Weaver was elected to the vacant post, which deals mainly with traffic violations and small claims, last Election Day. The job was open because the incumbent had died in 1991. There were no candidates because the town of Randolph (pop. 2,613) had voted to eliminate the position at the end of 1993—but had to list it on the ballot for legal reasons. Egged on by friends at a local truck stop, Weaver thought, "Gee, maybe I should run." He checked with the Board of Elections to see if he needed a law degree and got reassuring news: "I just had to live in the area and be over 18."
He did no campaigning. He didn't even tell most people he was running. And voting for the first time in his life, he wrote in his own name—and won in a l-to-0 landslide. "I was floored," he says. Now, although some in town feel he should resign, Weaver is determined to be the best justice he can be. "A lot of people look at me as a 21-year-old kid and not a justice," he says. "I have to show them I can do this."
Since his election he's been going to the town's turn-of-the-century courthouse to observe his distinguished colleague, Justice Jeffrey Gustafson, 46. After Weaver passes his six-day state training course, he'll be all set to start judging. In the meantime, though, he's upset that the town—which didn't expect to have a new justice on its hands—is offering to pay him only $30 a week, compared with Gustafson's $166 a week. Maybe he needs to consult a lawyer—a real one.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
