64 TNLR xiii

(Cite as: 64 Tenn. L. Rev. XIII)

Tennessee Law Review

Spring, 1997

Dedication

*xiii HAVING A PHILLIPS MOMENT

Glenn H. Reynolds [FNa1]

Reynolds

When I was interviewing for law teaching jobs, Jerry Phillips was on the Faculty Appointments Committee, and he was tasked with picking me up at the airport. Although I had been an undergraduate on this campus, I didn't know him, except vaguely by reputation.

The man who met me as I exited the plane was the very image of a professor. Dressed in rumpled tweeds, full of sagacious comments about everything from airline food to the unfortunate results of the last Presidential election, he also seemed a bit absent-minded. In fact, as we reached the parking lot, perhaps more than a bit.

We were, he told me, looking for "a brown Toyota," parked somewhere around the middle of the lot. But despite our best efforts, the brown Toyota stubbornly failed to appear. We walked up and down the rows of parked *xiv cars for about fifteen minutes, and the thought was beginning to enter my mind that this might be some sort of bizarre test-the-candidate interviewing trick, when suddenly Jerry assumed a posture reminiscent of a bird-dog on point and exclaimed "There it is!" The car in question was a maroon Honda. "What can you expect?" he muttered as he opened the door. "These Japanese cars all look the same."

When I recounted the story to a colleague some time later, the response was "Oh, you had a Phillips moment." Immediately thereafter, everyone in the vicinity began telling their own stories of Phillips moments.

But Phillips moments are not always what they appear. I later discovered that the reason for the automotive confusion was that Phillips had been keeping the maroon Honda for a colleague who was spending the year abroad, and had driven it to the airport to "exercise the motor" and keep it from rusting. So the root cause of my first Phillips moment had as much to do with generosity as with absent-mindedness.

And, having become one of Jerry's colleagues, I've discovered the many other kinds of Phillips moments. Over the years, Jerry and I have had conversations on topics ranging from Biblical scholarship to constitutional federalism. They've always been enjoyable, and often I've walked away with an insight that I might not otherwise have had. Those are Phillips moments, too.

Jerry is possessed of a mind both broad and supple, as illustrated by his contribution to this issue. "Tort reform" has been a topic of discussion for some years now, but neither its proponents nor, surprisingly enough, its opponents have given much thought to the question of whether the Federal government has the constitutional power to make wholesale alterations in state tort law. The proponents of tort reform--usually enthusiasts of federalism on other fronts--haven't asked this question because it might undercut their position. The opponents, on the other hand, are for the most part people and groups who are so used to supporting expanded government power that it is almost a reflex--even when a contrary argument might actually serve them better. Jerry is admirably free of both kinds of blind spots. With his usual scholarly rigor, he has analyzed the issue dispassionately and, I think, correctly.

Few scholars, on this faculty or any other, have published as well or as often on torts or on constitutional law, much less both. And--exploding the bogus dichotomy of teaching vs. scholarship--few teachers, on this faculty or any other, are as beloved by their students and colleagues. In a mind with so much going on, it is not surprising that the more mundane details of life, like car make and color, often fail to make it to the front burner.

When President Lincoln was approached about Ulysses S. Grant's drinking, he is reputed to have responded, "find out what he's drinking, so I can send it to my other generals." Were I a law school dean, my response to the Phillips moment stories would be something like, "find out what he's forgetting, so I can tell my other faculty members to forget it, too."

*xv Well, on second thought perhaps a faculty full of Jerry Phillips clones would be more than any dean could ask for--or survive. But we are very fortunate to have the original among us, and I, like all of us, look forward to many more Phillips moments.

[FNa1]. Professor of Law, University of Tennessee. J.D. Yale Law School, 1985, B.A. University of Tennessee, 1982.

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