By David Weiland (Law ’92), SJCL Board of Trustees Member
The United States Supreme Court Bar was first established in 1790. Since that time, thousands of attorneys have had the honor of being admitted. As of June 5, 2025, I am proud and humbled to be counted among them.
This milestone carries a significance I had not fully grasped in my youth. As a child, I considered becoming a lawyer. I was accepted to UC Berkeley and then planned to enroll at any law school that would take me. Life charted me a different course. Years later, I returned to that early aspiration and enrolled in law school in 1988 - not as a young undergraduate, but as an experienced civil engineer ready to begin anew.
For my second act, I attended night classes at San Joaquin College of Law, then located on Shields Avenue near First Street. My journey was not glamorous, but it was intentional. I graduated in May 1992, passed the July bar exam, and secured my first client by December. That moment marked the beginning of a legal career that would prove to be deeply fulfilling. Over the next thirty-two years, I practiced in every California state court and appeared before the Eastern, Central, and Northern District federal courts. I successfully argued appeals before both the California Court of Appeal, Fifth District, and the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit. It has been a career built not on spectacle, but on steady work, quiet discipline, and the belief that doing the job well is its own reward.
These three decades have affirmed what I already knew to be true: San Joaquin College of Law equips its graduates for meaningful and lasting careers in the legal profession. I am proud to count myself among its alumni. Admission to the California Bar opens many professional doors, including membership in the American Bar Association, which I joined in 1998. Through my involvement with the ABA’s Senior Lawyers Division, I was given the opportunity to apply for admission to the United States Supreme Court Bar. With the generous sponsorship of Fresno attorneys Timothy Jones and Stephen Cornwell, my application was approved. I traveled to Washington, D.C., for the swearing-in, joined by my wife, Lillian, and our daughter, Julia.
The experience exceeded every expectation. On June 4, the ABA hosted a formal dinner for the applicants and their guests, offering us the chance to meet one another and hear stories from those who had practiced before the Court. Our host, who was responsible for sponsoring our group, took the time to ask each applicant how to pronounce their name properly. I gladly and politely explained that my last name is pronounced “WHY-land.” Throughout the evening, I had the opportunity to speak with attorneys from across the country. Among them was Danielle Borel, President of the ABA Young Lawyers Division, whose warmth and graciousness stood out. She and Julia formed a fast bond over dinner, and that connection would matter the next day more than we realized.
The morning of the ceremony began early, at 7:30 a.m., on the steps of the United States Supreme Court. We had arrived early to take photos, even with scaffolding covering the stately facade. Security was extensive and thorough as attendees were escorted inside in groups of twenty through multiple screening stations. All electronics, wallets, purses, and keys were required to be locked away. We were warned that anyone found inside the chamber with any prohibited items would be detained at the local jail for twenty-four hours. We did not test the policy.
The ABA also hosted a buffet breakfast in one of the Court’s large conference rooms. At approximately 9:30 a.m., Chief Justice John Roberts entered the room, preceded by a man wearing a bulletproof vest. Luckily, our table happened to be near the door. Chief Justice Roberts stood beside us and welcomed the group with brief remarks about what to expect. Without his robe, he appeared more like a cordial colleague than the leader of the highest court in the nation. That understated demeanor made his presence all the more powerful.
Shortly afterward, Clerk of the Court Scott Harris entered the room in full formal attire and provided a clear briefing on courtroom procedures. The ABA group was not the only one being sworn in that morning, and the courtroom, with space for only one hundred public guests, was already full. That was when we learned that guest attendance would be limited due to last-minute security changes. Without hesitation, Ms. Borel stepped in and ensured that Julia was allowed to enter. What might have seemed like a small kindness on her part had a lasting impact on our family.
Guests were escorted into the courtroom first, leaving us, the soon-to-be inductees, to wait. Lillian and Julia later confided that their assigned seats were so squeaky they were afraid to move, lest they be escorted out. Soon, my fellow inductees and I were called to line up. Just ten feet from the chamber doors, we passed through two additional rounds of screening before being permitted to proceed.
We entered the courtroom, and I felt a deep sense of reverence. Our names were read aloud, state by state, and the room was nearly silent. The chamber was majestic. Towering columns rose from polished marble floors. A crimson velvet curtain framed the justices’ bench. The formality, the scale, and the symbolism combined to produce a gravity that even thirty years of courtroom experience had not prepared me to absorb.
Just after ten o’clock, the nine justices entered the chamber. We rose to our feet. The Chief Justice gave a subtle wave and smile, and we returned to our seats. Despite the warm smiles from several of the justices, the seriousness of the moment was unmistakable. Before the swearing-in began, six cases were announced. Associate justices read summaries of their majority opinions from the bench. It was a vivid reminder of where we were, and why we were there.
A few attorneys were admitted individually, including one nominated by his father. That gesture brought an unexpectedly personal note to an otherwise formal occasion. Then came the turn of our ABA group. As each name was read - and carefully pronounced - we stood. When the Clerk of the Court administered the oath, we affirmed our commitment to the Constitution of the United States.
The ceremony concluded within moments, but the weight of that moment will remain with me for the rest of my life.
Outside the courtroom, Lillian and Julia met me with hugs. The moment felt complete. We visited the gift shop, gathered a few souvenirs, and spent the rest of the day sightseeing in the city we love. A global parade was taking place that same afternoon. The contrast between the freedom celebrated in the streets and the solemnity experienced within the courtroom was striking, and it was not lost on us.
On the flight home, I considered what it might have been like to reach this milestone earlier in my career. I suspect it would not have held the same meaning. Some things are richer when they arrive later, shaped by time, perspective, and the people who matter most.
Thanks to San Joaquin College of Law, to the ABA, and to everyone who helped make this journey possible, I now carry a credential I long hoped for, briefly deferred, and will always be proud to hold.