Senate Confirms Alabama Solicitor General Edmund LaCour As Federal Judge
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The U.S. Senate confirmed Alabama Solicitor General Edmund “Eddie” LaCour Jr. as a federal judge for the Northern District of Alabama. The 51-47 vote fell along party lines and fills the vacancy left by Chief Judge L. Scott Coogler, who retired earlier this year.
AdvertisementLaCour’s confirmation caps a string of judicial victories for Alabama’s Senate delegation, following the recent confirmations of former Alabama Supreme Court Justice Bill Lewis and Huntsville attorney Hal Mooty. LaCour has served as Solicitor General under Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall since 2019, leading many of the state’s most high-profile appellate cases.
Among them was Allen v. Milligan, the landmark Alabama redistricting case argued before the U.S. Supreme Court.
His confirmation also closes a political chapter that began five years ago.
LaCour was first nominated to the federal bench in 2020 but was blocked by then-Sen. Doug Jones, who used his authority as Alabama’s home-state senator to prevent the nomination from advancing.
AdvertisementWith the state’s Senate seats now held by Republicans, the nomination proceeded smoothly this time.
President Trump formally nominated LaCour earlier this year as part of a broader effort to fill federal vacancies in Alabama and other southern states.
Sen. Katie Britt, who led the confirmation effort alongside Sen. Tommy Tuberville, called LaCour’s legal record “unparalleled.”
Advertisement“He is admitted to practice before every circuit court of appeals in our nation, as well as the Supreme Court where he has filed more than 100 briefs and argued three cases,” Britt said. “His legal acumen is unparalleled, and I have every confidence he will serve the Northern District exceptionally.”
Tuberville also praised LaCour’s appointment, saying he “has done an excellent job as Alabama’s Solicitor General” and “will continue his great work as a federal district court judge.”
With LaCour, Lewis, and Mooty now confirmed, Alabama’s federal judiciary enters 2026 with new appointments across its Northern and Middle Districts.
The Alabama Attorney General’s Office celebrated the news in a press release.
“Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall today celebrated the U.S. Senate’s confirmation of Edmund LaCour Jr. to serve as a U.S. district judge for the Northern District of Alabama,” the press release said.
“LaCour, who has served as solicitor general in the Attorney General’s Office since 2019, was nominated by President Donald Trump in August,” it said.
“Eddie is a brilliant and principled lawyer who brought a deep respect for the Constitution and the rule of law to every aspect of his work,” he said. “Thanks to President Trump’s leadership, Alabama, and the nation, will continue to benefit from Eddie’s unwavering integrity and exceptional service.”
He continued: “As solicitor general, Eddie left an indelible mark on some of the most consequential legal battles of our time. His unmatched skill and sharp constitutional insight earned him respect at every level of the judiciary, including the U.S. Supreme Court. President Trump could not have made a better choice. We are incredibly proud to see Eddie bring his intellect, humility and dedication to the federal bench.”
“LaCour has served as solicitor general of Alabama since May 2019, following his tenure as deputy solicitor general. Before joining the Attorney General’s Office, he was a partner at Kirkland & Ellis LLP in Washington, D.C., where he represented clients in high-profile matters before the U.S. Supreme Court, federal courts of appeals and trial courts. He also practiced at Bancroft PLLC in Washington and Baker Botts LLP in Houston,” the oress release said.
“A native of Dothan, Alabama, LaCour earned his Juris Doctor from Yale Law School, a Master of Philosophy from Trinity College Dublin, and a bachelor’s degree, summa cum laude, from Birmingham-Southern College. He clerked for Judge William H. Pryor Jr. of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit,” it said.
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.” But the next mo
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.”
But the next morning in the emergency room, the doctor studied my X-ray and immediately called 911—because what he saw… exposed a horrifying truth.
Part One: “It’s Just a Joke”
On my birthday, the room smelled like sugar and candles and cheap champagne. A pink cake sat in the center of the table, my name written across it in looping frosting. Everyone was laughing. Phones were out. Someone shouted for me to make a wish.
My sister stood closest to me.
She grinned, eyes bright with something that wasn’t kindness. Before I could even lean forward, her hands slammed the cake straight into my face.
The impact was harder than anyone expected.
I felt myself stumble backward, my heel catching on the rug. There was a sharp crack as my head hit the edge of the table, then the floor. For a split second, the room spun in white and pink. I tasted sugar—and then iron.
Blood mixed with frosting, dripping down my chin.
People screamed, then laughed nervously.
“Oh my God,” someone said, still chuckling. “It’s just a joke!”
My sister laughed the loudest. “Relax! You’re so dramatic.”
I tried to sit up. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My vision blurred, and the ceiling swayed like it was floating. Someone wiped my face with a napkin, smearing blood across my cheek.
“You’re fine,” my mother said quickly. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
I remember thinking how strange it was that my ears were ringing louder than the music.
I remember the taste of frosting as I swallowed blood.
I remember waking up hours later in my bed, alone, my head throbbing, my phone full of messages telling me not to be “too sensitive.”
By morning, I couldn’t lift my arm.
Part Two: The X-Ray That Changed Everything
The emergency room smelled like disinfectant and sleepless nights. The doctor asked how it happened. I hesitated, then said quietly, “I fell.”
He nodded, unconvinced, and ordered X-rays “just to be safe.”
I lay on the cold table staring at the ceiling, replaying the laughter over and over in my head. It’s just a joke. That sentence hurt almost as much as my skull.
When the doctor returned, he wasn’t smiling.
He stared at the image on the screen for a long time. Too long.
Then he left the room without a word.
Minutes later, he came back—with a nurse, a security officer, and his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I need emergency services. Immediately.”
My heart started pounding. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He turned to me, his voice careful. “This isn’t a simple fall.”
He pointed to the X-ray. Even I could see it—fine fractures branching like cracks in glass, not just in my skull, but along my collarbone and ribs. Old fractures. Healed wrong. Layered.
“These injuries happened at different times,” he said gently. “Some weeks apart. Some months.”
I stared at the screen, my mouth dry.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
He met my eyes. “This pattern isn’t accidental. And the impact that brought you in today could have killed you.”
The word killed echoed in my ears.
“Who did this to you?” he asked softly.
I thought of my sister’s grin. My parents’ laughter. All the times I’d been shoved, tripped, “joked” into walls. All the times I’d been told I was clumsy. Sensitive. Overreacting.
My hands began to shake.
“I think…” My voice broke. “I think it was never a joke.”
Part Three: When Laughter Turns Into Sirens
The police arrived quietly. Calmly. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d seen something like me.
They didn’t accuse. They asked questions.
Who was there last night?
Who pushed you?
How often do you get hurt?
For the first time, I didn’t minimize. I didn’t protect anyone. I told the truth.
By evening, my phone was exploding.
My mother crying.
My father furious.
My sister screaming that I had “ruined everything.”
“You’re exaggerating!” she yelled over voicemail. “It was cake! Everyone saw it!”
Everyone had seen it.
That was the horrifying truth.
Everyone had seen it—and laughed.
The investigation didn’t take long. Videos surfaced. Old medical records were reviewed. Witnesses contradicted themselves. Patterns became impossible to ignore.
What started as a “birthday prank” became an assault case.
What they called humor was documented as violence.
I was moved to a different room that night, monitored closely, safe for the first time in years. As I lay there, ice wrapped around my head, I realized something terrifying and freeing all at once:
If that cake hadn’t been smashed into my face…
If I hadn’t fallen just right…
The truth might have stayed buried forever.
Sometimes it takes breaking something visible to expose what’s been shattered for years.
