One of my favorite westerns is Shane, a movie that was released in 1953. It’s about a former gunfighter named Shane who rides into an isolated valley where nobody knows him. After he arrives, Shane meets Joe Starrett, a local family man and property owner. After Shane helps Starrett with some work, Starrett offers to hire him to work on Starrett’s farm. Starrett is not aware of the fact that Shane is a former gunfighter.
I can remember wanting to be a lawyer when I was in 8th grade. At that time, I was 13 years old. I remember lying in bed imagining what it would be like to be a trial lawyer. In my mind’s eye, I could see myself in a courtroom questioning witnesses and arguing my case to a jury. Of course, in my imagination, I was a brilliant and relentless lawyer who won all of my cases.
Last week I told you about the nice-guy prisoner who had a lot going for him but ended up in prison because he did “stupid stuff.” For the purpose of this article, I’m going to call him “Rick.” When Rick and I met in my office, he told me that after graduating from high school, he attended a trade school and became certified in a well-known trade. He was later hired by a company that paid him $24 per hour to work at his chosen trade.
It’s been a couple of years since my three youngest daughters — Mary, Christine, and Teresa — stopped describing boys to me in the way they had always described them. Before they stopped, whenever they talked about a new boy they had met and liked, they focused on how nice he was. They would say, “He’s such a nice guy. You can’t help but like him.”
Last week, I wrote about how I was able to convince a prosecuting attorney to agree to reduce a felony charge to a misdemeanor for a client who had been accused of committing a serious crime. The attorney accused me of being a whiner when I refused to stop pushing him to work with me. In the end, I got what I wanted; he agreed to reduce the charge.
After I graduated from Saint Louis University law school in 1982, my wife and I moved back to Peoria. At that time, my wife was pregnant with our second child. Shortly after returning to Peoria, I began teaching CCD classes on Sunday mornings at St. Sharbel Catholic Church to seventh- and eighth-grade students.