They didn’t show up all at once. A little around the temples after a run of back-to-back felony trials. A little more after a long, sleepless night waiting for a jury to come back on a case that could have gone either way. Years of courtroom advocacy and life as a lawyer will do that. So will running a firm.
Grey hair isn’t a metaphor. It’s evidence. It’s what happens when you practice law long enough to be responsible not just for your own caseload, but for other lawyers in the firm, other families, and the next generation trying to learn how to do this work the right way.
Lawyering isn’t the job they described to you in Law School
No one tells you how much of this job has nothing to do with the law.
No one prepares you for the volume of problems that fall on your desk simply because your name is on the door.
We deal with leaky roofs and maintenance issues that never seem to end.
We troubleshoot printer malfunctions on the morning of trial.
We chase down web developers who disappear the week the site glitches.
And we adjust to court dockets that change without notice, because they do.
We address and resolve issues associated with the mess the North Carolina legal system refers to as “Odyssey.”
Those are the parts of the job that wear you down, slowly.
It’s not dramatic. It’s not something you’ll see in a documentary or courtroom drama.
But it’s very much a part of the day-in, day-out practice of law for busy attorneys.
Most of what we do isn’t glamorous. It isn’t scripted. It’s real. And it matters.
If you’re practicing criminal defense in North Carolina, or handling serious injury claims, family law, or basically any litigation-heavy practice, you already know this profession is not for the faint of heart.
You’re not clocking in at 9:00 and calling it a day at 5:00.
You’re holding the line for people who may never fully understand what you helped them avoid, how much you did behind the scenes, or how carefully you protected their interests when they weren’t in the room.
Managing a law firm means you carry burdens
I still go to court regularly. I like helping people.
That part hasn’t changed, and after more than thirty years in the trenches, it’s the easiest part of the job.
What’s harder, by far, is the business side of running a law firm.
I’ve seen great courtroom lawyers go broke.
I’ve seen brilliant legal minds suffer professional meltdowns.
You don’t stay in this profession for three decades without learning how to wear a dozen hats:
- Trial lawyer
- Mentor
- Technology troubleshooter
- Building supervisor
- Trash taker-outer
- Dishwasher
- Alarm code responder at 2:00 a.m.
There’s no manual for this.
You build systems. You revise them. Then you rebuild them again as things change.
You make hard decisions about which cases the firm will take, and which ones you won’t, even when the client’s story is compelling.
You learn the fine line between being accessible and spreading yourself too thin.
It’s a difficult balance.
Training Young Lawyers: The Hardest Work Worth Doing
If you’ve never watched a brand-new lawyer walk into their first contested hearing, you’re missing something.
They’ve got a file in one hand and everything to prove.
They may get discombobulated over a foundation question, misread a judge’s tone, or freeze when the DA offers an unexpected deal right before arraignment.
That’s normal, and that’s also why you’re there to help, when needed.
It’s supposed to be a slow process. Our’s is a “learned profession.”
You’re not just handling cases and managing a docket.
You’re developing very capable, very compassionate attorneys who share a common vision, who will outlast you and who will hopefully carry on your legacy.
I firmly believe that you become a truly effective attorney when you see the humanity of the court system and recognize the importance of our system of justice in giving people the opportunity to be heard.
You can’t be everything to everyone
Our firm handles criminal defense, impaired driving, serious injury, and family law cases throughout the Charlotte region and across parts of North Carolina.
That doesn’t mean we chase every call from someone who Googles “lawyer near me.”
We don’t take traffic tickets in counties we don’t know.
We don’t promise miracles.
We don’t make guarantees about outcomes.
What we offer is experienced counsel and realistic guidance, grounded in preparation, compassion, and years of dedicated advocacy.
There’s a lot of pressure these days to be everything at once.
Here’s the truth. If the substance isn’t there, the rest doesn’t much matter.
I Have Grey Hair for a Reason
30+ Years of Criminal Defense & DUI Practice
• Sleepless nights waiting for jury verdicts
• 2 AM alarm calls and client emergencies
• Cases that could go either way
• Managing court docket changes
• Training young lawyers
• Making hard decisions about which cases to take
DUI Defense
Serious Injury
Family Law
What a lawyer’s grey hair represents
It means I’ve stood next to clients whose cases made the front page or the TV station promos and opening “tease.”
I’ve also stood next to a client whose case went unnoticed, including by family, but whose life was just as much on the line.
It means I’ve had the hard conversations with helicopter parents, well-meaning armchair quarterbacks, and others.
It means I’ve told clients when they don’t have a good case and when they should cut a deal and plead out.
I’ve told staff when they’re right and when they’re not.
I’ve told lawyers when they need to step up or step out.
And it means I’ve stayed through it all, good times and bad.
If you’re just starting out as a lawyer
You will not learn this job in a seminar.
You will not master it with templates.
You will mess something up.
You may panic before your first hearing.
You may suffer from impostor syndrome.
You may think you’re the only one who’s unsure.
You’re not.
You’ll get better, but only if you care and work really, really, really hard.
And if you’re lucky enough to work in a firm or legal mentor who’s been through it, take notes, ask questions, and listen to the answers.
The lessons don’t come all at once. They build, like silver at your temples.
Why I don’t cover it up
When someone asks me why I don’t dye my hair, I tell them the truth, “Because I earned my grey hairs.”
It’s not just a sign of age.
It’s a sign of responsibility, of working hard on hard cases, of being the one who shows up when it counts for clients, the firm, and for other the lawyers who haven’t yet learned how heavy the job can get.
I have grey hair for a reason.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.