Carl Stevens' Journal: A Poem For Neil Chayet
He told us what he heard, and he showed us what he saw.
Ten thousand versions of "Looking at the Law."
Neil Chayet put his hand to the pen
And revealed to us all, again and again,
Avenues of justice we didn't know existed.
The siren song of law was one he never resisted.
He led us into courtrooms and overturned the rocks;
We saw the worms of righteousness and smelled the hole-ly socks.
He reminds us each day that laws are made by men;
Like humans, law is fallible, and sometimes needs amends.
The world of law, at times, is dim; a darkness that we fight;
But when Neil's in the radio room, his genius flicks a light.
And with his words came vision, a legal clarity;
He deciphers all the gobbledegook, and helps us all to see.
In '76 he started, a typewriter at his desk,
With a legal squirrel inside his head that would not let his rest.
Judicial acorns filled his tree, he never had enough.
He filled America's airwaves with all his legal stuff.
We owe a debt of gratitude, a debt of thanks to him.
He helped us all to see that law's a tree with many limbs,
That in a world of humans, there are bound to be some flaws.
I learned that much, and so much more from "Looking at the Law."
So Neil Chayet, I praise you, what you've done is quite immense:
In a world of verbal boundaries, you've taken down the fence.
I applaud your many stories, but this is not a setting sun.
You've recorded ten thousand stories; now record ten thousand and one.
Listen to Carl's poem: