LEAD STORY
S.O.B.,Esq.

Last month at the University of Oregon in Eugene, 90 law students blew off a perfectly good weekend to attend a two-day seminar called "Beyond the casebook: Problem-solving skills and appropriate dispute resolution." In Portland, law professors at Lewis & Clark hammer on themes of mediation and civility. All over the country, in fact, lawyers are learning how to drop their weapons and get along.

And then there's Allan Knappenberger, Esq.

"He is a career asshole," says Anne Marie Mellman, a lawyer now retired. "He gives lawyers a bad name."



BY NICK BUDNICK
nbudnick@wweek.com

Photos: Martin Thiele & Basil Childers

 

"For years, and I mean literally for years, Allan Knappenberger's name has been used as an example of how not to practice law."
--Beth Mason

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1997, the State Bar of Oregon, with 11,100 active members, budgeted $1.12 million for lawyer discipline. Washington, by comparison, had 17,582 lawyers and budgeted $2.13 million

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lawyers pay dues to support the state bar. Oregon's bar spends 33 percent of dues on 14 paid enforcement staff. Washington, in contrast, spends 53 percent of dues to hire 29 paid staff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oregon is the only state in which the public can view the written bar complaints on file at the Oregon State Bar's offices in Lake Oswego, a short drive from I-5.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bar gave Knappenberger his first letter of admonition in 1990, when he admitted to having sex with a client twice while representing her in her divorce, a violation of bar ethics rules.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1995 Knappenberger got his second letter of admonition, for making contact with an opposing party without the party's lawyer present, while representing James R. French, a Vancouver bailbondsman, in a custody dispute.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knappenberger's third letter of admonition was for "habitual" violation of discovery rules, in the Marion County case in which Paul Saucy referred to him as the "king" of "discovery abuse" in Multnomah County.

 

 

 

 

 

In 1999 there were 20,946 marriages in Oregon and 11,618 divorces, according to preliminary stats from the state Health Division.

 

 
Help Yourself? In a complex justice system, legal consumers have to pick the right lawyer and protect themselves if they don't. Here are 10 tips to help out.

Leader of the Pack When it comes to ethics complaints to the state bar, Allan Knappenberger blows away the competition.

"He's a menace, and I'm ashamed he's in my profession," says Richard Weill, a Troutdale lawyer who recently filed a complaint against Knappenberger. "He's just an S.O.B."

Knappenberger himself won't talk. Asked for an interview, he said, "Between you and me, I'm not one of those folks that relishes publicity. As a matter of fact I'm not that type of person at all."

Many people consider the prominent divorce lawyer a pain in the ass--and some of his clients no doubt prefer it that way. Having the instincts of a junkyard dog appears to have helped his practice, not hurt it.

"I think divorce law is the closest thing we have to the medieval joust," says Steve Cyr, who shared an office with Knappenberger in the '80s. Ex-spouses, Cyr explains, "get to have a champion and say, 'Go tear the other person's face off.'"

A solo practitioner since 1977, Knappenberger has thrived without the advantages that many other lawyers have enjoyed. He does not have the benefit of advice from senior colleagues at a large law firm; nor did the Notre Dame grad go to a local law school and thereby get referrals from ex-classmates. He's succeeded with brains, hard work--he routinely works 15-hour days--and, above all, a craving for combat.

"He fights very hard for his clients," says Terry Hall, a divorce lawyer in Hillsboro. "He does a great job for them, in my opinion."

Though he commands $150 to $175 an hour, about half the hourly fee of the city's top lawyers, Knappenberger still has represented some high-profile clients, including the former Diane Thomason in her split with car king Scott. Along the way, Knappenberger has acquired the trappings of success. He drives a forest-green Lexus. His wife, Kerry, drives a white Mercedes. They live in a $1.6 million estate splayed across four hilltop acres outside Tualatin, complete with horse stables and a vineyard.

Though he has become rich, Knappenberger also has had more than his share of problems. Last week, when an ex-client filed a complaint with the disciplinary unit of the Oregon State Bar, claiming overbilling and legal negligence, it was complaint number 75 in his file.

Domestic-relations lawyers tend to generate a lot of complaints; they represent emotionally overwrought clients who are prone to look for someone to blame when things go sour. But even compared with other divorce lawyers, the 75 complaints generated by Knappenberger in his 27 years of practice are extraordinary. It works out to about one every four months, more than three times the frequency of his nearest colleague (see chart).

Most of Knappenberger's complaints come from his ex-clients. But opposing clients, other lawyers, court reporters, investigators and consultants have also said they've been wronged. The bar's disciplinary lawyers dismissed the vast majority of the complaints for having insufficient evidence, being unpersuasive, or describing actions that did not violate the profession's ethics rules. Three resulted in letters of admonition, a mild form of reprimand, and six complaints are pending.

Many of the complaints sound like that of Lori Shaw, who says that in 1997 Knappenberger estimated that her divorce would cost her $3,000 to $5,000. But the bills hit $12,039 before the case even went to trial, a sum almost twice what Knappenberger's opponent charged Shaw's ex, leaving Shaw with the distinct feeling that she had been fleeced. "I realize now that the longer he was able to drag out the matter, the more financially beneficial it was to him," Shaw wrote in a January letter to the bar complaining about Knappenberger.

Many Knappenberger complaints have as much to do with manners as with money.

In January, for example, Portlander William Kennedy wrote to the bar about the lawyer, who represented the ex-husband of Kennedy's girlfriend. When Kennedy barred the ex from his property because of alleged threatening statements, Knappenberger responded, he says, by "leaving phone messages calling me a wimp."

That same month, Knappenberger ex-client Shaw wrote that it's "poor taste for an attorney to make an appointment with a client by stating 'I want to see your great-looking toosh in my office Saturday at 3:30 pm.'"

Last December, David Canaga, whose daughter's ex-husband hired Knappenberger, complained to the bar that in a phone call, the lawyer called him an "asshole" and said he had "raised trash."

Whereas such behavior may be unprofessional, it violates no ethics rules, and one can't be disbarred from practicing law for having an obnoxious personality, says Jeff Sapiro, chief disciplinary counsel for the Oregon State Bar.

Some colleagues say that Knappenberger is simply a zealous advocate for his clients. "To say his style is straightforward is like saying Hitler is pushy," says Hall. "I don't find that offensive.... But I'll tell you, I think he offends the younger, P.C. members of the bar and bench."

Complaints that Knappenberger can be nasty and mean, however, explain only part of the reaction to him--especially in the legal community.

Some lawyers complain that Knappenberger's m.o. is to bury his opponents with unnecessary paper, clogging up the court. This jacks up his own bills as well as the other side's, since each piece of paper sent has to be read and analyzed by the other side. Nor is mediation a likely outcome.

"Allan's reputation in the legal community is that he leads people into litigation [in cases] that never should have gone to litigation," says lawyer Marie Tilden,whose husband hired Knappenberger for what has turned into an extremely messy divorce. "I consider him extremely unprofessional and not particularly ethical."

"When you have a case with Mr. Knappenberger, you figure you better get ready for trial," says lawyer Greg Soriano. "When he's on the other side, it gets expensive and difficult."

One example surfaced earlier this month, at the juvenile justice building in Northeast Portland. On March 8, lawyer Kathleen Kelly Moore asked Judge Michael Loy to make Knappenberger and his client, Don Wolfe, pay for what she said were unnecessary legal costs.

To hear Moore speak, Knappenberger could be superhuman. She said he single-handedly submerged her in "daily inundations" of legal memos, motions and frivolous demands, forcing her to hire another lawyer just to read them all. She would have brought the exhibits with her, she told the judge, but "physically I was unable to carry them." To illustrate, she pointed to two large tote bags sitting on the floor next to her, full of Knappenpaper.

As she spoke, Knappenberger fidgeted and scribbled furiously in a yellow legal pad. His mouth was twisted into an expression of deep concentration. Combed into a rigid side part, his hair was wavy and black, but graying. The 53-year-old lawyer wore thick glasses and sported a light-blue oxford under a gray suit, an early '90s power tie with blue and red diagonal stripes.

When Moore finished, Knappenberger rose to strike back, a slight paunch extending from his otherwise lanky 6-foot frame. If Moore had to get the help of another lawyer, he proclaimed, it was her own fault: "Mrs. Moore has a practice of not operating five days a week--and I think we all know that," he said with a hint of derision. "She operates three days a week at best."

Judge Loy sat unhappily through an hour of this crossfire before postponing the hearing. Clearly, he would rather it just go away.

"I believe that this was the longest custody trial that I have presided over," he told the combatants. "And I believe that this is going to be the longest hearing over attorneys' fees that I will have presided over."

In a disapproving tone he noted the ex-couple's combined legal fees of $161,539, and said, "Quite frankly, I think that speaks for itself."

Afterward, Knappenberger's opponent interpreted Loy's words for me. "You're writing about Allan Knappenberger?" Moore fumes. "You heard the judge: the 'longest trial,' outrageous attorneys fees; all to be spent on a simple case."

To fund his losing custody battle, Knappenberger's client, Wolfe, had to borrow $70,000 from his parents, money that could have funded four years of college tuition for his child. Asked to explain the expenditure, Wolfe said, "The thought that kept me going throughout was 'I don't want to have my son ask many years down the road why I didn't try," he said. "I had to try. Now at least I can say 'I didn't give up. I didn't win, but I did my best.'"

Tigard lawyer Keith Walker says the rap on Knappenberger is well-known: "He doesn't agree on anything--it's fight every detail. So the attorney fees for your client go up astronomically. There's a definite feeling that he's trying to beat down the other client until they don't fight any more and just give up."

Several lawyers told WW that upon learning he is the opposing lawyer, they tell their clients to expect a much higher bill. In some cases, the Knappenberger surcharge can hit $10,000-$15,000. "I usually say 50 percent more," says Portland divorce lawyer Beth Mason. "I don't even try to put a dollar figure on it."

Knappenberger is particularly well known for the pretrial phase where lawyers get to file demands intended to "discover" facts, information or testimony held by the other side. It's like in poker when each side shows their cards, only in the game of civil litigation it happens before the trial. Discovery, as it's called, can also be used as an economic and psychological weapon.

In 1994, Knappenberger was sanctioned in a Marion County divorce case after firing off a steady barrage of 18 different discovery "requests" to Paul Saucy, the opposing lawyer, and his client. He fired each one across the fax and then mailed the letter version. Three days before trial, Knappenberger also sent a subpoena to Saucy's client's mother, who lived in a nursing home, demanding she testify.

Saucy complained to Judge Paul Lipscomb that many of the requests had unnecessarily tight deadlines, were for information Knappenberger already had, could have easily been combined into one request, and seemed to be sent at the last minute for no good reason. So frustrated was Saucy that he called the telephone company to put a block on his fax line, to filter out Knappenberger's faxes. Knappenberger merely fired off the next one from another fax outside his office--with a cover letter that said, "GOTCHA."

Saucy, a former president of the bar's family-law section, complained to Lipscomb that in Multnomah County, Knappenberger is considered the "king" of "discovery abuse."

Lipscomb seemed to agree, as he slapped Knappenberger with a $1,500 sanction, saying, "He has utilized discovery tactics which, in this judge's opinion, are intended solely to delay, harass, or drain the financial resources of the opposing party."

Though Knappenberger declined WW's interview requests, his ethics attorneys, Peter Jarvis and Timothy Daly Smith, agreed to respond to the above criticisms on his behalf:

"Lawyers can disagree about the general effectiveness of one particular style over another. It also is obvious that litigation, especially litigation regarding domestic relations, can be both costly and contentious. Mr. Knappenberger is a conscientious lawyer who represents his clients appropriately, whether by way of litigation, mediation or private negotiations."

Knappenberger has other defenders.

"I think that he's one of the hardest-working lawyers I've ever seen. Allan's smart," says Jody Stahancyk, who dismisses the criticisms as sour grapes. "The domestic relations bar--in some ways, they act like little old ladies, and they get really critical of each other. Allan probably isn't part of the mold, but that doesn't mean there isn't a place for him.... For some people, he's sort of the lawyer you love to hate."

Judge Kristena LaMar, whose job for Multnomah County Circuit Court is exclusively to hold arbitrations and settlement conferences, says Knappenberger is one of "five or six" local lawyers whom she bars from her courtroom.

"I just felt that his attitude in the courtroom is not helpful to mediation, and they don't pay me enough for that aggravation."

Lamar said she's concerned about the clients who hire attorneys who thrive on conflict, because "their clients end up spending a lot more money." Ignorant of the legal system, those clients often don't realize there are other, cheaper ways of doing things--like mediation--that can be just as successful, she says. "Essentially that money comes out of the family till, and the kids are going to be impacted by how much money the family has to spend on necessities. They don't necessarily get better results when they go to trial."

Whereas Lamar laments the monetary costs to families of such a style, what concerns divorce lawyer Beth Mason is the emotional costs to kids caught in the middle.

"I think he inflames a case that he's on [and] makes it more confrontational," says Mason, who says she is normally loath to criticize other lawyers. "I don't think he says 'no' to his clients....Some clients will try to run amok. If the lawyer runs with them, rather than reining them in, then I think they can do long-term damage to a family."

The Oregon State Bar is known for having some of the best consumer-protection programs in the country.

Unlike any other state, every lawyer is required to have malpractice insurance. Also unlike any other state, the public can view all complaints made against a lawyer.

But for Bruce Melkonian, a lawyer and a former Knappenberger client, perusing the complaints made against Knappenberger shows the limits of the bar's enforcement efforts. Almost half the complaints against the divorce lawyer allege some sort of excessive billing, including allegations that he "padded" bills or "churned" the file, i.e. generating more paperwork than necessary to increase bills. In each case Knappenberger denied wrongdoing, and the bar dismissed the complaint after examining it.

Among the complaints dismissed were cases in which costs appear to have gotten out of control--such as Melkonian's. In 1998 Melkonian complained to the bar that he hired Knappenberger to go after a claim of less than $1,000. Before they made it to court, Melkonian got his first bill--for $1,100.

Similarly, in 1994 Nancy Jette complained that she hired Knappenberger to go after $1,650 in child support that she said was owed her son. She said she was quoted a $750 cost for what would be a simple contempt-of-court case, but it wound up costing her $3,800, more than twice what was at stake.

The problem in overbilling cases is that the bar must be able to prove that fees were "clearly excessive," and this requires a high standard of evidence. And it's not like Knappenberger doesn't work hard--it's just that his highly contentious style seems to lead to a much higher tab.

To deal with such situations, the bar suggests fee arbitration--but that requires both sides to participate, and Knappenberger has often refused.

Ten other states make fee arbitration mandatory, as the American Bar Association recommends, but Kateri Walsh, bar spokeswoman, says Oregon statutes do not allow the bar to follow suit.

In any case, the national movement toward handling divorce cases economically may now be taken more seriously in Oregon. It seems the bar is finally drawing a line between zealous advocacy and needlessly contentious lawyering. Last month a panel of the state bar recommended the disbarment of another Portland divorce lawyer, Margaretta Eakin. Among other things, Eakin, who billed her time at $160 an hour, charged a client $65,500 for a "garden-variety" custody case that would normally cost between $4,500 and $15,000.

The panel said Eakin was "consistently responsible for fanning the flames of dispute...leading the client into excessively expensive litigation without offering the client reasonable alternatives."

If the bar ever does go after Knappenberger, it's likely that some of his colleagues will shed no tears.

"For years, and I mean literally for years, Allan Knappenberger's name has been used as an example of how not to practice law," says Mason. "But that doesn't seem to stop him from practicing law that way."

 


LEADER OF THE PACK

When it comes to ethics complaints to the state bar, Allan Knappenberger blows away the competition. Here's how he stacks up against other veteran divorce lawyers who began practicing in the '60s and '70s


GARY ZIMMER '75
(2 complaints) .08 per year

BILL HOWE '75
(4 complaints) .16 per year

PAUL DEBAST '72
(5 complaints) .18 per year

ALBERT MENASHE '77
(6 complaints) .26 per year

.GREGORY SORIANO '73
(12 complaints) .45 per year

RON GEVURTZ '60
(19 complaints) .48 per year

CATHERINE CARROLL '77
(13 complaints) .57 per year

JODY STAHANCYK '73
(19 complaints) .72 per year

TERRANCE HALL '73
(23 complaints) .87 per year

KURT CARSTENS '72
(25 complaints) .91 per year

ALLAN KNAPPENBERGER '73
(74 complaints) 2.79 per year


HELP YOURSELF

In a complex justice system, legal consumers have to pick the right lawyer and protect themselves if they don't. Here are 10 tips to help out.

1. Ask around. Call friends and associates for referrals to lawyers in the same type of practice.

2. Once you've got some names, do some preliminary research. At the library, the Martindale-Hubbell Law Directory lists lawyers by state and city and includes facts about the lawyers' education and professional standing.

3. Call some former clients. You can figure out who a lawyer's former clients are by using the OJIN database at Multnomah County Courthouse. Call a few and ask them what they think--but bear in mind that when clients lose, they often blame their lawyer for no good reason.

4. The Oregon State Bar, at 620-0222, can give you a brief overview of your lawyer's discipline record, if any, over the phone. Remember, though, that complaints may often be misguided or frivolous. You should view the complaints in person to judge for yourself. To see what lawsuits have been filed against a lawyer, check OJIN.

5. Interview the lawyer--but not before asking if the first consultation is free. Ask about the lawyer's specialized experience, style, and how you will be kept apprised of his or her progress. Ask about billing procedures and ways the lawyer tries to keep costs down. Look for someone who seems honest, organized and professional.

7. Once you settle on a lawyer, get a written fee agreement, and take it home and read it before you sign it. It should establish the work to be provided, how often you are billed, differing fee rates for paralegals, investigators, etc., and whether you are entitled to an accounting.

8. Keep a calendar or log of all contacts with your lawyer, including phone calls. Ask for accounting records of your expenditures. Get dated and signed receipts for all money you spend, just in case.

9. When a problem arises, bring it up early, keep notes, and document your discussion. Get a second opinion from another lawyer. Ask if your lawyer will enter into fee arbitration. If need be, file a complaint with the Oregon State Bar.

10. If you think your lawyer screwed up your case, the state bar has a list of malpractice lawyers who will consult with you for an initial fee of no more than $35.

 

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Willamette Week | originally published March 22, 2000

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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