Walking into District Attorney Tim Curry's office on the fourth floor of the Tarrant County Justice Center for the first time, a visitor can hardly miss the antlers. They seem to be everywhere. A glass coffee table is supported by several pairs made into legs; more antlers frame a large oval mirror over a couch. "I used to hunt a lot," Curry explained, with a deep sigh. "If you like 'em, I'll leave 'em to you in my will." He did not smile.

Sitting stiff as a poker behind a large mahogany desk that is remarkably free of clutter, the 63-year-old Curry looked as sorrowful as an old basset hound. If a rare smile cracked the weathered lines around his mouth, it never quite erased the deep melancholy of his eyes. Wearing a well-cut, deep-blue dress shirt, a silver and blue tie knotted at his neck, his gray hair slicked back, the district attorney for the last 30 years of one of the state's most populous counties could just as easily be imagined in faded overalls singing along with the Soggy Bottom Boys, "I am a man of constant sorrow. ..."

Sunny Dickson Curry, his wife of more than 20 years, died in 1999 at the age of 49 after a long series of illnesses. Her loss, the primary reason for the sadness that seems to envelop him, left a hole in his life that only work can fill, he said. NEXT »

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