A Force of Nature, a Model Worth Emulating: Remembering Ruth Burg
Steven L. Schooner
Ruth Burg found me early, still a law school student, and never let go. Looking back, much of my professional life reflects that relationship, and I’ve never let go of her example. In my own way, I’ve attempted to cement her legacy by teaching and creating opportunities for the next generation of government contracts students and alumni at the George Washington University Law School and others that walk in her footsteps.
I’ll leave to others the Herculean task of summarizing Ruth’s extraordinary accomplishments, the glass ceilings she shattered, and the honors bestowed upon her. (Let it be known however, that even though she is one of the University’s Monumental Alumni, here at GW Law School, we claim Ruth as our own, because she graduated number one in the class of 1950 and distinguished herself as a jurist and bar leader.) But there’s little doubt that her never-ending commitment to opening doors for others remains the foundation of her legacy.
If you knew Ruth, you heard some version of the story in which, at an ABA Section of Public Contract Law Section event, someone complained about the long, slow line outside the women’s restroom. Ruth was quick to explain that the line gave her immense joy. She much preferred waiting to the cold and quiet loneliness of the same restrooms that she frequented early in her career.
Ruth was the first woman to chair the Section of Public Contract Law, and many followed in her footsteps. And look no further than this journal’s current and prior ABA editors-in-chief: currently Tara L. Ward, and before her, Pat Wittie and Karen Manos. Concurrently, over the last two decades, women students have consistently served as the student editors-in-chief of the Public Contract Law Journal (including one ten-year consecutive streak).
A favorite anecdote derives from Ruth’s reputation, while serving as an administrative judge on the Armed Services Board of Contract Appeals (ASBCA), of never shying away from the big or difficult cases. While many remember Ruth for her work on, for example, the massive shipbuilding cases, she also penned the decision in the highly controversial cost principle and Cost Accounting Standards (CAS) mash-up that played out in the Federal Circuit’s Rice v. Martin Marietta. After a partial 3–2 split among the board judges (a rather unusual occurrence at the time), I was assigned, briefed, and later argued the appeal while serving at the Department of Justice. The standing-room only crowd at the Federal Circuit argument evidenced the significance of the case. But more to the point here, Maryanne Lavan was on the opposing brief, representing Martin Marietta. That Maryanne would go on to serve as the long-standing general counsel of Lockheed Martin, the world’s largest defense contractor, no doubt made Ruth smile. We came a long way during Ruth’s remarkable life.
As for her well-known and formative efforts as a mentor, so many of us tell a similar story. In an article about mentorship and role modeling that I published a number of years ago, I explained:
During my second summer in law school, while clerking at the Armed Services Board of Contract Appeals (ASBCA), I was caught off guard when Judge Ruth Burg came to my office with rather direct advice. First, she directed, it was imperative that I become a student member for the American Bar Association’s Public Contract Law Section. Second, I must write an article to compete in the Section’s writing competition. I did what I was told. And, along with a generation of government contracts practitioners, I benefited from Ruth’s mentorship. I won the staggering sum of $300 in the writing competition. . . . More important, I began meeting the community of government contracts practitioners—experts, mentors, colleagues, and friends—with whom I would interact for the duration of my career.
Many decades later, I can’t count the number of these stories I’ve heard. Ruth saw the best in us, and she encouraged (nay, demanded) that we could do more. And, under her watchful eye, we did.
When Ruth passed, I reread her autobiography, My Book of Ruth, which chronicles a remarkable life journey. Other than an impressive list buried at the end of the text, her curated history doesn’t dwell on the day-to-day professional (or legal) work that gave her the platform that she ultimately enjoyed. Fortunately, innumerable resources are available for those unfamiliar with Ruth’s career trajectory and achievements. Rather, what jumped off the pages was not just how much more important family was to Ruth than any of her professional accomplishments or how different everything was, particularly in the 1930s through the 1950s. Indeed, my sense was that Ruth wrote the book for her children and grandchildren to give them a window into how far she had to come for them to be where they find themselves today. And, yes, to make clear that they should celebrate the line outside the women’s restroom at their next professional event.
The Section of Public Contract Law celebrates Ruth at an annual luncheon. Here at GW Law, since the 2019–2020 academic year, we’ve annually awarded a scholarship to, and bestowed the honorific of Ruth Burg Scholar upon, a GW Law student. Notifying the student, and introducing the student to our alumni, gives us an opportunity to remember and commemorate Ruth’s legacy while sustaining Ruth’s lifelong effort to advance the professional development of young attorneys.
I’m grateful that Ruth considered me worthy of her time, interest, energy, enthusiasm, and care. She was sui generis, a force of nature, and an inspiration. May her memory be a blessing.