Niall looked up and saw his high school classmate, Frederick. From his name, it was obvious that the guy was of German descent.
Yes, besides the large Irish immigrant population, this county had a fifth of its population as German immigrants. In fact, the neighboring counties had even more. Due to population growth, famine, and other factors, there was a mass immigration from the German regions a few decades ago, most of them settling in the Americas.
To ensure the judge could understand the German language spoken by around three or four thousand German immigrants in the county, Frederick was clearly assigned to serve as a clerk and translator.
It seems that the road to promoting English in America is long and winding!
Frederick was luckier than Niall. His family ran a hotel, and yes, it was one of those with "special services" on the third floor. The miners had difficulty finding wives; they never knew whether they'd survive another day of work. If given the choice, many families didn't want to marry off their daughters to miners. Hence, the hotel business in this area thrived, especially on payday, when the hotel was always packed.
Frederick's family had some money, and after he graduated from high school, he used his connections to get a position in the administrative committee as a clerk. He worked there for two years, and once he got familiar with the people, it would be a great benefit to their family's hotel business.
"Hold on," Niall waved to Frederick.
Niall, unlike Frederick, didn't use a typewriter and had to rely on pencil shorthand in court. Fortunately, court speeches weren't too fast, and it was enough to record the gist of things. Later, Frederick would re-enter the notes, so Niall owed him a favor.
As fellow immigrants, they had a good relationship in high school—nothing close to best friends, but they could talk easily. Moreover, Frederick had hopes of recruiting Niall to work at his family's hotel, perhaps even making him his deputy and moving the hotel closer to the coal mines.
He, a German, found it hard to communicate with the illiterate Irish miners. But with Niall, an Irishman himself, he could approach them and expand the business more efficiently. When expanding, it was always better to use someone familiar than a stranger. This was how things worked universally!
After waiting a short while outside the administrative committee's building, Frederick came downstairs with a folder and immediately pulled Niall along. Together, they headed to the circuit court.
Logically, a circuit court should be held in a grand indoor space, but unfortunately, Brooke County was a settlement of immigrants. Without the coal mines, the county might never have existed. So, while the coal mines were prosperous, the town was not large. There was no big hall or even a large church—the local Catholic church wasn't wealthy enough to build one of those massive cathedrals you'd see elsewhere.
Therefore, the circuit court was held outside, right in front of the tax office, which also served as the "town square." They set up a canopy with some chairs and benches to make do.
In small counties like this, you may not have other facilities, but the national and local tax offices were always the first to appear. Americans, it seems, are bound by only two certainties in life: death and taxes.
By the time Niall and Frederick arrived at the court, a sizable crowd had gathered—plaintiffs, defendants, and locals. Fortunately, there were no peddlers selling vegetables, or it would have been even more chaotic. The county police had already set up boundaries for the crowd, awaiting the judge and county officials.
Once they took their seats in front of the judge's slightly elevated chair, they set up their materials, waiting for the proceedings to begin.
It didn't take long for Judge Edward from the Second Circuit Court of West Virginia to arrive, carrying documents. The room grew silent at the sound of a few calls for order, and both Niall and Frederick stood and acknowledged the judge.
In Brooke County, with its coal mining industry, what kind of cases could arise? If something did happen, the coal mine owners' security and the workers' union would settle it internally. In fact, decades ago, hundreds of people had died in mining accidents here—some in accidents, others in "friendly" negotiations gone wrong.
Nowadays, the workers had more power and weren't the same weaklings as office-bound white-collar workers. They were like bears in the woods, tough and fearless, ready to stand up against the capitalists.
Outside the mines, the rest of the small towns, including the county seat of Waynesburg, hadn't seen a murder case in many years. There were the occasional petty thefts, but if someone lost a silver dish, it would be known across the county by the next day. With fewer people, there were fewer problems, and the law was simple and clear.
Thus, a circuit court session was almost like a vacation. If there were cases, they'd be handled; if not, everyone could go home.
Judge Edward was in his fifties and looked somewhat stiff. When he came last year, Niall noticed that he was all business—slightly impersonal but also incorruptible. He judged according to the law, with no room for bribery or influence. A strict but fair judge, which was rare in places like this. For the poor and ordinary people, it meant they wouldn't suffer much injustice.
"Let's begin!" The sound of a gavel striking echoed behind Niall.
The first case was soon presented, and Niall couldn't help but recognize the plaintiff—it was a familiar face, a man who worked with Niall's late father. He couldn't quite recall his name, but the face was unmistakable.
The case was titled "Avers v. Brooke County Administrative Committee."
One of the county commissioners explained the case: why would a humble miner file a lawsuit against the county government? The reason was simple—he had no other option.
Three years ago, the miner's daughter was left orphaned after the miner, like Niall's father, died in a mining accident. The mine owner had paid $1,500 as compensation to the girl and her mother, but her mother had run off with a man, abandoning her daughter. The girl was left alone, and Avers, a neighbor and coworker of the deceased miner, had taken her in temporarily. He now wanted to send the girl to an orphanage, but the county refused to allow it, claiming that since the girl still had a mother (who, despite being absent), the girl should be cared for by her.
After three years of delays, the girl had grown to twelve years old, and Avers, desperate, had no choice but to file a lawsuit to ensure the girl would have a place to stay.