Law Office

The same two boys we met earlier were sitting side by side on the swings in a quiet park south of the pond by the river in Mesa. The river meandered through Gilbert, Chandler, and Queen Creek, creating a serene backdrop for their morning. It was early, the kind of morning where they would usually be groggily preparing for school. But today, the freedom of summer had them up with the sun, eager to make the most of their day.

As they swung gently back and forth, their conversation turned to the old man who lived in the senior home near their neighborhood. They had met him a few days earlier, and he had quickly become their favorite. The man had welcomed their curiosity, treating them with warmth and kindness. When they had asked him about his past, he shared that he had been a lawyer before retiring. He explained that he had worked out of Gilbert, serving people in the Phoenix area. Some called him a lawyer, while others called him an attorney. He patiently explained the slight difference between the terms, ensuring they understood.

What struck the boys most was how genuinely interested the old man seemed in them. He didn’t just talk at them; he listened, engaging in whatever topic they brought up. It was clear to the boys that this was someone worth getting to know, someone who cared enough to share his time and wisdom with them. The boys decided that they would look for him even though it was still early. They walked to the retirement home and found him beside the swimming pool. This seemed to be his favorite place; at least, that was where they usually found him.

“Hey, Mister!” one of the boys called out.

The old man, now accustomed to their lively greetings, smiled warmly. “Good morning, boys. Come sit by me.”

They eagerly joined him, settling in beside him on the bench. One of the boys, his face full of curiosity, asked, “You told us about being a lawyer and helping people. You said you worked in Gilbert and around Phoenix. Did you work from home and travel to where your clients needed help? Or did you have a place to go, like my dad? He goes to the factory daily for work, though I’m not sure what he does there. But he gets paid for it.”

The old man chuckled, amused by the boy’s straightforwardness. He explained, “No, I didn’t work from home. I had a law office in one of the buildings downtown. That’s where I went daily to do my work—except when I was in court. I had a team in the office who helped with all the work needed for my job.”

“What’s an office?” they both asked in unison, their heads tilting slightly as they waited for his answer.

The old man explained that an office, as defined by the courts, is a place for regular business transactions. (see Com. vs. White, 6 Cush Mass 181). For a lawyer, an office is essential—a place where clients can come to discuss their problems and where the lawyer can work on their behalf, preparing for court if needed.

“To do all this,” he continued, “I needed help. That’s why I had a specially trained team working with me. My secretary took care of typing, record-keeping, phone calls, and scheduling appointments. I also had a paralegal. Now, paralegals don’t have to be lawyers; they do need to be educated in the law. They helped with legal research, writing briefs, and drafting legal documents. Then an assistant handled administrative duties, like keeping records, billing clients, and managing fees. And sometimes, I needed an investigator. The investigator didn’t necessarily work in the office. Still, they were crucial in gathering information about people involved in a case, the backgrounds of witnesses, and anything else that might help my client.”

The boys listened intently as the old man described the bustling environment of a law office. “When all these people come together,” he added, “it forms a law office—a place where everyone works as a team to help the lawyer do his job. And, of course, the office has to be presentable. The better it looks, the more likely clients will trust you with their case.”

The boys were full of questions. “How do the employees learn to do all that?” one of them asked. “What exactly does a paralegal do, and where do they go to school?”

The old man smiled at their curiosity. “A paralegal does a lot of the heavy lifting when it comes to research and drafting documents for a case. They usually go to school to study law, but they don’t have to take the bar exam like a lawyer does. If a paralegal decides to take the bar exam and passes, they can become an attorney. Then, with a state license, they could work as an associate lawyer in a firm.”

He continued, “An assistant, on the other hand, doesn’t need to know the law but should be skilled in areas like accounting and office management. They ensure the office runs smoothly so the lawyer can focus on their clients.”

The old man’s voice grew a bit weary as he finished explaining. “I hope that makes sense to you boys,” he said.

Both boys nodded eagerly. “We have many more questions, and you explain things well. We still have a lot to talk about.”

The old man chuckled, glancing at the time. “It’s getting late, and I need to eat to keep up with all your questions. It’s been nice talking with you, but I must rest now. Don’t worry— we’ll have more chances to talk.”

The boys followed him as he slowly returned to his room. As they left, one turned to the other and said, “He’s teaching us so much. Maybe one day we can go to school and become lawyers. I feel like he’s giving us a head start.”

The other boy nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”