W. R. Rip Andrews

There’s a lot that goes into it, but to really succeed in this profession, I’ve come to believe these three qualities are 90% of it: courage, humanity, and humility. 

Courage. You must be unafraid. Following a particularly nasty trial, my wife summed up my job: “They are schoolyard bullies. They’ve already bullied your client once, and now they want to use the trial to do it again. But you walk up, stand next to them, put your hand on their shoulder, steel yourself, and you take it. So they don’t have to. And if it gets bad enough, you punch them in the throat. That’s your job.” 

I have taken on the federal government, the state government and the richest cities in Alabama. I have taken on the largest hospital corporations in America. I have taken on the largest trucking and hauling companies in America, every vehicle and tire manufacturer out there, and some the world’s largest manufacturers of household and other consumer products. And real talk, I am often terrified. But I remind myself relentlessly that my fear pales in comparison to what my clients have already endured, and I put one foot in front of the other.

If they can be brave, I can be brave.

Humanity. I am for the underdog. Always. No exceptions. I’m even an Auburn fan. Because it is people that I care about, that I can talk with, that I can help. The billion-dollar corporations, the other powerful institutions, they have written the rules for themselves. And they are used to pushing people around, and sometimes they are successful in the buildup, but when we end up in that courtroom, they end up having to look at the jury, 12 PEOPLE, who have the absolute say on how this will go down.

It is a powerful moment, and I try to use it to remind myself, that while sometimes people need a lawyer, they don’t ever want a lawyer. They — whether your clients or your jurors — want somebody who knows the law, and can work with the law, but treats them and respects them as any other human would.

I’ve spent most of my spare time over the last half-decade coaching my two daughters and their friends in youth sports. It’s become a real passion. I realized at the end of my first ever practice that they could care less what I did, that they were only interested in who I was. It took me several years to grasp the big reveal: the same is true for everybody else.

Humility. On the front end, when we’re ready to take on a case, our process starts with a sit down with our CLIENTS. It’s their story. We want to hear them tell it, and listen. Then, we go to work. About 10,000 different things go into motion, until finally, one day we’re sitting in a courtroom together.

We know the case in and out. We know the client in and out. But now it’s the back-end, time for closing argument. So what do we do? How do we handle? There’s a longstanding tradition at our firm, at this moment, right before closing argument, we ask our client: “What do you want me to tell this jury?” And they know. It’s always perfect. Because it’s their story, we just help them tell it.

Rip was valedictorian of his law school class in 2007, has been selected as a Super Lawyer since 2011 and has secured multi-million-dollar verdicts over the last decade that rival any lawyer in Alabama, including in some of the state’s most conservative venues. He asked that we not include this paragraph in his bio.