Retiring judge tells of lessons learned
Mary Harper is the longest-serving woman on bench in Indiana
Porter Circuit Judge Mary Harper sorted through a thick file folder overflowing with thank you letters from past defendants. She pulled out a Christmas card from a woman repeatedly charged with public intoxication.
“I just celebrated 20 years of sobriety!” the woman wrote. “I am blessed.”
Taped inside the card is a medallion from Alcoholics Anonymous, marking 20 years of recovery.
“I’ve decided to pass my 20year chip onto you as a reminder of what began in your courtroom all those years ago!” the woman wrote. “Also to encourage you not to lose hope when you see the repeat offenders. Thanks for believing in me!”
Harper quietly smiled while reading it. “I hear from her every year,” she said.
Courtroom judges don’t typically see success stories about defendants unless they get approached in a grocery store or on the street with a question that could go either way: “Do you remember me?”
“In our courtroom, we typically see the defendants who either violate their probation, or who get rearrested, or who don’t complete their mental health treatment, or who can’t overcome their substance abuse problem,” Harper said. “So these thank you letters mean a lot to me.”
Harper, who’s been behind the bench for 35 years, is the longest serving female judge in Indiana, taking the bench at 34. She’s been a female trailblazer in the county’s judicial system. The county’s first female deputy prosecutor, county judge, superior court judge, and circuit court judge, among other accolades. She has presided over more than 130,000 court cases, civil and criminal, according to her records.
“I wasn’t great but I was al
ways grateful,” Harper, 69, told me inside her thirdfloor office at the Porter County Courthouse.
In August, Harper announced her retirement. Her last day behind the bench will be the last day of this year.
“Some defendants probably jumped up and down when they heard this news,” she joked. “I heard there was a big celebration at the county jail.”
The governor’s office will name her successor from a pool of four potential candidates who filed for the coveted position. Harper, a South Bend native who graduated from the Valparaiso University School of Law, has always ran her courtroom with a no-nonsense firmness. I’ve been witnessing this firsthand since we met 20 years ago.
“I tolerate zero chat,” Harper said. “It’s disrespectful to the court. And we’re trying to audio record everything. People ought to feel like they’re walking into a church when they walk into a courtroom.”
Harper tries to keep in mind the demographic of people who approach her bench.
“Life is screamed at most of these people,” she said. “Plus, I see only a part of the picture about their life.”
People are more judgmental than ever, although Harper isn’t allowed this luxury in her own courtroom. “I’m the person in the room who can’t cop an attitude,” she said. “As a judge, you have to fight this temptation.”
Still, she admits that her private personality trickles into her professional position.
“I think it does for every judge to some degree,” Harper said.
She’s been tempted to tell a few defendants to find a relationship with God. She never has.
If you want to provoke her wrath, badmouth the courts. She holds a reverence for our justice system despite its flaws and pitfalls.
Every Tuesday, her courtroom processes dozens of criminal hearings. It can be exhausting, mentally and physically. On the day I visited, a stack of sentencing files waited on her desk.
The cases never end, week after week, year after year, defendant after defendant. Her courtroom, like too many courtrooms in our country, mops up too many spills from the bottomless cocktail of mental illness, substance abuse, and untreated anger.
More out-of-town criminals are committing crimes in Porter County, according to her caseload. “Do they think we’re country rubes? I don’t know,” Harper said with a shrug.
One out-of-state defendant arrived with 100 arrests on his record. As a judge, Harper must weigh multiple factors – aggravating and mitigating – despite such an eye-catching criminal history. Facts of each case must dictate her judgment, coupled with the ever-fluid judicial system.
“When I first got here, we were sending people to prison left and right,” Harper recalled. “Not anymore.”
There’s an ongoing push in our state to keep defendants out of correctional facilities, instead rehabilitating them through problem-solving courtrooms and programs. In Porter County, this includes Indiana’s only juvenile drug treatment court (since 2008).
“It’s so rewarding,” Harper said. “Especially when it comes to kids with issues.”
This is how she smartly summed up this complex social ill: “The things kids do, and the things that are done to them.”
Harper oversees the county’s Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) program, which utilizes volunteers to provide a voice in court for the needs of abused and neglected children. The Porter County agency marks its 30-year anniversary Nov. 8 with a “CASAblanca Gala” fundraiser at The Market in Valparaiso. (For more info or tickets, visit https://www.fysb.org/casablanca-gala.)
Too many dysfunctional or disinterested parents have showed up in courtrooms to essentially tell a judge, “Fix my kid,” she said. To help escape from such dire situations in the workplace, Harper has found enjoyable outlets in her personal life. One of them is country music.
“I’m a junkie,” she said, showing off several photos of her with country music stars.
Another prized photo shows her with Sandra Day O’Connor, the retired U.S. Supreme Court Justice.
“I’ve been blessed every step of the way,” Harper said. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know why me.”
She struggled for nearly a year with her decision to retire. It wasn’t a clear-cut ruling.
“Someone younger and fresher is needed,” she said. “I’m just getting tired, beat-down tired.”
Harper’s last official day is Dec. 31, New Year’s Eve. For more than 20 years, she has been saving a gifted bottle of champagne for a special occasion.
“I didn’t know what I was saving it for,” she said. “I do now.”