Dean Ralph Brett
Oregon, Washington
I grew up on Badger Mountain, in Eastern Washington, on a dry land dirt farm in an area the locals refer to as “Poverty Point.” No TV. No electricity. No inside plumbing. But we did have books — lots of books. I talked before I could walk, and carried a book everywhere, so my dad used to pat me on the head and say “This one’s going to be a lawyer.” He knew what kind of a lawyer I would be: a lawyer for real people, not a lawyer for big corporations — a lawyer for the little guy with a big case.
