Randy was a character—a lawyer, but the kind of lawyer who helped people and never seemed to get any richer from doing it. He was broad-shouldered and quirky; a man with simple tastes, who always wore a blue denim jacket and a floppy-brimmed hat to keep off the Portland drizzle, and walked with a slight lean to the left. I met him a few months before my divorce, and he looked over my papers for free because I was just north of broke at the time and he wasn’t about to let anyone take advantage of me.

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