It was the summer of 2003. I had just graduated from high school, lived with my parents, and was working 50 hours a week as a helper/fitter at a local shipyard before heading off for my first year at LSU. I would come home each day filthy and smelly, but I loved having the opportunity to work hard and save some money for college. Unlike most work nights, I came home one evening to find my mom and dad sitting in the living room, waiting to talk to me. I had no clue what was going on but could tell it was serious by the looks on their faces.
As a young and naïve 18 year old, the first thing that came to mind was, “What did I do wrong?” It wasn’t about me, though. At 42 years old, my father had just returned from the doctor with a stage 3 colon cancer diagnosis and a surgical appointment in the coming days. Understandably, hearing this news was terrifying. My dad looked me square in the eye, though, told me he would “fight like hell,” and made it clear that this wasn’t going to get the best of him. He assured my sisters and me that he’d come out on top.
That summer, my dad had surgery, started chemotherapy, and did exactly what he said he would do; he fought back! The surgery went well, as did his chemo treatments. He went back to work after only a few weeks of recovery, and a short time later, I started my freshman year in Baton Rouge.
Everything seemed to be heading in the right direction until my parents requested that I come home one weekend because they needed to talk to me. “Here we go again,” I thought. “What could it be now?” I got home and walked into the house & there was my dad, staring at the ground, weeping. It seemed like he couldn’t even look at me. Through his cracking voice, he shared that he was losing the job he’d held for more than 20 years at the plant.
In the face of a challenging cancer diagnosis just months before, my dad stood firm and was ready to fight. With the job loss & uncertainty about how he would provide for his family, though, the man I’d seen cry maybe a handful of times in my life suddenly felt so helpless and scared that all he could do was weep.
Thankfully, he didn’t give up, and after going through a few jobs here and there, that resilience paid off. He landed back on his feet, found work with an outstanding forklift company, and subsequently became a manager there. He worked with that company for many years before passing away in 2018.
Years later, I still think about him all of the time, and I often reflect on how that brutal few-month stretch ended up shaping my life and my career. Yes, I practice law to provide for my family. But I also practice because I see in my clients what I saw standing by my father’s side nearly 18 years ago; that fear, helplessness, and uncertainty about knowing what to do or who to turn to in troubling times. Unfortunately, I’ve seen it even more since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. But rest assured, I use the lessons learned from those experiences every day to stand by my clients’ sides when they’re feeling helpless, and I’ll always “fight like hell” for their rights, so they have a chance to “come out on top,” too.
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