In the counsel of many, there is wisdom.
That is a paraphrase of an Old Testament quote that I used in the opening of the securities class action we tried to a jury earlier this month in Judge Ed Kinkeade’s court in Dallas.
It applied to our defense, which was rooted in the good faith efforts of the hard-working people of ExxonMobil in putting together the 2015 10-K that was at the heart of the plaintiff’s allegations of securities fraud under Rule 10b-5. But it also applied to the team that tried and won the case, a combination of firms and lawyers that came together to produce a winning result in a very rare circumstance — a full blown jury trial of a securities class action.
Neither the client nor the lawyers originally envisioned a trial with three law firms. It was supposed to be two firms: Winston & Strawn and Paul Weiss. That was plenty of horsepower, for sure. But unexpected events intervened.
A few months before the trial, I had the opportunity to move to King & Spalding in Dallas. And my longtime partner Scott Thomas decided to help open up the Dallas office of another firm, Latham & Watkins. So then there were three firms. The client team, led by Patrice Childress, was supportive and understanding, but the message never wavered: Win because there would be no settlement.
It wasn’t my first rodeo. Nor was it my first time working with multiple law firms, which can involve its own kind of wrangling. Throughout my career, I have had the opportunity to do so many times, often when a case is headed for trial. The “logistics” of such an effort can be complicated. Egos. Turf. Remember the old Pace picante sauce commercial with the Texas versus East Coast sauces that ended with, “Get a rope”? Nothing like that here. This team functioned effectively and with great mutual respect from the get-go, whether two firms or three. Other than a stray email to my old address, I can’t think of a single issue that impeded our joint efforts to represent the client with the highest degree of professionalism and skill.

All the great lawyers on this team collaborated in our success. But the secret sauce here was our “Coach.” I am referring to the great Ted Wells of Paul Weiss, a truly legendary trial lawyer.
Ted began this case as the lead trial lawyer 10 years ago but transitioned that role to me while he took a different role in the run-up to trial. Given Ted’s elite skills, it would be easy to invoke the names of Saban or Belichick when describing him. But those names are poor fits. Both men, though great coaches, are famously dour and joyless on the sidelines. Ted Wells? Joyous. Exuberant. Enthusiasm for days. And a great coach — never “you must do this” but always “consider this” or “here’s an idea.”
Relentlessly positive, he was filled with great ideas drawn from decades of representing nearly every kind of client in every kind of case — civil, criminal, individuals, corporations. It would be easier to describe the subject matter he hasn’t mastered because the ones he has would fill a book.
A memorable raconteur, Ted had several lines that will stick with me. Describing good fortune in his life, “I lucked up.” As for the life of a trial lawyer, “contest living,” he called it. And throughout the trial, consistent optimism, “We are going to be OK.”
Speaking of books, I provided Judge Kinkeade a copy of my book with Judge Craig Smith, On the Jury Trial, during our case, and he amusingly made references to it outside the presence of the jury. “Is this your secret?” he asked me on one occasion. I knew better. Our secret was in court every day, on the sidelines but still in the game. In the counsel of many, there is wisdom. In the counsel of Ted Wells, there is wisdom and then some. Thank you, Coach.
Tom Melsheimer is global head of trial for King & Spalding and managing partner of the firm’s Dallas office.
