John Doar: Civil rights attorney dies at 92

NEW YORK CITY — Those familiar with the nation’s history, especially the decades of the 1960s and 1970s, likely know the name John Doar. Doar was a civil rights attorney who worked in the U.S. Department of Justice, fighting for racial equality and desegregation. He also was special counsel to the House of Representatives committee that investigated the Watergate scandal; he advised the impeachment of then President Richard Nixon.Aside from his life in Washington, D.C., and New York City, Doar lived in the Harlem Valley, with a farm in Pine Plains on Tripp Road and another in Millerton, at the intersection of Route 83 and McGhee Hill Road.A giant in his specialized field, Doar died on Tuesday, Nov. 11, at the age of 92. The cause of death was reported as congestive heart failure.“He had a great, great life and was very tired of being 92,” said son Robert Doar, adding his father loved farming and building stone walls nearly as much as he loved being a civil rights attorney. “He was multidimensional, that’s for sure, and while he was a great lawyer, he was also a great lover of the countryside and the Hudson Valley, especially the eastern side.”“He was a great man,” said Pine Plains resident Peter Caldwell, a close friend of the Doar family. “He was very solid on principle, and when he went south to do the work that he did he was 150 percent committed and dedicated. He was really instrumental in reversing the tradition of disenfranchisement of blacks in the South. He was pivotal in that.”In recognition of his work Doar was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom (this nation’s highest civilian honor) in 2012 by President Barack Obama.That work included the investigation of the murder of three young civil rights workers, James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, in Neshoba County, Miss., in 1964. The case inspired the 1988 film, “Mississippi Burning,” and led to a 1967 trial of 17 men in federal court. That trial was noted for Doar and his colleagues drawing confessions and testimony from paid informers who had made it into the inner circles of the Ku Klux Klan. In total there were seven convictions in the case, including a Neshoba County deputy sheriff and the head of the KKK in Mississippi.Doar was involved in the 1965 march for voting equality that went from Selma to Montgomery, Ala. When a white volunteer named Viola Liuzzo was murdered, it was Doar who prosecuted three Klan members; they were sentenced to the maximum of a decade in prison.Doar also lent a hand in Jackson, Miss., during what could have turned out to be a major race riot. Hundreds of black marchers armed with bottles, bricks and stones came head-to-head with police officers, who had their weapons drawn. It was reported that Doar stood between the two sides, identified himself, and then said, “My name is John Doar — D-O-A-R. I’m from the Justice Department, and anybody here knows what I stand for is right.”Eventually the angry crowds disbanded.Doar was also involved in another historic moment, being among those who accompanied James Meredith — the first black man to attend the University of Mississippi — onto the university grounds and into his dormitory. He was committed to the desegregation of the South, and remained with Meredith over the course of several weeks.“I think he was most proud of the civil rights division of the U.S. Justice Department,” said son Robert. “He went there in 1960 as a Republican in the Eisenhower administration and was allowed to stay after the Kennedys came to town, and he helped build a really important force for good.”“If I were getting up to the [memorial] service, I would have talked about how John was one of the people who left the world a better place,” said Caldwell’s wife, Jane Waters. “I think he lived knowing the importance of integrity,” said Caldwell. “He was very solid on the fundamentals, and he had a superb reputation for the work that he did.”When Doar bought a farm in Pine Plains in the late 1960s, Caldwell said the two families just gravitated toward each other.“He came up to the country to give his children the opportunity for the enjoyment of the country, and his kids came up on weekends as did mine,” said Caldwell. “They were all good friends, and it gave them wonderful country exposure. He was from Wisconsin, and we didn’t want to raise our children in concrete.”And while Caldwell ultimately retired to Pine Plains, Doar remained a weekender, living in Manhattan but visiting as often as he could. His family still owns about 300 acres in the area according to Caldwell, who remains in touch with Doar’s children, Robert, Michael, Burke and Gael.Upon Waters’ suggestion, son Robert went on a date with Millerton’s Sara Schroeder, daughter of the late Harry Schroeder and his wife, Julie.“Jane said, ‘You really ought to look up Sara,’” said Caldwell, adding that both Sara and Robert were working for different local newspapers at the time. “One day in the fall he came here to tell us that he invited Sara to dinner one night to meet his family.”The pair eventually married and started a family of their own.“It was nice for me to meet a girl over the hill on [Route] 22,” said Robert, adding the connection to the Harlem Valley continues today. “We loved Dutchess County and that part of the Shekomeko Valley. We’ve been there for a long time, from ’70 to 2014 — 44 years.”“I was just delighted,” said Julie Schroeder of her daughter’s marriage to Robert. “I was happy for both of them; it was kind of a whirlwind romance … but I couldn’t ask for a better marriage. “The Doars have been just wonderful to the Schroeders,” she added. “They always include us, especially after I lost my husband. They’ve been very kind and considerate.”Schroeder added that she was “very saddened” by the news of Doar’s death, and said it was “a real loss.”“I know a lot of local people who just adored John,” she said. “It’s quite a loss and I’m still having a hard time accepting the fact that he’s gone. He was a kind person; you’d never know that he was so distinguished and that he had accomplished so much and was so critical to civil rights progress in this country.”Doar continued his work with such projects as investigating Watergate (Doar was a Republican, which was reportedly part of the House of Representatives’ rationale for choosing him to investigate the case) to starting his own practice, Doar Rieck Kaley & Mack.He also defended Eastman Kodak when the company was charged with “monopolizing the amateur photography business,” according to The New York Times.“During that trial, he learned that one of his co-counsels in the firm of Donovan, Leisure, Newton & Irvine had confessed to failing to turn over a witness’s notes. Mr. Doar immediately notified the judge and the opposing counsel. The jury awarded $3 million to the Kodak competitor that had brought the suit,” explained The Times.Caldwell said he once praised Doar and his legacy, and was not surprised by the modesty his friend exhibited.“I said [you are] wonderful, marvelous, heroic,” said Caldwell, “and he said, ‘Not really. I just did what I thought was right.’ He was modest and not grandiose, but very capable, and very talented and very highly regarded.”In 2009 Doar was interviewed by C-SPAN. He spoke about the challenges of the past and hope for the future.“Countless black citizens in the South couldn’t vote,” Doar said. “They were second-class citizens from cradle to grave. The discrimination was terrible, brutal. And to think, you know, that’s over. It’s done.”That reality is due in no small measure to Doar and his legacy — and will be remembered as such in the history books as well as in all the places Doar called home.