Henry County attorney reflects on 58 years practicing law

Durell Whiddon peruses the documents in the red folder as he stands near the bench in the courtroom of the Henry County Courthouse.

In a few minutes, the assistant district attorney will find a defense attorney carrying his own folder. They will step to the side and speak in low tones to keep from interrupting court, or they will retire to a room behind the courtroom to talk about a settlement in the case. Whiddon will make an offer and the attorney will counter, and the two will engage in a legal dance that usually ends with a compromise with which the two can live. Whiddon will place some more documents in his red folder and the two will take it to the judge.

In some ways, the legal process is the same as it was 58 years ago, when Whiddon passed the bar and earned his law license. There are discussions with defense attorneys, offers and counteroffers. But in many ways, Whiddon navigates a legal world today far different than the one that existed in the middle of the 20th century.

“It’s changed, seems like, twice over,” said Whiddon, who is 83.

Whiddon has spent most of his 58 years prosecuting cases in Henry County, a job he has held part-time for about the past 50 years. He still maintains a private civil practice he started with “Dink” Halstead in Headland in 1952.

His office reveals the evolution of legal practice, from the old case law volumes on the shelves to the computer, printer and scanner on his desk.
“I swore I would never go to computers,” Whiddon said.

But he eventually did, adjusting to new technology in the same way he adjusted to new law. Over the years, he became one of the most recognizable and respected men in Henry County.

“I almost call him the governor of Henry County,” said District Attorney Doug Valeska, who has worked with Whiddon for 32 years. “He’s one of the last of the last, a true Southern gentleman. He has class and acts with manners. All lawyers should learn from him because you can’t get that experience out of a book.”

Whiddon said more has changed than just the law. He said the introduction of drugs into southeast Alabama has been the biggest contributor to the explosion of crime here.

“When I came here, ‘white lightning’ was about the only form of a drug you had here,” Whiddon said. “When you had a case on the docket — and they were very few — it usually had something to do with making it.”

Now there are hundreds of cases that are brought before each grand jury session. Many deal with drugs.

And Whiddon said he never worries about having prosecuted an innocent man.

“I don’t look back,” he said. “I don’t think you can do your job well and keep looking back.”

Whiddon said he spends about 20 percent of his time prosecuting and devotes the rest of his time to his private practice. He could have retired several years ago, and almost did when a hip injury slowed him. However, surgery improved his condition and he sees no reason to stop practicing.

“I enjoy what I do,” Whiddon said. “I feel very comfortable when I’m in the office.”

But Whiddon admits he has slowed over the years. He said he has two jury trials scheduled on the next docket, likely his last.
At times, Whiddon said, he loses his train of thought. He pauses, regains composure, pauses again. Sometimes he forgets his point and has to move on before it comes to him again, out of the blue. Arguing in front of a familiar judge is one thing. Arguing in front of a jury that is being wooed on the other side by a young whippersnapper is another thing altogether.

“Not knowing from day to day how you’re going to stack up in there can be tough,” Whiddon said.

One day, Whiddon may clean out his desk, box up his law degree and the pictures of his grandchildren, and go home. Until then, there will be plenty of red folders waiting for him at the Henry County Courthouse.