“Fair only happens once a year by the Ag-Center” I remember my kindergarten-age son responding back to his younger brother in one of their never-ending disputes about something that would be forgotten in about 15 minutes.  I had never heard the saying in my life and paused my mediation efforts to find out what he meant.  My son told me that when someone in his class would say that what was happening wasn’t “fair”, the teacher, lovingly, would try and teach them at that very young age, that unfortunately, fairness isn’t a guarantee in life.  Actually, the only time you can count on “fair” is in September at the Ag Center when the WNC Fair comes to town.  She had distilled one of life’s complex lessons into a saying a kindergartener could understand.  Life isn’t always fair.  (Ironically, one of the cases that I’ve had the opportunity to work on involves injuries at the fair.   

https://wlos.com/news/local/new-case-of-legionnaires-reported-possibly-connected-to-quilt-show and workers’ compensation cases aren’t fair).  

In my career in working with individuals and families in personal injuries and workers’ compensation cases, I’ve learned that accidents don’t discriminate.  They can happen to anyone without rhyme or reason.  It can be absolutely heartbreaking. 

But, along with learning that life isn’t always fair, and that bad things happen to good people – I’ve also seen clients find a silver bullet to defeat their tragedy and be able to continue to live their life.   Clients that are able to walk away with a perspective of “well, it could have been worse” or “there’s something larger at play” are able to move on.  Even if they missed their ticket to the fair, they find a way to move on.   

This post falls on Thanksgiving, which was not by design, but could not have been more timely.  Despite the cumulative unfairness of life from year to date, Thanksgiving forces you to stop, shift your attention away from what went wrong, and focus on what are you thankful for, and there’s always something to be thankful for (see this wonderfully, funny clip from Mike Godwin (https://youtube.com/shorts/DKYy2ze2_l0?si=u9mF4wb9Kvcv2oS) –  Even if you missed the fair, give thanks.  It will make life a better ride than any at the fair anyways.

Brian Flagler told me that the first thing that he’d do if he was going out on his own was to get an assistant. He’d never ever practice without one.

Now, at that time, he may as well have said “the only type of car that I would ever drive, is the one with the shiny rims.”  Rims were expensive and seemed unnecessary for the vehicle I could afford and where I needed to go. What I did not know then, but know now, when Reed and I agreed that I would be leaving and Karen was going to join me, he wasn’t offloading an assistant that he didn’t  need, but a guardian angel. Karen had been an assistant for longer than I had ever been out of college. She knew the behind-the-scenes tricks of the trade, a network of paralegals and resources, and most importantly – she had a heart for each one of the clients that you couldn’t hire or train. She had just a natural connection with people and clients, and unending patience. So when those clients were tapping their forks ready for the food to come out, Karen just had a way with them in letting them know it’s almost ready and it’s going to be alright.  

Karen eventually left to work with another PI firm. (way more on that below).  A former client was letting go of an assistant that had a helpful background in what practice areas I was focusing on at the time. After the second day, of what was supposed to be a trial period, I offered Jenna a full-time position. The former client actually heard about how great she was doing and regretfully wished he had kept her for himself and never told me. If you’re going to do pretty much anything in life, whether attorney or other profession, the lesson learned is that you have to have someone that is going to have your back. You have to have someone there that can be a back stop, sounding board, an open shoulder, a post to lean on, and everything in between. As Admiral Mack McCraven said, if you want to change the world, find someone to help you paddle. If you want to find change the world, get Jenna Jarrett in your boat.  

  *Oh boy.  That was the original end of the lesson but as I have posted and seen people take heart to these lessons, I owe it to folks on this journey to be transparent.  I truly want to share lessons for the benefit of others, even if it is at my expense, so here goes:   

Reed Williams told me “if you’re mad at something, go kick the dog – don’t take it out on the people that are there to help.”  I was in between a million meetings and Karen said, I need to talk to you.  I heard it like another email in the inbox and said “yeah, hold on” – but she said “no, I need to talk to you now.”  I stopped, sat on my couch and heard her say that she’s leaving.  Going to another firm.  Devastation sank in as much as I sank in the couch.  Karen was my ride or die.  She had practically built the firm with me, put as much on the line as I, and I trusted her like Christmas Day. I offered every nickel I had to see if she would stay.  Nope. Done.  Leaving.   

So what happened?  In brutal honesty, I missed the assignment.  I was so consumed with the goal, I thought everyone else around me was.  Of course this is hard, tasks are never ending, that’s the deal.  But when you have someone else in the trenches with you, it’s not about digging ditches.  It’s about the person beside you.  I did not appreciate that I was working with someone that believed in me, and not just a soldier in the army of work.

Folks reading this post are leaders – they have demanding jobs, stresses – tasks that their magnificent minds understand so clearly that they cannot imagine any other brain not comprehending the same – but when someone may not seem that oh-so-obvious-answer – don’t snap. They are in the same boat with you and rowing as best they know how which may not best you know how, which is understandable because you don’t share the same brain that tells you how. So when you see or hear your teammate that is right beside you digging, you don’t have to tell them the right way to grip the shovel.  That’s not the point. The point is they are beside you and working with you.  If you are upset about what they are doing, changing my mentor’s phrase, “go pet a dog”.

(No animals were harmed in this post or in any lesson learned.  Her name is Brownie Jo and she approves this lesson).  

“It’s like you hear the first two directions on how to bake brownies –and you start trying to make brownies without reading the entire recipe” Jay quipped. I was bouncing a case off of him, but he could see that as he was trying to pour into me, I was slowly making my way out the door, ready to go and get cooking.    

Finishing law school allows you to put a meal together that is somewhat edible on the table; however, at that time in my early career, I needed to make high-end legal cuisine, and folks were sitting around the table ready to eat.  The lesson I learned in those early days in learning my craft is that there’s no shortcut, there’s no life-hack, no Jedi Knight magic way that will allow you to escape from what must get done.  You’ve just got to spend time in the kitchen, be patient and learn how to do it.    

In my early career, on Mondays I worked till 12 a.m., Tuesdays till 11 p.m., Wednesdays till 10 p.m., and Thursdays till 9 p.m.  I soaked up everything I could.  I literally have a book of quotes and lessons learned over that year (picture above) filled with overheard quotes from Jay to his staff (Melissa and Lisa), lessons learned, and experiences documented.  Lunch was every day at noon and the topics were cases, opposing counsel, and experiences.  Meals came out dry or salty, but I was learning.     

At the same time, it helps when you can see how and what other chefs are cooking and ask them for tips.  Tom Ramer, Brian Davis, Jay Kerr, Reed Williams, Neil Fulhiehan, Perry Fisher, Kip Marshall…thank you for letting me look over your shoulder from time to time to see what’s in the pot and what I needed to do.  A another Jay-ism: if you want to be a good golfer, see what Tiger Wood does and do that.  It’s not a revolutionary lesson, but one that is so simple it gets overlooked: it takes hard work and patience to gain the right experience. 

”Just spit it out”, my mentor Reed Williams exasperated with my hemming and hawing finally declared.

“I’m leaving and going to start my own firm in January” I finally was able to get out of my mouth.  The words hung out there like an open hand in the wind to a stranger – either to be ignored, high-fived, or smacked. 

I had only been at Reed’s firm for about a year and half and was already leaving. He unexpectedly had a life epiphany that led him to retire from the active practice of law after 30+ years about 6 months ago and left me to man his side of the ship, with James Mills rocking and rolling in his criminal practice.

There was a brief period of silence – not for judgment to stew in – but going through the practical implications – where would you go? Jay Kerr had cleared out some space for me?  What about Karen (his paralegal)?  She can come with me if she’d like.  Is your wife and family supportive (my kids were 5 and 3)?  As much as you can without knowing exactly what you are getting into.

We talked the rest of the night about the ins and outs, but also a self-assessment as to why I wanted to leave.  Although his vote wasn’t mandatory, his approval and confidence meant the world to me.  He also knew a lot about being a solo practitioner.  Reed had always marked me as a hustler for business and knew that my wife was one of the most understanding wives an attorney could ever have (1st or 2nd).  But, he heard me that I wanted to work on my craft more, I needed someone day in and day out to help me, and indirectly my clients, with being the best personal injury and workers’ compensation attorney.  While Reed’s door was always open, it wasn’t the same as being in the trenches with questions popping up.  Working alongside one of the best in the practice area would be an amazing opportunity for me to see how great PI and WC attorneys practice, take care of their clients, and run their business.  Making more money, the ability to create my own schedule, being my own boss, and those sort of traditional benefits of running your own show – those considerations never entered the equation.  In looking back, the question on the table was – What’s best for the clients and can you do it? 

I left that night with a huge weight off of my shoulders as the answer was evident to both myself and the man I respected and trusted with my livelihood – follow your heart, open your firm, learn the craft and take care of those that have entrusted you with solving their problems.

So, in making this post and on reflecting on that night in October 2015 a decade later, I would say that making sure your heart is in the right place has to be your North Star in directing you on where to go and what to do.  Knowing and also feeling that what you are doing is the right thing will keep you going further than any extrinsic carrot or stick out there. 

I was finishing up my summer clerkship with Roberts & Stevens.  It was a great experience and a memorable summer.  I wanted to thank the attorneys that I worked with for the opportunity.  My plan was to knock on their doors, pop my head in, say “thanks,” and hopefully not tie up too much of their time or make it a bigger ordeal than it needed to be.  I was just a summer clerk, and by no means did I do anything to warrant a swan song.  Jack Stevens had given me some assignments, we had lunch together a number of times, and my office was near his on the 11th floor.  So, he was my first stop.  I knocked on his door, and he welcomed me in.  I was not intimated by him, but certainly understood my place, his place, and I had a huge amount of respect for him.  

“I just wanted to say thanks so much for the summer. This was a great experience, and I really enjoyed working with everyone.”  I got everything out, no stumbling, and felt pretty good at my last words.  

Mr. Steven’s response: “Well, what did you learn?” in a dry, but friendly tone.

I’m pretty sure he saw my head explode as I was not expecting his question.  The guy whose name was on the door wanted to know what I learned, opposed to just allowing me to move along with a rote “glad you had a nice time” or “good luck in the school year.”  I literally stood there for a second before coming up with whatever lackluster response that I can’t remember (or wanted to forget).  

Mr. Steven’s response to my departure, and his question stuck with me from there on out.  Rather than just move on from one thing to the next, I always try to stop and reflect, what exactly did I learn?  I have a notebook at my desk that is filled with “what did I learn” from each case, and my kids are sick of me asking them at the end of their practices and games “what did you learn?”  

It’s been 10 years since I founded Brian Elston Law – and it seems timely to take a moment to share, and pass along, what I’ve learned. Beginning 11/6/2025 and continuing over the next 10 weeks and timely ending with when the doors opened, I’m going to share 10 lessons that will hopefully either entertain, educate or enlighten fellow attorneys and friends. The lessons are intended to be big picture instead of how best to calendar deadlines. By no means are these lessons exhaustive, and the book by my desk continues to grow daily as I am still learning.