Recalling My Friend Jim Roe

James Martin Roe

Jim Roe, a well known, much loved Montlake resident since the late 1970s, passed away recently at age 63. Since 1995, he and I had been friends. We served together on non-profit boards; gardened together; walked, talked and drank dark beer together. Jim earned his living as a criminal defense attorney—James Martin Roe— admitting that he was a exceptionally good lawyer, especially in trials, though a bad businessman: he was not a rich lawyer. He knew the laws and legal system inside out. When not at work, he played.

Jim’s hobbies included volunteering for many matters, including legal causes, Montlake Community Club, and any place where he could spread wood-chip mulch. He loved singing and was active in several choral groups; also he managed the Cornish Courtyard stage each year at Folklife. For exercise, Jim rowed on Lake Union. Everything he did was characterized by an engaging enthusiasm. His personality was fascinating because he could maintain a poker face—necessary for courtroom trials— while being humorous secretly when questioning people. Of the 3 boards I sat on with him (Seattle Tilth, Treemendous Seattle, Montlake Community Club), he was by far the most likely to state in discussions: “I appreciate your position,” but . . . “Note my dissent.” He knew how to manage money carefully, adhere to budgets and bylaws, and to ask questions that others were afraid to.

At a wedding he & I once attended, one woman confided in me: “when I first was getting acquainted with this man, I figured I was either going to be annoyed constantly at his remarks—or to learn to love his sense of humor.” She chose the latter approach.

One year, helping to prepare the Montlake Garden Tour, Jim mentioned that both the garden that he and his wife Martha maintained, and the garden immediately next door, would participate. I inquired when he had asked the neighbor next door. “I didn’t,” he responded. When I asked the neighbor herself, she just smiled and commented, “yes, that’s Jim. He has his way.” She did not mind Jim’s eccentricities.

For a Montlake Community Club board meeting, that happened near St Patrick’s Day, I suggested that he bring to share some cans of Guinness beer, which are only about 4% alcohol. He showed up instead with cans of an imperial stout, a full 10.5% alcohol, and took glee as several unknowing board members drank one can, then another, while getting very merry and talkative.

One day, as Jim and I were sitting in his garden visiting, Martha returned home, and informed us what had just happened: she had been in her car, and a police officer pulled her over for a traffic infraction. When the cop looked at her vehicle registration, he was taken aback, and blurted out: “I cannot issue a ticket to Jim Roe’s wife. Be careful!”

A favorite story Jim told was how he defended the Greenpeace protestors who were cited for being disruptive to traffic as they dangled on ropes from the Aurora Bridge. His argument was: the protestors did not disrupt traffic even a bit; it was instead the Seattle police response that did. The judge agreed, and the case was dismissed.

The police were so annoyed at how many of their tickets issued were thrown out when defended by Jim, that they took to video-tapping his court arguments, to learn what they were doing incorrectly.

In 2013, Jim had a malfunctioning heart valve that needed surgery. There was a minor stroke during the procedure, from which he recovered fully, though it took a long time. Jim credited his recovery in part to his robust singing, and brisk walking. He and I walked from Montlake to Madison Park, Capitol Hill, the University District, Roosevelt, Wallingford, and the U Village. We would walk fast, then sit at our destination chatting over a beer, finally walk fast back home. Our longest walk went from his office downtown, to SoDo, east on Lander, back north to Chinatown, then to Seattle University and over Capitol Hill to Montlake. He appreciated seeing places on foot that he had seen previously only from motor vehicles.

He really valued being able to talk with friends, neighbors, and strangers. During these conversations, he reflected on the law, on non-profit organizations, on politics, on environmental issues, and demography. Jim was concerned, for example, about how Seattle Tilth grew from a local warm community of volunteers to a size wherein there are some 35 employees in an office that he characterized as “looking just like IBM.” And he was certain that Montlake was better off when we delivered a printed Flyer to everyone, rather than relying on the online-only method to share neighborhood news.

He had not a molecule of shyness, nor fear. He relished having fun, mugging for cameras, raising toasts. Once he called me and asked: “Wanna go to HopScotch?” I replied, “why? Did you buy tickets?” He said: “no, but we can get in free because I helped the organizer handle some legal issues.” Sure enough, we went there, bypassed a line of dozens of people, and Jim convinced the gatekeepers that Phil would let us attend for free. It worked.