An interesting fact of life, reinforced by the Balani case, is that, occasionally, some apparently unrelated episodes may nevertheless be intertwined: the outcome of one may have a bearing on the other.
The first information was a reportage in an Israeli newspaper. In dispassionate language, it related how a truck, that had been loaded with logs in one of Solbon’s depots near Haifa, arrived shortly before the Shabbath at its destination in Tel Aviv. It should have been there some two hours earlier but heavy traffic resulted in a protracted delay.
Keen to call it a day, the ground crew started unloading without taking the ‘ordinary precautions’. Unfortunately, the logs had not been properly secured when loaded. As soon as the rope, holding them together, was loosened, they came crushing down. Most members of the ground crew managed to scramble to safety. Simha Balani, a man of some 52 years of age, was the only one to be caught in the avalanche. When his mates cleared the wreckage above him, he confirmed he was not in pain; but he was unable to rise or to move his legs. The emergency staff of a nearby hospital diagnosed a broken back and a severed spinal cord.
Six week after the accident, a paraplegic Simha Balani left the hospital in a wheelchair. His active work at the depôt – the pride and joy of his life – had come to a premature end. At this point, the reporter raised an obvious question. What sort of safety measure were used by Solbon – a corporation owned by Israel’s Labour party – in order to safeguard against such accidents?
My personal reaction was in accord. Still, my legal training – bolstered by four years in the Law Firm of Jacob Keren and Associates – added a rider. Had there been a lack of supervisory measures or had this been yet another breach of safeguards prescribed in Solbon’s detailed and safety orientated manual?
Solbon and their insurers, Rotem, were established clients of our firm. I knew they would not deny liability. In all probability, the matter would be handled discreetly between Rotem’s in-house counsel, Ruth Schwartz and Hannah Hod, and the lawyers appointed by Simha. All the same, I kept wondering whether the fault lay in the procedure prescribed by Solbon or in the employees’ carelessness. I could condone the latter but would take a serious view of the former. However, at this stage the matter was not my concern.
During the next days, my time was taken up with two major commercial transactions. Simha Balani’s case soon slipped my mind. Three weeks later, though, the case assumed a different dimension. As soon as I arrived in the office, Jacob Keren’s secretary asked me to report to him. Handing me a freshly opened file, he asked in his direct manner: “Have you heard about this accident?”
“I read something in the papers,” I told him when I realised that it was Simha Balani’s claim. “Whom do we represent, Mr. Keren?”
“Rotem. They are prepared to settle; and Solbon is keen. But what do you think of the amount demanded?”
“Can I have a look at the file?”
“See me after lunch then!”
The documents threw new light on the matter. Simha Balani had been offered an indexed pension equal to 85per cent of his last salary plus a posting as a cashier till his retirement at the ripe age of 65. His lawyers, though, insisted on payment of a lump sum covering his loss of earnings plus damages for loss of enjoyment of life. The former count was calculated conservatively. The latter made me gasp. It exceeded the highest amount ever awarded for such loss by a court in Tel Aviv.
All attempts to negotiate had been politely but unequivocally rejected. Simha’s lawyer, my close friend, Boaz Tamir, stood his ground despite Rotem’s attempts to settle. I was aware that Boaz was an able tactician and a realistic lawyer. Although in our present roles as employees we regularly found ourselves on opposing sides of a case, we were discreetly making plans to establish our own legal firm. Boaz was to be the managing partner. Knowing Boaz’s calibre, I took his demands – ‘prayers’ – seriously as I studied the Balani file. There could, of course, be no doubt about Simha’s loss and sufferings. An industrial accident had turned a healthy even if aging man into a wreck. He would never walk again and other comforts, too, were lost to him. Still, a browse through the file revealed two weaknesses. One was that on numerous occasions Simha had refused to give up his out-of-doors job and accept an equally well-paid office post. The other was more complex. When the logs started to roll down, Simha had been out of range. He had stepped forward to drag a fellow worker to safety. Why should an old hand like him risk life and limb to warn off a younger and fitter man? Simha was not the foreman and had not been put in charge!
Jacob Keren listened keenly to my analysis. It was clear that, in most regards, I affirmed the points he had spotted on his own. As I closed the file, he fell into a reverie. When, at long last, he broke the silence, he came straight to the point.
“What do you recommend?”
“We can’t deny liability. To do so would be counter productive and, in any event, Rotem and Solbon would get a rotten Press. The best course is to admit liability and persuade Simha to accept the indexed pension plus the posting. In the long run, these are better then a lump sum. If he refuses, we’d have to contest the amount. And we might have to plead contributory negligence: we would have no choice.”
“On what ground would you base a count of ‘contributory negligence’?”
“Why on earth did he rush in? And, Mr. Keren: didn’t he assume an extra risk by holding on to a young man’s job at the ripe age of 52?” “I get the thrust! So, how about handling the case for us, young Eli!”
“On my own?”
“High time. And it’s a ‘win-win’ situation. We are prepared to pay Simha what is due to him; but not more than that. Or do you want Ravid or Kadmon to lead you?” Experience had taught me that these two took the laurels but refused to share the work: “How about Rachel Zeitlin?” I wanted to know.
“Is it her sort of case?” asked Keren severely. He was, of course, right. Rachel Zeitlin was a brilliant courtroom advocate: dogged, quick on the uptake, focused and sensitive to atmosphere. She knew when to drop a weak point and when to come up with her punch line. True, her ability to analyse complex legal points left much to be desired. Here, however, I excelled. Between the two of us we had won a string of difficult cases and, in the process, acquired the reputation of a formidable team. The instant case, though, required low key handling. A searching cross-examination and belligerent tactics were out of place.
“She might not pull her punches,” I conceded.
“And we don’t want to rub Simha’s nose in it. An honourable defeat is what we want!” After a brief reflection, he summed up. “Tell you what: you take charge of the file. But why don’t you discuss it with her? The two of you work well together.”