By Miles Layton

PLYMOUTH — Friday, there was a standing-room-only crowd gathered for D. Cole Phelps’ swearing-in ceremony at the Washington County Courthouse. There were familiar faces – local politicians from both political parties, statewide standard bearers and top legal talent for this historic occasion and to pay tribute to this native son who took the oath of office and put on his judicial robes for the first time in front of a crowd filled with family, friends and the community. 

Why cover this story? 

I’ll tell you: Phelps’ taking that oath – that was a proud moment for all of Northeast Carolina, whether you live in Alligator or Swan Quarter, Plymouth or Williamston, for all of us with the strong desire to make our small towns and region a great place to live.   

A video of Phelps’s being sworn in is included with this story along with a gallery of photos at the end of this story.

Let’s start our story like this – paying tribute to God. 

Before a single word was said about law or politics Friday afternoon, the Washington County courthouse bowed its head in prayer — the best way to start anything, even this story. 

Pastor Don Phelps, the new judge’s uncle, opened the ceremony with a reading from the book of Micah — “what doth the Lord require of thee? But to do justly, and to love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God” — before leading the standing-room-only crowd in a brief prayer asking that D. Cole Phelps be given “a discerning mind” and “an understanding heart” as he took the oath as District Court judge.

It was, by every account, a historic occasion wrapped in faith, family and hometown pride — the story of a boy from rural Creswell, in a town Phelps himself would later describe as having “no stoplight,” rising to a bench that had never before been held by a resident of Washington County.

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The Boy From Creswell

That theme belonged most of all to Phelps himself. After his parents, Michelle and David Phelps, and his grandparents joined him at the front of the courtroom, Phelps delivered remarks that carried the ceremony’s clearest message: that faith, hard work and an unglamorous rural upbringing had prepared him, not despite Creswell, but because of it.

Phelps told the crowd that in the months leading up to his appointment, he found himself praying the same question again and again. “Lord, is this ambition or Lord, is this an assignment?” he said. “Because if it was about ambition or about a title or prestige, I didn’t want it. But if it was about an assignment and being able to serve people, sign me up all day.”

He thanked Gov. Josh Stein for appointing him, and recalled the disbelief he felt calling his mother after learning he had been chosen for an interview. “Mom, can you believe that a kid from Creswell is going to be interviewed by the governor?” he remembered saying. “Even saying those words out loud right now doesn’t seem real. A kid from a town with no stoplight, sitting down with the governor of North Carolina for an interview for a seat to be a judge.”

Phelps spoke at length about Judge Regina Parker, whom he is succeeding and who has sworn him in at nearly every milestone of his public life — as a county commissioner in 2012, as an attorney in 2013, again at his 2016 reelection, and now as a district court judge. “You’ve had a front row seat to my entire journey of public service,” he told her, noting that they had both attended East Carolina University and North Carolina Central School of Law before each returning home to serve.

Much of his address turned to the family that shaped him. He spoke of parents who were 16 and 17 years old when he was born — “kids raising a kid,” he said — and who “never let the odds define my future.” He credited grandparents who ran a children’s home and took in foster children, a grandmother who worked long hours at the Plymouth garment factory and still cleans beach cottages, and a grandfather who spent 30 years working in the state prison system. “None of them had the opportunities that I had,” Phelps said. “None of them had the chance to go to college, but they sacrificed and they made sure that I did.”

He returned, too, to the image that ran through the whole afternoon — a child who had never seen anyone from his hometown do what he was about to do. “If you had told that little boy growing up in Creswell that one day he’d stand in his hometown courtroom and be a district court judge, I wouldn’t have believed you,” Phelps said. “Not because I didn’t believe in myself, but because I had never seen that before. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine what’s possible when you’ve never seen it happen.”

That, he said, was the point of standing there at all. “I hope that there is a little boy or a little girl in Creswell or Columbia or throughout this district — or even will watch this later — who leaves, and they understand that if I can do it as a kid from Creswell, they can do exactly the same thing.”

Phelps closed with a promise about the kind of judge he intends to be. “I’m going to be fair. I’m going to be prepared. And I’m going to work harder than anyone expects me to,” Phelps said. “Justice should not depend on who you are or where you come from.”

Phelps ended his remarks by turning his thanks back to the community that filled the courtroom. “I love the opportunity to live and work here, and I am so honored to have the opportunity to serve as your District Court Judge,” he said. “For the last 13 years, I’ve had the privilege of standing beside people during the hardest days of their lives, and they’ve taught me more than you can ever imagine. I will never forget that, and I will take that with me to the bench. Thank you again for coming out today. I’m so grateful.”

A Historic Seat

Phelps’ remarks capped a ceremony that speaker after speaker described as a milestone decades in the making. Judge Keith Mason, chief district court judge for the Second Judicial District, put the moment in context for the crowd earlier in the proceedings.

“In sixty years, there has never been a district court judge from Washington County,” Mason said. “In fact, there has never been a district court judge from any county other than Beaufort or Martin. So this is a very historic occasion.” 

Brian Phelps, Clerk of Superior Court for Washington County, added that Cole would be the first Washington County resident to preside over a court since 1968. He also offered a bit of hometown wisdom about the path that led there: “In a rural community like ours, the three R’s that you learn in school is reading, writing and the road to somewhere else. For Cole, that R was for turn back home.”

The courtroom Friday bore that homecoming out. Public Defender Laura Neal Gibson recognized a room full of sitting and former judges, superior court justices, sheriffs, clerks, mayors and county commissioners, along with former N.C. Supreme Court Chief Justice Cheri Beasley, Secretary of State Elaine Marshall and U.S. Rep. Don Davis. Mason, only half-joking, told the crowd there was “probably more” legal talent assembled in that room “than has ever been assembled in this courtroom.”

Brad “Cornbread” Congleton, a friend of more than twenty years going back to their days together at East Carolina University, offered a lighter, more personal picture of Phelps than the dignitaries who spoke before him. Congleton, who was student body president while Phelps served as attorney general, recalled Phelps as the kind of person who never took anything at face value. “The first time he came into our meeting, he immediately started asking questions,” Congleton said. “I would say this is what we’re going to do. He was like, well no, what about this? I was like, who’s this guy? Loved to always ask questions. Still does.”

Congleton said Phelps told him back then, as a junior in college, exactly what he intended to do with his life — go to law school, come home, and serve his community. “Guess what? Where we at today?” Congleton said. He added that the friendship had held through setbacks as well as milestones. What started as a college partnership, he said, had “quickly turned into a brotherhood.” “I couldn’t be more proud and honored to be here in support of him today,” Congleton said. “Cole, I love you, brother.”

Advice From the Bench

Much of the ceremony took the shape of counsel passed from the judges who came before Phelps to the one now taking a seat beside them.

Judge Teresa Freeman, chief district court judge for the Seventh Judicial District, told Phelps that the bench “is not simply a seat of authority. It is a place of service,” one that “calls for wisdom over impulse, patience over expediency, humility over pride and justice over personal opinion.” She reminded him that “no one is ever fully prepared for every challenge that awaits on the bench,” and that preparation “is not measured by knowing every answer” but by “the character, discipline and judgment to seek the right answer.” When uncertainty comes, she told him, remember three options: “take a recess, take it under advisement or make the order temporary.”

Former Dean Phyllis Craig Taylor of the North Carolina Central University School of Law, who called Phelps a student with “an undeniable calling” to leadership and service, cautioned him not to confuse the two things he would now be asked to balance. “Justice can seem very distant,” she said. “It is often quiet, and it seems to be pushed into the background. But as a judge, if you continue to seek truth, demand impartiality, provide fairness, offer respect, justice can come to the party.” She added a warning she said she hoped he would carry with him: “I urge you not to mistake the rule of law for justice. Applying law is not justice. Law is a tool. So use your tools and use it.”

Former NC Supeme Court Chief Justice Cheri Beasley, who said she met Phelps when he was still a law student “deeply eager and excited” and “incredibly persistent,” told the crowd she was confident he would “bring a fresh perspective to the bench” and would treat every case not “as some esoteric document or digital file” but as a matter involving real families and small businesses. She reminded the room that Phelps must stand for election in November and urged those gathered to become “ambassadors” for his service across the district.

“That’s Pride”

U.S. Rep. Don Davis, who represents North Carolina’s First Congressional District, told the crowd he had watched Phelps build a career defined by service long before this appointment. “It’s been a labor of love,” Davis said of the years leading up to Friday. “It’s a reflection of a life of service, truly a life of service.” Davis recalled that even Phelps’ law practice was never just about winning cases. “He said this is about being a counselor,” Davis said. “It’s just not about representing the client, it’s those conversations beyond the courtroom.”

Davis said Phelps’ rise mattered far beyond Washington County, at a time when so many young people leave rural Eastern North Carolina and don’t come back. “Not only did Cole come back, he came back to make a difference,” Davis said. “This kid from Creswell, North Carolina — I mean, that’s pride. We have to reinstill hope with our young people that they can do it. They can be like Cole.” He reminded Phelps that the bench he was about to take “belongs to the people,” adding, “I know, without any doubt in my mind, that you’ll put your heart and soul in representing the people with fairness and justice.”

Secretary of State Elaine Marshall, who oversees the notary and business-filing systems that ultimately certify every judge’s commission in North Carolina, told Phelps he had already proven something rare for a struggling rural county. “You’ve proven that wrong,” she said, referring to the “brain drain” of young people who leave home for an education and believe they can’t make a living back where they started. “It is important that every county in North Carolina thrives.”

Marshall also used her turn at the podium to pass along a lesson from her own years as what she called “a country girl lawyer” in Harnett County. She recalled the best judge she ever appeared before, one who made sure every party in the courtroom understood the reasoning behind a ruling. “There are too many people that don’t have trust in the courts,” Marshall said, “because they think that there’s some deal or something that happened behind closed doors.” Even losing parties left that judge’s courtroom satisfied, she said: “Now they weren’t happy, but they were heard.” She closed with a bit of secretarial trivia that drew laughter from the crowd — that her office, not the governor’s or the chief justice’s, provides the only “wet signature” required before any judge in the state can take the bench. “I am the first person that knew he was officially going to be a judge,” she said.

A Final Charge

It fell to Judge Mason to send Phelps off with a final charge. Setting aside the lighter quotes he had sprinkled through the ceremony, Mason offered one from Socrates that he called his favorite of the day. “Four things belong to a judge: to hear courteously, to answer wisely, to consider soberly and to decide impartially,” Mason said. “In my mind, those four things are the essence of being a jurist. And it’s no accident that the first one of those is to hear courteously. We’re told that if people feel like they have been heard, they are much more willing to accept judgments.”

Mason told Phelps he did not know how long he would hold the seat — “whether you will be a judge for five months or four years and five months or 24 years and five months” — but said he was certain of the moment’s purpose. “You have been called to this office at this time and in this place to serve the people of the second judicial district,” Mason said. “Remember that you have been commissioned with an awesome power to do good.” He closed by pairing the words of Socrates with a charge drawn from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s use of the book of Amos: “Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

As Phelps took his seat on the bench for the first time, the courtroom he filled — judges and justices, a sitting congressman, a secretary of state, sheriffs and mayors, and the family who raised him in a town without a stoplight — stood as witnesses to what several speakers called, simply, a homecoming.

Gallery — click photos to enlarge