Reflections of a Boston Lawyer

One of my favorite films is "Nobody's Fool."  It is based very closely on a novel by Richard Russo, and stars Paul Newman, Jessica Tandy, Bruce Willis, and Melanie Griffith.  The main character, played by Newman, is an old, washed out, loser of a never-has-been named "Sully."  He is divorced, broke, gimpy, and haunted by the memory of an abusive father.   The film is not your typical box office hit.  There is no action to speak of, no special effects, no killer soundtrack.  What there is is redemption, and a change in audience perception.  For by the time you get to the end of the film, you realize that this old man who never graduated from college, never held a steady job, failed at fatherhood and failed at marriage, has, in quiet, subtle, yet very deliberate ways, healed the broken lives of those around him, and found salvation in the process.  His satisfaction in making a difference in people's lives, without any need for thanks or recognition, is what im

Reflecting further on my last post, I realize it suffers from incompleteness.  While I and others may have experienced a renewed sense of unity and grace in the weeks and months following the horrific events of 9/11, I would be remiss to ignore the dark undercurrent to the national character that still haunts us.  I refer to the demon of racism.  For while many of us came together in a spirit of patriotism and humanitarianism in the wake of our collective tragedy, there certainly were others who began profiling those among us who were visibly different, particularly persons of middle eastern origin.  I did not intend to wear glasses of such a rosy hue to forget my fellow American citizens and foreign nationals who fell victim then, and fall victim now, to racial stereotyping.  Yet I look forward to the day, as a great man once said, when all people are judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character; when profiling, stereotyping and persecuting fellow human

We all remember where we were when we heard about the September 11th attacks.  I was in heavy traffic on the Massachusetts turnpike, heading into Boston.  My wife called to tell me that she was watching t.v. and they reported that a plane hit one of the twin towers.  I envisioned a small plane, maybe with just a pilot and no passengers, and assumed that the collision was an accident.  As she continued to describe the television coverage, she saw a second plane hit the other tower.  It was immediately obvious that it was a terrorist attack. I made my way into the office and found our lawyers and staff in a conference room watching the t.v. news.  Many were visibly frightened, and all were struggling to make sense of the morning events.  We were in one of downtown Boston's taller buildings, and I tried to reassure myself and those around me that our building, tall though it was, was an unlikely target for terrorists.  From many of our conference rooms and offices we could see Logan

Characters in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" play a vicious trick on poor Malvolio.  They forge a letter, which they pretend to be from Olivia, the mourning sister, in which "she" confesses her secret love for him.  The cleverly drafted letter causes Malvolio to behave in strange ways that lead those not in on the joke to believe that he has gone mad.  The letter also contains a famous line, understood as serious by persons not familiar with the plot (and, of course, by Malvolio), though intended by the pranksters to be part of the devastating practical joke.  The line:  "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."  (Modern audiences may miss the sexual innuendo that Shakespeare intended in the last of the three clauses.) The world has recently lost some "great" people.  None of them was born great (though one was born into a "great" family), and none had greatness thrust upon them.  Rather