Christian & Small mourns the loss of our Founder and Partner Thomas W. Christian, who passed away on Monday, February 25. Partner Sharon D. Stuart delivered one of the eulogies at his memorial service, and her remarks can be found below.
In 1994, when I had been at our firm a little over a year, my mentor, boss and dear friend Ed Elliott walked into my office and told me he was leaving the firm to take a job as in-house counsel. I was devastated. But, as with all things, God was in control, and He knew – although I did not – that through Ed’s departure, He would bestow upon me one of the greatest blessings of my life – the blessing of having Tom Christian as a mentor, law partner, dear friend, and, as many have heard me say over the years, sort of a second dad.
Tom quickly became one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He was the perfect mentor. He was full of encouragement and his advice was always constructive and kind. He had very high expectations and he made quick judgments about a person’s ability, and their character. If he liked, you, he liked you. Period. Once you won his trust, he had your back. He gave me lots of rope, but was always there, just in case. From day one, even when I was a young associate, he introduced me as his “partner.” I was never his equal, but he always made me feel that I was. And I was not unique. Many others would tell you the exact same thing.
At the same time, Tom, or “Mr. C” as we called him, was also the perfect gentleman. He always made me walk on the inside of the sidewalk, away from the street. He always opened the door for me. He refused to let me buy lunch, ever.
Over 25 years, we worked together constantly. We spent a lot of time together – some of it was fun, some of it was fun in a sick sort of way, and some of it was downright painful. And I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.
For years, our offices were at opposite ends of the hall. If he needed me, he’d walk out in the hall and yell my name. It always made me laugh. I spent countless hours in his office, on conference calls, talking about cases, talking about life, trying to help him use his computer. We traveled all over North America. We always seemed to get lost. He nicknamed us “The Get Lost Twins.” When he was stressed, he’d always say we could just quit and open a bait shop.
I learned a lot about Tom over all those years. Some things you may or may not know – he hated meetings. He loved pigs. He collected pigs. I never knew why. He loved Cincinnati Chili. He loved his cat, Morris. He once sent me a picture of Morris peering into the new birdbath, and asked “do you think any birds will use my fancy new birdbath?” In the old days, Tom often had insomnia, and he’d wake up in the middle of the night and listen to the radio host Art Bell. The next morning, he would regale me with whatever he heard on Art Bell’s show the night before. It usually involved some alien sighting or Martian abduction. Tom almost always bought a double shot espresso on his way to work. He loved Cajun country music. Bobby Bare was his favorite. He told me once that, “I have decided to have one of my grandchildren make me a CD of my favorite songs. The first two are: ‘If the phone don’t ring, you will know it’s me’ and ‘If a woman answers, hang up.'”
He had some superstitions – he would not kill a spider or mess with its web.
In Matthew Chapter 5, Jesus tells Christians that we are to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. As Colossians 4:6 tells us, “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” And we aren’t to hide our light under a bushel or a bowl, but put it on a stand and let it shine before others. Tom was salt, and he was light.
Tom loved to laugh. He seasoned every conversation with humor, often dry humor. A lot of people sent him jokes by email. If you ever sent him a joke, chances are he sent it to me.
Tom seasoned his relationships with salt. He loved his family. He constantly talked about how proud he was of his kids and grandkids: when Ed made managing partner; George’s career success; his grandchildren’s basketball and golf successes; laughed about how he’d need to run by Piggly Wiggly to get some fried chicken for dinner, because Dorothy always ate salad; he sent me jokes from Dorothy and George; he talked about how strict Delia was with her kids; and he looked forward to their family trips to the beach.
He seasoned his friendships. His friends knew he loved them. When Alec Newton died, Tom sent me an email: “Alec Newton died on Christmas day. He had been very sick for a long time. I will miss him. He was a good friend. I remember asking Alec for a favor. He did not say “what is it,” he said “you got it.” Tom was salt.
He was also light. Edith Wharton said, “There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” Tom was at many times the candle – he was a shining star as a trial lawyer – as fine as there has been. He founded a successful law firm. He received virtually every legal accolade he could receive. He shone brightly in the legal community. But I always got the feeling Tom was happiest when he was the mirror, reflecting light. He didn’t need to be the center of attention. He loved to empower those of us around him to succeed and then watch us do it. He made sure to let others know he was thinking about them.
There were three ways Tom reflected light that really stick out.
Loyalty – Tom was loyal to a fault. Loyal to his family, his friends, his law firm and his law partners and his clients. Did not tolerate disloyalty. And not just disloyalty to him. If someone was disloyal to one of his friends, that was even worse. His loyalty to his clients was above reproach. He made them all feel like they were the only client he had. All that loyalty made the rest of us want to reciprocate. From time to time someone would call me and ask if I wanted to change firms. I wasn’t interested anyway, but my answer was always the same – I would never do that to Tom.
Gifts – They say everyone has a love language. There’s no doubt in my mind that Tom’s love language was giving gifts. Sometimes took the form of material gifts. He loved to buy gifts for his family, and he put a lot of thought into them. He would often ask for my help, or Debbie Smith’s help, to pick out a gift for his children or their spouses. We went on many shopping trips to Remon’s, and if we had to travel on business near the holidays, he almost always wanted to go shopping to buy presents for his family. We went to malls all over America. He searched high and low for the perfect gift for clients who were retiring, or lawyer friends from around the country who received some honor. He loved to give gifts celebrating Crimson Tide football. Once, he learned that a lawyer friend in New York had a high school son who was a huge Alabama fan. He figured out a way to get them tickets to the Iron Bowl, asked me to take them, and presented the son with some very nice memorabilia. That young man won’t soon forget Tom.
Tom would often send me an email that said, “I have you a present.” It might be an article or a book or a can of Goldstar Chili. One time after he had retired, he emailed me and asked me to look at a website for some aviator sunglasses he wanted to buy Delia for Christmas and tell him which ones I liked. I had a sneaking suspicion that they were for me. So, I picked the ones I thought would look good on me. Sure enough, a week later I got to my office to find them in my chair. When he retired, he offered me his furniture and I took some of it. He sent me an email that said, “You can move the table and two chairs to your office. This table was purchased by Jack Bingham. Jack gave it to Harold Bowron and Harold gave it to me. That little table has seen lots of law.”
But the gifts Tom gave often were more special than material gifts. He constantly gave the gifts of time, thoughtfulness, listening, and help. He was never too busy to ask me how I was doing. He wanted to know what my husband and kids were up to. If someone in my family had an illness, he would search for just the right doctor and make personal calls on our behalf. He never passed up a chance to write a recommendation letter. If he saw a way to help one of his partners advance in their career, he would do everything in his power to make it happen. If someone at the firm seemed unhappy, he wanted to know why and what could be done about it.
He was constantly thinking of ways to help those he cared about. He visited his sick friends and wrote them notes of encouragement. When Richard Ogle was very ill, Tom wrote him and said this – “Richard: I have been thinking about you. You are a good friend. Some years ago I was representing a nurse from Cullman. On the way to the courthouse, she could tell that I was nervous about the case. She told me not to worry because she saw a hawk in a tree that morning and that was very good luck. I am going to find a hawk for you. Tom”
Third, Tom was generous and unselfish. Unlike many senior partners in law firms, he shared his success. He understood the importance of succession planning, and he worked hard to transition his clients to those of us who came behind. He also shared his financial success. He could have made so much more money. Instead, he always pushed those dollars down to younger lawyers. He provided a ladder up to the lawyers around him.
Tom could see beyond his years. Whether he knew it or not, his loyalty, gift-giving spirit and generosity was not lost on us. Those traits established a culture – a legacy – that will live long after he’s departed us.
Tom loved to quote Will Rogers. One of his favorites was “never miss a chance to keep your mouth shut.” I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, so I will take that advice and end with this:
Last night I received an email from a client and good friend of Tom’s. She said, “Among the many fine lawyers I had the good fortune to work with during my career, there were none better than Tom. It was a true privilege to work with this remarkably talented, genuinely kind, immensely successful, hard-working and honorable man. Tom’s graciousness for so many members of our legal team is something we will never forget. The generosity he extended to me personally touched me deeply and I will forever be grateful for the brief but precious occasions when I shared his company. The world is truly a lesser place without him.”
Salt and light.