I became involved in this tragedy when Howard Siegel, a colorful and iconoclastic lawyer from Rockville, Maryland, called me...Howard Siegel then proceeded to unlock and unload.  We didn't have what you call a conversation.  It was more a declaration, a piece of oratory, like a closing argument to a jury, with soaring waves of emotion, dramatic pauses and impassioned appeals.  I'd never heard anything like it... I did not want to get involved in this case.  But damn, this Howard Siegel is a relentless son of a bitch. I was beginning to see how they worked.  John exuded an aura of forceful but unassuming competence, a calm, thoughtful, meticulous lawyer.  Howard came off as a wild man in his quieter moments.  As they told me stories about their cases, I could see how the two men made an effective team, with a good guy/bad guy routine that made juries weep and insurance companies shudder.  I couldn't help but like them both -- John for his easy grace, Howard for his unvarnished chutzpah... The problem was I saw no real way to contain the "Howards" that periodically rose up inside Howard...These Howards were magical wellsprings of energy and imagination, they were Wynton Marsalis blowing jazz, they were Michael Jordan floating above the rim, they were fits of cantankerous genius and tweaking creativity.

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