Attorneys may well be the most maligned professional group on the planet. However, there are a few attorneys who actually deserve some or all of the jokes told. This is a story about one of those ‘deserving’ attorneys – who, for some reason, preferred to be called a lawyer.
Franklin Chase had an ego about the size of the State of Arizona. He believed himself to be the brightest, most intelligent attorney in the Town of Payson. His secretary, Margie Bloom, knew the true man. She was aware of his many and various shortcomings. Margie often said that Frank would bend the law so far she was afraid he’d break it. It was not until she was closing the office for good that she discovered he had broken the law, several times.
Franklin Chase believed also that he was ‘God’s gift to woman’ and frequently made untoward, unwanted advances to women he found attractive. One of those women was Merijean Watson. Merijean moved to Payson when she inherited a house from her Uncle Clarence. She proved to be a worthy adversary in Frank’s little games and that upset the lawyer to lengths unimagined by the normal man. This story also tells that tale.

If you want to find out anything about a small town, work for the local newspaper. My job was to handle classified ads and maintain circulation files. There was no home delivery for the paper. Before each issue was printed, labels were run and handed off to the pressman. After the paper had been printed, someone affixed the labels to newspapers and took them to the post office. They would arrive in the next day’s mail at your home or in your post office box. The balance of the run was kept in the office. One of my jobs was to fill the news boxes standing outside the front door. And to put one paper into the archives. That was probably the most important thing – archiving a paper.

My hours were 8 to 1 every day.

An amazing assortment of people came to the newspaper office. Some came to place an ad; others came for other things. It surprised me to learn there were seven attorneys in Payson. Seven. One for every 700 citizens or so? Many legal secretaries came in – some to have a legal notice printed, a dba or sale of assets or something, while others came to place ads for clients. Having worked for attorneys so long I could pretty well be sure if they were on the right track legally. One secretary would bring in the information for a legal notice and ask me to drop it into the blanks. She couldn’t have produced the legal notice alone. But, then, why should she have to? The newspaper had all the forms. That was another part of my job – to be sure the form file was updated; old forms filed away and new forms put in place. It surprised me how often common forms were replaced with some minor adjustment determined by the county, state or government that issued the form.

I met all the business people. If Mrs. Levesque wasn’t in, it was up to me to help with a display ad. There was a chart and I soon knew how to measure column inches and all that stuff. It was interesting work. I knew a very large part of the population of Payson in a short time.

One afternoon a man came in and asked if I would care to meet him for a drink after work. I didn’t have a clue who he was. He wore bib overalls, really beat up boots and sported a large, unruly mustache. He wore a hat that may have been a Stetson at one time but was slouched and water stained. I told him thank you but no thank you. He looked absolutely stunned! Like a deflated balloon he seemed to wilt and had nothing else to say. I watched him leave. He walked down the sidewalk, going south. There were two small strip malls south of the newspaper. One on either side of a small street that tied into the highway from the west. He could be going anywhere.

One of the paste-up guys was standing in the open work area and came up to me. “What in hell did you say to Frank?”

“Who?”

“Frank Chase.”

“Who is Frank Chase?”

“The guy that just walked out of here.”

“He invited me to have a drink after work. One, I get off early afternoon. Two, I don’t know who he is. Three, why would I want to have a drink with a guy who looks like he just fell off his tractor?”

The paste up guy roared. “That’s hilarious. Fell off his tractor. Merijean, that’s Franklin Chase. He believes himself to be the best lawyer in town. He spends a lot of money, tells a lot of jokes, shakes a lot of hands. If that makes him the best, he might be. Whether or not he is is another matter. But he sure thinks he is.”

“Well, la-de-dah, how am I supposed to know that? I don’t drink with strangers.”

“Oh, he would convince you in a very short time that he’s not a stranger.”

“He certainly looks strange to me.”

The paste-up guy went back to work, laughing loudly and chanting, “Strange, strange, strange.”

The next day a large bouquet of flowers was delivered to the paper – with my name on them. Mrs. Levesque accepted the flowers and read the card. “You really need to learn who the important people are in this town. Frank Chase”

I thought it was pretty damn nervy of her to open and read aloud a card addressed to me. I held my tongue but it did tick me off a bit. She’s an older lady; I’m a new employee.

“What’s this all about, Merijean?” She brought the flowers to my section of the desk and sat them in front of me. She waggled the card between two fingers. “Have you had a set to with the infamous Mr. Chase?”

“I don’t know Mr. Chase, Mrs. Levesque.”

“Really? I heard he was in here yesterday inviting you to a have a drink with him.”

“That farmer?”

She nodded. “That farmer is a wealthy, influential man in Payson. He’s one of the best lawyers in Gila County.”

“You have to be kidding.” There was absolutely nothing else I could think to say. “If that guy is a brilliant lawyer, I’m Marilyn Monroe.”

“Well, Marilyn, I’m just telling you what I’ve heard and he believes.”

After she left, I took the bouquet to the table inside the front door that had some advertising stuff on it. Not only didn’t I want it close to me, it was too big for a front desk environment. I realized I had a bit of a predicament. I should send this guy a thank you. But I wasn’t thankful. I felt like he was trying to buy my time or something. What an egotist. Who is this guy, really?

I shouldn’t have worried. Mr. Important Frank Chase came into the newspaper office the next day. “Well, I see my flowers arrived.”

I looked up. “Yes. They did.” I went back to working on the ad that I had just taken over the phone.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

“That wasn’t very convincing, Miss Watson.”

What? Not only is he a brilliant lawyer but an etiquette expert as well?

“I am very sorry I am not very convincing, Mr. Chase. Thank you for the flowers. They are very pretty.”

“That’s better. Now, how about a drink when you get off work?”

“I am sorry, Mr. Chase. I do not drink in the early afternoon. But thank you.”

He started through the office; around the reception desk and toward Mr. Pearce’s office. I stood up to stop him but he charged on. “Jack, what the hell time does this new employee of yours get off work?”

My boss came out of his office and took the lawyer by the arm and turned him around to face the door. “Frank, you do not come storming into my office when I am busy. Miss Watson leaves at 1. Now go away.” He returned to his office and left the brilliant lawyer standing in the middle of the lobby with his mouth open.

He said nothing to me as he stomped out the door. Why do I have the feeling I’ve made an enemy? There was something about that guy that gave me the creeps.

I went back to work on the ad; setting the type for it and developing it for paste up.

BUY NOW