Because I felt so estranged from the writing community in the midst of my case against the Times, I organized a group of authors—writers who had written at least one book—in Washington. However, the Authors Dinner Group, which later grew to a stable of nearly 100 published authors, remained stag—men only. A few years earlier, we had tried a co‑ed group, but members started dating each other, which caused some hard feelings and eventually destroyed the group. In the end, the women authors, led by author Barbara Raskin, went in one direction; the men went in another, specifically to the Ratskeller of The Old Europe restaurant in the Glover Park section of town for our twice-a-year conclaves.[1]
These author dinners—as well as my Thursday night poker group and other friendships—helped me to keep my sanity in the midst of another horrible period of my life.
In a profession where people generally do not wish each other well, I wanted to surround myself with people who do.
Prior to the oral arguments before the U.S. Court of Appeals in Moldea v. New York Times, I had my first and only argument with our lead counsel, Roger Simmons. Nearly every article written about the case had highlighted and even tried to limit our dispute to the use of the term "sloppy journalism," in lieu of the actual provably false facts contained in the review—for example, what I did and did not say about Los Angeles Rams' owner Carroll Rosenbloom's death.
I had come to believe that as long as the "sloppy journalism" count remained in our complaint, the media would continue to portray me unjustly as a thin‑skinned author with "a wounded ego," and that the entire foundation of our case would still be misunderstood, as well as misrepresented by the media and the courts.
I asked Simmons—as well as my other lawyers, Steve Trattner and Ed Law—to consider conceding the Times's point that the term "sloppy journalism" was, in fact, a statement of non‑defamatory opinion, which would force the Times, the media, and the courts to start dealing with the specific errors in the review, the provably false facts.
Although very concerned with the severe thrashing I was taking in the press, Simmons refused, arguing that Eskenazi's use of the term "sloppy journalism" had been based on the specific provably false facts contained in the review. Thus, Simmons reasoned, if Eskenazi's errors were defamatory, then the broad conclusions which summed them up—like the term "sloppy journalism"—were defamatory, as well.
In the end, Simmons won our argument, persuading me that we had to continue to fight the battle over the term "sloppy journalism," regardless of how much grief I was taking for it.
On September 14, 1993, Simmons was nothing short of spectacular, stressing our now‑united point of view during the hard‑fought oral arguments against the Times's attorneys before the three‑judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit in Washington.
When Simmons, Trattner, Law, and I walked out of the courtroom, we were absolutely jubilant. But, then, seeing Bruce Sanford and the Times legal team conferring in the hallway, we quickly straightened up and tried to be humble. As we shook hands with Sanford and company, we saw the looks in their eyes.
They looked scared and rightfully so. Simmons had just smacked them down in open court, and we were now expecting a big win.
ENDNOTE
[1] In 2006, the Authors Dinner Group became co-ed once again.