S.F. Public Defender Jeff Adachi Remembered as 'Superman'

San Francisco Public Defender Jeff Adachi, who died suddenly on Feb. 22 at the age of 59, was remembered at City Hall today as a fierce advocate of those without a voice whose work will live on even after his unexpected death.

Adachi served as the state's only elected public defender for 13 years and was known for work that went well beyond the purview of defending indigent clients through his office. He pushed for criminal justice reform around California, and for pension reform in his adopted city. And more than once, he blew the whistle on police misconduct, angering the powerful officers union, which became a permanent enemy.

Hundreds of people packed the rotunda of City Hall to celebrate Adachi at a nearly two-hour ceremony.

"In my 40 years working in the community, I never saw a Japanese-American so beloved by so many people across the city," said Paul Osaki, executive director of the Japanese Cultural and Community Center of Northern California. "He was Japantown's hero — he never said no, he was at every event or cause we needed him at. He was our sansei Superman. ... Fighting for truth, justice and the American way."

But Osaki noted that Adachi didn't just belong to Japantown — he was part of numerous communities across the city, who embraced him as their own.

Mayor London Breed recalled the first time, as a 15-year-old girl, that she met Adachi — not at a political event but at a friend's table, helping the family of someone who had been arrested. Breed, who grew up in a public housing development in the Western Addition that was often plagued by violence, said Adachi was a common sight in her neighborhood — not just as a lawyer, but as someone who just wanted to support the community.

"Every time I needed help, whether I had a friend or a family member in trouble, Jeff was who I called — and if he missed the call, he called back himself. Not an assistant, not a deputy, Jeff himself," Breed said. "I wasn't anybody important. But Jeff understood that making a difference in people's lives wasn't just about working in the courtroom — he knew it started in the community."

That sense of common responsibility drove Adachi, said Matt Gonzalez, Adachi's chief deputy in the public defender's office —  who is currently serving as interim public defender. Gonzalez noted that Adachi often personally defended some of the toughest cases.

"Cases where people say or ask, 'How could you represent those people?' " he said. "The answer to this question, Jeff believed, was in order to really get to it, you had to understand the context, you had to think about the lack of opportunity the accused might have experienced, maybe the violence in their neighborhood, the substance abuse there, the trauma they had to contend with, and if you did that analysis, you realize that your opinion would start to shift."

Gonzalez said he has often witnessed the power that the state can harness to put someone in prison.

"But Jeff would ask, 'Where was society when that young person needed help?' ... Jeff was about exposing that hypocrisy. If you do that, your perspective changes," he said.

Former Mayor Willie Brown perhaps garnered the most raucous applause when he recalled a conversation with Adachi over the city budget, during which Adachi demanded that the public defender's office receive an equal amount of money to the district attorney. He noted Adachi's persistence, in all the things he took on, from criminal defense to moviemaking.

"Jeff Adachi was always there, whether he was invited or not," Brown said to laughter.

Stan Adachi, the late public defender's brother, urged the large crowd to bring his brother's spirit and commitment with them.

"Jeff has now passed the torch to each and every one of us. I ask all of us to take a piece of his spirit, bury it deep in your hearts and your soul, and live your lives with the same passion and love as Jeff lived his," he said.