Lessons from A Solo Practitioner

David Young Parker 1941 – 2021

Lessons from A Solo Practitioner: A Tribute to David Young Parker

In the summer of 1965, David Young Parker, a second year Vanderbilt University Law School (VUL) student, held a clerkship with Chattanooga lawyer, Leonard Tanner. Early one morning, David arrived at the law office and set out to sharpen all the pencils needed for the day. When Tanner came in, he took one look at what David was doing and asked, “Son, do you know what it cost me to support my family?” David thought he was going to be a tax lawyer and had worked on Tanner’s tax estimates, so he answered “Yes, sir.” Tanner said, “I have a rule that until I make my first $100 each day, I don’t do anything like what you are doing.” Lesson learned: Focus on what is important, not what you think looks good.

David learned many lessons during his clerkship with Tanner, a tough disciplinarian. Early one morning, David was writing a brief while sitting at Tanner’s desk. When Tanner came in and saw David behind his desk, he asked “What are you doing behind my desk?” David responded, “Taking care of you, like I’m supposed to do.” Tanner replied, “And what do you think a client would think if they saw you sitting at my desk?” Though David did not think a client would think anything about it, he was to learn otherwise—that is, how you present yourself to your clients makes a big difference. Lesson learned: Do not give up when at first you do not succeed, whether it is school, tests, or litigation.

Each spring in the 1960’s, the VUL Dean, John Wade, prepared a booklet with a photo of every law school graduate with a small bio for each student. Dean Wade circulated the booklet to all the law firms in Tennessee, asserting that every VUL graduate was highly qualified. As a result, Hall, Haynes, Lusk, and Foster in Chattanooga invited David for an interview and hired him as an associate on August 1, 1966.

One partner of the firm represented the Jim Walters Corporation. He handled all the client’s title searches for $25 per search and assigned David to run from county to county each day to do the title searches—a tedious, lengthy process involving large, heavy warranty deed, trust deed, tax, and lien books. Regardless of the time involved, sometimes driving into northern Georgia or Alabama, David had to perform the searches even though the clerks would tell him that the titles were good (and they were). He paid his own travel expenses while the searches consumed his time for little financial return. At that

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time, Chattanooga had no public defenders and judges frequently appointed new lawyers to represent criminal defendants for little or no remuneration. As a court-appointed defense lawyer, David aggressively represented his criminal clients and earned a good reputation in the trial courts, but little else. Within a few months at the law firm, he sensed something was amiss.

On February 12, 1967, his first child was born. About two weeks later, the partners called David into the conference room and told him that the firm was terminating their relationship with him. He was scared to death. He had been hired on August 1, 1966 and fired in February 1967. David considered getting fired a mark of shame, “you just didn’t get fired.” He asked if he could have another chance and was given a resounding NO. One partner, Mr. Lusk, a Virginia Law School graduate, asked, “Didn’t they teach you at Vanderbilt what you are good at? You’re a good criminal lawyer, but you will never be a partner in this law firm.” Lesson learned: Even when you are working hard and getting good results, you may not please an employer focused on other outcomes.

Desperate to support his family, David managed to find a job at Provident Life & Accident Insurance Company, one of the three major insurance companies in Chattanooga. Although he learned how to handle large sums of money, he thought he was wasting his time, as he did not realize how important that was and did not see himself as a real lawyer. He reached out to the Vanderbilt placement office and learned of an opening for a lawyer in the state welfare department, now the Tennessee Department of Human Services.

A former classmate and the department’s general counsel, Aubrey Blankenship, interviewed and hired David. He became one of only three staff lawyers who covered all 95 counties, representing the state in all its neglect/ dependent cases, child abuse cases, welfare fraud, and paternity lawsuits, many in county Juvenile Courts.

David stated that many people thought Juvenile Court involved lawyers sitting around, holding hands, coming up with ideas and discussing what to do. He found it to be a very dangerous job, especially in the rural counties where people felt threatened by the department—and they let the lawyers know that. David and the other two lawyers received threats that they would be killed if they came to certain parts of the state. He did not worry too much about those threats, but was more worried about “the nuts and crazy people.”

David took the hardest cases because he had been fired and thought he had to do so to keep his job. In 1969, David ran up against the Grand Dragoness of the Klan in Sevier County in a neglect case. He felt he might be killed during that case. Upon leaving the courthouse, he frequently counted to three before he turned on his ignition as he thought his car would blow up. He had little confidence in the Sheriff who supposedly was involved in hauling liquor. When the trial commenced on an exceptionally hot day, opposing counsel, T.M. Wynn, came into the court wearing a Panama hat, a striped suit, and white shoes. As Wynn and David waited for the Grand Dragoness to appear, Wynn said “Tilde thinks she is pregnant.” David knew Tilde, the Grand Dragoness, was close to 55, an ancient person, and did not believe she was pregnant. She did not come in, but the department still needed to get the children. The Deputy Sheriff, Lydia Boor—a short little lady who had a pistol on her hip who also worked for the department—jumped in her car, went out to the Grand Dragoness’ home and picked up the minor children.

David spent three years with the department and learned “You come back here carrying your shield or your shield will come back on top of you. You better not run.” Lesson learned: An honest, truthful, scholar and upright good man provided us all with a blueprint for a life well lived as a solo practitioner.

David Young Parker died January 23, 2021, due to complications from COVID-19. All quotations are from the official oral history of David Young Parker. Visit NashvilleBar.org/OralHistories to view David’s oral history and to read this article in its entirety. n

HONORABLE CLAUDIA

BONNYMAN is a retired Chancellor for Davidson County and a weekend farmer.

HONORABLE CAROL MC-

COY is a retired Davidson County Chancellor and aspiring mediator.