“It’s a business where there’s a
propensity for people to not tell
the truth, and you have to get
to the truth. To do this type of
litigation correctly, you have to be
willing to get down in the dirt.”
—PATRICK DOWD
because we’ve had [this client] for almost
40 years.’” The situation was this, Dowd
says: The church had allowed a group
to use its gym and a father in the stands
provoked his son into attacking another
player. That player got a verdict against the
son and father, but Dowd won a directed
verdict for the Archdiocese. “I remember it
like it was yesterday,” he says.
Since then, Dowd has gained
prominence defending against
catastrophic loss, especially in the area of
transportation. He was named in 2009 to
the American College of Transportation
Attorneys, an elite group for which he
serves as treasurer.
“His father was a great lawyer and a
good guy,” says Joe Power, a plaintiff’s
lawyer who is a partner at Power Rogers &
Smith. “The apple did not fall far from the
tree. Patrick and I have settled some cases.
He is a straight shooter, fair but not overly
generous. He will try a case if he has to, but
is smart enough with his offer that he often
is able to avoid his client having to engage
in that risk-tasking.”
But Dowd loves being in the thick of
a trial. He has tried roughly 75 cases,
of which he estimates that he has won
80 percent, earning a reputation as a
formidable presence in the courtroom.
“Patrick is well-prepared,
straightforward and a good storyteller,”
says Mark McNabola, a partner at
McNabola Law Group who has gone up
against Dowd. “He builds credibility over
the course of producing his evidence, just
as he says he will at the onset. Like all
cases, you need to have the facts on your
side, and he deals with particularly difficult
defendants—in that most of the population
doesn’t have a warm spot for, say, truck
drivers who are involved in a catastrophic
accident. He’s usually starting behind the
eight ball and has to overcome that.”
Not surprisingly, Dowd’s courtroom style
was influenced greatly by his father and
other local trial lawyers of that generation.
He rattles off the names of these old-time
attorneys—C. Barry Montgomery, Tom
Tobin, Philip Corboy, Bob Cooney, Neil
Quinn, Bill Johnson—like they’re Frank
Sinatra or Dean Martin. Then he smiles
wistfully as he remembers watching them
perform on their courtroom stages.
