News Post

By Terri Lovell, Executive Director, Alabama State Bar

This column was originally published in the Fall 2025 issue of The Alabama Lawyer.

When I first became a circuit judge in my rural circuit, I quickly discovered that no one truly sits alone on the bench. The robe may have been mine, but any wisdom I carried came from those who invested in me. I had many trusted voices both inside and outside the courtroom, but there was one lawyer mentor who stood out. He had the rare gift of building me up while never sparing the truth.

He reminded me often that confidence without humility is dangerous, and humility without confidence is equally so. On the days I doubted myself, he gave me perspective. On the days I thought I knew it all, he offered correction. Every young professional should be so lucky to have someone who believes in them enough to encourage and challenge in equal measure.

I can still picture those legal pad notes, scribbled, folded, and quietly left on my desk after court. He should have been doing his own work, but instead he was watching, teaching, and guiding. Even though he can no longer practice, his wisdom keeps coming these days through texts, newspaper clippings, and a few handwritten notes that still both comfort and stretch me.

In time, I realized mentorship runs both ways. One of the hardest roles I had as a judge was telling a lawyer it might be time to stop trying cases or addressing matters no one else wanted to touch. In a small town, that made me part referee, part counselor, and occasionally part bouncer at the professional door. Those conversations were never easy, but they were rooted in the same honesty my mentor once showed me. The profession deserves our best, and sometimes being our best means caring enough to speak the truth with compassion.

What I learned is that truth, when delivered with care, is one of the greatest gifts we can give. Just as my mentors shaped me, I hope I can do the same for others. The law is not just a career; it’s a community. Mentors sustain that community, passing along courage, candor, and care.

At our recent Milestone Luncheon, we honored lawyers who have given 50 years or more to the profession. They reminded me that wisdom doesn’t retire. Their steady presence proves the law is more than cases and statutes; it’s a living tradition carried forward by people who keep giving.

At the end of the day, mentorship, truth-telling, and legacy all call us to leave the profession stronger than we found it. My friend did that for me. May we all do the same. And yes, McGowin, I fully expect comments about this column.