CHATTANOOGA, Tenn. — Judge Walter Williams glowers at a teenager before launching into one of his famed lectures on morality and manners.
The judge scolds the boy for wearing earrings, dropping out of school, wearing his hair long and living with his girlfriend. The teen's traffic violation, the reason for his court appearance, is barely mentioned.
"Living in sin? That's not right," said Williams, a slight man with a booming voice. "Living in sin, oh dear. You ought to straighten that out."
Such commentary has become the judge's trademark — and it has gotten him in trouble. He faces trial Wednesday on 26 charges of misconduct filed by the Tennessee Court of Judiciary, the disciplinary board that monitors judges' behavior and pursues citizen complaints.
The charges include illegally jailing a defense attorney who muttered "um" when Williams told her not to speak and holding a woman in jail for 77 days despite being authorized to keep her for only a month.
"Maybe I'll change if I come back in a different life, but I ain't changing in this one. They'll have to carry me out first. They'll have to bring the stretcher in here," the municipal court judge said.
Williams also is charged with biased, unprofessional and demeaning behavior and having a "callous indifference" to the importance of his position. A panel of 15 judges will hear the case. Possible penalties range from a reprimand to an impeachment recommendation.
"There are things in their complaint that are factually incorrect, taken out of context and don't come near a violation of the Judicial Code of Conduct," said Roger Dickson, a lawyer for Williams.
Supporters say Williams' no-nonsense style is effective, but critics say it's befitting daytime television, not criminal court.
Though his methods may be unconventional, Williams is revered by many in the community.
The judge was re-elected to a second eight-year term in 1999 with 68 percent of the vote.A year later, he was reprimanded on 13 counts of misconduct, including making jokes about a mentally ill defendant and possessing a gun in the courtroom. He signed a letter of apology to the judiciary.
Williams also was accused of saying unwed mothers should be "spayed." He denied using the term, but admits telling some poor women to stop having children.
"He's turned his courtroom into a type of carnival. I don't think the judiciary is going to allow that," said former assistant public defender Hank Hill, whose complaint lead to Williams' 1992 reprimand.
Perhaps the most damaging of all the charges is that Williams routinely exceeds his authority allowed under the Tennessee Constitution.
As a city judge, Williams is only allowed to fine law breakers up to $50 and hold them in jail for up to 30 days.
Since being elected in 1991, Williams has allowed hundreds of teen-age offenders avoid fines or jail by earning general equivalency degrees. He proudly claims more than 830 defendants have obtained GEDs, with an additional 500 under his mandate to take the exam.
"I don't know anyone who forgets coming through here, because everything I do is to make sure they don't come back here again," Williams said. "We ought to rattle a person's cage so they don't want to be back here."
Though his methods may be unconventional, Williams is revered by many in the community. The judge was re-elected to a second eight-year term in 1999 with 68 percent of the vote.
Williams, raised in a Chattanooga housing project, is the city's only black judge. He graduated from public schools, then earned degrees from Morehouse College and Howard University Law School.
He returned to his hometown to teach at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, and started a private practice before being elected.
"He has excellent insight in how to make gains for these neighborhoods," said Victor Bryant, a spokesman for the Bushtown Neighborhood Association.
When Williams took office, he created the city's first environmental court to handle cases involving abandoned buildings, overgrown lawns, litter, animal abuse and abandoned vehicles. Since then, city records show a 56 percent increase in compliance with code regulations.
"No matter how atypical his sentencing is, we recognize the kind of benefit it has to this community," said Daphne A. Sloan, president of the nonprofit Westside Community Development Corp. "You can't measure all of the lives he has touched."
A throng of Williams' supporters are expected to attend the trial in Chattanooga. The judge wouldn't speculate on the outcome.
"I don't know what's going to happen with all this bull," Williams said. "In the final analysis, I'm going to be all right."