Editorial
Front Page - Friday, February 5, 2010
Chattanooga attorney Arvin Reingold tells it like is it
David Laprad
Arvin Reingold was not seeking fortune or fame when he decided to become an attorney. Rather, he saw the legal profession as a way to do something meaningful. More than 50 years later, he can feel confident he’s done just that.
“I looked upon it as a true profession,” the 79-year-old lawyer says. “I could’ve found other things I would’ve enjoyed doing, but when it comes to what you do for a living, you have to be rewarded in a way other than monetarily or materially. You have to make a difference.”
For Reingold, that meant representing David as he went up against Goliath. “My heroes are people like John Adams. He was not well thought of. He was considered a maverick. But he’s my hero because he took on an unpopular cause – the defense of one of the British soldiers who fired on the people at Boston.”
Reingold also admires Harold Medina, who defended one of the German saboteurs who landed in Long Island during World War II. Although the court appointed Medina to defend the man, the federal government ostracized him for taking the case of a Nazi. “He was doing what the law required him to do,” Reingold says. “People have a habit of associating the case with the attorney, but our Constitution and Bill of Rights give defendants the right to counsel.”
Many people over the years have benefitted from Reingold’s strong ideals, although few of their cases have been Biblical or historical in nature. When pressed for an example, Reingold mentions going to bat for a man who owned a pizzeria named Pizza Caesars when Little Caesars took him to federal court over a trademark issue. “That was rewarding,” he says. “It saved him quite a bit of money. He’d already sold the business but guaranteed the name.”
A conversation with Reingold can turn into a comparative lecture about how the legal profession has changed over the years. What’s more, the spirited lawyer precedes a lot of his statements with “This might anger some of my friends in the Bar ...” But Reingold isn’t trying to stir up trouble. Once he’s gotten something off his chest, he might try to dispel any notion he’s judging another person. “The people from Little Caesars are wonderful,” he says. “When the trial was over, we received a nice letter from the lady who was general counsel at the time.”
Reingold has not only spent his life defending the proverbial little guy, he’s remained one himself. Throughout his career, he’s either worked alone or in a small partnership with people who shared his philosophies and with whom he had good chemistry. A career at a large firm was never in his plans.
“A small practice is more rewarding,” he says. “I’ve not become a slave to time sheets and weekly firm meetings. I’m not putting down people who go that route, but I chose to do it this way. Some people like working at a small business; others enjoy the corporate life. To each his own. There are good people working in both.”
Reingold attributes most of his ideals to his mother and father’s DNA. The son of Russian immigrants, his parents moved from New York City to Chattanooga when he was 13. Reingold spent his teen years going to public school and working in the grocery story his mother and father owned on what’s now Riverfront Parkway. Following his graduation from the University of Chattanooga, where he took political science, with an eye on becoming a public administrator, he entered the military and “took a bride.”
When Reingold returned to civilian life in 1954, he opted to change course. Instead of attending graduate school, he enrolled at the University of Knoxville College of Law, which had about 150 students at the time. “Everyone was there for one purpose: We wanted to practice law,” he says.
Reingold passed the bar exam in 1957 and was working the next day, building what would become a respected general litigation practice. While his modest accommodations in the Park Plaza Building on Market Street suggest he hasn’t become wealthy, he’s not complaining. “My family and I have lived a comfortable life,” he says. “Besides, you can’t wear but one suit at a time.”
Perhaps not, although Reingold does add a robe to his ensemble on Tuesday nights as he prepares to serve as the city judge of the East Ridge Municipal Court. As with his law practice, he says the position allows him to make a difference in the lives others. “The East Ridge court is the doorway to the justice system for hundreds of people,” he says. “It’s quite rewarding when I offer my thoughts to someone and they say ‘Thank you,’ even when I’ve just fined them for speeding and told them to slow it down.”
Although busy, Reinhold slows down enough to spend time with his wife, Lillian, and stay in touch with their two children and six grandchildren. He says he’s proud of his son, who lives in Chicago, and his daughter, who resides in Atlanta, and speaks highly of their respective spouses. “If you have family, friends and your health, you’re OK,” he says.
Although Reingold enjoys talking about his family, he returns to the subject of work as he offers his closing thoughts.
“I don’t want to be known as a super lawyer,” he says. “I like to try cases and win, and I enjoy beating the tar out of big insurance companies, but I just want to be known as a decent person and a good lawyer who has the respect of his peers.
“Because of my accent, people are always asking me where I’m from, and I tell them the west side,” he says, laughing. “And I’m grateful for that. Moving here was the wisest thing my parents ever did. It’s a great place to live, to raise children and to practice law. I’ve had a good life.”
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