The best is yet to come . . Congratulations . . May the horse be with you!

I’ll certainly miss your writings . . But look forward to your detailed triple crown analysis.

I have been at the court of appeals for the past five years before I decided that I needed a change. So beginning next month, I will begin a new chapter in my life and will be opening up my private practice. So in a way, we are reversing roles.

I certainly understand you making a change. Having worked as both a prosecutor and as a staff attorney at the court of appeals, I can tell you that the 8-5 job with fringe benefits is nothing to sneeze at.

I wish you much success in your new position.

I look forward to hearing from the “dark side”

WRM

Services held in churches and stuffy places do not lend themselves well to relating stories of why you so dearly loved the deceased and why they will be so missed.

In Lubbock, where I lived for eight years and practiced as a defense lawyer for five years, the local bar has a tradition of memorializing members of the bar at the courthouse. After a month or so has passed, the bar reserves a courtroom, usually during the lunch hour or on a lazy friday afternoon. They send out emails, and post flyers announcing the memorial. Attendance is usually standing room only. If I remember correctly, the entire proceeding is transcribed and kept in the bar archives.

I initially only attended the memorials of lawyers that I actually had met, but soon found myself going to all of the memorials. I enjoyed hearing of the old days and stories of triumph over perceived evil or injustice. I found it encouraging to know that people appreciate your efforts regardless of the role you play or the side of court you sit on. Young lawyers who might be easily discouraged in their efforts are reassured that they do make a difference, and more experienced lawyers are reminded of why they have stuck with it for so long.

Most importantly, the history of our profession is preserved for the future generations. I am afraid in the age of technology, texting and emails, that the art of interpersonal communication is lost. The colorful details, the excitement in the storyteller’s recollection of the events and the response from the audience are all part of the story, and without that, you are left with an impersonal account of the normalcy that we call the practice of law.

I challenge the Amarillo Bar to step up and keep the memories of our profession alive.

I do not have much knowledge regarding Joe’s medical problems. I know he had cancer. I know he drank and smoked. I have, however been very involved in the medical struggles of a close family member who has overcome that disease twice. Her struggles were in no way related to alcohol or tobacco. Absent some exact medical knowledge, it is presumptuous to list a cause of death other than cancer.

I don’t go to bars anymore, but I did last week to remember Joe. I would not have chosen that venue, but it certainly was not my call. The memorial was for Joe Dawson. It was arranged by those who loved and knew him best, and I think he would have loved to have been there with his friends. I commend Joe’s friends and family for their efforts to honor Joe, and his wishes.

Eric Coats