Tod Aronovitz: President of the Florida Bar; "raised in a home where the law was revered".

• Author: Pudlow, Jan
• Position: Cover Story

A black robe hangs by the door of Tod Aronovitz's corner office with a sweeping view of downtown Miami and Biscayne Bay.

Belonging to his late father, Sidney Aronovitz, it's one of many mementos of the federal judge who first taught his son to love the law as a noble profession.

On his office wall, among framed newspaper stories of big trial victories, a bumper sticker recalls his dad's successful campaign for a seat on the Miami City Commission from 1962. On his office credenza sits an antique G.E. radio. The one his father used back in the '30s in Key West to listen to Boston Red Sox games.

Front and center on his desk is his father's leather blotter and day calendar, permanently paused on that momentous day in 1974 when Tod learned he'd passed the bar exam.

And in the conference room rests the American flag that flew over the U.S. Capitol after his dad died in 1997, folded into a triangle, preserved behind glass.

"He was my hero. And I don't have many heroes in my life," says 52-year-old Aronovitz. "He was someone whom everyone respected. He was a great combination: He was a legal scholar; he loved being a judge; and he was a very fair-minded person. And whoever came into his courtroom--if you were an assistant U.S. attorney, a public defender, a private civil attorney, a litigant, or a juror--you knew you were in a dignified setting, and you knew you were going to get a fair shake."

Learning by example, Tod watched his father in action, first serving at his father's law firm as a clerk while a student at the University of Miami School of Law, then working as a lawyer for two years until President Gerald Ford appointed his father to the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Florida in 1976 and Tod struck out on his own.

"He instilled in me that there is only one way to do something, and that is the right way. There ain't no second place. You do things the right way, with diligence and definitely with honesty. My father taught me that it doesn't matter how much money you have in the bank. The only thing that counts in this world is your good name."

As the 54th president of The Florida Bar, Aronovitz's mission is to protect the good names of 70,000 lawyers, members of a profession he truly loves.

His main goal is to enhance the image of lawyers through an ambitious public awareness program called "Dignity in Law."

"The time has come for our profession to draw a line in the sand and to tell everyone that we are proud of our profession and that lawyers and judges do great work every single day, for their clients, in the courtroom, and in our communities," Aronovitz says, passion filling his voice.

Moments later, down below on Flagler Street, a cab driver asks what brings a visitor to Miami. Upon hearing it was to interview the new president of the Bar, the leader of all of Florida's lawyers, he starts the meter and harrumphs: "Lawyers! They're all a bunch of crooks."

Aronovitz winces at the digs. He has heard all the lawyer jokes, and he is not amused.

The most common criticism of lawyers, he says, is their "focus on financial issues. That lawyers charge too much and are only interested in personal financial gain."

He is reminded of one of the "20 Lawyer Rules to Live By," written by a great Miami trial lawyer, Richard Masington, he once saw posted on a judge's bulletin board and he took to heart: "Remember that you are first a professional and then a businessperson. If you seek riches, become a businessperson (and hire a lawyer)."

"The change in law that is very frustrating is the greater emphasis on law as a business and not as a profession," Aronovitz says.

Aronovitz learned by observing great lawyers. From his high school job as a delivery boy walking the streets of downtown for Miami Title and Abstract Co., he got a chance to see inside Miami's big law firms, to witness the bustle of law in action at the Dade County Courthouse, and to listen at lunch as his dad and his colleagues spoke an intriguing foreign language filled with Latin phrases like lis pen-dens and forum non conveniens.

"Because of my father and his friends, I saw some of the really great lawyers," Aronovitz says. "I had little exposure to unscrupulous, overzealous lawyers that now, as a veteran trial lawyer, I have seen."

It's Aronovitz's embodiment of professionalism that strikes Senior U.S. District Judge William Hoeveler.

"He and I tried a case on opposite sides when he was quite young. I thought much of him at the time. I don't remember who won, but I remember Tod," Judge Hoeveler says.

"He's a thoroughly honest, fine trial lawyer, and I think he'll be one of the best Bar presidents. Not only will he bring that honesty to the office, but he's very interested in the law and very interested in professionalism. I think he'll emphasize professionalism in his term, and that's the one thing that is extremely important these days."

David Linksy, in the printing and promotional products business in Tampa, has known Aronovitz since they were Tau Epsilon Phi fraternity brothers in college. He dubbed Aronovitz "The Organizer" after the time they turned their frat house into a tropical scene for a "shipwreck party." Aronovitz was the one giving orders while the other guys sweated and grunted slashing machetes through clumps of bamboo they found along Georgia back roads.

"I know a lot of lawyers, and I would say a significant number of lawyers don't love what they do, but they love the money they make. Tod loves the law and was brought up in a home where the law was revered," Linsky says.

"This guy loves the law and wants to do what he can for the betterment of the law. It's like his skin. It's part of him."

Another of those 20 Rules Aronovitz follows is "Defend the honor of fellow lawyers."

It's not so much that fellow lawyers need an ego boost. Aronovitz believes the very foundation of our democracy is at stake: When society treats lawyers as laughable caricatures, it makes it easier to attack judges and erode the independence of the judiciary.

"The stronger our courts are, the better society functions. When there are unbridled attacks on the courts, caused by an erosion in our profession or the image people have of our profession, then it's up to the Bar leaders to take on the cause to shore up the underpinnings that support our whole judicial system," Aronovitz says.

And Florida Supreme Court Justice Major Harding is one who appreciates what Aronovitz is trying to accomplish: "He has a passion for excellence in the profession, and that passion has displayed itself in many innovative and exciting ideas for the improvement not only of the image of the profession, but for the profession itself."

With the same intense focus he uses to prepare for a big trial, Aronovitz is confident he will be able to sway everyone from cabbies to Florida Cabinet members to see the honorable, noble, dignified, principled side of lawyers--to hear his message of the greatness of the legal profession.

"I live my life by taking the positive approach. I see The Florida Bar as the plaintiff in this case. We have a jury of public perception out there that we have to convince," Aronovitz says. "And it's my firm belief that The Florida Bar is going to win this case."

Aronovitz is accustomed to winning--from the mayor of Teenage Village at Camp Blue Star in Hendersonville, N.C., to senior class president at Ransom School in Coconut Grove, to fraternity president in law school, to a member of the Bar's Board of Governors.

Describing himself as very competitive, he even turned supper into a gastronomical contest with his three sons, Abel, Michael, and Cary.

They created the single-winner event called "Tacomania," where the Aronovitz clan gathered at the Taco Bell on Dixie Highway to see who could eat the most tacos in one sitting...