LITTLE ROCK, AR – The halls of the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Arkansas have grown noticeably quieter. The clatter of case files, the murmured conversations between attorneys, the steady rhythm of a well-run machine—all of it now carries an undercurrent of grief. Forrest Dunn, a beloved and respected clerk at the federal courthouse in Little Rock, Arkansas, has died by suicide, leaving his family, colleagues, and the wider legal community shattered by a loss that has prompted both deep sorrow and urgent conversations about the hidden pressures faced by those who serve the wheels of justice.

Forrest Dunn was, by every account, a model public servant. For over a decade, he worked behind the scenes—unseen by the public, unmentioned in news articles, but absolutely essential to the functioning of the federal court system. He was the kind of employee who arrived early, stayed late, and never once complained. He knew the rules, respected the process, and treated everyone—from senior judges to nervous pro se litigants—with the same quiet dignity. His death has not only left a void in the courthouse but has also raised difficult questions about mental health in high-stakes, high-stress legal environments.

A Career Dedicated to Justice

Forrest Dunn began his career at the United States District Court in Little Rock more than twelve years ago. Starting as a docket clerk, he quickly proved himself indispensable, earning promotions and the trust of multiple judges. At the time of his death, he served as a senior courtroom deputy, a role that required him to manage the flow of cases, coordinate with judges’ chambers, assist attorneys, and ensure that every procedural requirement was met with precision.

In the federal court system, clerks like Forrest are the unsung heroes. They are the ones who make sure that filing deadlines are met, that exhibits are properly logged, that juries are seated correctly, and that the machinery of justice never grinds to a halt. It is demanding, detail-oriented work, often performed under tight deadlines and significant pressure. A single mistake can delay a trial, impact a defendant’s rights, or create logistical chaos.

Forrest rarely made mistakes. Colleagues describe him as meticulous, almost to a fault. “He had a photographic memory for court rules,” said Sarah Whitmore, a fellow clerk who worked alongside Forrest for six years. “You could ask him about a civil procedure rule from 2014, and he would cite it verbatim. But he was never arrogant about it. He would just quietly help you fix whatever was wrong. He was the person everyone went to when they didn’t know the answer, because they knew Forrest would know.”

Judge Margaret Hollingsworth, who presided over cases in the Little Rock division for nearly two decades, issued a statement on behalf of the bench: “Forrest Dunn was the embodiment of professionalism. He served this court with integrity, humility, and an unwavering commitment to the rule of law. His passing is a profound loss not only to his family and friends but to the entire federal judiciary in Arkansas. We extend our deepest condolences and our support to all who are grieving.”

The Man Behind the Docket

Those who worked with Forrest describe a man who was reserved but never cold, professional but never distant. He had a dry wit that would emerge at unexpected moments—a quiet comment during a tense trial break, a perfectly timed eye roll during a particularly absurd filing. He was not the loudest person in the room, but his presence was steadying.

“There was a calmness to Forrest that I have never encountered in anyone else,” recalled Michael Tran, a prosecutor in the Eastern District of Arkansas who frequently appeared before the court. “You could be in the middle of a chaotic hearing—attorneys shouting, deadlines flying—and Forrest would just be there, quietly making sure everything was logged, everything was recorded, everything was correct. He was like the foundation of a house. You don’t see it, but without it, everything collapses.”

Outside of work, Forrest was known to be an avid reader of historical nonfiction, a fan of classic films, and a devoted volunteer at the Arkansas Foodbank in Little Rock. He was not a man of extravagant hobbies or grand gestures. He found joy in simple things: a well-brewed cup of coffee, a quiet evening with a book, a long walk along the Arkansas River Trail. Friends say he was deeply private, and that he rarely spoke about his own struggles.

The Hidden Battle: Suicide and the Legal Profession

The news that Forrest Dunn died by suicide has sent shockwaves through the Little Rock legal community, but it has also highlighted a grim reality: those who work in the legal profession—lawyers, judges, clerks, and support staff—face disproportionately high rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide.

According to studies from the American Bar Association, lawyers experience depression at rates nearly four times higher than the general population. Law students report suicidal ideation at alarming levels. And while less data exists specifically for court clerks, those who work in high-stress, high-volume judicial environments report similarly elevated rates of burnout and mental health challenges.

“The courthouse can be an incredibly stressful environment,” said Dr. Laura Hendricks, a Little Rock-based clinical psychologist who has counseled legal professionals for years. “You’re dealing with life-altering decisions. You’re managing tight deadlines. You’re exposed to trauma—criminal cases, family tragedies, civil disputes that have ruined lives. And there’s a culture in the legal world that says you have to be stoic, you have to be tough, you can’t show weakness. That culture kills people.”

Colleagues of Forrest have since revealed, in hushed conversations, that he had been struggling privately for some time. He had lost interest in hobbies he once loved. He had become even more quiet than usual. He had stopped joining coworkers for their occasional after-work dinners. But no one, they say, realized how deep the darkness ran.

“I wish I had asked more questions,” one colleague said, tears in her eyes. “I wish I had said, ‘Forrest, are you okay?’ I just assumed he was tired. We were all tired. I didn’t know he was drowning.”

The Day the News Broke

The United States District Court in Little Rock learned of Forrest Dunn’s death on the morning of May 14, 2025. The news was delivered in a brief, somber email from the court administrator: “It is with profound sadness that we inform you of the passing of our colleague, Forrest Dunn. He was a valued member of this court for over twelve years. Grief counselors will be available in the conference room on the third floor.”

The courthouse came to a near standstill. Hearings were postponed. Judges released juries early. In the hallways, grown attorneys wiped tears from their eyes. Clerks hugged each other. The weight of the loss was immediate and overwhelming.

Chief Judge Patricia M. Smith ordered that the American flag outside the Richard Sheppard Arnold United States Courthouse be flown at half-staff. In a memo to all court employees, she wrote: “Forrest was not just an employee. He was a friend, a mentor, and a model of what it means to serve this institution with honor. We will not forget him. And we will use this tragedy as a call to do better—to look out for one another, to ask the hard questions, and to break the silence around mental health in our profession.”

A Community Mourns

Outside the courthouse, an impromptu memorial has taken shape. Flowers, handwritten notes, and small mementos have been placed on the steps. One note, written on a yellow legal pad, reads: “Forrest – thank you for helping me file my first pro se motion. You were kind when you didn’t have to be. I am so sorry.” Another, from a fellow clerk, says simply: “I will triple-check every docket entry for you. I will never forget what you taught me.”

The Pulaski County Bar Association issued a formal resolution of condolence: “Forrest Dunn served the cause of justice with distinction. His death is a tragedy not only for his family but for every person who believes in the fair and efficient administration of law. We recommit ourselves to supporting the mental health of all who work within our legal system.”

A GoFundMe campaign, organized by Forrest’s family, has raised over $25,000 to cover funeral expenses and to establish a mental health support fund for court employees. The page reads: “Forrest was a private soul who gave everything to his job and to the people he loved. He struggled in silence. We hope that by sharing his story, we can help others find the courage to speak up before it is too late.”

Funeral Arrangements and How to Honor His Memory

A memorial service for Forrest Dunn will be held on Friday, May 23, 2025, at 2:00 p.m. at Roller-Chenal Funeral Home, located at 13801 Chenal Parkway, Little Rock, AR 72211. A private interment will follow at Pinecrest Memorial Park in Alexander, Arkansas.

In lieu of flowers, the family has requested donations to the Arkansas Lawyers’ Assistance Program (ALAP) , which provides confidential support for legal professionals struggling with mental health and substance abuse issues, or to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (now 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline).

The United States District Court has also announced that it will establish the Forrest Dunn Memorial Award, to be given annually to a court employee who exemplifies professionalism, dedication, and quiet service—qualities that Forrest embodied every single day.

Breaking the Silence

Forrest Dunn’s death is a tragedy. But those who loved him hope it will also be a turning point. For too long, the legal profession has glorified overwork and stigmatized vulnerability. For too long, clerks, attorneys, and judges have suffered in silence, afraid that admitting struggle would be seen as weakness.

“Forrest would not have wanted to be remembered as a cautionary tale,” said Sarah Whitmore, his colleague and friend. “But if his death can save even one person—if it can make one law student reach out, one judge ask their clerk if they’re okay, one courthouse post a list of mental health resources—then his life will have meant even more than we already knew it did.”

Final Words

Forrest Dunn is survived by his parents, Robert and Linda Dunn of Conway, Arkansas; his younger sister, Emily Dunn-Morris of Fayetteville; and a wide network of colleagues, friends, and fellow public servants who will carry his memory in their work every day.

He was not a judge. He was not a famous lawyer. He was a clerk—a quiet, steady, indispensable force for good in a system that often overlooks those who keep it running. And he will be missed beyond measure.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out. You are not alone. Help is available.

Call or text 988 (Suicide and Crisis Lifeline) for free, confidential support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In Arkansas, you can also contact the Arkansas Crisis Center at 1-888-274-7472.

Rest in peace, Forrest Dunn. Your watch is over. You served with honor.