveland Browns 30 years earlier.
“I was married,” Woodruff said. “I had a couple kids. I was gonna have to have a job coming out of this. And I knew what I was supposed to be doin’ on the field. I’d already studied and had that down. I never said it, but I was thinking, ‘If I get hurt today, are you gonna take care of me and my family from now on?’ ”
Woody Widehofer, then Noll’s defensive coordinator, said he never even knew where Woodruff was spending his nights.
“And I was close to him!” Widenhofer said this week. “He never talked about that at all. I always liked him an awful lot. He was always a very productive guy and always very well prepared.”
But as a later round pick, Woodruff was not always very wealthy.
“My rookie year I made 30 grand. I made more in three weeks getting to and winning the Super Bowl than I had all year. My second year I made $35,000. I had to work.”
Not only that, he had to find a solution for his ailing father, then living in Cincinnati.
“So I would play here in the game on Sunday and then drive down to Cincinnati on Monday, because he was sick he was in the hospital,” Woodruff said. “At the V.A. hospital I kept telling’ him, ‘Dad, why don’t you come to Pittsburgh?’ But been’ a proud man, he would say, ‘I don’t want to be infringing on your family. You’ve got to live your life.’ ”
Eventually, his only son proving too persuasive, the father transferred to the V.A. hospital in Aspinwall. During that convalescence, the Woodruffs converted a bedroom to a handicapped accessible apartment, and that’s where the First Sergeant spent the final nine years of his life.
“My wife, it’s amazing what she did, cooking three meals a day for a quadriplegic, taking care of him,” Woodruff said. “We had help come in, in regard to some of the medical care, but at 5 o’clock, they’re gone.”
Within two years of his father’s passing, Woodruff won election to Allegheny County’s Court of Common Pleas, and won re-election 10 years later, in 2015, when he pulled in more votes than any of the seven other judges on the ballot. Most of his time on the bench has been spent in Family Court, where he’s won flowing praise from child advocacy organizations.
Not surprisingly, Woodruff hadn’t gone very deep into his career as a jurist before he started agitating for education — not just for kids, but for judges.
“Six years ago we had no judicial education here in Allegheny County,” Woodruff told a small gathering in a courtyard off Grant Street in his first campaign event. “I thought that was inappropriate. Recently our Supreme Court mandated it, but we’ve been doing it in Allegheny County for the past six years.”
Joy watched from the platform as her husband, backed by Steelers president Art Rooney II and a circle of former teammates including Mel Blount, began positioning himself for the next step in their lives, his voice competing with the carillon tones from the Courthouse bell tower.
“I remember him living with his mom in a trailer out by the edge of town,” his high school coach, Ron Bird, was telling me the other day. “He wasn’t given anything. He’s just a class individual.”
Woodruff knows he isn’t going to accomplish anything in this campaign that’s unprecedented. One of the Steelers’ early draft choices, Byron White, wound up on the United States Supreme Court after leaving the club to accept a Rhodes Scholarship. Nor will he be the first African American elected to the state Supreme Court, as Justice Robert N.C. Nix Jr. beat him to that 46 years ago and served nearly a quarter century.
“In Pennsylvania we have one of the oldest supreme courts in the country [since 1722],” Woodruff said. “To be the second African American in 300 years is not something we should be proud of in this day and age, but at the same time it’s something that should be celebrated because we’d be moving in the right direction. It would mean a lot not just to me and my family but to every other kid that’s out there, it would be like, ‘Hey, you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to if given the opportunity.’ America’s supposed to be the land of opportunity. Not just for black kids but for all minorities and for everyone else. Our Supreme Court should be reflective of all the constituents that it serves. There should be people at the table to bring up their causes, their desires, what the law means to them. To be that person would be somewhat overwhelming.”
Maybe, but not for long. The Woodruffs don’t get overwhelmed. They get educated. They get moving.
“I’m gonna be in every county; I understand there’s a lot of work to be done and I’m going to do that work,” said the judge. “I believe the Lord has put me in this position. He’s just opened doors for me. I understand we need to get people out to vote on both sides. My job, what it is now and what I hope it to be doesn’t depend on party lines. I have to rule on what’s best – what does the Constitution say? What’s best for Pennsylvania whether you’re a Republican or a Democrat or not affiliated to any party. I’m not really concerned about that. I’ve always been a hard worker. It’s going to take a yeoman’s job. That would be me.”
I was married. I had a couple kids. I was gonna have to have a job coming out of this. And I knew what I was supposed to be doin’ on the field. I’d already studied and had that down. I never said it, but I was thinking, ‘If I get hurt today, are you gonna take care of me and my family from now on?’ ” Dwayne Woodruff, on going to law school at night while playing for the Steelers through the 1980s.