Atlanta Injury Law Blog

Saturday morning, at the request of a patient's family  who urgently want to provide for his care needs, I visited an intensive care unit at Grady Memorial Hospital to attempt to interview a man who became a quadriplegic in a recent traffic collision. Laying paralyzed in a bed, breathing through a tube, he was too sedated to respond to a sibling's attempts to wake him. We may have to have a family member appointed by the probate court to handle his affairs.  The previous afternoon, I had met with a father whose beautiful 16-year-old daughter went out on a date, the boy who was driving wrapped his car around a telephone pole, she had a bad head injury, and died a few weeks later in the hospital.  I don't know if the evidence will ultimately be sufficient for me to do any good for these folks, but I will explore all reasonable options.

The seemingly random cruelty of fate is tangible at such times. When I was in my teens, a popular TV show included each week the "flying fickle finger of fate award." It was presented as comedy then, but too often it is part of tragedy.  It seems that nearly everyone I represent has been presented this unwelcome "award."

Sometimes well-meaning people try to say that it was "the Lord's will" or "the Lord took her" when a person was killed or catastrophically injured.  As a long-time adult Sunday School teacher, I think that is warped theology. It's wrong to blame God when people break rules and cause tragedies.  Hurricanes and tsunamis are acts of God.  Truck wrecks are acts of men and of corporations, and they should be held accountable for the harm they cause.

Sometimes we can obtain justice for victims and their families. Other times all we can do is provide the comfort that someone who is knowledgeable cared enough to try. A trial lawyer is called to be more that just a gladiator.  We need to remember that highest source of law and of professionalism is a rule of unselfish love, of sincere concern for the highest good for the other person.  While we are not grief counselors or psychologists, we need to be able to help folks get through the ordeal of their loss.

So often in my law practice, representing ordinary people who have suffered tragic losses due to someone else's carelessness, I have to contend with the arrogance of defense lawyers and corporate functionaries who view humble working people as most of us would view gum stuck to the sole of a shoe.  As a "redneck lawyer" come to town, I have a somewhat different view of the worth and potential of ordinary folks.

Therefore, I take great delight in sharing this video of a lumpy Welsh cell phone salesman with bad teeth surprising the judges and the crowd in a British version of "American Idol."  (Thanks to my friend Jim Long for bringing it to my attention.)

Sometimes a cell phone salesman can come out of nowhere to sing opera that moves the audience to tears.

Sometimes a backwoods hick lawyer like Abe Lincoln can lead a nation through its time of greatest peril and become an enduring icon of democracy.

Sometimes an humble housewife on the brink of poverty, like Susanna Wesley, can raise children who move the hearts of millions and whose followers lead earthshaking movements of social reform.

Sometimes a lump of coal can become a diamond.

And the arrogance of snobs and plutocrats, of any time and place, doesn't change that.

When you find a lawyer on the Internet, there may be an inclination to think of him or her as some sort of free floating, rootless organism, taking all nutrition from cyberspace. This week, however, I have had several reminders of how intertwined professional relationships can be.

First came an inquiry about a potential trucking wrongful death case from a lawyer in my hometown who I have known since we entered ninth grade together in 1965, and for whom I have the greatest personal and professional esteem. 

The next day came a call from a lawyer in Louisiana, who got my name from a prominent New Orleans attorney, originally from a tiny town in south Georgia, who I met at Georgia's Governor's Honors Program in Macon in 1968. In conversation about the caller's largely Cajun hometown, it turns out we had both gone out some with the same girl from that town, who was in his high school class, when we were teenagers.  

The same day came a call from a lawyer in a small town near the Florida line, whose law partner was in the office next to me at an Atlanta law firm starting in 1981, to talk about a potential case.

Then I went downtown to a meeting of the State Bar Disciplinary Rules and Procedures Committee. Looking around the table, I realized that I had known each participant in a wide variety of contexts for periods ranging from ten to twenty-five years.

These days, about half of my legal work comes from new contacts who find me through the Internet and the "newcomer" referral sources that are common in modern metro Atlanta, and about half come through a traditional network of relationships spanning decades and even generations that weave through Georgia and across the South.  It's a fascinating mixture to which only a talented novelist could do justice.

A judge in Queens County, NY, recently wrote a 13-page order awarding double the standard compensation for a sign language interpreter and spotlighting a severe shortage of court-certified interpreters in American Sign Language for the deaf. He noted that even in Rochester, NY, which has the largest per capita deaf population in the country, only a limited number of certified court interpreters are available. (The Rochester Institute of Technology / National Technical Institute for the Deaf, where I will help my daughter move into a dorm next weekend, is there.)

A federal court case in Rochester under the Americans with Disabilities Act a few years ago helped bring about a Deaf Equal Access Fund, in cooperation with the local bar association and an interpreting service, to enable the deaf community to have full access to services of the legal community. That is worth studying as a model for what might be done in Georgia, though I doubt any community in Georgia approaches the concentration of D/deaf population that you find in Rochester.

Because of my daughter (who lost her hearing at 18 due to NF2, got an Auditory Brainstem Implant at House Ear Institute, and spent this summer taking ASL at Gallaudet University), I have begun to learn ASL.  This fall I will be taking ASL classes with my wife two nights a week, subject of course to trial, deposition and work related travel schedules.  Though my ASL skills are still at the unskilled beginner level, and may never become fluent, my daughter has raised my consciousness about the challenges facing the D/deaf and hard of hearing. At least I know how to sign, "old dogs can't learn new tricks."

Twelve years ago I took a little six-year-old first grade boy to his first Tiger Cubs meeting.  He was so bouncy we sometimes jokingly referred to him as "Tigger."  Before that meeting he was literally climbing the structural beams in the walls in the church classroom and tagging the ceiling. The gentleman who was in charge of Cub Scouts for the church said, "there's a future Eagle Scout."   I reckon that over the years he, and usually I, have been through about 450 den, pack and troop meetings, about 40 weekend camping trips, and a most memorable two week backpacking trip at Philmont Scout Ranch. He went without me to numerous weeks of camps and a couple of high adventure trips.

Yesterday a sturdy young man of eighteen, who at the end of this month will fly off to begin college studies -- and college football -- in California, stood in front of a church sanctuary and received his Eagle Scout award.  At the conclusion of the ceremony the often monosyllabic teenager stood alone with his feet firmly planted and talked for about five minutes, graciously and articulately thanking the adult leaders of the troop who had "put up with" him along the way.  Last he thanked "Dad, who told me to keep going when I didn't want to do this any more; he told me when I finished I would be glad I did, and I am glad." Then he came down and gave me a big hug.

There are moments in life you just want to hang on to. This was one.

Here is the Eagle Scout Charge that was administered to my son yesterday afternoon:

I have the honor to give you the Eagle Scout charge on the occasion of your elevation to the highest rank in Scouting.

The Boy Scouts of all nations constitute one of the most wholesome and significant movements in the world's history and you have been counted worthy of this high rank in the Boy Scouts of America.

All who know you rejoice in your achievement. Your position, as you well know, is one of honor and responsibility. You are a marked man. As an Eagle Scout you have assumed a solemn obligation to do your duty to God, to country, to your fellow Scouts and to mankind in general. This is a great undertaking.

As you live up to your obligations you bring honor to yourself and to your brother Scouts. Your responsibility goes beyond your fellow Scouts to your country and your god. America has many good things to give you and your children after you; but these things depend for the most part on the quality of her citizens.

Our country has had a great past. You are here to make the future greater. I charge you to undertake your citizenship with a solemn dedication. Be a leader, but, lead only towards the best. Lift up every task you do and every office you hold to the high level of service to god and to your fellow man. So live and serve that these who know you, will be inspired to the finest living. We have too many who use their strength and their brains to exploit others and to gain selfish ends. I charge you to be among those who dedicate their skills and ability to the common good. Build America on the solid foundations of clean living, honest work, unselfish citizenship and reverence for god and, whatever others say or may do, you leave behind you a record of which every Scout may be justly proud.

On behalf of the Court of Honor of the Atlanta Area Council, Boy Scouts of America, with the high hope that you will always represent the finest of character and citizenship, we welcome you into the brotherhood of Eagle Scouts and congratulate you, your parents and your Scout leaders.

Pass it on, son.