Paul Butler was my first legal mentor and one of those rare lawyers who didn’t just teach you how to practice law. He showed you how to think. As I indicated in Butler Pappas–A Familiar Foe, I am certain that I would not be writing this blog had it not been for Paul:

Attorneys have a peculiar way of coming and going at law firms. Few of us, especially litigators, ever stay in one place during our entire legal career.

Paul Butler came to Tampa via Atlanta. His mentor was Clayton Farnham. Paul is an ordained Methodist minister. Like Clayton Farnham, Paul is a consummate gentleman, driven, and very bright. Like many Methodist ministers, he can touch one’s soul with eloquent rhetoric. I was at a trial he won where the jury was crying with Paul during his closing argument.

I was very fortunate to have Paul Butler as a mentor early in my career. Indeed, I may have been blessed. Without Paul teaching me this line of legal work, I would never have become an attorney for policyholders. It is interesting how one thing leads to another in life’s journey.

Paul never accepted the surface explanation. Whether in a case, his own medical diagnosis, or life’s harder moments, Paul dug in, studied, learned the science, the facts, and all the angles others might overlook. When he walked into a room, he was ready to ask the one question that mattered.

I recently wrote to him after reading one of his medical updates. I told him he was still the same lawyer who had trained me. Still identifying the crucial issue. Still doing the work. Still influencing outcomes based on truth rather than fear.

Paul’s response was classic. He was gracious, a little understated, and grounded our shared experience. He mentioned two memories that stuck with him. One was when I told him I was leaving to start my own firm. The other was a moment after a courtroom proceeding in Jasper, Florida. We won the case in a hard fought trial. We packed up quietly, got into the car, and drove away with restraint. Then, and only then, he let the emotion of the moment erupt. He even recalled having to hand me the wheel when fatigue caught up with him on our trip back to Tampa.

That was Paul, too. He understood timing. Discipline first and emotional reaction second.

For those who know his career, Paul Butler was a highly respected trial lawyer and leader in the insurance defense bar. He helped shape organizations, mentored countless attorneys, and earned recognition among the best in our field of law. But titles and accolades don’t fully capture his influence.

His real legacy is found in the lawyers he trained and the way they approach problems today. Paul taught by example. He didn’t just tell you to prepare. He showed you what preparation looked like. He didn’t just talk about professionalism. He lived it, even in moments when others might not. He didn’t avoid hard truths. He walked straight into them, studied them, and made decisions grounded in reality.

Paul’s mindset carries over into life for many of us lucky enough to have been under his guidance. That mindset extends far beyond the courtroom or work in a law firm.

Even in his final chapter, he was still teaching. Still showing how to face difficult medical circumstances with clear eyes and steady resolve. That’s the mark of someone who truly made a difference. I am even more grateful that, all these years later, I was still learning from him up to his last moments with us.

Not long ago, he sent an email to me and a number of others about his devotional reading from Mark 5. It is the chapter where Jairus is told his daughter has died, and Jesus responds with words that cut straight through fear and finality: “Don’t be afraid. Just believe.”

That was Paul.

Thought For The Day

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” 
— Nelson Mandela