Origin Story- How I Got Started in Personal Injury Law: A Journey of Mentorship, Humility, and a Wardrobe Malfunction
Adrianos Facchetti is a personal injury lawyer in Burbank, California, who brings a sincere and practical approach to cases, from auto accidents and dog bites to premises liability. Fluent in Spanish and Portuguese, Adrianos connects with a diverse client base. Fun fact: He first shared his legal insights on MyShingle.com back in 2009! Find out more at https://facchettilaw.com.
Starting a career in law is never easy, but doing it on your own fresh out of law school is a whole different challenge. For me, the decision to start my own practice wasn’t just about ambition; it was about following a family tradition. Coming from an immigrant family, I was raised with the stories of my parents’ resilience—my father from Argentina, who ran his own business for decades, and my mother from Brazil, who supported every dream we dared to pursue. My brother had already carved his path by opening his own restaurant right after culinary school, so striking out on my own seemed like the natural choice. Yet, no amount of family inspiration could prepare me for the reality that lay ahead.
The Early Struggles
The first few years were incredibly tough. I found myself grappling with the dual challenge of marketing a fledgling practice while also learning the ropes of being a lawyer. The solitude of those early days was crushing. I’d often sit alone in my small studio apartment in North Hollywood, questioning every decision I’d made, wondering if I’d ever be able to make this work. The phone didn’t ring much, and when it did, it wasn’t always the kind of call that could keep the lights on. There were days when I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake. I made a mere $19,000 or so my first year.
Then came a lucky encounter that changed everything. A client with a host of legal problems—real estate issues, city disputes, you name it—decided to take a chance on me. As I worked through his various cases, he introduced me to another lawyer, George, who would become a mentor in the most unexpected ways.
Meeting George: A Mentor Like No Other
George was a Harvard Law graduate with a career spanning over 50 years. He was gruff and intimidating, a larger-than-life character who looked like he could have been an extra in the Munsters. Despite his formidable presence, George had a passion for the intellectual challenges of law and was known for taking on tough cases.
He took me under his wing, maybe as an excuse to dodge the retirement his wife had in mind for him. George taught me the fundamentals of litigation and trial work, emphasizing preparation and fearlessness.
One of our first projects together was an appellate brief. Feeling confident, I submitted my draft to him. He glanced at it and said, “Adrianos, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this is a real piece of shit.” It was a brutal critique, unlike anything I’d experienced in a professional setting. But through multiple revisions, he pushed me to improve, instilling a work ethic and a standard of excellence that I still try to maintain to this day.
George also taught me to be fearless. I remember a confrontation with a particularly aggressive defense attorney. George stood his ground, unflinching, and it was a masterclass in maintaining professionalism while refusing to be bullied.
The First Personal Injury Case
Then came the moment that defined my career path. George approached me with a new case: an auto accident. I was hesitant. Personal injury wasn’t where I saw myself. But George insisted, “It’s for a former client I’ve known for over 20 years. Her daughter was involved in a rear-end collision. We’re doing this case.”
The case was a challenge from the start. The client had fired three or four previous lawyers. The initial offer from Allstate Insurance was a mere $7,500, and the client hadn’t gotten an MRI until three years after the accident. George, however, was determined to push for the policy limits of $25,000. He was insistent, saying, “We’re not taking anything less than the policy limits.” I wanted to settle for a lower amount, considering my financial situation, but George was firm. “If it means going to trial, we go to trial.
Trial and the Unexpected Turn
We went to trial, and it was immediately clear things weren’t going smoothly. George, in his late 70s, struggled physically; he couldn’t stand for jury selection, his suit was rumpled, his hair disheveled, and his shoulder had enough dandruff to rival a snowstorm. I was worried, convinced we were going to lose.
Midway through the trial, George started delegating more responsibilities to me. I was anxious, feeling unprepared, but George insisted, “You’re doing the closing argument tomorrow.” I balked, but he wouldn’t hear it: “If you don’t do it, I never want to see your face again.” I said, “OK, I’ll do it!”
That night, I stayed up late, desperately preparing for the closing argument. I had no guidance, no experience—just a hope to connect with the jury by being sincere. The next morning, when the judge called for the plaintiff’s closing argument, I stood up, much to the client’s surprise. I focused on being genuine and clear, hoping it would be enough.
The Verdict
After I finished, we waited in the hallway for the verdict. A defense attorney approached me and said, “Adrianos, I’ve done 20 jury trials, and that was the best closing argument I’ve ever seen.” I was skeptical, thinking, “What does this guy want?” I even thought he might be hitting on me because I couldn’t believe the compliment. I just couldn’t accept it!
He continued, “I was ready to open up my own wallet after that closing argument.” I thanked him awkwardly, still processing whether he was serious or just playing some game.
Then came the verdict: $80,000—well over the policy limits and more than 10 times the initial offer. I was ecstatic. But as I basked in the victory, the client’s mother whispered to me, “Adrianos, you did a great job, but I didn’t want to tell you during your closing argument—you had a hole in your back pocket, and your underwear was showing the entire time.”
At that moment, I felt a strange mix of triumph and utter embarrassment that I’d never felt before and that I can only describe by telling this story. I often joke that the jury probably felt sorry for me, thinking, “This poor kid doesn’t even have enough money for a decent suit without a hole in it—let’s give him a few extra bucks so he can buy a new one!
What I Learned
This experience taught me one of the most important lessons of my career: It doesn’t matter if you have slicked-back hair or look perfect in the courtroom. What truly matters is that you are honest, trustworthy, and sincere. The jury wants to believe you—they want to see that you’re not just another lawyer trying to win a case but someone who genuinely cares about their client and the truth.
I realized that my superpower is earnestness. When I argue with opposing counsel, they tend to believe I’m coming from a good place. I believe that’s a powerful negotiating tactic that benefits my clients. It’s an approach I’ve carried with me throughout my career. I strive to connect with people—clients, juries, and even opposing counsel—by being genuine and truthful. I don’t just present a case; I advocate with honesty and authenticity. This approach has served me well, not only in personal injury law but in every aspect of my practice.
And that’s how I got my start in personal injury law.