The front page of the November 24, 1997 Pennsylvania Legal Intelligencer glowed with the intensity of a huge neon sign atop New York's Times Square:

SABO OUT AS SR. JUDGE, 5 NEW TEAM LEADERS IN...

For the 32 defendants who left his dungeon-like courtroom with death sentences -- twenty of whom still languish on death row, (this writer among them) it was a day before "Thanksgiving" and we were served a fat, juicy, turkey pumped on steroids. Santa had come early. It was New Year's Rockin' Eve.

The State Supreme Court's directive was swift and unapologetic -- a sort of sacrificial judicial downsizing -- and the chickens came home to roost.

In a Philadelphia Inquirer interview, Sabo expressed shock and outrage at being stripped of his kingdom.

"I asked why?" I said, "Did I ever refuse a case, big or small?"

The presiding judge who'd enforced the decree told him, hey, he was just doing his job.

Maybe so-and-so can help, or the administrative judge, but --

"I called there," Sabo lamented. "He didn't tell me anything. I wanted them to say specifically what system they used to pick me."

But the pen betokens the record and a cursory review leaves no room for sympathy for this heartless hangman. Perhaps an imaginary figure from Sabo's dark, midevil world...Pontius Judas, his loyal servant, should be assigned the herculean task of explaining the reasons for his sudden ouster.

"I ask why, why, why,? Oh Gawd, why? Did I ever refuse a case, big or small? Well did I?"

"If I may be permitted to speak, m'lord."

"It was I who taught you to speak the King's English, proper etiquette and decorum, wasn't it?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"You were the one case I liberated from the gallows. I could have had you hanged. But you was a white man. "

"For which I am immensely grateful, m'lord. But...but I was innocent -"

"You were guilty like the rest of 'em. You were a thief, a murderin' heathen."

"I, but -"

"You want a whippin'? You know I'd whup ya."

Pontius Judas stares at the floor.

"Then speak, you fool."

"It is said you imposed your will upon men of great vision - playwrights, Journalists, and poets, and you stripped them of their majesty..."

"Go on."

Pontius Judas swallowed. "The suns and moons and stars assembled to weep for the martyrs. The hue and cries for justice from the angels were heard across the universe."

"I'm a conservative judge. I'll admit to that. I'm not a liberal."

"Well, because of your conservative judicial activism there were rallies around the world. Ordinary men, women, and children rose up in the streets. Spain and Rome and France are allies no more. The Queen condemned you. The barristers called you a disgrace, your Grace."

"Hah! Lilly-white wig-wearing fairies."

Pontius Judas hears a chorus of angry protesters on the street below. He tosses some garments into a knapsack.

"We must leave now, m'lord! Before it's too late!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Sabo snaps.

"Would that be all, m'lord?" Pontius eyes the door.

"No. Get me my robe. I have a capital case to try. Did I ever refuse a case, big or small?"

"But...the justices of the Supreme Court exercised their King's Bench powers to remove you from the bench!"

"I don't care what the Supreme Court said. I'm not leaving. Now get my robe!"

Pontius helps him into his long black robe.

"And put some more vodka in this coffee. It ain't strong enough."

"But, m'lord, alcohol and medicine is a dangerous mixture. It is forbidden. You've already suffered one major stroke on the bench."

"If I needed medical advice I'd've made you my personal physician instead of my servant. Pour!"

"But..."

"You want a whippin'? You know I'd whup ya."

Pontius fills his cup and inches towards the door. The din outside swells ominously. Suddenly Sabo gasps, clutches his chest, and keels over.

"M'Lord!" Pontius Judas screams and races over to the crumpled mass.

"M'Lord! Oooh, M'Lord!"

Reprinted from: