So it was September of 1988, and I was working away happily as a drone at an insurance defense firm in the Grove. Wifey was pregnant with D1, and we were preparing for the birth, as well as what was to be a 3 month loss of Wifey's income as a flower sales rep. She was making $50K a year, and my salary was $36K, but three months with just my salary was going to be doable. As it turned out, the three month sabbatical lasted decades, other than a part time gig in the late 90s to early aughts.
I got a call from my mentor Ed, my dear friend Mike's Dad. Ed was the top appellate lawyer in town, for PI work, and said "There's a seat open at Ed R's office -- I think you ought to take it."
I knew who Ed R was. He was a wildly successful lawyer. I had gone to law school with his daughter Randy, who worked at the firm doing probate and guardianship work related to the PI claims. Ed was ironically called "Mr. Nice" since he was such a badass MF to litigate with.
I met with Ed, and his minority partner Frank, as well as the senior associate, Paul. I've toldl the tale often of my initial reluctance to leave the stability of where I was, even for a nice salary increase, but the absurd haughtiness of my senior partner, who I'll call Cal David, since that's his name, proved too much for my already keen bullshit meter, and I made the jump. Later, Cal would join a firm in Lauderdale and then be disbarred.
I fit in right away. Paul became a big brother, Ed a father figure, and Frank sort of in between. We lunched together daily, and socialized often. And Ed -- well -- he was the closest real person to Jay Gatsby I ever met.
He was a Brooklyn kid relocated to Miami Beach and a Korean vet who went to UM on the GI bill. He opened a firm with an early devotee of marijuana, but with sheer brilliance, moxie, and force of will, built an amazing practice of huge cases. He was fearless. He was one of the true geniuses in Law I ever met.
I always remember the time Bill S, who referred many Mexican nationals to the firm, brought in a poor worker who was in a wheelchair. The fellow had been working on a roof of a house in Doral, picked up a piece of plywood, which acted as a sail when the wind gusted, and pulled the hapless fellow to the ground. I saw it as a clear Worker's Comp case, but Ed decided it was more -- the builder, a major corporation, should have had netting up to protect workers.
This was Ed's standard of care, not Florida Law's, but with sheer force of will, and putting the fear of an eight figure verdict into the mind of defense counsel, we settled for seven figures. I was amazed. Ed said simply: "David -- I create castles in the sky. When the defense lawyer argues with me about the color of the drapes, I know I have him."
It was one of many lessons I never forgot.
Ed was also a world class hunter and fisherman. Luckily, I avoided having to go hunting with him, but did go on his yacht many times -- fishing locally and the Bahamas. Paul, who used to have to tag along, was happy I replaced him in that regard -- he was no fan of fishing at all.
Ed also had planes -- an Aztec, later a King Air, and finally a Lear. I came pretty close to death in the King Air, on a routine flight to Tampa, and it taught me that when I actually DID face death (Ed's friend and experienced pilot Bill, who had been in actual crashes, said later it was the closest he had come to dying, too), a calm came over me, so that I needn't fear death again.
Once, during one of the many absurdly expensive meals Ed paid for, Paul asked how he could afford to always order the finest food and best wine. Ed replied: "You can't afford NOT to."
He lived big, based upon, as Fitzgerald wrote, his own Platonic creation of himself. And I learned to truly savor the good life from him -- to this day, flying Business, and eating well.
His long time secretary Dolores called today, to share the news that Ed had died. He actually passed on July 21, but the Herald obit was coming out today, and Dolores knew I was a reader of them, and felt I should hear from a fellow friend, instead of the paper. I appreciated it.
Paul had a long chat with Ed probably 5 years ago. I think we last spoke over a decade ago.
In 2002, after Wifey and I moved into our huge ass house, Paul and I hosted a party for Ed, his family, and some close mutual friends. We had just settled a big burn case together, and Paul and I were feeling in the chips as the saying goes.
I had a glass trophy made, that said "Ed -- thanks for the life lessons and memories." I hope he kept it.
Ed wasn't charitable -- except to his family. His views were more Darwinian -- society benefits when only the strongest survive and advance -- let the losers lose. Paul and I disagreed with him on this point. I remember once Paul asked why he didn't establish a scholarship at UM Law -- to help a poor kid like he was in the 50s when he attended there. Ed laughed -- nah -- if he could do it, so could anyone. Scholarships would only help the weak.
Still -- he was, like Tom Wolfe wrote, a man in full. He invented the concept of the bucket list, and it was a deep one. He flew on the Concorde, and returned on the QE II. Was had been, like the Johnny Cash song, "Everywhere, man." And he did it all first class.
Tomorrow night, Paul and I are taking Wifey and Patricia to The Palm -- a restaurant Ed approved of.
We shall toast the man and his memories and lessons. Paul clerked for him starting in 1973, and so worked for him over 20 years. They were closer than Ed and I were -- and I can tell this is a death that will affect Paul greatly.
Still -- bravo, Boss, for a life well and fully lived. May your memory be a blessing.
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