Where’s the Courthouse?
By B.J. Brockett

I had been practicing in Oklahoma City about nine months when I was sent by my employer to the Murray County Courthouse on a motion docket.  I had been to Sulphur several times, but had no idea where the courthouse was.  I did recall from earlier visits a large, red brick building in the east part of town.  I had in mind that this building was the courthouse when I arrived in Sulphur on that late spring morning of 1963.

I drove to the red brick building. There was a large sign out front, something to the effect of “VFW Hall.” I sat in my car, motor running (gas was much cheaper then), and pondered my next move. It was already warm outside, so I kept the car windows up and the air conditioning on. 

As I sat there, thankful that I had arrived sufficiently ahead of the 9 a.m. docket call to allow time to find the courthouse, I saw a young boy, perhaps 12-14 years old.  He was coming up the street in my direction, licking on an ice cream cone most likely purchased at a nearby Dairy Queen.

I rolled the car window down and called to him, “Young man, can you tell me where the courthouse is?” He paused, took a few steps toward me and said politely, “Pardon me?” I repeated, “Can you tell me where the courthouse is?” 

He cautiously closed the remaining distance between us. Peering through the car window, undoubtedly curious as to what kind of a pervert he had encountered so early in the morning, he replied, “Sir, I don’t know if we have a whorehouse in this town.”

Mr. Brockett practices in Oklahoma City.