NewHavenBIZ

n e w h a v e n b i z . c o m | J a n u a r y 2 0 2 0 | n e w h a v e n B I Z 35 Continued on Page 36 Sometimes, Connecticut's most visible lawyers — personal-injury practitioners — find that fame = fortune Hurt's So Good F O C U S : L A W e first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers. — Henry VI William Shakespeare We feel like we know them, per- sonally. And we do — kind of. eir faces stare down at us from count- less interstate highway billboards, the sides of CT Transit buses, in late-night cable TV ads. is is not an accident. Even local practitioners spend in the millions of dollars to buy advertising every year. at's because, when you're in trouble and you need help, they want you to think of them and remember their names. First. Crash your Harley? John Hay- mond's your man. Mauled by a rabid pit bull? Jonathan Perkins. Want to make insurance companies quake in their boots? Trantolo & Trantolo is waiting to take your call. Fear is a powerful action trigger for people who are in crisis and need to do something — and fast. at's the reason for the heavy advertising investment by PI practitioners: When there's an emergency and you need to make a phone call for help — right now — the Carter Marios of the world want you to think of their names — first. But there's also humor. Grand- ma got run over by a reindeer? Brooke Goff, who wants you to know she's a member of the next generation of personal-injury practitioners, smiles down from her I-95 billboards wearing a Santa hat. She's young, she's female, she's got a sense of humor — she's not one of those grim middle-aged white dudes in $3,000 suits. If you're in trouble and you can relate to that — even if no reindeer was involved — call Brooke. She's cool. Among local legal practitioners, personal-injury lawyers are the most visible faces. ey were the first subset of their profession to embrace consumer advertising when the American Bar Associ- ation over time relaxed its ethics code to (reluctantly) allow mem- bers to advertise. Before that, it was considered sleazy — only lowlife ambulance-chasers would slap their 800 numbers on a matchbook cover. "ere are a lot of egos that need massaging," says PI lawyer Keith Trantolo. "But that's nothing new to the law." Also among local lawyers (as opposed to those in big corporate firms in New York and Washing- ton), PI lawyers earn the highest incomes, on average. at's a decent tradeoff for having to put your mug on the side of a bus to generate phone calls. ey're also held in relatively low esteem by members of the public. ere's a connection there, too. A mbulance chaser. at's about the basest form of profes- sional slur, summoning the specter of the lawyer wildly pursuing an ambulance to the emergency room to sign the victim of whatever up as a client. (As befits the legal profession, am- bulance-chasing even has a fancy name: barratry. It sounds almost respectable.) With such big bucks at stake, perhaps it's no surprise that many PI practitioners are cutthroat-com- petitive. Carter Mario refused to be interviewed for this article if it also included certain of his competitors. (And this from a guy who slaps his mug on the sides of buses.) A common misconception of PI lawyers is that they spend much of their time in courtrooms arguing Grandma's case against PI lawyers often use fear to generate phone calls, but humor can attract attention, too. By Michael C. Bingham

• Cover