A real friend sticks closer than a brother

Editor’s Note: Dan invited former Tennessee Employment Law Letter editor John Phillips to share his memories of business colleague and “lasting friend” Lee Smith.

by John Phillips

In March of 1986, I started The Tennessee Employment Law Update, a monthly newsletter. Some lawyers subscribed to the newsletter, but it was primarily designed for HR professionals.

It was a small operation: me and my wife. I was the writer. She ran everything else. Much to our delight (and surprise), the newsletter did pretty well.

But we quickly discovered that we hadn’t thought of everything involved with the publication of a newsletter—subscription renewals, circulation management, marketing, finding new lists of potential subscribers, and a hundred other things.

About a year after the publication of the first issue, I received a call from Lee Smith of M. Lee Smith Publishers fame. “John, this is Lee Smith. I’ve seen your newsletter and like it. I was wondering if you need any help with it.” I don’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure there was a long pause on my end. I thought, “Need any help!” I tried to be cool about it. In an attempt to interject some weak humor, I said something like, “Is this THE Lee Smith?” He gave an obligatory chuckle and assured me that he was THE Lee Smith. After hanging up, I quickly phoned my wife, who told me that she was submitting her resignation if we didn’t meet with Lee and let him help in whatever way he wanted.

We met in Chattanooga and quickly worked out an arrangement. As Lee was leaving, he gave me an opinion that marked the only disagreement we ever had. He said, “The reason your newsletter has as many subscribers as it does in a relatively short period of time is that you’re not charging enough.” I learned two things from my first encounter with Lee. His timing was almost always impeccable. He also always told you what he thought, even when he knew you didn’t want to hear it.

Over time, we did increase the newsletter’s price—several times. When Lee thought I was being too miserly about the newsletter in one way or another, he would say, “John, we’re only talking about nickels, dimes, and quarters.” We often joked about his introduction to me of his nickels, dimes, and quarters philosophy.

It didn’t take long for Lee to come up with the idea of publishing state-specific newsletters in all 50 states plus the District of Columbia. I helped him find lawyer-editors in the other states, and he was off to the races. Other companies published employment law newsletters covering mainly federal or national employment law issues. Lee’s company had 51 newsletters that covered major federal issues but also issues involving state law, something that was becoming increasingly important in the world of employment law.

From there, we developed several iterations of training videos for supervisors and HR professionals. He began an annual conference for HR professionals, one in the western part of the country (always Las Vegas—people love to go to Vegas) and one in different locations in the eastern part of the country (as it turns out, there is no Vegas in the East).

Lee and I worked together on employment law stuff for 20+ years. We never had a contract. We never had an argument (except over the meaning of nickels, dimes, and quarters). He frequently gave me and others credit for the success we experienced in our joint endeavors. I don’t remember his taking any credit privately or publicly.

The last time Lee and I talked, I finally remembered to tell him that he, above all others, had had the most positive influence on my career. He made little of that pronouncement, but I knew and still know it was the truth.

More than business colleagues, we became lasting friends. We felt that we could talk with each other about anything. We asked each other for advice. We grieved with each other over the deaths of family members. We went to dinners, parties, and ballgames. And that brings me to a story that’s etched in memory—this one not private but very public.

I had always regarded Lee as a mild-mannered guy. I had never seen him get upset or raise his voice—until I attended a Vanderbilt basketball game with him. As soon as the game began, Lee started loudly coaching the players, criticizing the referees, and otherwise making a scene. His seats were on the front row, so his antics were observed by most of the other fans in the gym. I later learned that Lee was well known by fellow fans as the most vociferous Vandy fan there was.

Vandy wasn’t playing well, and the refs weren’t helping. As halftime approached, the ball rolled directly to Lee. The referee asked for the ball. Lee shook his head no—twice. Then he spun the ball out on the court away from the ref, who promptly threw Lee out of the gym—to a chorus of boos. He somehow snuck back into the gym during halftime and joined fans on the other side. They gave him a standing ovation.

I was glad to see this part of Lee. He wasn’t perfect after all, although thinking of this incident still makes me laugh out loud.

Saying goodbye to Lee is difficult for me. He was my mentor and friend. It will be hard for others as well. He was a community leader, a caring employer, a loving family man, and someone who had an enormous impact on the legal profession through a wide variety of legal publications.

Scripture says that “a real friend sticks closer than a brother.” That was the Lee Smith I knew and will always remember.