We lost another good lawyer this week

One of the most famous trial attorneys of the 20th century and a proud son of Wyoming, Gerry Spence, died overnight Wednesday, at the age of 96. Spence was a legend among the trial bar — especially for his civil practice and criminal defense work.

In 1988, after a year as lawyer defending insurance and asbestos companies, on a whim I actually applied to work for Spence, Moriarity and Schuster in Jackson Hole Wyoming. Strangely, they agreed to meet me.

A girl I had been dating, Julie, now my wife of 37 years, and I drove from Seattle to Jackson Hole for an interview. We fly fished along the way and went white water rafting with Gerry’s son, now also a lawyer. I thought the interview went well and that Jackson Hole might not be too bad.

When I got back to Seattle, I thought I would seal the deal by sending overnight a frozen 30 pound King Salmon to the firm. Unfortunately the fish arrived on a Friday after all had left and it sat in the July heat until Monday.

Well, let’s just say a stinky fish did not improve my employment prospects. I was a bit depressed, but I pushed along. Julie and I eloped about a month after.

After my success in the Jack-in-the-Box E. coli Outbreak, I was in high demand to speak to groups of lawyers. I was asked to speak in 1995 to the Wyoming Trial Lawyers. After my speech. Mr. Spence, who was in the audiance, walked up to me and said: “I remember you – you’re the fish guy.” And, then he also congratulated me on the cases outcome.

I think about how random opportunities are in life and in death. Not getting the job was a disappointment, but hey, I got the girl and did some fishing – not bad.

Years ago, when my father was failing before he died, I was reading him some of Ernest Hemmingway’s short stories. The Nick Adam’s stories always reminded me of the fishing lessons I struggled through with dad when I was a kid. As struggled during Thursday night and into Friday day and evening, I was reading him this part of “The Big Two-Hearted River:”

There was a long tug. Nick struck and the rod came alive and dangerous, bent double, the line tightening, coming out of water, tightening, all in a heavy, dangerous, steady pull. Nick felt the moment when the leader would break if the strain increased and let the line go.

The reel ratcheted into a mechanical shriek as the line went out in a rush. Too fast. Nick could not check it, the line rushing out, the reel note rising as the line ran out. With the core of the reel showing, his heart feeling stopped with the excitement, leaning back against the current that mounted icily his thighs, Nick thumbed the reel hard with his left hand. It was awkward getting his thumb inside the fly reel frame.

As he put on pressure the line tightened into sudden hardness and beyond the logs a huge trout went high out of water. As he jumped, Nick lowered the tip of the rod. But he felt, as he dropped the tip to ease the strain, the moment when the strain was too great, the hardness too tight. Of course, the leader had broken. There was no mistaking the feeling when all spring left the line and it became dry and hard. Then it went slack.

His mouth dry, his heart down, Nick reeled in. He had never seen so big a trout. There was a heaviness, a power not to be held, and then the bulk of him, as he jumped. He looked as broad as a salmon.

Nick’s hand was shaky. He reeled in slowly. The thrill had been too much. He felt, vaguely, a little sick, as though it would be better to sit down.

The leader had broken where the hook was tied to it. Nick took it in his hand. He thought of the trout somewhere on the bottom, holding himself steady over the gravel, far down below the light, under the logs, with the hook in his jaw. Nick knew the trout’s teeth would cut through the snell of the hook. The hook would imbed itself in his jaw. He’d bet the trout was angry. Anything that size would be angry. That was a trout. He had been solidly hooked. Solid as a rock. He felt like a rock, too, before he started off. By God, he was a big one. By God, he was the biggest one I ever heard of.

I have always thought of guys like my dad and Gerry Spence as one of those very large trout.

Republished with permission from Bill Marler and Marler Clark. Copyright (c) Marler Clark LLP, PS. All rights reserved.

Source: https://www.marlerblog.com/case-news/we-lost-another-good-lawyer-this-week/