Friday, Jan. 17, 2003 | 5:44 a.m.
MANY LAWYERS will never see the inside of the U.S. Supreme Court, even as a tourist. For the few who get inside, it is a beautiful and terrifying place.
Nevada Deputy Attorney General Paul Taggart had strolled its grand interior on a boyhood trip, imagining that one day he might appear before the high court.
Last week he got his chance.
Taggart argued the case Nevada Department of Human Resources v. Hibbs, which focuses on the question of whether state employees are entitled to sue their state under the federal Family and Medical Leave Act.
"It's just an incredible honor," Taggart said. "It's so rare."
Supreme Court cases typically take over a lawyer's life. Taggart had been thrilled in July when then-Attorney General Frankie Sue Del Papa asked him to argue the case. Then a bolt of anxiety struck.
"I realized I had a lot of work to do," Taggart said.
Taggart researched relentlessly, working 10-, 12-, 16-hour days, weekends, holidays -- time away from his wife, Sonia, also a deputy attorney general, and from his 13-month-old daughter. He practiced every argument backward and forward and patiently fielded media questions about the case. He weathered six mock courts, including two in Washington at the National Association of Attorneys General. Last month Taggart flew back to Washington to attend a court hearing to refresh his memories of the place, and imagine himself up there.
The Supreme Court building was designed to inspire awe -- and fear. Its classical Corinthian facade and interior are mostly marble imported from all over the world -- Vermont, Georgia, Africa, Italy. The lobby outside the courtroom, the Great Hall as it's known, typically commands reverential silence from visitors. The great oak doors to the courtroom have a Pearly Gates feel about them -- there's a sense of something wondrous on the other side.
The courtroom itself features walls with Spanish ivory friezes and 24 columns of Siena marble soaring to meet the ceiling 44 feet above. For the justices seated at the raised mahogany bench, the Supreme Court chamber is the greatest home-court advantage (pun intended) in the world. For even the cockiest lawyers, it is an intimidating place.
Taggart was on at 11 a.m. Wednesday. Shortly before another 10 a.m. case started, he went for a walk in the building to calm his nerves. Without having planned it, he ran into his wife and parents.
"That was a godsend," Taggart said. "It really calmed me."
As the justices filleted the lawyers in a 10 a.m. case, Taggart sat in the courtroom and prayed.
Then it was time.
Lawyers know the drill. They get a minute or two to make an opening statement -- the testy justices let them gather just enough momentum to make it fun to stop them in their tracks. From there, it's 30 minutes of grilling for each side -- a dizzying barrage of questions from every ideological spectrum among the nine justices (although Clarence Thomas rarely makes a peep).
The justices think nothing of tearing a lawyer's arguments -- and dignity -- to shreds. It is their goal to batter the lawyers' brains to a pulp, to stretch and twist their arguments in a quest to better understand a case's intricate details.
Thirty minutes for each lawyer seems a short amount of time given the complexity and far-reaching significance of the cases.
"They say it's the fastest 30 minutes in town," Taggart said.
For the lawyers, the pressure can be unbearable. There is too much at stake in a Supreme Court case for them to make a mistake. They don't have a choice -- it has to be their best day as a lawyer, ever.
Taggart had a photograph of his daughter, Sophia Grace, in his pocket for good luck.
"There is an anxiety that comes over you," Taggart said. "It's, 'I just want this to start already.' "
The justices gave Taggart less than a minute before firing questions. But he was ready for that, and the butterflies roiling his insides fluttered away.
"It just became a conversation," Taggart said.
Opposing counsel, a well-respected employment lawyer and Georgetown University law professor named Cornelia Pillard, weathered the same scrutiny. Taggart made a brief closing argument, and it was over. Taggart spoke to reporters, and he and his family went out to lunch.
By Friday he had thrown himself into another case on water issues. He has more time now for his family, for a neglected hardwood floor project, and for running.
"I need to get back in shape," he said.
Taggart has his life back. He wanted it back.
Still, a Supreme Court appearance, like any boyhood dream, isn't easy to let go.
"There was a lot of relief when it was over," Taggart said. "And there was a letdown. For an attorney, the Supreme Court is the pinnacle of a career. Now that it's over, what do I do?"
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