I met a hero when I was a kid, this left an indelible impression on me to this day.
I recall being somewhere between eight or nine, I had narrowly escaped taking a gun shot to the head at the hands of a man who lived in my home.
Later I was called on to testify about the incident, I felt helpless, fear and a certain amount of dread realizing my attacker would not like what I had to say, I just wanted to run away and hide. That was how I met Frank Decker Cady, attorney at law. I still have an image in my head of looking up at his fluffy hair bouncing as he led me directly into the court house.
It is a given that when you go through life you will hear those jokes that berate attorneys and sear their synonymous identity as one with ever gorging bottom feeders. Through the years I have rebuked the sense of these jokes with the idea that a certain type of individual was unfortunately drawn to becoming an attorney. The problem was not the courses of study of the law itself. The problem was a lacking of filters like psychological screening. Attorneys endure an extremely high pressure work style. They end up becoming an eventual embodiment of the cases they take on.