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Attorney Gino Brogdon Jr, The Brogdon Firm, LLC, reflects on Senate Committee experience as the lone mediator & plaintiff’s attorney. (October 8, 2019, Atlanta, GA) – Complaints by defense lawyers and business groups about hefty verdicts and unfavorable rulings are common. Daily Report contributor, Greg Land, investigates how plaintiffs lawyers are keeping an eye on a legislative committee that could trigger another round of “tort reform” legislation. “Fueled by reports of megamillion-dollar verdicts, including from parts of the state that were considered relatively conservative and defense-friendly a few years ago, legislation was enacted to create the Study Committee on Reducing Georgia’s Cost of Doing Business. The committee is tasked with tackling legal obstacles that “threaten families, small and large businesses, economic development and all Georgia consumers,” and to “fully review and study the issue of Georgia’s legal climate and its impact on the cost of doing business and performing healthcare services in Georgia.” Daily Report, Greg Land, October 4, 2019 The 15 member committee is led by Senator John Wilkinson, and the backgrounds of the group include 5 other senators as well as defense counsels from major corporations in the state. Gino Brogdon Jr. is the only mediator and plaintiff’s attorney on the Senate committee. In the interview, Brogdon laughs and agrees that he is “sort of the odd man out,” but said he’s been pleased with how his perspective has been received. The article continues with Brogdon’s experience with the committee. Gino continues, “Everybody here, whether they’re from one group or another, is trying to reduce the costs of doing business in Georgia”. “Sometimes there are disagreements in the committee, but it’s very congenial and courteous, as opposed to argumentative.” “While my plaintiffs’ practice has helped me explain things from an injured citizen’s point of view, my practice as a mediator has allowed me to give productive commentary, and approach issues in a balanced way,” said Brogdon. For Brogdon, polarizing issues at the committee table is unproductive. Brogdon’s goal is to contribute to the conversation by highlighting the middle ground on issues such as the seat belt law or the statutory limitations for filing time-limited policy demands on an insurer. The article concluded with a final thought from Brogdon, “I can’t say there was anything I felt so strongly about I said, ‘No way, can’t happen.’ But there were a lot of times I thought some information was lacking. The idea is to get all these suggestions out there.” You can see the full daily report article here: https://www.law.com/dailyreportonline/2019/10/04/fretting-over-high-dollar-verdicts-senate-panel-ponders-legislative-fixes/?slreturn=20190909084446 The third meeting of the Senate Study Committee on the Cost of Doing Business in Georgia will take place on Monday, October 21st at 10:00am in Ashmore Hall, Room 119 at the Georgia Southern University, Armstrong Campus (11935 Abercorn St., Savannah, GA 31419). You may also livestream the meeting here: http://www.senate.ga.gov/spo/en-US/videobroadcasts.aspx For further information please contact:  Melissa R. Brogdon, Firm Administrator at melissa@brogdonfirm.com, 404-977-0385 About the Brogdon Firm, LLC: The Brogdon Firm, LLC specializes in results-driven legal solutions for victims of personal injury and professional negligence. Learn more about our practice areas here.

Attorney Gino Brogdon Jr, The Brogdon Firm, LLC, appointed to Georgia Senate study committee (August 22, 2019, Atlanta, GA) – Gino Brogdon Jr was recently appointed by Lt. Governor Geoff Duncan to the Senate Study Committee on Reducing Georgia’s Cost of Doing Business. The study committee will be tasked with reviewing the current legal climate and other areas that impact the cost of doing business in Georgia. The committee will study the conditions, needs, issues, and problems related to the legal climate and its impact on the cost of doing business and performing healthcare services in Georgia. The committee is comprised of 15 individuals whose professional backgrounds meet specific criteria. The study committee will meet over the next several months and report its findings before or on December 1, 2019. The office of Georgia Lt. Governor Geoff Duncan distributed the following press release on August 7… [Georgia] Lt. Governor Geoff Duncan announced today the members of two Senate Study Committees: Senate Resolution 464 (Senate Education Outcomes Study Committee) and Senate Resolution 433 (Senate Reducing Georgia’s Cost of Doing Business Study Committee). “To keep Georgia the number one state for business, we have to make sure our higher education system is innovative and our economy is strong,” said Duncan. “Both of these committees will take a look at these important issues in the coming months in order to make deliberate, informed decisions to better our citizenry.” The Senate Education Outcomes Study Committee will be chaired by Senator P. K. Martin. The Senate members appointed to serve on this committee are… Sen. Sally Harrell Sen. Sheikh Rahman Sen. Lindsey Tippins Sen. Brian Strickland Sen. Frank Ginn Sen. Bill Cowsert The Senate Reducing Georgia’s Cost of Doing Business Study Committee will be chaired by Senator John Wilkinson. The Senate members appointed to serve on this committee are… Sen. Steve Gooch Sen. John Kennedy Sen. Bill Cowsert Sen. Ben Watson Sen. Emanuel Jone Additionally, the following individuals will also serve on the Senate Reducing Georgia’s Cost of Doing Business Study Committee… Cade Joiner, Shred-X Will Barnette, Home Depot Gilbert Barrett, G&H Poultry Farms Ben Gillis, Gillis Ag & Timber Andrew Reisman, M.D., Longstreet Clinic Mark Tilkin, State Farm Will Fagan, MagMutual Insurance Company Barbara Marschalk, Drew Eckl & Farnham, LLP Gino Brogdon Jr, The Brogdon Firm, LLC You can see the full Senate Resolution here: http://www.legis.ga.gov/legislation/en-US/Display/20192020/SR/433 For further information please contact:  Melissa R. Brogdon, Operations Manager at intake@brogdonfirm.com, 404-977-0385 About the Brogdon Firm, LLC: The Brogdon Firm, LLC specializes in results-driven legal solutions for victims of personal injury and professional negligence. Learn more about our practice areas here.

My journey has been characterized by moments of quiet stillness that make you believe that you are safe, only to be jerked up and down, and side to side – ribs pressing against the overhead harness, out of breath, exhilarated and at the same time drained. The rides speed around curves, carrying hopeful but cautious passengers. Finally, the familiar slow arrives, a rickety creep that signals the ride has finally ended. Hopefully, you emerge with a smile, a little rattled, but intact. Many days I feel like the shaky-kneed kid who gets off the ride, proud but content to not ride again. Whole and splintered. The duality that has dictated the last 6 months of my life is a bit of a quandary that I am still considering. Some mornings, I am my complete self, taking on new adventures, digging into my work, spending time with people that I care about. Other days, the debilitating pain that surfaces from a simple attempt to walk my dog humbles me. Like disembarking at the end of Space Mountain, I am finally feeling that sense of accomplishment that comes when the security bars lift and I can stand steadily on solid ground. Yet, from one day to the next, feeling stable feels remarkably elusive. The rip of the package releases the smell of lidocaine and menthol as my wife looks for the best place to put the patch on my back. “Put your hand where you want it.” I reach back as we share our new, sometimes daily, ritual. I put on my work shirt. I drive the hour from my home to work a little less timidly than I did in July. I can truly appreciate the conundrum my clients face now. Yes, I go to work because I love what I do and because I have to support my family. I smile. I have a good day. I laugh with colleagues. Sometimes, I even pivot quickly to avoid a hallway run-in. I almost forget. Then, I turn too sharply, and my back helps me to remember. I am not fine. The frustration that washes over client’s faces when opposing counsel suggests that their basic pursuit of life indicates that they are clearly “whole” is now palpable. The prosecutor barely looked up from his stack of case files as he mentioned the drivers multiple DUIs. It’s hard to believe that I almost missed her hearing. I remember being so angry after the accident that getting “justice” would consume an entire day’s thoughts. Ultimately, she would serve no additional jail time for plowing through a red light, crushing my Lyft driver under his steering wheel, and putting bulges in my spine while I spit out pieces of my broken teeth. I still have days that I’m so upset and want her to pay, but I also understand we are all suffering to some extent. There is no excuse for her behavior, but the more I reinforced my own victimhood, an uncomfortable thought surfaced. Could she have been a victim too? The broken headlights on Memorial Drive seemed to suddenly pale in comparison to the fractured shards of disappointment that peppered her experience with the justice system. Many times clients say to me, “this isn’t fair”. They are right, the system isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I was hit by a drunk driver with no insurance. Here I am, healthy and active one day. The next, I’m discussing the variety of back braces with the senior citizen in the pharmacy aisle next to me. I am certainly grateful that my experience was not worse, but I can’t help but pine after (and have a much better appreciation for) my pain-free former life. As I tell Plaintiffs in mediation, many times you don’t get what’s fair. But, hopefully, you can get closure. I ultimately chickened out the night before my appointment for trigger point and epidural injections. I had reached a plateau with physical therapy and my orthopedist suggested them as my next step for pain management. Instead, I took some well-heeded advice and decided to attempt a lifestyle change. I’m dabbling in yoga, pilates and core strengthening, a long-term game. Ultimately, the best advice I got to get back to normal was to not let life pass me by. So I went ahead and bought the back brace. I’ve made it half way around the world with it. My carry-on is a lot heavier with a combination of heat packs, meds, and the occasional disappointment of turning down the more strenuous activities on the itinerary. “Certainly if you can go and enjoy life, you aren’t truly impacted by the accident.” I used to make some of the same judgments as opposing counsel. Now, I know that the people that continue to travel and live life in pain are really grasping for control. Those people are brave, fighting for the life they had and pushing through to secure new happiness. I’m embracing the “both, and” dichotomy of life and reconsidering my lawyerly affinity for the surety of “either, or”. I can be hurt by a drunk driver AND not get requite. I can experience pain AND immense joy. My reward for acceptance is freedom. I am free to value the things that matter most in life. I am free to live fully in this moment. All of the unique experiences we encounter – not just the ones that bring us pleasure – enrich our lives. As long as the good mostly outweighs the bad, you’re winning at life. I am certainly working to outweigh the bad in 2019. It is a fact that my back will never be the same, that I will never see intersections the same, or travel the same and that’s ok. I will also never take for granted my health or the immense love that has surrounded me on this journey. Thank you for sharing in this process with me.

Since 2014, Gino has been serving with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Metro Atlanta. For National Mentoring Month, Gino was able to share a look into his life as a mentor and brother to his “little”, Javon. Check out their evening playing games at the Andrew and Walter Young YMCA and see more about how their relationship has grown over the years. Watch the full video here: To learn more about Big Brothers Big Sisters of Metro Atlanta visit: https://www.bbbsatl.org/

As we drove to my first orthopedic specialist appointment, we approached the corner of Boulevard and Memorial. My wife had taken off work to drive me and I found myself again a passenger at the intersection. We slowed at the light. It was the first time I had seen where the two roads converged in about a week. Without thinking, I braced. Gripping the handrail sent a lightning bolt down my back. Pain was a new, unwelcomed friend. Debilitating at times, I settled into a new normal of asking for help for the simplest things: Help with getting water, help getting up to go to the bathroom, help understanding when and how to take my medication. I felt like a total burden. My body was hurt, but my pride was dead. Honestly, I thought I would be able to go back to the office pretty quickly. In reality, my body nor mind was ready. Even with the medication, I tirelessly hunted – to no avail- the most comfortable position to work, sleep, or really do anything. But I was determined. Thinking back, I must have looked hilarious. At one point, I had taken a back pillow and placed it underneath my head. With my legs stretched across the couch, I propped my computer up onto a bed pillow on my torso and tried to type on my laptop with t-rex arms. Day by day, even with my harrowing attempts to keep up, I watched my emails pile up like bricks building a foundation of anxiety. The cocktail of medications made me dizzy, upset my stomach and didn’t actually make me pain free. But I couldn’t stop taking them. I squinted as I stared at my laptop screen hoping that my smaller eyes would will the documents into making sense. I was stuck in a labyrinth of ailments and completely sleep deprived. Every time I thought I was making progress, pain crept into a new place. Those first days dragged on. I held tight to my resolve. There were a couple of bright spots though. My youngest brother flew home immediately when he heard about the accident and walked through the door bright and early. He’s a tall, confident guy but worry painted a less familiar expression on his face. “You alright man?”. I said I was fine, and I was thankful that he accepted my lie. He pulled out a bag of turmeric shots from Kale Me Crazy and began explaining how I could use them for inflammation. Normally, I’d blow him off, but I was desperate and appreciative. He had used turmeric to reduce his inflammation and pain when he had gone through injury and training for professional basketball. The drugs, my pain and my lack of sleep combined into a fog that made simple comprehension and functioning hard. So, I was glad that his brotherly lecture was short and taking the shots was simple. The shots weren’t a cure, but within a day I was feeling less bloated and found a few moments where I recognized myself. In conjunction with my pain medication, the slight respite left me hopeful. I wished I had 10 of those shots right now as we bumped along 85 north. I had decided to go to an Orthopedic doctor recommended by the hospital that was located all the way in North Cobb County. Sitting in the car, I tried to do a mental barometer of where my pain fell on the 1 to 10 scale. But how do you know when you’re feeling the worst pain you ever felt? As we got closer to the office, I began to replay my experience with the doctor in the ER. I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for the leadership of my wife, the specific inquiry of the process from my Mom, and the comedy, yes even in the ER, from my middle brother. But some discomfort still nagged at me about my ER experience, “Did I answer those questions correctly?” “Did I name all of the areas of my pain?” “Did I leave anything out?” In that moment, the lawyer in me wanted to make sure I had given the doctors an accurate account of the incident and my symptoms. But that night, the victim in me was trying to answer the questions so the doctors could just make me feel better. “Mr. Brogdon, how would you rate your pain on scale from 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst pain imaginable?”, the ER doctor had asked. Every nurse before the ER doctor had asked me the same question. I have no idea if I gave them the same responses. Each time, I felt more confused and more stressed. He inspected the fresh cuts on my legs. Then, he turned my head to see where the now dry blood on my nose had originated. “It looks like you got pretty banged up. Where were you coming from?” I was glad to see him so it didn’t immediately occur to me that this question was not necessary for my treatment. I was told he was the only person who could administer the pain medication that I had waited nearly two hours to receive. I mumbled that I had come from drinks with friends and waited for him to give me some relief. Inspecting the burns on my elbows he looked up, “Drinks where?,” he pushed. My wife took a audible breath that I knew meant her agitation was growing. He waited for my answer. The next part of the conversation, I’m still making sense of. I halfheartedly mumbled “Rathbuns.” With a smirk he replied, “Oh I would’ve guessed you came from Peaches.” For those who don’t know, Peaches is a shady strip club in the West End. Now, trust me, I have nothing against Peaches, but the quality of my care totally changed when he heard I was dining at a nice steak restaurant with Law school friends. Suddenly, a flurry of activity began as he discussed treatment options with my wife and mom. I was almost immediately moved to another unit for a CT scan. Even the nurses seemed more concerned with my comfort. It was hard to acknowledge an unfortunate truth: my supposed social status had changed the entire trajectory of my treatment. To be clear, I have always understood that the care you experience is directly tied to how people perceive you. But, people should be treated based on their injuries and not their income. I think my doctor meant well, but the experience that night further revealed how someone’s perceptions can alter your reality. We pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. I took a breath and focused on using my legs to stand. We walked into the lobby and I exchanged knowing looks with the other battle survivors in the waiting room. Some people had casts and braces on their arms and legs, some looked fine. None of us knew the trauma each person had experienced. We each smiled at each other with understanding. I assume our caregivers shared a similar exchange. Once in the patient room, my doctor was attentive and thorough. He wasn’t concerned with my khaki shorts and polo shirt I had selected to wear to the appointment, just in case he was making the same assessments as the ER doctor. He took X-rays of my neck and back to rule out any fractures that may have been missed in the ER. He also did a physical exam to check for other injuries. Squeezing my fingers, checking the reflexes of my knees, he painstakingly recorded his observations. He was very thoughtful in how he spoke to me and at this point he did not know I was a lawyer. After about a 20-minute or so exam, he recommended I go to physical therapy, prescribed more medication to help me get some much needed rest and scheduled a follow up appointment 6 weeks later. As he exited the room, I took the deepest breath I had taken in a week and felt my spirit lighten. After all those excruciating days and even though my family had been wonderful, I was finally feeling like I had some control. I was thankful to have the chance to go to physical therapy and get my life back on track. The route we took home avoided that faithful intersection allowing me to hold on to that small feeling of peace. These are the things you can’t see in the police reports or accident narratives or witness statements. No one asks you how would you rate your peace after trauma on a scale from 1 to 10. Even if you can perfectly make sense of the events of the accident or your pain level, there is so much that goes unspoken. My clients aren’t generally lawyers who have knowledge about how records are used in litigation. They don’t have medical training. If I was overwhelmed as an attorney with my family in the room with me, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be when my clients, who have no knowledge of this process, have to answer waves of questions while fighting through pain and making sense of their trauma. Medical records do not account for the fear, anxiety, pain and confusion that are involved in seeking treatment after an accident. What if I had a physically demanding job, or other responsibilities that made it difficult to just slow down? Even with my discomfort, I was lucky that I could take the time off. And, I felt guilty that I knew most people didn’t have that luxury or the support system to take the time they needed. We slowly turned safely into the driveway of our home. Up to this point, my phone and even mailbox had been flooded with insurance companies hoping to get a statement. I finally felt like I could give them a call back.

It was my favorite kind of Georgia Night, luke warm with a light breeze. It had been so hot during the day, I specifically remember the breeze walking onto the porch at Rathbuns. We sat and talked about law school, food, cases and, mostly, the people walking on the Beltline. Easy night. Simple fun. After an hour or so, we transitioned into the dining area inside of the restaurant. I ordered the smallest steak and bravely faced the jokes from my friends. After barely finishing my meal, we discussed options for the evening but couldn’t come to an agreement. I’ve lived long enough to know nights without direction or purpose usually end in trouble. So, to my friend’s chagrin, I texted my wife that I was on my way home. I ordered a Lyft to get around that night because I knew I would have a couple drinks…or three. Admittedly, a night out with lawyers usually involves rideshare services for me. The night was now much cooler and the summer sun had set. Since my Lyft was moving slowly down Krog street, I walked closer to meet him, intercepting in a parking lot a couple blocks from the restaurant. I got into the back seat and after exchanging very short small talk, I, like most people, relaxed into the comfort of my phone screen. We took the usual route home. Every time we turned or stopped, I could feel where we were without looking. My mind’s eye crossed the busy intersection at Dekalb Ave, the right turn onto Memorial, passed by Habitat for Humanity on the left and Grindhouse further up. I had nothing to worry about. I was headed home to my wife, and while I’d had a couple of drinks, I was comforted by the safety of the Lyft. I relaxed into my seat and scrolled through my emails, a few apps, and social media as we rode towards East Atlanta. I remember looking up as we approached the intersection of Boulevard and Memorial drive. I glanced up to see the intersection. The Lyft driver moved into the turning lane and I looked down at my phone. I could feel the car begin to make the left turn. Then I woke up. The air was thick with smoke and little particles of dust and glass and unknown debris seemed to be raining down. I felt my face and body against the backseat and realized I was now laying down. The white airbags hovered all around me like a secret gathering of ghosts. A sharp pain crept up my side, and in the moment I realized – I was in an accident and I had survived. It took a few moments for me to try and make sense of things. The windshield was shattered and while everything else seemed deafeningly quiet, the driver was screaming in pain. I tasted blood and felt some debris in my mouth. Shards from my now chipped teeth scratched the cuts on my tongue and a few fillings had come out from the impact. As things became clearer, I knew I needed to call my wife. I would’ve called her before the police anyway. But where was my phone? Clutching my side, I looked around the car but the envelope of pain meant I couldn’t move too far. I reached under the seat in desperation and immediately I felt the phone screen against my fingertips. It was sitting there, unharmed, like someone had set it there for me. Speaking for the first time I realized breathing was much harder. I stumbled through, “Um, I was in an accident and I’m hurt.” It came out almost like a question. Her response was like one long list…“Are you ok? I’m coming right now, where are you?” I hesitated but eventually must have gotten out the location. Luckily, she was at home waiting on me and we were only a couple miles away. The Police Officer arrived very quickly. He asked if I was ok, what was hurting, etc. I don’t remember my answers but I do remember trying to be tough. I was trying not to complain too much. I didn’t want to seem weak or be a burden at my own accident. The Fire Department sirens and lights came quickly too. It felt like hours, but I would come to learn that it was all a matter of minutes. A chorus of firemen sang the same questions, but instead of letting me act tough, one said “you’re not ok man. Just lay back down.” My wife runs up. I could see the panic in her eyes but also the relief when she saw me try to smile. After I described my pain, I tried to convince her it wasn’t that bad, that I deal with these accidents all of the time and I wanted to go home and sleep it off. I promised her if I felt bad in the morning, we could go to the doctor. She looked for a moment as though she was considering my request. I thought my charms had worked. The same fireman said something to her that I couldn’t hear and she said “No, Gino, were going to the hospital.” The ambulance arrived and multiple EMTs and firemen removed the driver from behind the shattered windshield. His agony was still evident by the tone of his cries. The head on collision required a C-Collar around his neck. Seeing him strapped to a board with tears coming down his face made our trauma all very real. Another ambulance was on its way, but my wife wasn’t in the waiting mood. She said “no, I'm taking him myself. Lets go!” With a fireman under one arm and my wife under the other, I stumbled to her car.As they helped me to the car, I saw things at the time that I didn’t understand. There was a woman who looked stunned and in a daze staring at the damage to the vehicles. She didn’t look hurt and I couldn’t figure out how she fit into the accident. There was another person sitting on the sidewalk next to the damaged vehicles. A flurry of emergency responders moved in slow motion. Traffic was being redirected around the mangled cars and emergency vehicles. I was speechless. After painstakingly getting into her car – every step seemed to stab – the lawyer in me kicked in, “Could you take a couple pictures,” I asked. It wasn’t that I was thinking about money. But my experience has taught me how difficult it is to get proper treatment and coverage when you don’t have good evidence. When my wife showed me the pictures later, my heart dropped. I knew it was bad. And, I could remember seeing some of the damage in person, but seeing it this time was like reliving the horror in clear detail. The two cars looked completely crushed in person but it was almost surreal in that moment. Maybe it was all of the other things happening at the scene. I still can’t place the feeling of seeing, with a clear mind, what could have been the end of my story. The 6-minute drive to the hospital was agony. Every single bump and crack in the road sent shocks up my side and took my breath away. It was hard to place the exact locations of my pain – in my neck, my back, my face, my head, my tongue, my knee, my nose. My side hurt the most, but my back and neck were throbbing. My headache was so bad I just closed my eyes and tried to fight through the bumps in the road. My wife got me a wheel chair and brought me to the front of the hospital- ahead of everyone else waiting. She told the front desk attendant that I was in a serious accident and needed to see a doctor immediately. The nurse calmly started down a list of questions – had I been driving, how many drinks I had and what my insurance was – then eventually asked about my symptoms. Another attendant took my blood pressure, wrote something down, and then silently showed it to the other nurse. Whatever it said made them wheel me back to a room to wait on a doctor. A cycle of tests later, another nurse arrived. The only way that I can describe her was, almost, bored. She seemed very disconnected, which in retrospect I understand. She deals with these types of incidents as her job all the time, just like me.My Mom and middle brother arrived to the hospital a short time later. It was difficult to need their help, but I was thankful that I had so many people around me to care for me. Having them around my bed was comforting but also uncomfortable. I was usually the one in charge, and this was all new territory. In that moment, I had a small epiphany. Laying in the hospital bed, I thought back to all the times I felt somewhat disconnected from my client’s injuries and how scary and overwhelming the experience of being in a car accident must have been. You’re confused, hurt and then have to navigate advocating for yourself. You leave the trauma of a serious accident and as soon as you get to the hospital you’re riddled with questions like “How many drinks did you have?” “Do you have insurance?” “What’s your group number?” “Who was at fault?” “Did you have your seat belt on?” “What side of the car were you sitting on?” ”Why can’t you remember?”. Normally these are not challenging questions, but when you have just been traumatized, they can be difficult and you can get thing wrongs. In litigation, lawyers are scouring through your medical records to find inconsistencies. They use your initial complaints and statements and compare them to other records and statements to see if you are “lying.” I felt bad for any judgments I may have had before. Here I was in the hospital looking for help and I was being treated like it was my fault! The rest of the night transitioned between short bursts of activity and stints of tiresome waiting. An x-ray, a few CT scans, some poking and prodding, pain relievers. Five agonizing hours later, I was released to go home. I was thankful for my life, but had no concept of the road that lay ahead for me physically and emotionally. I was changed and getting back to normal has been more than a notion.

READ GINO’S PROFILE IN VOL. 7 ISSUE 3 OF ATLANTA ATTORNEY MAGAZINE!