"Like many of his law graduate peers during the period, Swanson never turned in the paper that would have allowed his degree to be conferred. The program required one year in residence and then completion of a thesis, the latter of which usually occurred after the student had left Grounds. That was the path Swanson followed: completing and passing the eight classes he chose to take during the year — despite not being required to take any — and working on the paper after his time at UVA. While Swanson’s communications with Buckler indicated he had every intention of completing his draft paper, the Robert H. Terrell Law School in D.C., where Swanson wanted to teach, closed in 1950. This would have eliminated his immediate need for the degree. Plus, there were the demands of practice. One case no doubt consumed much of Swanson’s time as he transitioned from law school life. In June 1951, he took up the defense of Albert Jackson, a black man accused of raping a white woman in Charlottesville. Swanson argued that Jackson’s confession had been obtained under duress. Following the man’s conviction, at which the court sentenced him to death, Swanson appealed to the Supreme Court of Virginia along with the counsel of Hill, Martin, and Robinson. The appeal was unsuccessful, and Jackson was put to death in August 1952. The Virginia Law Weekly interviewed Swanson in 1951 about the case. The article reported that Swanson “feels an advocate for his race and has a deep sense of responsibility wherever his services are needed, whether in the courtroom or in the community.” After private practice in Martinsville and Alexandria, Swanson entered public service in 1961 as an attorney for the Internal Revenue Service. Commissioner Mortimer Caplin ’40, Swanson’s professor at UVA during his first year on the faculty, hired Swanson after Robert F. Kennedy ’51 helped renew their connection. Swanson worked for the IRS until his retirement in 1984. He died July 26, 1992, at his home in Kensington, Maryland. Swanson’s official portrait is now on permanent display at the entrance of the Law School’s Arthur J. Morris Law Library. The location, fitting for a man remembered as an avid reader, is perhaps the most traveled spot in the building."