Marshall lent his celebrity to the cause
- Charles Reams 1

- 23 hours ago
- 4 min read
“Don’t worry. Thurgood Marshall is coming.” That was the chant during the civil rights struggle in the South.
White racists became enamored with Marshall because he knew the law and masterfully defended it.

Thurgood Marshall often used his charismatic personality, down-to-earth humor, and reputation as “Mr. Civil Rights” to disarm, charm, and, at times, soften legal opponents, turning hostile encounters into more productive or manageable situations.
Reality check
A law school valedictorian with “charisma in spades” is exceptionally rare, representing a combination of extreme academic disciplines and high-level social intelligence that it’s often seen as a contractor in the legal field. While law school top-performers are frequently described as driven, hyper-competitive, and sometimes “crushingly boring” or socially inept, a truly charismatic valedictorian is a standout figure. Here is a breakdown of why this combination is rare:
More than 90 hours of law study a week leaves precious little time to develop intense social skills.
A students are often risk-averse, whereas B and C students are adaptable to real-life practice.
Top law school students are very intelligent, but they often score less than the general population in emotional intelligence.
Law schools report on legends of top academic performers who cannot hold a conversation over lunch with classmates.
However, when valedictorians have a high level of charisma, they are unicorns that blend technical mastery with the ability to lead and inspire. Such leaders are described as holding court with confidence and charisma.
Joking with Chief Justice Burger: Despite being on opposite sides of the ideological spectrum during a time when the Court was shifting toward conservatism, Marshall maintained a "down-to-earth" style. He frequently disarmed Chief Justice Warren Burger by joking with him in the hallways, famously greeting him with, "What's shakin', Chief baby?".
"Getting Even" at the University of Maryland: In the case Murray v. Pearson (1936), Marshall sued the University of Maryland—the same school that had denied him admission—to integrate its law school. By confronting his own oppressors with legal brilliance, he used his personal stake in the case to disarm opponents who expected a more timid approach from a Black attorney in a segregated, hostile Maryland court.
Charming White Southern Jurors and Judges: During his time as an NAACP legal counsel traveling through the South, Marshall frequently faced hostile, all-white juries and judges. He often "softened" these dangerous, prejudiced settings with humor, storytelling, and an affable, polite demeanor, disarming critics who expected a confrontational, angry antagonist.
Navigating Hostile Local Police: While in the South, Marshall and his colleagues were often threatened by local police. He used his calm, professional demeanor—a "celebrity" of the legal world—to manage these situations, sometimes relying on his reputation to navigate threats from angry white Southerners, according to his work at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund.
Subtle Persuasion with Federal Opponents: As Solicitor General (1965-1967), Marshall's reputation meant he did not always have to fight aggressively to be heard. His celebrity, having won 29 of 32 cases before the Supreme Court, meant that government opponents were often pre-softened, already familiar with his legal prowess and ability to sway the Court.
These tactics were part of his larger strategy of using “law as social engineers,” where he was known to use his intellect and personality to navigate, rather than just directly crash through systemic opposition.
Smith v Allwright fundamentally altered the political landscape in the South and was a pivotal step toward universal voting rights.
Despite some colleagues in the NAACP criticizing Marshall for spending time defending criminal cases rather than solely on civil desegregation, he received $200,000 in donations to the NAACP for defending Black citizens against police brutality and fabricated charges.
Imagine a legal system that accepted coerced confessions as legal. Such a system of terror could thrive only with the clandestine support of powerful people.
Marshall defended Walter Irvin, one of the “Groveland Four,” falsely accused of rape in Florida in 1949. Marshall successfully argued for a retrial, but Irvin was shot and severely wounded by Sheriff Willis McCall while being transported to that retrial in 1951.
The picture that impacted Marshall the most
Pictures of lynchings were common. But it was not the bulging eyes, or swollen necks, or other grotesque features of lynching that impacted Marshall the most.
It was the picture of white children, in Sunday best, celebrating the lynching of innocent Blacks. Marshall then realized how deeply embedded racism is in the American fabric.
Brown v. Board of Education.
No one anticipated the staunch resistance to the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision.
Whites picketed on the first day of school and deployed various delay tactics.
President Dwight Eisenhower announced that it would take time to integrate Black children into school systems. The civil rights movement thus lost momentum.
No one was prepared for Plan B when faced with such implacable stances. Today, many areas remain largely segregated.
Marshall’s son, John Marshall, said his father pointed out that many of the movement's heroes remain unsung: the nameless people who lost homes and jobs during the struggle.
All were surprised when, years later, President Johnson nominated Marshall to the US Supreme Court.
Now there is a discussion about the majesty of civil rights laws.
Marshall foresaw that America could be better than the way it was then acting.
Sadly, no one says that schools and neighborhoods are truly integrated. And the way to integration is as murky as ever. Despite the milestone achievements of the past, the lively debate continues.


