Several years ago, my family and I walked to a sports bar near my parents’ home for lunch — the same bar my dad used to spend time at while he was a law student. We were enjoying a lazy weekend day.
I’m a fan of any establishment that has a TouchTunes jukebox, and this restaurant did. After getting situated, as is my TouchTunes custom, I stuffed the machine with several of the longest Dave Matthews Band tracks I could find, all queued up on “play next.”
If you don’t know me at all, it’s important to understand that I’ve been going to DMB shows for 16 years. I’ve seen the band perform in three different countries and close to a dozen different states. I proposed to my now-wife at a DMB concert, and our first dance at our wedding was to a DMB song. I’m a bit of a fan.
So I’d put probably $20-30 into the machine and was well into my highly curated set when, midway through our meal, I got up to use the restroom. On my way back, a normal-looking guy stopped me and asked if I was the one playing the Dave Matthews songs. I gleefully responded, “Absolutely.” We exchanged some pleasantries, and I quickly discovered this gentleman was also a fan, going so far as to show me his Dave Matthews-themed tattoo (I didn’t get my own DMB-inspired ink until 2025).
We’ll call this fellow Kevin. As I normally do when I meet someone new, I handed him my card and invited him to call if he ever needed help with an injury. Sometimes that results in a new case; other times I get asked about an area of law I know less than nothing about. Kevin made a remark about how he could have used my card because he had just been in a wreck, but that he had already found a lawyer to help him. I told him something to the effect of “not a problem, good luck, I hope they treat you well.”
A week or so later, Kevin called to tell me he’d fired the lawyer representing him on a personal injury case and he wanted me to help him out. I told him I’d be happy to look at his file. He hired me the next day.
I quickly found out Kevin had a massive case. He’d been a passenger in a vehicle struck by a partner at a large St. Louis law firm. Admittedly, I saw dollar signs, and I communicated that potential to Kevin.
For the first nine-ish months, Kevin was affable, if a tad needy. Despite my assurances that everything was under control, he and I talked at least a couple of times a week.
Once he was “released” from treatment, I sent a policy-limits demand to the insurance company for the at-fault driver, and told Kevin that by law, the insurer had 90 days to respond after confirming receipt. Even though I expected them to take every day the statute allowed, Kevin and I kept chatting regularly, and he knew the due date. As we approached it, that’s when Kevin’s demeanor started to change. He grew impatient and frustrated, some of it understandable, some not.
Despite my consistent reassurances, it seemed to me there was always some part of him that suspected I wasn’t really on his side. The due date came and passed. Kevin was livid, that part, I understood.
I told him I’d call the insurance company’s lawyer to see what was going on. Opposing counsel told me the deadline simply hadn’t been calendared correctly — nothing could be more innocent — and asked for ten extra days to evaluate my demand. Kevin begrudgingly agreed.
Five days later, opposing counsel purported to tender limits (this was a combined single-limit policy with two other claimants against it, a story for another post). A week after that, opposing counsel called to tell me there was an umbrella policy providing an additional $3,000,000 in coverage, once triggered.
Obviously, I wanted to get into that policy too, because I thought Kevin’s case supported it. But getting there was going to take even more lawyering, and I wasn’t sure how much leash I’d be given.
It was around this time that Kevin became impossible to deal with. There’s no way around it, he was abusive toward me and my staff, but mostly me. I was getting daily tirades full of insults and put-downs. Most of them were, admittedly, painful to hear. One of them was objectively hilarious: “Did you take your LSAT in fucking crayon?” (I did not. They wouldn’t have let me.)
Ultimately, I transferred Kevin’s case to another attorney at my prior firm, and he became someone else’s problem. By August 1, 2024, I’d left that firm to start my own, and I hadn’t heard from Kevin in some time. I later learned his case resolved for a substantial amount of money.
About six months later, I ran into Kevin at the Target by my house. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him, given how he’d treated me. But being the stand-up guy he actually is, he approached me and immediately apologized for his behavior and what he’d said. I forgave him, unequivocally.
About six months after that, after exchanging some messages on social media, he was in another collision, albeit much less severe this time, and hired me again. A couple of months into the case, he called to let me know he was heading to inpatient rehab for addiction treatment. Suddenly, everything made sense.
Kevin, unbeknownst to me, had been deep in the throes of addiction. Early on, he’d told me he was a Marine Corps veteran, and that the Marine Corps was really the only place he’d ever felt a sense of belonging. His parents were rarely in the picture, and when they were, it was the farthest thing from a loving home. Couple those experiences with a traumatic brain injury, and it’s no wonder Kevin was, and I think he’d agree, an asshole.
But in January 2026, Kevin made the hard, brave decision to get help. Help no personal injury lawyer could possibly provide: help getting sober. He completed inpatient rehab and has continued his sobriety journey ever since. In fact, as I write this, Kevin has been clean and sober for seven months, and I am so incredibly proud of him.
Addiction is real. It’s a worthy opponent — a disease that requires daily battles to overcome. Kevin fights those battles every single day, and he’s been stacking wins. Representing Kevin, now twice, has reminded me of two important things I think every lawyer is wise to remember: (1) you truly never know what battles people are fighting, and (2) sometimes people are assholes because of what’s happened to them, not because that’s who they are.
I resolved Kevin’s second case and even drove an hour each way to see him at his new home. He’s started a new job and, at least as he reports it, is doing much better. He spends his time switching between Dave Matthews Band and Slipknot, two musical groups that could not be more different if they tried. He’s dating again, and he recently found out his student loans have been forgiven in their entirety.
Kevin deserves all the credit for overcoming the hand he was dealt, but I like to think that somehow, some way, I helped him find the courage to take on addiction and come out better and brighter on the other side.
That’s all for today. If you’re having a cold one tonight, raise a glass for Kevin, because he better not be toasting anything with booze in it.
(Standard disclaimer: this post reflects my own experience representing a real client and is shared with his knowledge, not as legal advice. Some details may be adjusted to protect privacy. If you’re dealing with a personal injury claim of your own: hurtinstl.com.)
Cheers,
