The time was 1986. I was 27 years old, the Dade County Courthouse was 60 years old, and I was litigating to trial one of my first “big” cases in the chambers of Judge Murray Goldman.
I appreciated the grandeur and sanctity of the historic courthouse. I remember walking up the north steps of the courthouse and entering the lobby through the revolving door, dressed as the associate lawyer in my Polo red-and-blue-striped tie, my wingtip Cole-Haan shoes and carrying my new (not-a-scratch-on-it) leather Mark Cross briefcase.
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