Fulton’s ‘Judge Penny’ sees TV as ‘extension of my ministry’
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Monday, October 13, 2008
On Thursdays, Judge Penny Brown Reynolds liked to finish court by noon. But last month, on her last day on the bench in the state court of Fulton County, the clock was ticking toward 1 p.m. and she was nowhere near finished.
“I’ve never had court last this long,” she mused. “Is this my big send-off? You don’t want me to leave! This is the most bizarre day I’ve ever had!”
Joey Ivansco/jivansco@ajc.com
Judge Penny Brown Reynolds, who recently received her degree in divinity, reflects as her husband Edward Reynolds addresses his congregation.
Joey Ivansco/jivansco@ajc.com
Reynolds delivers a sermon at her husband’s church, Midway Missionary Baptist Church in College Park.
"Family Court With Judge Penny," Weeknights at 6 p.m., UPN 69
After eight years as a state judge, life may get more bizarre for Reynolds now that she’s a TV personality. “Family Court With Judge Penny” debuted last month in syndication across the country, including weeknights at 6 p.m. on the local CW affiliate WUPA-TV/69.
Reynolds’ show came after a guest appearance on “Dr. Phil” early last year to talk about postnuptial agreements. TV producers began courting her. She said yes only after she finished her divinity degree.
“We saw her on Dr. Phil and she just popped off the screen,” said “Family Court” executive producer Stephanie Drachkovitch. “She took over the whole show.”
Ratings for “Judge Penny” have been encouraging so far in cities that air her show. Though overshadowed in Atlanta by the evening news on WSB-TV and WAGA-TV, the show is doing better than sitcom repeats previously in that time slot on WUPA. And among women 25 to 54, “Judge Penny” beats WGCL’s news program, “Seinfeld” and “The Simpsons.”
“I am so grateful by the response so far,” Reynolds said last week. “Americans are suffering right now. I feel my show is an extension of my ministry.”
Reynolds, 47, who became an ordained minister in the spring, fashions herself as a cross between straight-talking Judge Greg Mathis and life-affirming Oprah Winfrey.
“I’m the judge who doesn’t judge,” she said. “I’m there to judge circumstance and fact, not to judge people. I go beyond the verdict and seek a solution. I always go into a case hoping to see if I can get some sort of reconciliation.”
Indeed, the show feels more like a therapy session than a court case.
For instance, on one show a wife wants to have a legal contract stating how much sex she should have with her husband. He wants more.
“She was in an abusive situation as a younger person,” Reynolds explained. “She wasn’t able to bond with her husband. Sex is about intimacy. I sent them to counseling. She was able to free herself, and they didn’t need a contract.”
Reynolds’ persona in real court is indistinguishable from that of her TV persona: stern, but empathetic. On her final day at the Fulton County courthouse, she sifted through relatively minor cases such as domestic abuse, DUIs and shoplifting.
One defendant said he could only be in court Wednesdays and Thursdays because of his job. “You know doggone well that you can’t dictate what day of the week you can show up in court,” Reynolds said with a withering glare.
But she also isn’t above making a joke, even at her own expense.
After squinting at a defendant in the back of the room, she puts on her glasses. “I was trying to be cute and not wear my glasses.”
To a homeless man arrested for disorderly conduct near the Martin Luther King Center, she asked wryly, “Do you think that’s keeping up with his dream?” When the man complained about being homeless, she said, “I know about it. I slept in a car.”
Reynolds’ warmth is shaped by her own tough childhood as one of four daughters of a poor single mom in New Orleans. At husband Edward’s church earlier this month, she gave a fiery 45-minute sermon at the Midway Missionary Baptist Church in a working-class neighborhood in College Park. For Reynolds, that service was a coming home of sorts after a long stint in Los Angeles taping shows.
“Just as Dorothy did in ‘The Wizard of Oz’,” she told the 200-plus parishioners, “I click my heels three times and say there’s no place like home!”
At times, she’d clank her high heels on the floor, raising her voice to the heavens. Other times, she became contemplative about her own life, how she could have stayed a judge the rest of her life.
“It was a place of comfort to me,” she said. “Then God touched me. I had to go outside those four walls. I resisted. … But God says you have to leave your place. You have to listen to God.”
Then she got teary-eyed. “One good thing about sleeping in a car is my mama told me there’s no place to go but up.” She paused, her voice choking.
“People ask me how does it feel when you see yourself on television. All I see is God, what God has done for me. I stand before you as God’s representative.”
