By Spencer Farris, The Levison Group
On February 14, I returned to the Levison Towers after 5 o’clock. The partners had all skeedaddled home. If history is any indicator the partners clutched the gifts that their secretaries had purchased for them to give their significant others. The associates were out for dinner. Many of the desks still have flowers on them and the scent of roses almost overpowered the general mustiness wafting up from the old carpet. Almost.
I had spent the last two days in a jury trial in rural Missouri. Although the calendar said Valentine’s Day, I believe it was Valen -Zen’s day.
Gentle Reader, forgive me if this column is a little bit personal. To be honest I’m writing it in part so that I can tape it into my own scrapbook to remind me how good today feels.
Zen is not an easy thing for a trial lawyer to achieve. We are gunners. We see ourselves as gladiators. In the words of Ricky Bobby’s dad, if the trial lawyer is not first, he’s last. Considering that 50 percent of the lawyers in every trial lose, Hallmark should market “Sorry you came in Second” cards.
I have always told folks that I wasn’t worth anything in the office for three weeks after I’d won a trial and two weeks if I lost. Smart lawyers have told me for years that a trial lawyer who measures himself by wins and losses doesn’t get it. Debbie, my friend who’s a defense lawyer and a seasoned trial veteran offered me that bon mot as salve after a loss once. I didn’t like it. Stuart Thomas, trial lawyer and Zen master has said it for years. Even Rhonda, wife of one of the best trial lawyers I know has preached Zen to me. But up until today, I couldn’t get my head around the concept.
Without bragging, I can say that I tried this case as best I could. I was prepared and I presented every possible fact to the best advantage of my client. I listened and seized the little opportunities that present themselves in every trial. My clients were appreciative of the effort and told me so, both before and after the verdict.
The high point of my day however came in visiting with the judge after the courtroom emptied. The judge practiced as a trial lawyer for more years than I have and is reputed to have known his way around the courtroom, representing clients from both sides of the versus. Each time I have been in his courtroom I have observed his patience with pro se litigants and difficult lawyers alike. After the trial, he told me that he appreciated a trial lawyer who was willing to go to court and try his client’s case. Even when the facts were as bad as these were. (I am pretty sure he meant the bad facts part as a good thing.)
I’m still just as idealistic about being a trial lawyer as I was at the beginning of my career, some two decades ago. I’m disgusted by the notion that the business side of the law overshadows the professional aspects too often. Whether it’s stupidity or just bad business practice, I believe that the promise we make to a client to represent them means going the distance if necessary. The fact that the man in robes thought the same thing tells me I’m not wrong.
Although litigation is an adversarial sport, I didn’t view it that way this time. I offered my young opponent assistance with presentation equipment and read a deposition with him. For once, I recognized my opponent as more than just an adversary. He’s a fellow trial lawyer.
I was disappointed when the verdict was read. 12 citizens of this fine county spoke and their message was clear — get out of town. I felt bad for my client. He has suffered through no fault of his own.
This is not a tale of woe, however, and I don’t feel sorry for myself. I kept my promise and did my job to the best of my ability. On Valen-Zen’s day, I’m able to say that that is enough.
As we left the courthouse I saw the defense lawyer and his client in the parking lot. I intruded on their conversation long enough to tell the defendant that his lawyer did a fine job and he should be proud of the representation he got. I offered him a handshake that he refused. That’s okay. Zen is an acquired taste.
When I got back to the office there were some cupcakes in the kitchen. They were my favorites — chocolate with white icing, as though the Universe was giving me an atta boy. Even though cupcakes are nowhere on my diet, I ate one. I can always watch my weight tomorrow. After all, Buddha was fat wasn’t he?
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Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. Whether it is Zen or Karma, he is still seeking enlightenment. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via email at comments@levisongroup.com.
© 2013 Under Analysis L.L.C.
