So Help Me God

by Larry D. Thompson

  "Well, Tank, this is the day. I just confirmed with the bank that the check has cleared. You can take Danny's check out to him shortly. I wanted to personally give you your share of the fee. Here's a check for $200,000. I threw in a little bonus for the fine work that you did."

  The judge handed him a check payable to "J. Robert Tisdale, Attorney at Law." Johnny Bob stared at the check, his name and the numbers. Then, he sat down in the hard-backed chair and looked up with tears in his eyes. "Judge, I never figured that the law practice would be like this. I don't know what to say."

  "Tank, you don't have to say anything. You did your talking in the courtroom. Let me say a few things. First, you earned this money. You're a natural trial lawyer. Forget your law school grades. Forget all those fancy Houston law firms. Before your career is over you'll make more money than all of their partners combined."

  Johnny Bob's eyes widened as he listened to Judge Arbuckle's praise. Up to this point in his life, compliments from teachers, coaches and professors were few and far between.

  "I've tried cases for thirty years and I know what I'm talking about. You've got the knack. You can connect with a jury like very few lawyers I've ever seen. It's a little like a preacher who becomes one with his congregation. By the time you finished the first day of that trial the jury was in the palm of your hand and was ready to believe whatever you told them. Not to say that you won't have to work your butt off for every trial, and you've got to make sure your case is credible. That it can pass the smell test. If you pick the right cases, jurors are going to do your bidding. Don't mean you won't occasionally lose a case. Any lawyer who's never lost a case just ain't tried very many, but you're going to win more than your fair share and win them big. Stick to the plaintiff's side. Go look for victims. That's where the money is. I'm going to hang around for a few more years and second chair you, not that you need it. I figure with you as my partner, my retirement can be on easy street. If it's okay with you, we'll change the lettering on the door to read Arbuckle and Tisdale, Attorneys and Counselors at Law.

  The first thing that Johnny Bob did was trade in his old beat-up pick up for a brand new red Ford pickup, loaded with every bell and whistle the dealer offered. On a-spur-of-the-moment decision, he also picked out one for Danny. Leaving his new pickup behind, he drove Danny's out to his house, parked the new truck in Danny's driveway and was climbing the steps to the porch when Danny came bursting out of the house.

  "There's my lawyer now. Best goddamn lawyer in East Texas. No, make that the whole state of Texas. See you've already been out buying yourself a new pickup."

  "Came to bring you your money, Danny," Johnny Bob replied as he handed his client a check for almost $800,000. He watched as Danny looked down at the check, then danced around the porch waiving the check over his head before stopping to grab him in as much of a bear hug as a little man could achieve with one the size of his lawyer. Johnny Bob pulled away from Danny, saying, "And there's one more thing. That's not my truck. It's yours. My present to you for putting me on the fast track in my legal career."

  "Just a minute, Johnny Bob," Danny protested. "I damn sure can afford to buy my own pickup now. Matter of fact, I ought to be buying you one."

  "Nope, Danny. I won't hear of it. Let's pile in your new truck and go by the bank to deposit that check. Then you can take me back out to the Ford dealer where my new truck is waiting for its owner."

  CHAPTER 29

  After that first trial, Johnny Bob had started a tradition. As the years went by, every time he won a case in excess of seven figures, or as the judge put it, "killed a fat hog," he bought himself a new pickup and also gave one to his client. He did so to show his gratitude to a client for entrusting him with an important part of the client's life. The tradition became a great marketing tool, as he became known as the Texas plaintiff's lawyer who was so generous that he bought his clients a new red truck, a gift in Texas more meaningful than a new Cadillac or Lincoln. He even had a license plate frame designed, announcing, "My Lawyer Is J. Robert Tisdale."

  Word about the new plaintiff lawyer in Palestine began to spread throughout East Texas. It didn't hurt that Danny Potts was a railroad man and bragged about his lawyer to every railroad worker within two hundred miles. Soon, the little waiting room in the third floor office was filled. Johnny Bob turned down all of the criminal matters and divorces, now referring them to other lawyers in the area. It wasn't long before Johnny Bob began to have his pick of cases. Bad truck accidents, usually involving death or serious injury; products liability cases where the victim was paralyzed; and medical malpractice cases, preferably where someone went into the hospital for some minor elective surgery and the outcome was a disaster. If there were a victim with a serious injury or death and, of course, a deep pocket defendant on the other side, he would take the case. He preferred to stay in East Texas where he was known and knew the ways of the people. For the right case, though, he would venture to Dallas or Houston, even out of state. He found that his country boy manner could easily out slicker the city lawyers, at least in the early years before his winning reputation became known. As the years rolled by, he married, helped his wife, Bernice, raise three children and saw the passing of Judge Arbuckle. He hired a few associates along the way, but the firm name would always be Arbuckle and Tisdale with the judge's name first even after he was gone. After all, it was the judge who got him into law school and gave him his chance as a lawyer, and it was the judge's wisdom that guided him in the early years. In fact, while Johnny Bob couldn't be positive, when he had a tough decision to make about a case, even after the judge was gone, he would swear that he could hear the judge's voice, lending his counsel. Whenever he sensed the voice, Johnny Bob took the advice, just as if the judge were sitting in his office, feet propped up on his desk and sharing his wisdom of forty years.

  The years also gave him the trappings of wealth. He bought one of the big old houses in Palestine on that shaded street where the rich folks lived. Once his kids were grown, Johnny Bob and Bernice, then his wife of nearly thirty years, spent more and more time on their ranch fifteen miles east of town. With three thousand acres, he had room to roam, raise a few cattle and horses and relax after a heavy trial. As he passed his sixtieth year, about the only deference he gave to his age was that after a big trial he retired to the ranch for a week or two of rest and relaxation. If possible, he would lure his grand kids out for fishing, tromping in the woods and, in the right season, deer hunting. While his house in town was big, at least by Palestine standards, the ranch house was opulent. Set back in the woods ten minutes from the highway, it was a rambling fifteen thousand square feet, including three two-thousand foot apartments for each of the three kids and their families. Directly behind the house was a barn full of gentle horses, a swimming pool fit for a luxury hotel, and a covered basketball court, lighted for nighttime play.

  Johnny Bob had no way to predict that his long string of victories would lead him to a Houston courtroom where Reverend Thomas Jeremiah Luther would use Lucy Brady in an attempt to capture control of the country's religious right wing. Nor, could he predict that his adversary would be Tod Duncan, another legend among Texas trial lawyers, who was dubbed "The Magician" for his uncanny ability to consistently pull a win out of thin air.

  CHAPTER 30

  Johnny Bob was doing cannon balls in the swimming pool with his grandchildren when Bernice hollered that he had a phone call. Johnny Bob climbed out of the pool, dried himself and picked up the portable phone. "This is J. Robert Tisdale, attorney at law. How can I help you?"

  "Counselor, this is Thomas Jeremiah Luther, and I'd like to hire you."

  "Why, Reverend Luther, I'm pleased to hear your voice. You and I have never met, but I've followed your career in the media ever since that day fifteen or twenty years ago when you were a resident of the Tarrant County jail. I saw that you pulled off another miracle recently and woke up like ol' Rip Van Winkle himself. I hear you're back to full steam. Can't imagin
e why you would need an old lawyer like me. You interested in suing some doctor for putting you to sleep for twelve years? If it's something like that, I might be able to help."

  "No, Counselor. It's nothing like that," replied T. J. "I'd rather not discuss it on the phone. Would you mind if I drove down to Palestine in the next couple of days?"

  "Preacher, you sure you don't want one of those good lawyers in Fort Worth or Dallas? I could recommend you to some fine ones. You know, I'm just an old country lawyer."

  "Come on, Johnny Bob. Is it okay if I call you Johnny Bob and you call me T. J.? I need the best plaintiff lawyer around for what I have in mind and you don't need to try to 'country boy' me."

  "Okay, T. J., I didn't really want to have to call you 'The Chosen,' anyway. I'd be afraid that I might have to kiss your ring or something. Tell you what. I've heard of your City of Miracles but I've never seen it. We've got our grand kids with us for a few days. Why don't my wife and I and the grand kids drive up to Fort Worth tomorrow? They can take a tour of your place while you and I talk."

  "Sounds good," T. J. agreed. "Just give us a blast on that siren when you get to the parking lot and we'll have an escort there immediately, say around eleven in the morning?"

  "Oh, you know about my siren and my little red pickup truck, do you, T. J.?"

  "To be honest, Johnny Bob. There's not much I don't know about you. I had my staff do a thorough background check before I decided you're the man for the job."

  "Well, Reverend, now you do have my interest piqued. See you tomorrow."

  They left in the pickup at nine the next morning. Bernice had a Lincoln Continental Town Car, but Johnny Bob refused to drive it. Too small and too cramped. Instead, they loaded the three grand kids into the back seat of the quad cab and drove the two hours to Fort Worth. Johnny Bob didn't intend to use his siren at the gates of The City of Miracles, but when he mentioned it to the three kids, they insisted so that as he approached the parking lot, he let out a long whistle. Within thirty seconds, a car appeared, looking like a metropolitan police car that was occupied by two large young men, clean cut, and carrying side arms.

  "Welcome, Mr. Tisdale. We've been expecting you. If you would, please follow us around to the back. You'll be parking in the garage under the Miracle Tower in one of the spaces reserved for The Chosen."

  As they entered the garage, Bernice counted three Lincolns, one red Jaguar, one navy blue Mercedes Benz and one black Corvette, all in spaces marked "RESERVED FOR THE CHOSEN." They piled out of the pickup. A young woman in her twenties told them that she would be the tour guide for Bernice and the kids while Mr. Tisdale met with The Chosen. She said she would bring them back to the Penthouse of the Miracle Tower in time for lunch at one o'clock. The two security guards escorted Johnny Bob to T. J.'s private elevator. At the penthouse, the doors opened and The Chosen welcomed Johnny Bob. He was dressed in his usual public attire, white linen suit, white shirt, a red tie, and his ever-present sunglasses.

  "Mr. Tisdale, I'm pleased that you could come."

  Johnny Bob looked around at the opulence of the penthouse. He had been in some fancy places in his days. This one took first prize at the county fair. In fact, looking around at the setting and seeing T. J. dressed in his custom-made suit made him feel a little embarrassed, especially since Johnny Bob was wearing his usual non-courtroom attire, a blue jumpsuit, one of many that he bought at the local Wal-Mart. He replied, "Shucks, preacher, looking around here, I feel a little like the country mouse that came to town. I guess I didn't know this was a formal meeting."

  "Not to worry, Johnny Bob, and call me T. J. Besides, I expected you to be wearing one of those. I would be dressed in jeans and a golf shirt myself except I've got a board meeting this afternoon and have to look the part of The Chosen. Come and admire the view before we sit down. Matter of fact, if you look almost straight down, you'll see a fancy, red, oversized, covered golf cart. Your wife and grand kids are in it. We reserve it for visiting dignitaries."

  T. J. pointed out various sights in all directions, including downtown Fort Worth off in the distance. He invited Johnny Bob to sit in one of two easy chairs facing west. A maid appeared and left them a tray of soft drinks, bottled water and coffee.

  "All right, T. J., just why is it you need this old country lawyer?"

  "Johnny Bob, I don't need an old country lawyer. What I need is the best medical malpractice plaintiff lawyer I can find and your name is the one that keeps popping up. I want you to sue an abortion doctor down in Houston for ruining a young lady's life."

  T. J. spent the next hour telling Lucy's story, starting with the abortion and ending with the miracle of her recovery for which he gave himself full credit.

  "T. J., let me tell you what you're getting into. I've tried about every kind of medical malpractice case there is, and there's flat no tougher case for a plaintiff to win. Most people start off by putting doctors up on pedestals. They just assume that a doctor can do no wrong. When one of their own gets sued, doctors tend to circle the wagons. I usually have to hire an expert from out of state who may or may not impress a Texas jury. Then you are talking about abortion. I actually took on one of those cases many years ago, not too many years after Roe v. Wade came down. Wanted to see what a jury would do with one. I lost that case and decided that I would never touch another abortion case again. Can't make any money with them. Frankly, even with bad injuries, I think a jury may hold it against a woman, even a young rape victim, for terminating her pregnancy."

  Johnny Bob paused and T. J. interrupted. "Come on, Johnny Bob. I've checked you out. There's no better plaintiff lawyer in the state, or probably the country for that matter. And name me one defense lawyer that could even polish your boots. With these facts, it's gonna be about as sure a win as you ever had."

  "Just a minute, preacher. We got some damn fine defense lawyers in this state. If you want me to name just one, I'd pick Tod Duncan to go up against me. You don't need to be mouthing about polishing boots if he's on the other side. He's capable of kicking any witness in the ass so hard that they won't be able to sit comfortable for a week."

  T. J. stared out the window for a time and then added, "there's one other thing you need to know. I don't just want to sue the abortion doctor, but I also want you to sue Population Planning along with him. I want you to sue for enough punitive damages to put Population Planning out of business and maybe scare a few more of these murder factories into closing their doors."

  Johnny Bob poured himself some coffee, added three cubes of sugar and stirred for a long time before he spoke. "T. J., you have just quadrupled the problem. You don't want just a malpractice case. You want to tackle the whole pro-choice movement. I don't like abortions although I'm not one of your fanatics. What you're suggesting is going to take up probably two years of my life with not much chance of success. In my younger years I might have considered it. While I may not quite be in my twilight years, I can work my regular docket and know that each year I'll put a couple of million in my pocket, ten percent of which, by the way, will go to the Baptist Church in Palestine. I expect you better go fishing for your lawyer in some other pond."

  T. J. pondered a few minutes, sizing up the big man before him. "Suppose that I get a group together that will pay the expenses of the litigation, get you some talented legal support, and guarantee you two million against your usual forty percent contract. Would that get your attention?"

  Johnny Bob grinned and replied, "Well, you're certainly beginning to speak my language. But you better understand that in addition to the two million, the expenses will probably be another half million. We'll need the usual experts and depositions, which are always expensive. Then, I'm going to need office space and a staff in Houston along with apartments for everyone for up to a year. You're talking big time litigation and it carries a big time price tag. By the way, do you have the agreement of this girl and her parents?"

  "Hadn't even discussed it with her and her parents yet. I'm fairly s
ure she'll do what ever I ask her to. I just don't know about her parents or her aunt who's no push over and has significant influence over our girl's parents. If you take on the case, you can meet with them and it'll be my job to do the convincing."

  "Tell you what, then, T. J. you get me the medical records from the abortion clinic and the hospital in Houston along with the rehabilitation records. Let me take a look at them. I've got a first class nurse-paralegal, Mildred Montgomery, who can dissect them and if necessary, I'll consult with the obstetrician who delivered my grandchildren. Then, if I think that we have a reasonable medical malpractice case, I'll have you get me together with the girl and her parents and her aunt, if you want to include her. I don't want to make any promises, understand? I'll look at the records and we'll go from there."

  T. J. wondered at a lawyer who would hesitate at making at least two million dollars for one case, maybe more. "Deal, Johnny Bob. Timing couldn't be better. It's about one o'clock and we need to meet your family in the dining room. I'm anxious to meet your wife. I understand she's a faithful viewer and I want to offer her a front row seat some Sunday. Matter of fact, if we get you on board, we'll probably see you lots of Sundays. I'll even arrange for you to have a suite here in the Miracle Tower. Let's go to lunch."

  CHAPTER 31

  Johnny Bob and his family went back home to Palestine, and T. J. put his plan in motion. First, he asked Jessie to get the signatures of Bo and Joanna on medical releases for Lucy, telling her only that he wanted another doctor to have a look at the records to determine what more could be done for Lucy. Within thirty days he had the clinic records, the records from Hermann Hospital, the rehab records and all of the doctors' records in a package that he messengered to Johnny Bob's office in Palestine.