"Change is the law of life." - John F. Kennedy
Grandpa’s team of horses and his grandson’s Honda — 135 years of technological progress. But almost no constitutional change.
Northwoods Lawyer
All’s promise when nothing is amiss.
Sniadach sat warily studying a thick, white envelope.
The rumor was that a thick envelope meant failure because it held the application for the February exam. The black letters were deeply embossed, as if typed with the thick declaration of defeat already stuffed inside. Failure officially declared, return address Minnesota Supreme Court, as if a personal messenger in black robes , the mourning coat of the law, had wended his way through the pass receivers and was already on the road back to St. Paul.
A Nation Headed South
Blood in the streets means brooding in the suites
“Nice and warm in here, Doc,” Ekker whispers. Mid-winter in Minneapolis, a cold snap, and their first visit to the Delphi Club, downtown’s most exclusive club. The firm lacks a membership, but the Delphi has a parking ramp and needs money, and Ekker and Mulhern have convinced the senior partners to lease some parking spaces there. It’s only a short walk in the skyway and through an inconspicuous metal door controlled by a Delphi keycard.
“Perhaps we’ll find some encouraging words for the office gang,” Sniadach suggests. “At the monthly meeting of the Union of Concerned Constitutional Scholars.”
The office mood is grim. At Olson and Evans, paralegals, first-year associates, admin people, even first-year associates waste hours whispering, bending over phones, scrolling for news. And none of it is good.
When the government starts to totter, a law firm begins wobbling, like a brokerage in the midst of a stock market freefall. It may be other people’s fortunes that are disappearing, but still the office spirit sinks.
“Looks unlikely to me,” Ekker replies. “Our beloved Baker Building is suffering two blocks away, but it’s not Heart Attack City in the Delphi Club.”