
Vol. 75, No. 7, July 
2002
Remembering Howard Eisenberg
Of Habeas Law and Pink Ballerinas
Howard Eisenberg, dean of Marquette University Law School, and 
Wisconsin's Atticus Finch, has been described as brilliant, blunt, 
funny, dedicated, a role model, a voice for justice, a practical joker, 
or even crusty. A memorial process, begun at his untimely death at age 
55 on June 4, reveals Eisenberg's extraordinary nature and impact on 
Wisconsin's justice system and the surrounding community.
 
Sidebars:
by Colleen D. Ball
When I turn on my computer, I catch myself expecting new emails from 
Howard Eisenberg with advice on a project I undertook at his 
encouragement. Many others must feel the same way, judging from the 
countless people he has assisted and from the torrent of commiseration 
and tributes occasioned by his death. "I cannot remember anything 
similar for a Wisconsin person - not even for a statewide elected 
official," said Shirley Abrahamson, Chief Justice of the Wisconsin 
Supreme Court. "Why? I think because we instinctively and intuitively 
know that he was Wisconsin's Atticus Finch of To Kill A 
Mockingbird. That's the lawyer we all went to law school to become. 
He did it."
This is no exaggeration. In the weeks since his death, heartfelt 
emails have flooded the State Bar of Wisconsin from lawyers around the 
state. They describe a man who urged them to go to law school, who 
mentored them, who inspired them to reach out to the poor and, more 
importantly, showed them how to do it. As colleagues reflect on his 
academic and administrative activities, his pro bono cases, his bar 
association work, and his many other professional commitments, they 
frequently marvel at his devotion to the legal system's lepers as well. 
Whether they describe him as brilliant, blunt, funny, dedicated, a role 
model, a voice for justice, a practical joker, or even crusty, they are 
contributing to a memorial process that has begun to reveal the 
extraordinary nature and scale of Howard B. Eisenberg's impact on 
Wisconsin's justice system and the surrounding community.
Dream Dean
Eisenberg, a Chicago native, graduated from the U.W. Law School and 
clerked for Wisconsin Supreme Court Justice Horace Wilkie. He served as 
Wisconsin's chief state public defender and wrote the state's public 
defender statute. He also worked as the executive director of the 
National Aid and Defender Association in Washington, D.C., and professor 
and director of clinical education at Southern Illinois University. In 
1991, he became dean and professor of law at the University of Arkansas 
at Little Rock.
While being dean no doubt had its stresses, Eisenberg could combine 
humor and his expertise in habeas law to relieve them. He wrote 
summaries of Eighth Circuit cases for a Little Rock legal publication, 
the Daily Record. Sometimes he slipped in phony ones. He 
reported the case of Sol Schlamazel, who was convicted of killing his 
wife, Selma, on the basis of bone-like fragments found in his 
Weber® grill.1 Selma later 
appeared and obtained a divorce on the grounds that her husband had 
committed a felony (her murder). Schlamazel appealed his conviction but 
lost. Although his wife was alive, that fact was dehors the 
record. His state habeas petition failed because it had not been filed 
within two years of conviction, so he sought relief in federal court. On 
appeal to the Eighth Circuit he lost again because, according to Judge 
Lauren Order, he could not raise a claim of innocence in a habeas 
action. Several lawyers thought the case was real; one sent it to the 
ABA Journal. Asked whether he was gaining a reputation as a 
legal humorist, Eisenberg said no - he was more likely viewed as someone 
"who has lost all sanity after being dean for two years."2
Sane or not, he hoped to return to Wisconsin, his wife's home state 
and one he loved. The opportunity arose in 1995 when, in Justice 
Abrahamson's opinion, "Marquette found a gem of a dean." Eisenberg, a 
self-described "nice Jewish boy,"3 devoted 
himself to the Jesuit law school. Shirley Weigand, associate dean and 
professor of law, witnessed his long days filled with meetings, briefs, 
visitors, and letters. He often told her that at the end of the day, he 
felt like he had run a marathon. "Yet he'd be at his desk at 7:30 the 
next morning hard at work," she said. "He always put the best interest 
of the law school first."
In doing so, he transformed an institution. "By force of his hard 
work with the faculty, students, and central administration, his 
commitment to pro bono work, and his commitment to bring alienated 
alumni back to Marquette University Law School," Justice Abrahamson 
said, "he changed an institution and made the institution and himself a 
vital part of many individuals and the Milwaukee and state government. 
That he accomplished this objective means great praise should be heaped 
on Howard Eisenberg and all the people in the law school."
Still, he had time for pranks, and his humor - or insanity - provided 
giggles for colleagues and prisoners alike. According to Dean Weigand, 
Eisenberg had an eBay fetish. One day he was excited about a carton of 
envelopes he had purchased on eBay to use with his prisoner "pen pals," 
and he was eager to show them off. "They were pink with ballerinas on 
them - the whole carton. I couldn't stop laughing," Weigand said.
Kamikaze Causes
Though dean duties were his first priority, Eisenberg's long hours 
included a staggering amount of pro bono work. He sometimes teased that 
he had a "niche practice" in habeas law, but this was really no joke. 
"He was the last hope for many inmates who depended on him, not only in 
Wisconsin, but also in his native Illinois, in Indiana and across much 
of the Midwest," said Joseph Kearney, an associate professor at 
Marquette Law School and Eisenberg's friend.4 When asked in January uld continue in the pro bono 
appeals program for the State Bar's Appellate Section (which he 
chaired), Eisenberg responded, "Of course. I live for pro bono appeals!" 
He listed his areas of interest and expertise as "prisoner rights, 
mental health, all difficult clients that nobody else wants."
Don Wall, counsel to the circuit executive, reports that Eisenberg 
accepted 20 pro bono appointments in the Seventh Circuit for the 
35-month period stretching from May 27, 1999 to March 13, 2002. 
Eisenberg himself told the Chicago Daily Law Bulletin that he 
had accepted a similar number in the Eighth Circuit Court of 
Appeals.5 Cornelia Clark, clerk for the 
Wisconsin Supreme Court and Court of Appeals, estimates that Eisenberg 
has worked on 51 cases in the appellate courts since he returned to 
Wisconsin in 1995. And Marla J. Stephens, director of the State Public 
Defender's Appellate Division, said that Eisenberg took public defender 
appellate appointments at a rate of one per month since 1995, and he 
never submitted a bill for his time.
Though he handled a huge quantity of pro bono appeals, the quality of 
his work did not suffer. He won the Seventh Circuit's Walter J. Cummings 
Award for excellence in advocacy on the part of appointed counsel twice 
- in 1992 and 2001. "We asked him to take particularly prickly cases, 
and he always did an outstanding job," said Judge Terence T. Evans of 
the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals. "His arguments were superb - among 
the very best of attorneys who appear before the court."
Janine Geske, friend, professor, and former Wisconsin Supreme Court 
justice, said that many people urged Eisenberg to slow down and take 
fewer pro bono cases and community service projects. But he just nodded 
and said that much work needed to be done. "In speeches to law students, 
Howard always told them to `do well and do good,'" she said. "I believe 
that Howard was driven by a spiritual force greater than any of us, who 
told him to do lots of good on this earth."6
Nathan Eisenberg, a lawyer at Previant, Goldberg, Uelman, Gratz, 
Miller & Brueggeman in Milwaukee, said that his father had "an 
amazing capacity for warmth and compassion and a desire to pursue 
difficult causes. He didn't believe in avoiding a task because it was 
too hard or too time-consuming or too controversial. In fact, he taught 
us that it was those very causes that most needed the attention of 
caring individuals."7
Indeed, Eisenberg's energy and dedication to what some called 
"kamikaze causes" are legendary. In a motion for an extension of time in 
which to file post-conviction motions, Eisenberg described his work 
schedule during December 2000. He filed post-conviction motions in a 
homicide case, made a week-long fundraising trip to London, graded 115 
final examinations, attended a day-long meeting of the Board of Bar 
Examiners (which he chaired), argued a pro bono appointment to the 
Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals, attended mid-year graduation for 
Marquette University and presided over the law school graduation, made a 
half-dozen fundraising visits to Marquette alumni, attended numerous 
committee meetings, wrote three appellate briefs - for the Seventh 
Circuit, Eighth Circuit, and Wisconsin Court of Appeals - and responded 
to a dozen letters from prisoners seeking pro bono representation. His 
motion states that: "Counsel has been in the office no less than 10 
hours every day since December 17th, including Christmas and New Years 
Day, except for December 24, on which he worked six hours." It also 
indicates that he expected to file two more briefs in criminal appeals 
during the first week of January 2001.8
Prisoner Pen Pals
Eisenberg's correspondence with prisoners is particularly impressive. 
"He answered every single letter he received from a prisoner," said 
Nancy Rogers, his administrative assistant.9There is a virtual archive of hundreds of 
prisoner correspondence files in a large metal, four-drawer cabinet at 
Marquette University Law School to corroborate her statement. Though 
Eisenberg received many letters from prisoners seeking pro bono 
representation each week, his replies were not cursory. He responded 
fully and directly, sometimes sending legal advice, an opinion, or a 
copy of one of his briefs from another case. "He offered hope to the 
hopeless," Ms. Rogers said.10 But he was 
also quite frank about their predicaments:
He told one prisoner, who was pleased to have a law dean as his 
attorney:
  | 
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 Photo: G. Steve Jordan 
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"[Y]ou should understand that I do not work miracles. The large 
majority of criminal defendants lose on appeal, and that includes my 
clients. So having me as your lawyer is no 'magic bullet.' It is always 
a significant uphill battle."11
He bluntly informed another prisoner that it was time to let go of 
the past:
"You have spent your life trying to understand things. With great 
respect, it hasn't really gotten you very far. ... You are in the 
harshest prison in the state, and that sucks. You know that and I know 
that. It's easy for me to say move on, but in reality you are in for a 
life of misery if you dwell on things you can't understand. You can't 
undo your crimes nor change how many people in free society think about 
convicted felons. ...
"I am a lawyer, not a philosopher or a priest, but I have spent my 
adult life representing convicted felons from serial killers, to spies, 
to prostitutes. Those who spent their time in prison looking backwards 
were miserable and usually ended up dead or back in prison shortly after 
they were released. Those who looked forward did better while confined 
and had a better life on the street when released."12
And in rejecting a prisoner's plea for him to attack the conditions 
of confinement at an entire Oklahoma institution, Eisenberg confessed 
limits to what he could do:
"I am Dean of the Law School. I don't have a staff or even students 
who can do this work. Essentially, I am only one person. I do all of my 
own typing (including this letter), all of my own research, and all of 
my own work. I am not in a position to undertake litigation 1,000 miles 
from home, without anyone paying the costs, and frankly, with not a very 
good chance of winning. ... In short, there isn't very much I can do for 
you. ... I am very sorry."13
The Eisenberg Example
In his speech "What's a Nice Jewish Boy Like Me Doing in a Place Like 
This?" Eisenberg urged others to bring God into their daily lives. "Do 
we go out of our way to do pro bono work, to help the needy, to listen 
to those who have problems? Living a spiritual life must become 
`business as usual' for each of us, Jew or Gentile, Christian or 
Moslem."14
It certainly was "business as usual" for Eisenberg. Marquette 
University sits in downtown Milwaukee. "Many of our homeless neighbors 
don't have a clue how to access legal help, but they see `law' on the 
front of this building and they think there may be somebody inside who 
can help," he told Marquette Magazine.15 "When I think I can help them, I do. That's what 
we're about. It would no more occur to me to tell that person to get out 
of the Law School or call Campus Security than it would to kick a 
student out of my office."16
Eisenberg also liked to take students to prison for client 
interviews. "Part of the reason I do this kind of work with students is 
because they come to law school with a lot of prejudices about people 
caught up in the criminal justice system," he said. "When I take 
students to see serious felons, they admit they are surprised these 
people are human."17 He hoped the 
experience would provide students with early lessons on their pro bono 
obligations.
"In speaking to law school graduates on their admission to the bar at 
the court and to the entering class at Marquette's freshman orientation 
I have used Howard as their role model," Justice Abrahamson said. "He 
represented the client well, continually educated himself, worked hard, 
showed a sense of humor, committed himself to the poor and 
underprivileged, and tithed to the community."
Pat Ballman, the State Bar's new president, sat next to Eisenberg at 
a breakfast meeting on May 23. Though he felt sick, he minimized his 
condition. That afternoon he was admitted to the hospital for a heart 
attack. He passed away on June 4, 2002. "Eisenberg died very young, just 
55," Ballman said. "But he lived more and accomplished more good than 
most people could in 10 lifetimes. It will take a team of people to 
carry on all the good work he was doing."
Eisenberg is truly irreplaceable to his family, friends, colleagues, 
students, and the Wisconsin legal community. His death is also a 
potential calamity to countless indigent people who will need legal 
representation or just a sympathetic ear. But this need not occur. Nancy 
Rogers, Eisenberg's assistant, knows exactly what Wisconsin lawyers must 
do:
"For those of you from the legal community who said you wish there 
was something you could do - there is. Carry on Howard's pro bono work. 
There is an immediate need for attention to several cases and a 
four-drawer file cabinet of [letters from] people who would like to know 
that they will not be forgotten."18
Endnotes
1 Dogs and 
Snipes, 79 A.B.A. J. 52 (Oct. 1993)
2 Id.
3 Howard B. 
Eisenberg, What's a Nice 
Jewish Boy Like Me Doing in a Place Like This? .
4 Joseph D. 
Kearney, Eisenberg: A Hero Devoted to Justice, Milwaukee J. 
Sent., 19A (June 6, 2002).
5 Jerry Crimmins, 
Once a Burden, Appointment Now a Much Sought Plum, 148 Chicago 
Daily L. Bull. 1 (Feb. 28, 2002).
6 Janine Geske's 
eulogy, June 6, 2002.
7 Nathan 
Eisenberg's eulogy, June 6, 2002.
8 Motion for 
Second Extension of Time in Which to File Post-Conviction Motions in 
State v. Kupaza, Case No. 00-CF-26, (Wis. Ct. App. Jan. 1, 
2001).
9 Nancy Rogers' 
eulogy, June 6, 2002.
10 Id.
11 Howard B. 
Eisenberg prisoner correspondence file.
12 Prisoner 
correspondence cited in Janine Geske's eulogy, June 6, 2002.
13 Howard B. 
Eisenberg prisoner correspondence file.
14 Eisenberg, 
supra note 3.
15 Joni Moths 
Mueller, Justice for All, 18 Marq. Mag. 16 (Summer 2000).
16 Id.
17 Id. 
at 14.
18 Nancy Rogers' 
eulogy, June 6, 2002.