Tribute to Clifford A Bartlett Jr.
It is with deep sadness that we at BBO&C acknowledge and mourn the passing of one of the great trial lawyers of our time- Clifford A. Bartlett Jr. Today would have been his 88th birthday.
“Cliff”, as he was affectionately called, was a mentor, friend, partner, and most importantly, a constant reminder that the practice of law was not only a profession but a privilege.
It seemed like fate that I worked with Cliff as both his associate, and then partner, for 22 years. As an eager 3rd-year law student at St. John’s School of Law, I often pestered my father, then a solo practitioner, about joining him in his law practice. To my surprise, one day when I was carrying my father’s “trial bag” into Supreme Court, he stopped and pointed to a man in a fedora hat surrounded by at least 5 other lawyers and said, “you see that lawyer over there- that's who you want to work for”. I would later learn that the man my father acknowledged was Clifford Bartlett, who had recently opened his own practice.
I was fortunate enough to have listened to my father, and when the opportunity presented itself in August of 1994, I joined Bartlett, McDonough & Monaghan LLP, as a second-year associate. Within days of my association with the firm, the all-powerful Bower & Gardner (commonly referred to as “B&G”), from which Cliff and his partners had left in 1991, disbanded and files from the now defunct giant flooded the hallways of my new firm. As one of the only lawyers who had not worked at B&G, I was relegated to handling all of the files that no one wanted.
To my surprise, one day shortly after I started, Cliff appeared in my doorway and said “hey, what are you doing this afternoon”. He was on trial against Jim Duffy Esq. who Cliff referred to as “The Duff” and picked me to assist him with what he deemed to be a most important task. Historically, Cliff and Mr. Duffy had tried some of the most complex and hard-fought medical malpractice cases in New York. That afternoon, Cliff strategically placed me in the courtroom so that I could watch Mr. Duffy’s face while Cliff cross examined his expert. You see, Cliff had tried so many cases against “The Duff”, that he knew that his face would turn red if he asked a good question. My task that day was to write down those questions that made “The Duff” turn red. In a comical way, Cliff referred to this as “The Duff-ometer". Within minutes of Cliff’s cross examination, “The Duff’s” face got hot red, and I was so shocked that I actually forgot the question that Cliff asked of the “The Duff's" expert. It was at that point that I realized how much I needed to learn about the practice of law that is not taught in law school and how important my association with a legend like Cliff would be to my career.
Cliff treated every case like a professional and he enjoyed trying cases in a courtroom because he believed that the courtroom provided the parties with a place to fight in a civilized way. He would often joke that you could tell who was going to win a bar room fight by the size of the people fighting, but in court, you had to constantly re-evaluate your adversary and the positions of your client because it wasn’t the physical strength but rather the way the lawyers presented the evidence to the jury that would decide the dispute . He was a firm believer in the notion that if a case was properly handled, you could never lose; and that was not because the jury would always decide the facts in your favor; but rather because a win was a win if you lost the case for less than the demand to settle. He understood the importance of learning the case as early as possible because, as he said, “the plaintiffs already know what we don’t” and thus it was our job to debunk their theory or settle the case. He also never believed in a “pot-sweetener” type settlement and would often chastise lawyers in the firm who engaged in such conduct by saying that the government was no longer in the business of giving away land west of the Mississippi, so neither should we.
Cliff never came to the office without a jacket and tie on and was always impeccably dressed in the finest English suits, suspenders, cuff links and impeccably shined shoes. His persona was fueled by the notion that a lawyer who was being paid to represent a client had a duty to dress in the most expensive haberdashery available. To do otherwise was simply not an option. Thus, he was famous for his comments to others like “your shoes almost match each other” or “I saw that tie once in a thrift shop”. He was never to be outdone and he let you know it.
Practicing law with Cliff was also intellectually challenging on a daily basis, not because he would challenge you on the law itself, but rather everything but the law. He was a former Marine, as well as an accomplished athlete who played professional football in Canada. He was extremely well read, self-educated and an expert in a diverse array of disciplines which included French wines, gourmet foods and European history and culture. He had a tremendous breadth of knowledge and life experience that was wholly unconnected to the law and would often intersperse our conversations with esoteric facts about a wide variety of subjects, such that it was wise never to bet against him. If you saw him casually in the hallway, it was never “hey isn't the weather beautiful” but rather “I’ll give you 30 minutes to tell me how many bones there are in the foot”, when he knew the answer was “it depends- each person’s foot is different”.
One day, however, I got him. You’d never believe it but up until his 80th year, he had never been to the beach on Long Island. When I learned that, I immediately challenged him to have dinner with our wives on Fire Island. Cliff prided himself on being a “North Shore” guy (his “residence” was called “Black Acre”), and the idea of getting him on a boat with flip flops on and shorts to of all places Fire Island was only possible with the threat of a magnum of grand cru Veuve Clicquot and lobster. We made it happen, and in typical Cliff-esque fashion, as he was about to put his foot in the Atlantic Ocean with a flute of Champagne in his hand, he said, “you know you were right about one thing, I can’t believe I lived my whole life on Long Island and never did this!”
Cliff, your wit, humor, sarcasm and humility will be sadly missed. Thank you for your wisdom, tutelage and partnership. Our success would never have been possible without you. The values that you exhibited in your professional career impacted both my personal and professional life and I am grateful to have served as your partner, friend and confidant. I pray that you are in a peaceful place and hope to meet you once again on the other side.
Anthony Barbiero
