Mark Levison, The Levison Group
With fall comes a sense of nostalgia. It also brings a renewed sense of optimism. I don’t know if it’s the cleaner, less humid air; I don’t know if it’s the increasing signs of hot days leaving; maybe it’s the hope that the boys of summer will still be batting the ball around the diamond in the autumn, or maybe even it’s an instinctual remembrance of fall harvests of old. This fall’s arrival seems even more heartening than those of the past. Maybe it’s because the economy is showing some minor signs of life, or perhaps it’s just relief after the hottest July in U.S. history. Of course, autumn is always a harbinger of change — the interim between summer and winter — and this year change is personal.
This summer, after a dozen years in a large firm, I changed jobs. I seem to always appreciate where I am, but like today’s baseball players, lawyers move around more than they used to, and like the fall, change is invigorating. The firm I joined has a proud history of bar and community leadership. It celebrated its 100th anniversary last week with a large street gala, complete with food, lights, music and speeches. After reading a proclamation declaring Lashly & Baer Day, the mayor talked about what politics and law were like in our city a hundred years ago.
Lashly & Baer is headquartered in an old downtown bank building it purchased a long time ago. Walking through the front gate — sculpted by well-known artist, Ernest Trova — one senses other times crisscrossing with the present. Art is everywhere. From the first floor atrium it is hard not to look down at the huge bank vault door, which opens to the library. Inside the vault/library is a newspaper rack where attorneys can pick up newspapers attached to poles on the rack. When I started practicing young lawyers did a lot of work in our library and it contained one of those newspaper racks. It may be the same one. The library was a communal spot where we met, researched using real books, helped each other, and told tall tales. The Lashly library space is not used much anymore. Most lawyers do their research alone in their office on their computers. As always, “for everything we take with us, we leave something else behind.”
The founder of the first firm I joined, Tom Guilfoil, died this year. He was a man who loved being a lawyer and had a lot of pride in the profession, like some of the senior lawyers here at Lashly. Maybe, the newer lawyers feel that way too, or at least will in time. We will see.
The old bank building that houses my new firm is adorned with marble and walnut. Ceilings are vaulted and some have plaster relief. The brass and wood elevators look as if they are from another time, but their modern motors move at today’s speed. Conference rooms contain fireplaces, old bank teller windows and pictures of firm founding fathers. The lawyers lounge has comfortable furniture reminiscent of older days. There is a fourth floor patio overlooking the city, and a bar. It was nice showing off the firm, its lawyers and its historic building during the celebration. When asked about the firm, I bragged about its 100 years, and explained I’d been working very hard here and was steeped in the firm’s tradition — for around two months. Even though I am new at the firm, the best part of the party was getting to talk to the clients, my fellow lawyers and some of the judges that stopped by.
It’s interesting to join a law practice that in some ways reminds me of the first firm I joined. Back then the practice of law seemed new and my knowledge of the law seemed minimal. I might know more now, but then sometimes the more you learn, the more you learn what you don’t know.
After the party I headed home to relax in my own old fashioned library. That room features a re-installed fireplace hearth removed from the boyhood home of T.S. Eliot. My wife, Cheryl, recently added a moose head above T.S. Eliot’s fireplace — not exactly my taste — but we’ll leave that for another time. As expected these days, the house is “wired” for wi-fi. My second-year law student step-son spends lots of time doing law research on his computer, but when I arrived home, he had apparently entered the library to pay his respects to his mother’s new taxidermal phenomenon. Peeking through the library pocket doors I saw him opening glass cabinet doors and examining, of all things, some old law books. The view seemed reminiscent of an explorer dusting loose dirt away from an ancient relic. His world of practicing law will be different from mine. Most of his communications with the court, his fellow lawyers and even his clients are likely to be electronic. My new firm has all the wonders of the electronically charged and changed world, but I’m hoping the physical ambiance, a remembrance of past days, also reminds us that an important part of the law is still talking to people. With fall comes a sense of nostalgia. It also brings a renewed sense of optimism.
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Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column. Mark Levison is a member of the law firm Lashly & Baer, P.C. You can reach the Levison Group in care of this paper or by e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com.
© 2012 Under Analysis L.L.C.
