As Joe and I were driving to his basketball game Saturday afternoon after a birthday lunch for his grandmother at M.L. Rose on Charlotte Avenue, I got a call from my old friend, Carl Spining. It was an odd time for Carl P. to be calling - Saturday afternoon - so I wondered if anything was wrong.
I find myself at an age where a call from an old friend can be disquieting in the sense that I immediately hope everything is all right.
Sadly, my fear was well placed as Carl P. was calling to tell me that Richard Sebastian - the Wolf - died the previous night.
I was stunned, as I hadn't even known he was sick. In typical Richard fashion, he had kept his illness a secret since he was diagnosed in early January, less than two months ago. Richard was relatively private about his personal life to almost everyone except his closest friends, I think.
I've known Carl P. for 40 years. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to high school and college together, although he was a year behind me. He was my closest friend in law school. We started together law school at UT together in the fall of 1990 and were in the same section, so we had almost all of our classes together. In fact, I drove Carl P. to the hospital when Erin went into labor with their oldest, Molly, while we were sitting in class during our second year of law school. I was the first one in the hospital room - after her immediate family - to see Erin holding Molly after she was born. I also was at Molly's wedding a few years ago, too. Bookend experiences for me.
As we talked on Saturday, I could tell Carl P. was stunned by Richard's death. They worked together at Ortale Kelley, an old school Nashville law firm, for almost three decades. On top of that, they were extremely close, particularly in the years when Carl P.'s four children were younger.
Those were different days to be sure, when everyone - attorneys and staff - worked at the office every day. There was a camaraderie and a closeness between attorneys at law firms that I don't think exists now in the same way, given that so many attorneys and staff work remotely at least part of the time. The pandemic changed all that, to be sure, and what was a profession seems to have become more of a job.
At any rate, Richard and Carl P. spent a lot of time together, at the office and away from the office. I'm sure Carl P. was profoundly affected by Richard's death, which is understandable. 59 is too young for anyone to die.
Why the Wolf?
That has been my name for Richard for many, many years. I took it from Harvey Keitel's character in Pulp Fiction (1994), Winston Wolfe (aka the Wolf), a cleaner for the mafia. In real life - to me, anyway - Richard was the Wolf.
Richard was the managing partner at Ortale Kelley for almost 20 years, succeeding Bill Ortale at a relatively young age. Running a law firm is no easy task, particularly since so many of the attorneys have egos and strong opinions on almost everything, especially money and how it's divided among partners. Every law firm is organized differently, of course, but it's very unusual for one person to be a managing partner for more than a few years. Richard was in that position for nearly two decades, which is very, very rare.
Always quietly and always behind the scenes, Richard got things done. He just did. Inside Ortale Kelley and in the Nashville legal community, as well. If you needed something, you called Richard Sebastian. Always discreet. Always able to keep a secret. Richard always "knew a guy," just the guy you needed to talk to if you had problem.
If you had procedural or legal question in a complicated piece of litigation, Richard was your guy. If you needed a transmission pulled from your car and a new one installed, Richard was your guy. If you had a complicated real estate transaction with multiple players that needed to be closed, Richard was your guy. If you needed to dispose of a body or launder money, Richard was your guy.
I'm kidding about the last part. Sort of.
If you needed help - and this isn't a joke - with anything at all, you called Richard. My guess is that no single lawyer in the last 30 years helped more people, including lawyers, than Richard Sebastian.
Richard was loyal to his friends - inside and outside of Ortale Kelley - and he always was willing to help you or your client. No questions. He was everyone's consigliere and because of that, he probably died keeping more secrets than anyone in Nashville.
Years ago, a divorce client of mine was in a bind because he had committed to buying a couple of condominiums in a new development in the Gulch. The economy had turned, he was getting divorced, and money suddenly was very, very tight. He desperately needed out of the deals and called me after he had gotten a letter from a young lawyer at Ortale Kelly threatening legal action to enforce the contracts if the deals didn't close as planned.
I called Richard, of course, and he told me he'd look into it and get back to me. Within a day, Richard called me back. He had talked to the developer - someone he knew well, of course - and intervened on my client's behalf. Richard told me to write him a letter explaining, in detail, my client's financial difficulties and circumstances, which I did. He talked to the developer again. And, just like that, my client was off the hook and I looked like a hero because I had saved him three of four hundred thousand dollars.
I didn't do anything other than know who to call. Richard did all of the work. Gladly and without expecting anything in return. Why? Because he was my friend.
The Wolf.
Richard and I stayed in touch over the years and, occasionally, our paths crossed. He might refer a client to me or ask for help on someone's behalf. He had relationships like that with lawyers and people all over the city.
If I had to venture a guess, not many lawyers outside of Ortale Kelley and the Nashville real estate community are lucky enough to have known Richard Sebastian the way I did. That's their loss.
Richard Sebastian was a legend. It's very hard to believe he's gone. I'll miss knowing he's out there, a phone call away, nodding his head and smiling when I call him to check in or ask for a favor.
Long live the Wolf.