Meet Justinian

When Fighting for Justice Becomes Personal

My path to becoming an asbestos attorney wasn't planned—it was written by tragedy, loss, and the gradual revelation of a truth that would reshape everything I thought I knew about my family's history.

I started my career in technology, working for companies like Microsoft and UBS Swiss Bank, even contracting at the Department of Energy's nuclear testing facility in Nevada. Like so many others, the dotcom crash of the early 2000s upended my life completely. I lost my job, then my car, then my home. Facing the need to reinvent myself, I decided to pursue law with the straightforward goal of becoming a personal injury attorney handling car accident cases.

But life had other plans.

The Case That Changed Everything

The first law firm that hired me fresh out of law school assigned me to an asbestos case—a family seeking justice for their father, a pipefitter who had died from mesothelioma after decades of exposure at a petrochemical plant outside Houston. As I dug into the evidence, researching the products that had killed this man, a chilling realization began to take shape.

The same asbestos-containing materials that had claimed my client's life had been stealing members of my own family for decades. I just hadn't known it yet.

Roy, The Grandfather Who Made Me Into a "Car Guy"

Some of my most treasured memories are weekend afternoons spent in the garage with my grandfather Roy, a WWII veteran and gifted mechanic who could fix anything with his hands. Even after a stroke affected his speech, he patiently taught me how to do a proper brake job on my old Chevrolet Suburban, guiding my hands with the quiet expertise of someone who had spent a lifetime working with tools.

What I didn't understand then was that Roy had been unknowingly exposed to asbestos for decades—through the brake pads and clutches he handled daily, and during his Army service aboard ships lined with asbestos insulation. When I was 19, he was suddenly hospitalized with severe pain and diagnosed with cancer. Three days later, he was gone—before I could even make it home to say goodbye.

At the time, we had no idea asbestos was to blame. Today, I know exactly which companies put those deadly fibers on the ships where he served and in the auto parts he worked with every day. Every time I settle a case involving those same products, I think of Roy and wish we could have fought for him the way I now fight for my clients.

Terry, The Grandmother Who Brightened Every Christmas

Roy's wife Terry—my grandmother—faced a double exposure that was tragically common for women of her generation. She worked in a Silicon Valley computer chip factory during the 1960s and 70s, operating ovens insulated with asbestos. But perhaps more dangerously, she lovingly washed Roy's work clothes each week, never knowing that the dust clinging to his coveralls contained deadly fibers that would settle into her lungs.

When Terry was diagnosed with lung cancer, everyone assumed her smoking habit was to blame. It wasn't until years later, as I learned more about asbestos exposure, that I understood how these fibers multiply cancer risk in smokers. That knowledge drives my work with clients who were also smokers—helping them understand that they still deserve justice for asbestos-related illnesses, regardless of their smoking history.

Jerry, The Father Who Taught Me About Integrity

My father Jerry worked in a titanium foundry during the 1950s, surrounded by asbestos-lined equipment that no one warned him about. I never knew the "blue collar" version of my father. By the time I was born he was a white-collar worker, so when his cancer diagnosis came none of us suspected asbestos was to blame.

The doctors gave my father 3 months to live, but he stayed with us for almost nine months. That was long enough for him to watch a video of me graduating law school, but he died a few weeks before I got the news that I had passed the bar exam.

Suzanne, The Mother Who Taught Me To Never Give Up

Growing up, I was always annoyed by the powdery residue that clung to the little blue throw rug in front of our bathroom sink. My mother Suzanne used baby powder daily as part of her routine, never knowing that some brands contained asbestos contamination that would give her ovarian cancer.

Unlike the others, my mother's story has a different ending—she survived her battle with cancer. When I help female clients who've faced similar struggles with talc-related cancers, I think of my mother and feel profound gratitude that her story had a better outcome.

My Own Battle with Cancer

My understanding of what my clients endure became even more personal when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Though my cancer was treatable, I experienced firsthand the crushing fatigue, emotional numbness, and sense of hopelessness that so often accompany a cancer diagnosis. Those dark days gave me a deeper level of empathy for what my clients and their families go through—the physical exhaustion, the emotional toll, the way cancer touches every aspect of life.

That experience made me a better advocate. When I sit across from clients who are struggling with their own diagnoses, I don't just understand their legal needs—I understand their fear, their anger, and their desperate need for someone to fight for their family. And when they have their bad days and their bad moods, I remember how cancer sometimes brought out the worst in me, too.

Why I'll Fight This Fight for the Rest of My Life

There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about the family I've lost to asbestos exposure. I miss them during holidays, I missed them while fighting my own cancer, and I see echoes of them in many of my clients' stories. But rather than simply grieving these losses, I've learned to let their memories motivate me.

This work isn't just my career. It's my calling. Because when I someday join my loved ones, I want them to be proud of the work I did to help families like ours.