The law office of Murlene Johnson Randle Specializes in Litigation in the areas of Civil Rights and Employment Discrimination in San Francisco. My firm also provides expert trial attorney services to other law firms.  During my time in private practice, I have represented clients whose cases resulted in multi-million dollar resolutions in San Francisco, CA.

Fighting for civil rights means EVERYTHING to me.  I was born in 1952, on a Plantation in the Mississippi Delta.  There cotton was king, and civil rights did not exist.  My family was sharecroppers, we planted cotton, chopped the weeds in the fields, and picked cotton; we carried our water from running wells to hour three room shot-gun house, or we drunk polluted “pump water”.  A wood burning fireplace was our sole source of heat.  For many years a wood stove was our sole source for cooking.  I also recall the use of ice-boxes, before we got an electric refrigerator.  In the “Jim Crow South”, we suffered these indignities because we were members of a minority class.

 

I would go into the nice house of the “white people” for whom my mother cleaned and wonder why they had nice furniture, plenty of food, gas heat and stoves, and so many books.   I wondered why the “white kids” went to local schools and we (the “colored kid” were bused for hours, even out of the county, to attend crowded “colored schools”).   I wondered why the “white kids” were out of school during the summer, while the “colored kids” whose family were sharecroppers had what was call “split sessions” in school, meaning we were out of school during harvest time to work in the cotton fields, and we attended school part of the summer to make up the time missed in the fall.   I wondered why there were “colored only” water fountains, “colored only” waiting rooms even in the doctor’s office, etc.  Alarming to me was the fact that the doctor would attend to every “white patient”, no matter when they arrived, as compared to the time that the “colored” patient had arrived, before they would attend to any of the “colored” patients.  It did not matter how sick the “colored” patients were compared to the “white’ patients.  Needless to say, the “colored” waiting rooms were tiny compared to the spacious “white” waiting rooms.  Consequently, most of the “colored” patients were forced to stand for the duration of the time that they waited to see the doctor, no matter their physical condition.

 

I witnesses a highway patrolman follow a black boyfriend of my sister to our house on the plantation.  I witnessed him pull this young teen-ager out his car, and proceed to beat him severely.   I watched as my stepfather, a black man, stood in fear for his own life as he tried to ask the white patrolman what this was all about.  I heard the white patrolman say to him “boy if you want to live, you will stay on that porch and mind your own business”.  I stood in fear for our friend, who was beaten, in fear for us all, and in shame that we could do NOTHING!  I still recall that feeling to this day.

 

I watched my stepfather turn to alcohol for false hope and consolation; I witnessed him take out his frustrations on my mother, through acts of violence and rage.  I later watched my mother turn to alcohol in silent rage.

Nonetheless, I grew up with a determination, planted in me by my mother – who was a teenage mother – that I would and could make a difference in my life and the life of others through education and hard work.  Thanks to hard work, and the help of other, I have accomplished many of her dreams for my sister and me.

 

Every day of my life I recall the personal inequities of my past.  Through my many years as a prosecutor I fought for the right of those who had no voice – the victims.  Now, I am fortunately able to continue my fight for equality as a Civil Rights Attorney.