Like the Kansas song (and I do a mean karaoke version, along with Gold Dust Woman), what remains of Lord & Whip has, for the most part, been carried off by the wind.  For me, anyway.  What I have left is a couple of old admiralty books, one of which formerly belonged to George Whip, and the firm’s grandfather clock.  It doesn’t keep time and I doubt it’s worth anything, but it has sentimental value for me.  I am glad to have it in my office.

Lord & Whip celebrated its one hundred year anniversary a couple of years before I was elected a partner in 2008.  The firm cracked in half when I’d been a partner for all of eleven months.   Of the four partners who remained after that split, I believe I am the only one still actively practicing.  And I was the last elected owner of a firm that saw the Great San Francisco earthquake, the death of Susan B. Anthony, the birth of Samuel Beckett, and two World Wars. 

In the middle of the ordeal, I contemplated all sorts of horrible ways to destroy George Whip’s book.  I thought about burning it and posting a video of the bonfire on YouTube.  And worse things.  I know this was childish, and realistically I never would have done any of those things.  But it felt good to think them.  I was so very, very angry.

But I don’t feel that way anymore.  Time and the resolution of litigation have facilitated this, and copious amounts of wine haven’t hurt.  It was what it was, and it is what it is. 

So that’s my piece, and I’m done.  I’m not going to write about it anymore, in this blog or in my personal writing.  I’ve turned off the lights and turned the key in the lock.  Lord & Whip is now closed.

I feel for you.  I do.  Having survived (so far) my own devastating, horrifically public law firm dissolution, I can sympathize.  No, it was not on the scale of a firm like Howrey (which has not dissolved, but seems to be headed that way), but I think it might have been nastier.  And I practice in a fishbowl.  The folks at Howrey (and Thelen and Thatcher) get a little more anonymity. 

So, anyway, to those of you young partners and associates who find yourself scrambling at this point, I send you my best wishes for a smooth and pain-minimized landing. 

As for me?  I haven’t said much and don’t intend to.  I will say this, that I am doing pretty well and that I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  And I offer you this, my mantra of the past year and a half, the words of a wise, wise man.