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A series of articles emphasizing practical
knowledge you can't find in practice guides
and interviews with experts who share
their techniques for effective and efficient
case management
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Articles emphasizing practical knowledge you
can't find in practice guides
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Profiles of people who changed workers’
compensation law.
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• Warren
Schneider
• Marjory Harris
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A Personal Reminiscence
By Marjory Harris
Over a span of 30 years, I encountered many Barry Williams. The first
was “Barry
Wonderful,” a name I heard when I was interning at the Workers’
Compensation
Appeals Board in my last semester of law school, in 1974. As I read
brief after brief
submitted by Barry Williams, in a passionate writing style with intricate
and
seemingly endless sentences, I wondered who he was and asked about
him.
The nickname was delivered in a tone that suggested that it was Barry
who thought
he was wonderful.
It wasn't long before I had a chance to meet him in person, when as
a defense
attorney I was assigned a case involving some damaged fingers. I recall
it involved
the pinky and maybe another fingertip. I received many letters from
Barry. He
pursued the matter, small as it was, with unparalleled enthusiasm.
He would loom
over me and argue his position even though I told him I had no authority
to settle
the case. Over the years, I heard defense attorneys say that he “papered
them to
death” and “nickled and dimed” every case. He never
took the easy or lazy way out.
I met Barry again sometime later, during his sojourn in Southern California.
He
seemed to have mellowed, without in any way losing his passion for
workers’
compensation law. After he returned to the San Francisco Bay Area,
I became an
applicant's attorney and had some further contact with him when he
substituted in
on a case where I was having communication problems with the client's
mother.
Barry called me about my lien and was remarkably fair in dividing
the fee.
Later, when he established his California Workers’ Compensation
Advisory Service,
I contacted him for help on a difficult case. After he became my mentor,
I saw even
more dimensions of this remarkable man. He had a towering intellect,
extremely
high standards, undaunted energy, productivity and focus. He seemed
to have an
eidetic memory, and remembered more about my cases than I did. I often
felt
exhausted after we went over my cases, and I would argue with him
about whether
it was really necessary to do all the things he was recommending.
Sometimes I
ignored his advice and pursued a more business oriented approach,
such as
resolving a matter by a phone call where he recommended a long letter.
When Barry fell ill and retired from litigation, he devoted himself
full-time to advisory
work. Although his charges had always been very modest, he stopped
charging me
and asked instead that I make donations to favorite causes. After
he lost a good
deal of his eyesight, he was not able to review documents as thoroughly
as before,
but the quality of his advice never diminished.
We exchanged emails practically daily, and sometimes several times
a day. We
were both interested in computer systems and political issues. Despite
his various
health problems, Barry remained active in supporting different causes.
He seemed
to be on many forums, with a wide range of interests.
While everyone who knew Barry would label him a workaholic, he found
time for
random acts of kindness. When my dog was near death, Barry sent a
touching
email: “Marjory, we hope and pray for full recovery. I know
how much your pet
means to you."
– Barry and Dee
On another occasion, when I was considering withdrawing from representing
a
client who had become verbally abusive and accusatory, Barry took
time to calm
me down and counsel me to consider her disability and not take her
comments
personally. He suggested I hang in there another six months or so
since I had
already spent years on her case. I sensed a deep kindness in him,
a compassion
for human suffering. I followed his advice and ultimately the client
thanked me for
sticking by her when she went through her “paranoid period."
I remember Barry’s humor. Although he always seemed so serious,
he saw the
funny side of things. He had a sharp wit, and could characterize someone
in a few
pithy words. While he usually saw straight into the heart of the matter,
he seemed
remarkably naïve about the role politics plays in appointing
commissioners.
Everyone who knew him knew how eager he was to be named to the Workers’
Compensation Appeals Board, an honor which eluded him. He did not
seem bitter, although he must have been disappointed that the appointment
he had been promised never came through.
Barry nearly died in 2001. After his recovery, he wrote an article
urging everyone to
write a will, something he had neglected for so many years. We talked
about his
close call with death, and he said “not yet.”
The last email I got from Barry was sent the evening of December 30,
2003. In the
ensuing silence, I imagined he was busy with New Year's festivities.
In fact, as I
found out in January, he was in the hospital. Several weeks later,
he died.
He did not live to see 30 years of struggle to improve the rights
of injured workers
reduced almost to ground zero with the passage of SB 899 in April
2004. Barry
would have forged ahead, testing the law, writing briefs, doing what
ever was
necessary to restore the rights promised by the State Constitution.
He would do
this through the attorneys he mentored as the time for him to do it
through his own
cases had long passed.
His memorial service drew a huge crowd. There were people from all
walks of life,
from former clients to former opponents. Everyone had their Barry
story, and many
shared them.
Among the throng were many he had mentored. He had a remarkable capacity
for
making people feel he was their friend as well as their mentor, that
their
relationship was special. For many of us, he truly was “Barry
Wonderful.”
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