Tim Cavanagh ’84 is a confident presence, charged is not too strong a word. When he walks in the room, he captures your eyes. It isn’t hard to imagine him easily and carefully holding the jury’s attention. The evidence indicates that he does that well. He says, “The one or two cases I’ve lost, I can see why we didn’t prevail.” He didn’t know the number of losses precisely, but if he had to count, it would take no more than “certainly one hand.”

That’s out of “20 to 30” trials” before a jury, but since most cases are settled before they go to trial, the Chicago lawyer, an all-star or “super lawyer” in the eyes of his peers, said his success rate crowds 100. He notes with a touch of modesty that also acknowledges his earned position of privilege: “I’m lucky enough to pick the cases I want to get involved in, and I don’t pick losers.”

A goodly portion of his picks are big winners. The jury’s award to the Velarde family when their Ford Explorer was hit by a train was $55.7 million. It held up under appeal. It’s Cavanagh’s largest, but it’s one of many multi-million dollar awards the co-founder of Cavanagh & Lloyd has either won at trial or by settlement. The newspaper headlines Cavanagh and company trumpet on their web site include: ”Lloyd & Cavanagh Obtains $20 Million Judgment,” and “$9.1
Million Train-Car Crash Settlement is a State
Record,” a record eclipsed later by the Velarde
verdict. Should it be called the Velarde verdict or the
one that totaled $55,715,406.65? Large award numbers captivate attention and obscure the
human complexity of all parties, as well as the relevant questions of justice. Cavanagh’s firm does
no advertising, but those numbers are a magnet for new clients, and it would be naïve to assume that he and his colleagues don’t revel in the way big dollars advance careers and fortunes.

In a fiercely partisan society, those numbers also inflame. An earlier article extolling a JCU alumnus
who enjoys success in this territory brought letters excoriating the lawyer and the magazine. The debate seems endless, but there appear to be cogent voices who argue that, as regards the medical malpractice part of the situation at least, large jury awards are not the simple cause of skyrocketing malpractice insurance.

His partner generally handles medical malpractice. Cavanagh takes the lead on, for example, cases where human or system failure at a railroad crossing led to catastrophe and suffering; or where a police chase indirectly led to a young mother’s death.

Cavanagh sees himself as a victims’ defender, as a seeker of justice. “Anyone who wants to criticize the jury that awarded $55 million for the lives of these
brain damaged people (the Velardes), I would offer to bring them to their house and show them the lives of these people.



We have a jury trial system; it’s not perfect, but it’s better than anyone has come up with since…I don’t make up the facts. When a case goes to trial, my job is to persuade a jury that the facts are in our
favor and the law justifies an award for the plaintiff.”
It’s more than that though. He sees himself as a warrior defending individuals against large corporations, which, he argues, generate most law suits and habitually place a ridiculously low value on the life of a person: “I represent the little guy. For
whatever reasons, my make-up, my DNA, I’m like that. People are defenseless.”

After he got his JD from Chicago Kent, Cavanagh worked for the Illinois attorney general’s office.
A brief, unhappy stint serving  corporations
followed, and then he landed a prize personal injury mentoring situation as a young gun for Phil Corboy, a master. At going on 43, Cavanagh’s become
a young master. He says, “I am actually happiest when I’m at trial and working 20 hours a day. I do
come alive in a different way.” He takes “a small army” of experts and assistants with him when he does battle.

Stacey Cavanagh is a corporate litigator. They have a winter home in Arizona; there is a lot of golf, and the
embrace of a large, loving, family. Which includes Cavanagh’s uncle and Godfather, Tom Tully ’59, a successful Chicago lawyer, mentor and role model: “From him, I learned work ethic, work ethic, work ethic, and how to treat people. He’s been very good to me my whole life. He flew me out to John Carroll to look at the school; he took me to games.”

Cavanagh said he loves what he’s doing and that “while I’ve done well, there are a lot of hills still to climb.” On the evidence to date, those ascents will be
smooth and successful.

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