HAVE LICENSE, WILL TRAVEL

by Gina Sestak

I gave up my private law practice in 1986. I was tired of fighting for people in court, then fighting those same people to get them to pay me. I had begun to regard clients as somewhat akin to cockroaches, except I liked the roaches better.

So I began to rent my services to small firms and sole practitioners. Let those lawyers fight their clients over fees -- as long as the lawyers paid me, I was happy. I billed myself as a freelance associate, willing to step in at a moment's notice to handle awkward, inconvenient matters.

It is an immutable truth of the universe that, if you have to be at two events in any given year, those two events will be on the same day in different locations. Hence the need. A sole practitioner might received notice of a motion being presented in Lawrence County at the same time she is due in court in Allegheny County. I would step in to handle the motion in Lawrence County.

This was fun. There are several small counties with pretty little courthouses around Pittsburgh. I often didn't even charge for travel time. It was too enjoyable, learning to navigate unfamiliar court personnel and judges, and being out and about -- although I admit that I sometimes got confused on the way to Washington County and almost went to Erie (you local folks know what I mean).

My favorite part of this job, though, was attending depositions with the deponent. Modern law practice tries to avoid courtroom surprises, so it is the norm (at least in larger cases) for each side to question the other's witnesses under oath prior to trial. Such a questioning session is called a deposition; the testifying witness is called a deponent. The purpose behind this is simple: if both sides know what the evidence is, they are more likely to reach a settlement. Even if the case isn't settled, the attorneys may be able to agree to certain facts. This can streamline the trial by cutting down on the number of things that have to be proven in court.

The attorney taking the deposition might spend a day or more asking probing questions, while the attorney on the other side fretted over taking time away from other pressing matters. The solution: I would attend the deposition. It is important for attorneys for both sides to be present but, if you're not the one taking the deponent, you don't have to do much. I mainly drank coffee and took the deponent out of the room on occasion to provide advice but -- and this is crucial -- whenever inappropriate questions were asked, I would object. Different jurisdictions handle deposition objections differently. In some places, I've heard, you can go directly to a judge for a ruling. Our local judges don't want to be bothered. Around here, you simply put the objection on the record and, if the deposition is used at trial, a judge rules then.

I also did a lot of research, writing briefs and other legal documents. That, too, is fun in its own sick sort of way. The trick is figuring out what the law is. Oh, I know we say "the law" as if it were a list of dos and don'ts, like the ten commandments. In reality, "the law" consists of thousands of federal statutes and regulations, thousands of state statutes and regulations, and the thousands of cases in which judges have applied and interpreted them. Not to mention the hundreds of rules that govern how, when, and where each issue can be raised. Research can be mind boggling. I must admit that I don't find the law itself as fascinating as the facts. I briefed one marital dispute over cows who were in utero at the time of separation. I can't remember how the Divorce Code regarding them, but the phrase "after-born cattle" has stayed with me.

I freelanced for a few years, mainly for a small group of customers. Although the income was irregular, the work was interesting. What more can you ask than that?

GOING IT ALONE

by Gina Sestak

In the mid-1980s, I hung up a shingle and entered into what is called a "solo practice" of law. Like many people who had never been in business, I had unrealistic expectations about being self-employed.

Self-Employment Myth No. One: Your time is your own. Not true - you work 24/7, and your time is structured by your clients' needs. You can't take the day off when there's a hearing scheduled, or close the office early when you're working to meet a deadline. I should mention that most legal work has very strict deadlines. If a brief isn't filed on time, you lose the case. If a case isn't filed on time, you waive your rights. Legal deadlines are not like when Mommy and Daddy say, "Be in by midnight," and you know that everything will be okay if you show up at 12:01. Legal deadlines are like when the terrorists call and say, "The building will blow up at 2:00." If you lollygag around until 2:01, you won't survive.

Self-Employment Myth No. Two: You get to keep whatever money you make. This one goes hand-in-hand with, "You can charge a lot of money." People who have only been employees often don't understand the difference between an hourly wage and hourly charges. An hourly wage is yours to keep, after your employer has graciously deducted all applicable taxes. An hourly charge makes up the total income of a business. Office rent, equipment, supplies, business taxes, etc., etc., come off the top before even a penny gets to you. Then you have to take a substantial portion of the paltry sum that's left to pay your own taxes, including much higher social security tax because you're paying both the employer's and employee's share. And it's impossible to budget when you never know from month to month how much money will come in. My net monthly income ranged from $242 to $2500.

Office rent is a big expense. Early on, I shared space with a group of other lawyers who had rented one floor in a building. The rent was relatively cheap. You get what you pay for. At one point, I was in a square office that had previously had a secretarial station carved out of one corner. The station walls had been removed but, since the light switch had been on one of the now-missing walls, the light switch hung from the ceiling on a cable and would swing distractingly. Later, I entered into a time-for-space arrangement with a friend from law school whose solo practice was better established. I got the use of an office and access to computer equipment in return for working on her cases a set number of hours per week.

While in private practice, I handled a wide variety of cases, everything from child support to felonies. It's very scary being responsible for such important things in peoples lives, and knowing that any mistake you make can result in them losing income or assets, losing contact with their children, or losing their freedom.

I left private practice at the end of 1985 and went into another business, but that's a story for another blog.