The Blank Page

Reflections PART II

By Mark Blank, Jr., Esquire

Before reading further (that is, if you choose to do so), I urge you to peruse “Reflections” I: Reflections, by the Honorable Mark L. Tunnell (New Matter, Fourth Quarter, 2021). Long before he became a judge, I referred to Judge Tunnell (hereinafter, “Mark,” “Mark I” or “Judge”) as Mark I and to myself as Mark II. Prior to meeting Mark, I recognized his name. Early on, I became an avid reader of the Chester County Law Reporter. I noted that Mark was the publication’s editor and chief headnote writer (long before my own editorship). Then, some time in 1978, when I was an associate in a Chester County law firm, I was presented with a research assignment (one of many). My senior advised me to contact Mark who, at the time, was an associate with Cremers, Morris and Greenwood (later known as Cremers, Morris, Greenwood and Tunnell). I telephoned Mark and left a message with the receptionist. Mark did not know who I was but, nevertheless, promptly returned my call. After I explained the problem, Mark read to me the memorandum that he prepared for his senior partners. (This was long before facsimiles and emails, when such method of communication was customary.) My next contact with Mark illustrated to me that he was a real Chester County lawyer, representing people from all walks of life as well as businesses and estates. Mark was counsel for the Estate of Darlington, the decedent being a descendant of the founding fathers of West Chester.1 (I had a minimal involvement with the case.) A little later, there was Berman v. Beale. I inherited the plaintiff, Lily Berman, from the Chester County Lawyer Referral Service. Bruce Beale owed her about $1700. Lily had sued Bruce in District Justice Court, where she prevailed. Mark, who had not represented Bruce in the Justice of the Peace Court, took on the appeal. Lily claimed that Bruce had an antique store. In reality, as Mark explained to me, the inventory was not antiquities; it was junk. Mark did not play games. He walked into the arbitration, approached me, and told me that he would agree to an award. His offer was the total amount of Lily’s claim. Accepted as agreed; award entered. Some weeks later, I telephoned Mark to discuss payment arrangements. He informed me that Bruce had passed away. Lily, not concerned about the loss of a friend, inquired as to how she was going to be paid. Well, there was no estate, and there would not be one. Of course, a creditor can raise an estate, as I explained to Lily. (I sent her on her way.) The case illustrated to me that Mark was a gentleman, a squire, a country lawyer. Yes, at that time, most of us were country lawyers in a closely knit bar association, practicing law in a county that was predominantly rural.2 Our next rendezvous was at a Common Pleas arbitration. I was on the Board of Arbitrators with Chairman Lawrence E. MacElree, Esquire. Mark represented the plaintiff in a suit over three pairs of pants. The issues were who owned the pants and what was the value. My recollection, Mark II, was that Larry led us to rule against you. (Please correct me if I am wrong.) After Mark joined the big city law firm, Gawthrop, Greenwood and Halsted (n/k/a Gawthrop Greenwood), and became a certified civil trial lawyer, he invited me to join him for lunch at the West Chester Country Club. At

1Isabelle Darlington, Esquire, was the first female lawyer in Chester County, and president of the Chester County Bar Association in 1941. 2Exton consisted of an old country hotel, a Howard Johnson’s, a diner and a filling station. Elmer and Peg Polite, soon to form Mr. Sandwich Coffee Shop, owned the Guernsey Cow, which was slightly to the east of the Crossroads. Charlestown Township was farmland. Phoenixville was a small industrial town. Southern Chester County was redneck country with mushroom farms housing illegal aliens. Coatesville was Lukens Steel and vice versa.

lunch, we discussed a professional relationship, in which he would refer cases to me that his firm could not handle, and in turn, I would refer trauma work to him, the latter being based on the customary fee sharing arrangement. Then, in late 1985, Mark advised me that his elderly mother, Isabelle, was ill, and needed a will. He asked me to do the service and I gladly agreed. In fact, I was honored. At the time, Mark and his family lived in Berwyn, Jill and I lived in Devon and my office was in Paoli. Mark told me that he wanted somebody local to prepare the will. Isabelle was living at the Baldwin School in Bryn Mawr. After my second home visit, I recommended to Mark that his mother be taken to stay with Mark, Judy and family, as Isabelle was in pretty bad shape. I drafted the will in a hurry as I perceived that time was of the essence. The final draft was rather sloppy. At least I thought that it was. But I was fearful that there might not be much time to fix it. I arrived at Judy and Mark’s house armed with the will and Murray Zealor (the Z-man), an insurance agent who was a Notary Public and knew everyone in the community, including Isabelle. The will was finalized; signed, sealed and delivered. (I was relieved.) That was a Thursday. I took the afternoon off and, with Jill, began making preparations for our annual party to be held the following Sunday. Judy and Mark arrived at the door of our house for our party. “How is your mother?” I asked. Mark I: “She passed away.” “My condolences,” I replied with as much sadness as Mark. I really liked Isabelle. She reminded me of one of the very few teachers that I liked at Germantown Friends, where I attended prep school. (If my memory serves me correctly, Mark went to Devon Prep.) Mark and Judy were regular invitees to our annual holiday gala until 2000, after which we discontinued those parties. A few years after our last party, I sat with Mark and Kevin Ryan at the annual president’s dinner. “What happened to those great parties?” Kevin asked. “Yeah,” said Mark. “That’s what I’d like to know. Shame on you.” Those were good parties, if we may say so ourselves. Our parties were self-catered, with a bartender and two servers. We prepared the hors-d’oeurves and the ambience ourselves. Now, two and a half years after the passing of Isabelle, Mark referred to me a guardianship case. Three middleaged siblings desired to have their stepmother adjudged incompetent. They needed to take over her personal and financial affairs. Gawthrop Greenwood had a conflict. The attorney for Josephine G. C. was Bill Mahon (later referred to as Honorable). I took the case and, as any matter of this genre, it was difficult and emotional. Mark became president of the Chester County Bar Association in 2003. We worked together on various committees. We both had a keen interest in the history of the Chester County Bar and, thus, the Historical Committee. As chairman of the Newsletter Committee (as it was then known) and editor of New Matter, Mark’s wit and humor (a prime feature of New Matter when it was a monthly publication) could not be matched. One day, Mark approached me while I was walking on my way to a meeting at the Bar Association. He asked me (or maybe accused me) if I was a Democrat. “No.” In my past, I had been both a Dem and a GOP. I guess he wanted to know if I was competing with him in his race for a judge. I proudly advised him that I was an Independent, always have been and always will be; and that I was not interested in running for judge. Notwithstanding my lack of party affiliation, I endorsed Mark and contributed to his campaign, not so much because he was a longtime friend and colleague but, more so, that I thought that he would make a good judge. And that he did. Being a dedicated and consistent reader of the Chester County Law Reporter, I perused his published opinions. They were thorough, detailed, complete, and with a logical application of the law to the facts in each case. His judicial style was akin to Judge Wood’s, whose opinions I have always admired. Towards the end of Mark’s career on the Bench, he authored Estate of Thouron, Deceased, Chesco., O.C. Nos. 1507-0230, 1506-0305 (objections to final accounts). This was a 222-page opinion and adjudication involving a case that spanned over nine years and concluded with a fourteen-day trial. I read the entire opinion, which was as if I were reading seven chapters from an estate and trust administration textbook. In the end, Judge Tunnell ordered huge disgorgements of fees and/or surcharges against the fiduciaries, including the attorneys. The opinion made me think of Judge Leonard Sugerman in Hepps v. Philadelphia Newspapers and Commonwealth v. the Johnstons. Among many other attributes, this illustrated that Judge Tunnell was key to an independent judiciary. Finally, I had the joy of working with Mark in the Stively Players: able, witty, singer/songwriter/actor and commentator. Although the Stively Players is no longer active (disbanded?), to me, the legend of the Players lives on. Judge Tunnell decided not to run for retention at the completion of his term. And I take it that he opted not to go to senior status. So, Mark I is enjoying his retirement as is Mark II.