Judge Stuart Namm. Courtesy Photo.

Judge Stuart Namm, a one-time Suffolk County jurist who was driven from the bench for shedding light on prosecutorial and police misconduct, has died. He was 89. He died of natural causes on November 30, his family said. Known as the "Serpico Judge," Namm made waves during his term on the bench in Suffolk County, exposing police perjury in several murder cases and asking two separate New York governors to investigate county law enforcement. The State Commission of Investigation finally did so under then-Gov. Mario Cuomo, issuing a scathing report castigating Suffolk County homicide and narcotics detectives as well as prosecutors for misconduct and lambasting their lack of interest in the systemic issue.

Judge Stuart Namm. Courtesy Photo.

While no charges were ever brought, then-Suffolk County District Attorney Patrick Henry did not run for reelection, and many in leadership positions at the Suffolk Police Department resigned. While he would eventually be recognized for his deep commitment to justice—receiving the American Bar Association's Justice Thurgood Marshall Award, the New York State Bar Association's David S. Michaels Memorial Award, and an honorary lifetime membership in the NAACP—he was passed over for re-election in 1992. He subsequently moved to North Carolina. He kept his New York law license active, but never returned to the bench. "He loved being a judge, that was his dream," his son Gary Namm said in an interview. "He believed that when he raised his right hand, he took an oath. He did that in his religious training, and did that for the U.S. government, as a lawyer, and as a judge. And he took that oath very seriously." Born in Brownsville, Brooklyn, in October 1933, to Paul Namm, a pipe fitter at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and Lilian Kramer Namm, he grew up on Legion Street, attending PS 150 and then The City College of New York. Growing up during the Great Depression, Namm's family battled poverty, his son Gary Namm said in an interview. But that poverty is what led his father to the law. "For their dates, they would sit in the back of night court and observe," Gary Namm said of his parents' courtship. "It was at no cost [to them] and became a pastime. They spent many a Friday night date in that courtroom." The judge overseeing many of those proceedings was Thurgood Marshall. Namm and his high school sweetheart Lenore Rhona Abelson married on Christmas Day in 1954. Namm served in Korea, as a First Lieutenant Army Ranger in the 17th Infantry Brigade. After the war he worked for the Federal Trade Commission as an Attorney Examiner, frequently investigating Timex commercial shoots in which spokesman John Cameron Swayze performed stunts, his son said. His job was to ensure the watches were still ticking (they were). While at the FTC, Namm attended the Brooklyn Law School Night Program. After receiving his law degree in the early 1960s, the family moved from Brooklyn to Stony Brook. He briefly practiced law out of the family's home before joining the firm Baranello, Block & Namm as a partner. His partners were Dominic Baranello, the Democrat power broker, and Frederic Block, who would go on to become a federal judge in the Eastern District of New York. "He loved trials, loved picking juries, loved everything about that experience," Gary Namm said of his father's time as a criminal lawyer. "I couldn't wait to go with my dad and observe him in the courtroom." But he always wanted to be a judge. He was approached and ran as a Democrat in the then-conservative Suffolk County in 1975. The vote was close— 34 votes—but after three recounts he was declared the winner. He quickly gained a reputation as a pro-prosecution judge, earning nicknames like "maximum Stu," and "the hanging judge," for his hard-lined sentences. "He entered the court system as a judge, as very much a law and order advocate. He believed D.A.s and police could do no wrong," Gary Namm recalled. "But then case after case, he was seeing a pattern of innocent people being brought to trial either with forced confessions, or shabby or dishonest evidence. This wasn't Day One; the light bulb started to go off for my dad probably 5 or 6 years into his time on the bench." In 1984, while overseeing the trial of a young black person, Namm noted black jurors were being kept out of the jury pool. Soon after, he observed that Suffolk County Homicide was losing key notes or pieces of evidence. Certain cases hinged heavily on the testimony of jailhouse witnesses who then received reduced sentences. The accused were beaten into confessing. Namm contacted Gov. Hugh Carey, his son said. And then Gov. Mario Cuomo. "I became Public Enemy Number One," Judge Namm told the Star News in 2014. His car was keyed, he was hissed at, and shunned by colleagues. Gary Namm said his parents received death threats. Subsequently, the county's Democratic organization—led by his former law partner Baranello—refused to back him for re-election in 1992. At the time, The New York Times referred to the snub as "a political cross-endorsement deal." "Having his robes removed truly broke his heart," Gary Namm said. Namm and his wife moved south, and she died in 1996. He married Nancy Namm in 1997, and the two traveled the world and started a company called Legal Eagle Productions making documentaries.

Judge Stuart Namm. Courtesy Photo.

And then he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, which inspired him to write a book about his experience. "His early cancer diagnosis did get him to see that he wasn't living forever and this story needed to be told," Gary Namm said. The book, "A Whistleblower's Lament: The Perverted Pursuit of Justice in the State of New York," was published in 2014. Namm went on to beat that cancer, and two other forms of cancer, his son said. But Namm remained bitter. And he kept an eye on law enforcement in Suffolk County. "It wasn't that he was a grouchy, angry man," Gary Namm explained. "He just really felt that you shouldn't lose your dream by doing the right thing." He said his father called him when former longtime Suffolk County District Attorney Thomas Spota was convicted in 2019 of obstruction, witness tampering, and conspiracy. "He saw Spota for who he was more than two decades before most others," the son said. "His conviction affirmed my father's multi-decade concerns about him." Namm is survived by his widow, Nancy Namm; three children, Gary Namm, Keith Namm, Suzanne Wolonick and her husband Dr. Richard Wolonick; six grandchildren, Rachel Correia, David Namm, Joshua Wolonick, Jason Wolonick, Julia Namm, and Rebecca Parker; and four great-grandchildren. He is also survived by two siblings: Sandra Hurwitz and Dr. Joel Namm. Memorial services will be private, the family said, but donations can be made in their father's memory to the University of North Carolina Cancer Center.