Eulogies for Stanley Preiser
Delivered by Monty Preiser
12/21/09
As you might suspect, my Dad, the world’s ultimate planner and preparer, left written directions for this very day. What stands out in these pages is his fervent wish that neither this day, nor his death in general, be a time for sadness. He believed life should go on, and those who cared about him should not be overcome with grief and sorrow. That is how he lived – full of life and always looking toward tomorrow - and that is what he wished for all of us.
I don’t think Dad ever thought he would make it through his 60’s, much less into his 80’s. In his younger years his drive for professional success found him working all night at least twice a week. Couple that with 3 packs of cigarettes and a half dozen cigars a day, and then sprinkle in a few large pepperoni pizzas weekly and good dose of alcohol on the weekends, and you had a recipe for an early death.
In fact, in 1967 his good friends Gloria and the late David Bass gave him an engraved plaque - a sort of commendation for the achievement of actually reaching 40.
But fortunately, using that incredible discipline of his, one night he stopped smoking --- cold turkey. And that decision, along with an extra reason for living in the then recent birth of his grand-daughter Blair, who he adored from her first breath, helped pull him through a serious heart attack in early 1982. And from there until two years ago when his heart finally betrayed him permanently, he was, thanks primarily to his superb doctor and even better friend Seth Baum, a relatively healthy guy living a life that was admired by all.
Nevertheless, Dad made sure his family was prepared for his death, even going so far as to buy the caskets, choose his pall bearers, buy his burial plots, make sure Rabbi Urecki would be able to officiate, and arrange the music and beverages for after this service, which, surprise, will be Al Jolson singing accompanied by fine wine and spirits. With a bit of humor, I can relate to you now that this stage direction of Dad’s became quite a pain for his family. He lived so much longer than he thought he would that for years we had to take notes on the friends du jour, who the pallbearers would be (they changed every 3 years or so depending on who was still young enough to serve), etc., etc. But this was Stanley Preiser at his best – trying to take the burden off his family, as he did for countless friends, family members, and clients over five decades.
However, as I alluded to, it all caught up with him in the past two years, and though he had a relatively pain free six months during this time, for the past 7 months or so he was not comfortable, or able to really enjoy living. But two years of life is two years of life. In some of our last conversations Dad came to recognize his good fortune in being able to see Blair graduate law school and become a valued member of one of the world’s great firms. He was able to see, and emcee, his beloved wife Joyce’s 80th birthday party. He was overjoyed that my sister Terri showed such courage and resiliency in overcoming a serious injury to her arm. He was able to see his grandson Justin help establish a nationally recognized magazine and become engaged to a lovely young lady, Stacey Long. And he was able to be in Las Vegas for his induction into the American Trial Lawyers Hall of Fame with the likes of Johnny Cochran, Justice Thurgood Marshall, and Clarence Darrow. As an aside, Dad was pretty happy to be the one member of that group not getting the award posthumously.
Some of you present never had the opportunity to know my Dad when he was strong and robust, which he was most of his life, and for which he was most proud. He was an excellent physical specimen who into his 70’s would still invite you to try out a punch to the stomach. But it was his mind that enthralled and amazed most people.
-He could recall names of cases and their holdings from 50 years ago.
-He could try any kind of litigation since he could easily and quickly learn medicine, mechanical engineering, tax law, banking procedures, pathology, aeronautics, ballistics, or anything else.
-And his imagination and creativity won many a case. I remember he would often say to me that “Anyone can lose a case, but it takes a truly dedicated lawyer to win them.” He would then ask to be left alone when he would, as he called it, simply “cerebrate,” and figure out a way to win, which he did (and this is not empty hyperbole) perhaps more often than any other trial lawyer in history.
There were so many people in awe of Dad. But what he really enjoyed was a good debate or discussion with friends who allowed him to be himself, and who had superior minds themselves – like a Cyril Wecht, a Howard Specter, a Tom Worrell, a John Romano, a Robert Volpe, a Gregg Rosen, a George Mahfood, or an Alvin Preiser. He loved a good verbal joust with long time friends and family he respected – like from his late brothers in law Eddie Kerman, and Lionel Garner, his brother in law Si Wolfe, his nephew Douglas Preiser, former associate Trigg Salsberry, and his Boca Grove close pals Gene Pagher and Howard Weiss. And he loved loyal friends, some of whom stayed in close touch with Dad during his waning moths, such as Jim Humphries and Harry Dietzler.
If there was one question I was asked more than any other through my life, and I’m sure it was because I followed Dad into the law, the inquiry was, “It must have been very hard to grow up with Stanley as a father. [stress period]” You may have noted it was never really put to me in the form of a question, but a declaration – to most people it just had to be true.
Yes, there were some difficult times for me with a few lawyers Dad had been “sending to the showers” for years, and for Terri as well, as she fought off jealousy of her success in the equestrian world. But these people were few and far between – a truly negligible number in fact compared to the friends we had
waiting for us in all walks of life because of their great and lasting relationships
with our Dad. I know of few people who inspired as much loyalty as did Stanley, and even fewer who gave of themselves to the extent that he did every day of his life. There are, and were, literally hundreds of family members, friends, and clients who owe vast debts of gratitude to Dad for his help in the most trying of times, as well as his continued friendship and counsel as the years went on. Having Stanley Preiser on your side was better than an Allstate Insurance policy.
For my sister and myself, other benefits were particularly advantageous. From an early time in our lives education was stressed. Terri and I were invited to learn a new word every day to present to the family at the dinner table (where high economics were taught since we earned a dime per word). Dad took me to my first baseball games - minor league in Charleston, WV, and then to a Pittsburgh Pirates doubleheader with the Cardinals where through his contacts I sat with Stan Musial and Roberto Clemente in between games. How many kids can make that claim? Dad taught me to play football, as he had been an all state lineman at Charleston High and a possible college player at Virginia before blowing a knee. In fact, I still throw a pretty spiral. And he took me to see West Virginia play Pitt when I was but 12 years old, establishing for me a lifelong love of the Mountaineers, and a feeling for Pitt I won’t mention because we have so many esteemed Pittsburghers in attendance today. But they understand.
It was harder for a father to do so much with a young daughter 45-50 years ago, but in an effort to keep a 4 year old Terri quiet, he once made a promise to buy her a horse when she turned six. He thought she would forget. She didn’t. So into the family came Lady Gayle, a horse of questionable worth who became a champion. And thus began Dad and Terri’s careers in the horse business (he as a stable owner and sometimes horse show and rodeo producer, and she as a world class rider). It was in this arena where the two of them could bond.
Sports, dinners, horses - it seemed to us Dad was always around. But the reality as we now know it is that he wasn’t there as much as we remember because his work was so time consuming. However, to leave us with that illusion of participation, means that the time Dad did spend with us had to be of great quality.
Of course, it isn’t at issue that Dad outworked all other lawyers and became as famous to his legal brethren as those names you know so well because they employed high power PR firms, such as Gerry Spence, Mel Belli, Lee Bailey, Johnny Cochran, and all the others who handled most of the important cases of those decades. And when these gentlemen needed help (there were no women trial lawyers of high fame in those days) - when these lawyers needed help they often called on Dad. And I knew them, and had the opportunity to work with some of them over the years.
So growing up as Stanley’s children provided Terri and me far more benefit than problem in most every aspect, from ethical teaching to education, from family history to financial stability, and in support for all endeavors, including for Sara and me the transition from lawyer and mother to wine writers/magazine publishers (for which approval Dad only gave once he finally came to Napa and saw we were serious, and not just drinking wine all day).
Now, Mom, we know Dad missed something important to Terri and me. It’s a good thing you were there to instill in us our great love of the arts and music, which have been such vital parts of our lives. I’m also grateful for something just as notable - that you were there to insist Dad pay me a fair (OK, maybe a bit more than fair) salary when I first came to work, other members of the firm notwithstanding. I was, after all, his son. To a mother a little extra for HER son seemed fair. Not surprisingly, it did to me too.
The two most important things about life, according to Dad, are that people should do their best, and that their primary responsibility should be their family.
Stanley Preiser received an A+ in achieving these goals, the same scores he received, as a matter of fact, in all his law school classes, where he graduated with the highest grades ever from the University of Louisville law school. In reaching his goals, he left behind a part of him in each of his children and grandchildren.
In his grandson Justin he left great business acumen and an ability to see the world as it really is.
In his granddaughter Blair he left a stellar legal mind and apparently (though Sara and I had hoped differently) a love of the court room.
In his daughter Terri he left his idealism that there was always something over the next horizon that would add to the enjoyment of many.
For his daughter Sara (for he never called her his daughter in law) he left the memories of having a father, and a pretty great one at that. You see, her Dad had died when she was too young to really remember much about him, and she had over 31 years of Stanley in her life. But the story that tells it all as to Sara and Dad’s relationship is that when Sara and I got married Dad promised Sara’s mother that he would always take care of Sara. Just before the time came when he could no longer hold a conversation, Dad took Sara aside and told her thought he had held up the promise he made to her mother, and now he asked for one from Sara - to take care of Joyce.
And as for what Dad primarily left me, well, if I had to choose one thing, I think watching him for 50 years instilled in me a hatred of bullies, in whatever form.
-I watched him take on insurance companies who refused to pay contracted for funds to people on disability.
-I watched him take on, and take down, judges who bullied lawyers because of their sex or religion.
-I watched him take on the Federal Government in the form of U.S. Attorneys, IRS agents, and special agents, who all thought they had a free run at whomever they indicted or threatened to indict.
-I watched him write one the broadest and first open housing laws in the U.S. because he hated the treatment suffered by the African American as early as the mid 60’s.
-And I saw him come to the aid of the man or woman on the street who had little materially, but was being taken advantage of by nothing more than a local store that sold him or her a bum product, and would not take it back.
It didn’t matter how rich or poor someone was – if their cause was just, Dad was their champion, no matter how powerful or influential the bully.
As most of you know, Dad had become a shadow of himself in these last months. He could not breathe without serious levels of oxygen, he could no longer walk without help, his voice was gone, and he was ultimately house bound. He finally did not really want people to see him. Yet his love for his family was still apparent. Every time I came to the house he would ask in a raspy voice, “What’s new?” which was his code for, “Can I help you with anything?” And he always wanted to hold Mom’s hand, and perked up when she gave him a kiss. That was beautiful . . . .
But, chronic Congestive heart failure is not a pretty thing. Oh,That Fickle Heart.
I have thought it a paradox that the man with the finest heart of anyone I knew should come to his end because that heart had failed him. But one of the
country’s best lawyers, and one of my Dad’s best friends, Gary Gober of Nashville, probably put it best when I mentioned this irony. He said that Stanley’s heart failed because he gave so much of it to so many different people and causes.” I think he is right.
My family thanks all of you for coming today. Dad would have liked your being here as he did not think many people would show up. They came, Dad, and but for the horrible eastern weather other good friends would have been here as well.
We’ll all miss you Dad. I’ll miss you more than I ever told you. But you are at peace, and for that we are all grateful. No one loved his family more than you. . . and we love you – that you knew, and I believe still know.
We don’t have a glass in hand as we sit here, but my father’s toast was always the same – to Victory, for he believed that when you have victory you have it all. So here’s to you Dad as you prepare that next case for whomever needs help up there.
Victory !!
Please click here for the Eulogy delivered by Rabbi Victor Urecki