CARL DAWSON: THE LAWYER WE ALL HOPED TO BECOME

More than 15 years ago, a close friend suggested I take the opportunity to meet with Carl Dawson to chat about my practice and goals. Of course, I knew of Carl from the many lawyers and judges in Duval County who would sing of his miracles before a jury. I visited him in the Blackstone Building one day to introduce myself. He and I had a 50-year age gap between us, but I quickly realized that gap did not hinder our ability to relate to one another.

We talked of everything: our love for the courtroom and our system of justice. He talked about his hole-in-one’s and some of the great golf courses he played. I told him how my golf game could not get any worse. We spoke fondly of so many lawyers and judges we held dear. After a lengthy discussion, Carl looked me in the eye and took a long pause as if he could see our future right before him. He said, “You should open your own practice…why don’t you open it in the office on the other side of my wall?” Now, I was certainly not there that day to make a decision like that. Yet, I didn’t think about it or tell him I needed some time to consider it. Instead, in that moment, I responded, “Yes.”

It felt right. He walked me down the hall to the landlord, who drew up a form contract. I signed it and left my old firm.

I spent every day thereafter learning from Carl. I worked on his cases; he worked on mine. We had so much fun that we immediately merged our practices. At lunch, we would typically get in the car and drive somewhere. He would always purposefully take the route with the back roads, even if it meant the drive would be longer. He did the same on long trips. Instead of stopping for fast food, he would stop at a restaurant. He purposefully did not rush.

When two of my partners, Giovanni Stewart and Jeremy Paul, joined the firm, we would walk downstairs with Carl and have coffee “on the corner” in front of the Blackstone Building. Carl would tell us stories as we occasionally talked to lawyers crossing the street to the old courthouse, asking what was on deck that day. We loved taking 30 minutes early in the morning just to observe the activity buzzing in front of the courthouse.

When Carl had court, it was an event. We loved to go with him and watch him dazzle us with something we had not seen before. He would recite poetry or great works of literature, always with a soft hand, a sense of shared humor. But his argument was a small part of the experience. More than any lawyer I have seen since, Carl enjoyed simply being in the courthouse. We would walk through the halls greeting security officers and seeking judges. Carl would sincerely ask how they were doing and thank them for all they did.

Along the walk, we’d meet people who would tell us stories about how Carl helped their parents get their first job, or how he tried a family law or criminal case (he was always a civil trial lawyer) because they did not have the resources to hire represention.

Carl would educate himself, work alongside a knowledgeable colleague, and win at trial. The stories would always come back to elements of truth, honor, and personal integrity.

We would also pop into the attorneys’ lounge to smell the burnt Folgers pot and see what everyone was doing. With Carl, we learned as much during the interim as we did in the heat of the moment. More than most, for Carl, the journey was the destination.

Carl also had a unique approach to litigation, having tried more cases than any one person could ever try these days. His experience made him more likely to follow his instinct. One time, Carl and I had a jury trial against a stellar law firm (and good friends). We had agreed that I would do voir dire and Carl would handle the opening statement. I prepared all weekend, not wanting to miss a thing during jury selection. We showed up that morning and after the plaintiff finished voir dire, Carl leaned over and said, “Let me do voir dire, you do the opening.” I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Carl stood up, worked his magic, and the jury ultimately returned a favorable verdict. But it was his relationship with the jury panel, the bailiff, the judge, and very importantly, the opposing attorneys, that stuck with me. He treated each of them with the respect they deserved.

Carl Dawson passed away recently at 98 years old. He was, in every sense of the word, a gentleman. He lived a life that elevated the practice of law.

Over time, I came to understand that what I experienced with Carl was not unique. For generations of lawyers in Jacksonville and throughout Florida, he represented everything that was good and honorable about our profession. He was a legendary trial lawyer whose reputation was built not only on extraordinary skill in the courtroom, but on an unwavering commitment to professionalism, integrity, and ethics. His success was never measured solely by the verdicts he obtained, but by the respect he earned from judges, opposing counsel, clients, and colleagues alike.

Carl practiced law during an era when a person’s word was their bond, and he never allowed those values to fade. He demonstrated that strong advocacy and genuine civility are not opposing ideals; they are complementary virtues. He proved that a lawyer could be highly successful with compassion, grace, and a large helping of humility.

What truly set Carl apart, however, was the way he carried himself. He possessed an unmistakable Southern charm that put people at ease. He greeted everyone with kindness, treated every person with dignity, and conducted himself with a quiet confidence that commanded respect without ever demanding it.

Carl Dawson leaves behind an enduring legacy that cannot be measured by 65 years of practice or the 2,000 to 3,000 civil jury trials he tried. His legacy is the standard he set for what it means to be a lawyer and, more importantly, what it means to be a good person.

Credibility is a lawyer’s greatest asset and civility is never a weakness. There may never be another lawyer who tries as many cases, but perhaps we can all strive to be a little more like Carl Dawson. For me, I carry his lessons — his treatment of others and the sheer joy with which he practiced — every day. Carl was a magnificent lawyer and a dear friend. I believe lawyers can continue his legacy of professionalism and civility.

Imagine a world where every lawyer practiced like Carl Dawson.

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