War Stories
A Lawyer Descends To the Abyss
Alcohol and Drugs Made My Life a Mess
I walked into my sizeable corporate law firm’s Palo Alto office on Halloween 1994, dressed head-to-toe in paisley and tie-dye. I said I was dressed as a hallucination because “when you wake up tomorrow, I will be gone.” Indeed, I was, and I left behind the corporate legal world that had for so long been my destiny. I have friends who stayed on and made a fortune, but that was not my path. I have several friends from Stanford Law School. By this point (seven years out), they were involved as nonlawyers in some fun and unique adventures. It took me three decades to do the same.
Some people will say that I was the typical alcoholic, lowering my expectations to match my circumstances. During sobriety, I adjusted my employment to reduce stress, which triggers my bipolar disorder. I did not leave my corporate law job because I was told to leave. I went because I wanted to leave a corporate law firm and head to a more progressive law firm. My father had died of asbestos-caused mesothelioma; a nonsmoker was taken out at age 61 by lung cancer. I was angry and out for revenge.
I did not want to work endlessly to enjoy Sundays. Unfortunately, because of my choice to start at a big firm, the nonprofit groups I spoke with were not interested in talking about work. I was fueled by anger and resentment.
As far as I was concerned, corporations killed my father — “prepare to die!”
I joined a small union-side law firm as an associate in the Alburquerque office. The firm was small- to a mid-sized law firm (between 6 and 20 lawyers over time). I spearheaded our California Federal Employer’s Liability Act (FELA), injured railroad workers case practice, and personal injury practice. Other lawyers worked in other states. I took and prepared for many depositions and trials. I tried two significant cases with more seasoned trial lawyers and a more straightforward case on my own. That was a great experience. I then jumped in big on economic class action cases, where I stayed through 2010.
My heavy drinking continued, and in fact, got worse. To illustrate, one time, I walked up to the airport bar in the Southwest Airlines terminal at Los Angeles International airport (LAX), a bustling place with thousands of customers a day. The bartender said: “Hey Joe, the usual?” People turned their heads to look at me. I said “Yes,” and he poured me a beer, a neat tequila, and a tall glass of water. I would always show up sweating, having just changed out of my suit in the airport bathroom. I should have realized that only a hard-core drinker would have a “usual” at an airport bar.
I represented a lot of clients in the L.A. area. They were railroad workers injured on the job. They are not subject to Worker’s Comp insurance. Instead, they get to try a case with the deck stacked in their favor. I would fly in the night before and appear the next day. I would start drinking on the plane, rent a car, and drive drunk to my hotel, where I would continue drinking. The Holiday Inn — Downtown L.A. was my typical scene of the crime. Because it was cheap. But they also did not charge me extra (except for one time) to clean out the puke in my room.
One Halloween night, I was traveling to L.A. because the judge held a hearing on November 1. It was a nearly empty flight. This was back in the day when there were front and rear-facing seats in a six-person booth. I had mine all to myself. So did a guy opposite me in the other booth. I introduced myself, and he introduced himself. I did not recognize who he was — a child T.V. star — and I think he really liked that fact. I later found out who he was, and having grown up in L.A., I was still rather blasé about it.
We went over to my friend’s house. He was still single and still liked to party with his friends. I called him from the airport, and we agreed I would come over. I then brought my new friend in a taxi, and the three of us partied. We drank and smoked some seriously dank buds. My new childhood star friend passed out with a bong on his lap. We poured him into a cab to go home. My friend and I thought about taking his picture while passed out, but we agreed that would not be cool. Two years later, I saw the same star on a T.V. morning show. He was talking about how he hit rock bottom two years ago, which was the date of our Halloween. My friend and I were responsible for him reaching rock bottom. It was just another night for me.
Under the law at the time, you could file a class action locally in New Mexico state court. The corporation would then remove the case to federal court. It would file a motion with the national Judicial Panel on Multi-District Litigation (“MDL”). The MDL Panel would consolidate all the cases around the country in one court, usually the company’s headquarters.
By the late 90’s I had filed nearly 40 significant lawsuits. Some were price-fixing cases involving sorbates, bromine, and vitamins. I was New Mexico state’s co-lead counsel in the monopolization case against Microsoft. Numerous cases involved drug companies. My firm took on too many cases to count against the pharmaceutical company for shenanigans involving generic drugs and price discrimination to drive out the “Mom & Pop” pharmacies.
I had 200 open files at one point with a full-time paralegal. I was flying all around the country in these cases. That meant getting drunk all the way to far-flung destinations with long layovers in airport bars. One night in early September 2001, I landed in Miami for an MDL hearing in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Florida. I had been drinking all the way from New Mexico and was sloshed. I got lost in Miami, which is easy to do sober. Well, I had a problem at a left turn lane, and I ended up hitting a car. It was less than $1,000 damages, and fortunately, nobody got hurt. The other driver called the cops, who showed up and arrested me for DUI. This was my first time in jail. I ended up spending the first night in the “drunk tank,” and then I was released into the jail’s general population, where I spent a second night.
I did not like it or feel comfortable. You could even say I was in constant fear. But it didn’t stop me from drinking. I refused to be tested, so I was charged with an aggravated DUI. I paid $10,000 for a top-notch criminal defense lawyer. His investigator turned up the guy at the rental parking lot booth that night. He would have testified that I did not look drunk some 15 minutes before the accident. I flew back out to Miami for the trial. The cops failed to show up for trial. My case was dismissed subject to refiling. I did not return to Miami.
When I got home, my first wife demanded that I quit drinking. So I did, at home, and I smoked a lot of weed. I also drank every time I was on the road. Nobody was going to tell me what to do. So began my decade of depravity.
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