To the rescue came the Pettigrew boys, two brothers from Bay St. Louis. Their father had been found dead in a tree the day after Camille. The family home, fully insured, was half a mile from the beach and damaged so severely that it was uninhabitable. Their mother was living with a sister in McComb. The insurance company, also ARU, had denied the claim.
The brothers, Gene and Gage, appeared to be twins but were eleven months apart. They looked alike, sounded alike, dressed alike, and had the odd habit of finishing each other’s sentences. They had graduated from law school together at Ole Miss the previous May and opened up a small shop in Bay St. Louis. Camille blew it all away, everything. They couldn’t even find their diplomas.
Their tragedy had made them angry and they were looking for a fight. They read about Jesse Rudy, and marched into his office one day and asked for employment. Jesse liked them immediately, promised to pay them whenever he could, and on the spot inherited two fresh new associates. He dropped what he was doing, locked them in the conference room for a training session, and taught them the exciting ins and outs of reading insurance policies. They left at midnight. The following day, he sent Gage to Camille Ville to meet with some new clients. Gene began intake sessions with the daily drop-ins.
Other lawyers along the Coast were taking similar cases, though nowhere near the volume of Jesse Rudy. They watched him carefully and curiously. The general feeling among the bar was to move somewhat slower, allow Rudy to go first, and hope he nailed the companies in the first series of trials. Maybe then the insurers would come to the table and settle the claims fairly.
For Jesse, the litigation was not without risks. It was clear that water from the storm surge had destroyed many of the homes, especially those close to the beach. Prevailing on those claims would be difficult. If he lost at trial, the insurers would not feel as threatened and would deny even more aggressively. His reputation was on the line. His clients were hurting, often irrational, and not only expecting justice but some retribution as well. If he failed to deliver for them, his career as a trial lawyer would be over and he might as well hide in his office and draft deeds.
If he won, though, and won big, the rewards would be plentiful. He would not get rich, not by winning $8,000 claims, but at least his cash flow would improve. Hammering the insurance companies into submission would bring publicity that no amount of money could buy.
By the end of the year, there was a feeling of outright hatred for the insurance companies. Jesse wanted a trial, in his courtroom in Biloxi, and pushed hard for one. The opposition was formidable. The insurers had wisely decided to hire the big firms in Jackson to defend them, staying away from the Coast lawyers. Jesse had filed over three hundred lawsuits in the circuit court of Harrison County. It was nothing short of a bonanza for the defense firms, and they used every tool and trick available to delay and bury him with paperwork.
The Pettigrew boys proved up to the task and learned more about litigation and discovery in three months than they would have in five years on their own. They urged Jesse to keep filing. They would slog through the mail, keep the files orderly, and fire back at the defense firms.
During the small office party two days before Christmas, Jesse surprised everyone by announcing that he was promoting Gene and Gage to junior partners. Their names would go on the letterhead. The sign out front would now read: rudy & pettigrew, attorneys at law. It was more of a symbolic move than anything else. Real partnerships split the fees, of which there were few.
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Judge Nelson Oliphant, age seventy-one, took the bench, pulled his microphone closer, and looked at the crowd. He smiled and said, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. What a nice turnout. Not sure I’ve ever seen such a crowd for a motion hearing.”
Jesse had packed the courtroom with his clients and told them that under no circumstances should anyone smile about anything. They were angry, frustrated, and ready for justice. They were fed up with the insurance companies and their lawyers, and they wanted Oliphant, one of their own from Harrison County, to know they meant business. He would soon be up for reelection.