CBS television’s 60 Minutes is a show my husband Lee and I try to watch every Sunday night. Although not always as incisive as it was with the original crew—Mike Wallace, Morley Safer, Diane Sawyer, Dan Rather, Andy Rooney—occasionally, there is a memorable episode. The recent episode about the heroic firefighters who lost their lives on September 11 was one and it brought back powerful, painful footage and memories of that day and the days that followed.
I’m sure, like me, you remember exactly where you were when you first learned about the 9/11 attacks. I was sitting in my yard enjoying the beautiful sunny, warm day, as I prepared for a deposition later that afternoon. My secretary called and asked if I had seen the news, so I went into the house and turned the television on. I couldn’t immediately grasp the enormity of what was happening, and of course no one knew at first, was it an accident? Pilot error? Aircraft failure?
My deposition still took place, but the first thing I did when I saw my children that afternoon was to give them a huge hug, as they looked at me quizzically—what was that for, Mom? Although that time following the attacks is a bit of a blur, certain moments stand out, like watching a field hockey game and our 5-year-old daughter Carla looking up and saying “airplane,” because the skies had been empty until then, and attending a US vs. Jamaica soccer game in Foxborough, when cheers erupted as we learned the United States had invaded Afghanistan.
But what I do remember very well is the pride and sorrow I felt when I was able to put my legal skills to work on behalf of one of the survivors in obtaining a recovery from the Victims’ Compensation Fund (9/11 VCF) established by Congress. Once the fund was established, Attorney Ken Feinberg was appointed to administer it, and a formula was established to determine how much each claimant would receive.
Most of the claimants were relatives of people who had died, and, like everyone facing a discussion of what an insurance company might offer in a wrongful death lawsuit, they had a challenging time accepting the fact that their loved ones’ lives were being reduced to a number.
When Congress established the 9/11 VCF, it also created an appeal process. As with all these legislatively created compensation funds, the 9/11 VCF formula was based on just a few data points, such as age, occupation, and marital status. The appeal process allowed an opportunity to introduce more information, both financial and subjective.
The trial lawyers’ organization of which I have been a member since I was in law school, now known as The American Association for Justice (AAJ), created a pro bono program to recruit lawyers and other professionals, such as economists, vocational experts, and counselors to represent 9/11 survivors to pursue appeals to try to increase the awards.
The 9/11 program established by AAJ allowed us to use the skills we developed preparing and trying wrongful death and other personal injury cases, and, most important, for people who were truly deserving. The client I was assigned was Pat Paul, a lovely woman trained as a CPA who, with her husband James, had raised two children and was looking forward to retirement. In the weeks following the tragedy on 9/11 The New York Times published biographies of every person who had died, and they have been compiled in a book which I keep in my office.
The biography of James Paul describes how, as a vice president of Carr Futures, he loved being “on top of the world,” on the 92nd floor of 1 World Trade Center, and that, having found a condominium in Savannah, Georgia, he could play golf, and Pat could enjoy the culture and architecture. Pat recalled that, at age 58, “he was working very hard, six days a week, to make enough money to retire early.”
Their dream was not to be. The first plane on that terrible day hit the floor just above where James worked. Pat did not learn of his fate immediately, and, as for many of the victims, flyers with his photograph and name were circulated asking for information of his whereabouts. It is true that no amount of money can compensate for such a terrible loss, but I worked with Pat and an economist to present a fuller picture of James as a person to Attorney Feinberg and his associates.
A military veteran, Jim took immense pride and care in his appearance and Pat told me of his nightly routine to make sure that every day he wore “spit shine” shoes. His work ethic and mentorship of others included writing a book “What I Learned Losing a Million Dollars.” We were able to increase Pat’s award, which, among other things, helped her pay for the dog walker who cared for her faithful companion while she continued to work.
The work that I did for Pat remains one of my proudest accomplishments as a lawyer and, although I will never be able to equal the heroism of many that day, and those of New Boston’s first responders, I am glad that I was able to use my legal abilities to play a very small part in helping our nation heal from that terrible time.
