Times and technologies have changed but the legal profession remains one of master and apprentice. If you are fortunate, you will learn the law under a generous and devoted mentor who takes an interest in you and your development. If you are blessed, that relationship will span decades and ripen to a deep and lasting friendship. Like so many members of our legal community, I had Abe Reich of Fox Rothschild as my mentor—and it made all the difference. As we celebrate Abe’s retirement, I reflect on his mentorship with deep gratitude and a commitment to continuing his welcoming legacy.

My story begins with a long table at the Elks Club in Elmira, New York.

Walking distance from the Chemung County Courthouse, there was a long table at the Elks Club where lawyers would gather for lunch. You did not need a reservation or to plan ahead. You could just show up and enjoy a meal and conversation with other members of the local bar. If you walked in at lunchtime, you would find a table of attorneys talking about the news of the day, sharing updates about their families and neighbors, or hashing out the details of their cases.

Growing up, my father was a judge in that courthouse and my maternal grandfather had a law practice in a one-story office building nearby. They regularly attended the Elks Club lunches and, when I was old enough, one of them would bring me along on school holidays or summer break. I had always known the lawyers in my family but, through those outings, I came to know what it meant to be a member of a legal community. The lawyers at the table were competitors, litigation adversaries, and judges who presided over their cases—yet it all felt very natural. Members of a profession taking time to connect and support one another.

Against that backdrop, the Philadelphia legal community felt like a different world when I began my career at Fox Rothschild after three years at Temple Law. There were so many lawyers. The Philadelphia legal directory—published in hard copy at the time—was as big as a phone book. The office buildings reached into the sky and there was no Elks Club table in sight. I remember the weight of those early months: the anonymity of a big-city bar, the uncertainty of whether I would ever find my footing. I put my head down, started working, and hoped it would work out.

At the time, Fox Rothschild had about 300 lawyers. Abe Reich was the managing partner, and he commanded attention and respect. Full of energy and a wide smile, you could not help but gravitate to his charisma. I do not remember the first time I met Abe, but I remember that he immediately made me feel welcome at Fox and in Philadelphia. He was interested in where I had come from and in my family. He shared details of his own roots in Connecticut, where his parents had emigrated after surviving the Holocaust, and he beamed when talking about his wife Sherri and two sons, Spencer and Zandy.

As a young lawyer, I walked into Abe’s office nervous about making a good impression but excited to work on the important cases he was handling, many of them for other members of the profession. Abe is a type-A personality who demands attention to detail—he calls it “ATD”— and has always been willing to engage in vigorous debate about case strategy. Despite his stature at the firm and as a member of the American College of Trial Lawyers, Abe seldom pulled rank. He expected strong written drafts but took the time to teach me to improve along the way and did not let his own voice get in the way of me developing mine. As lead counsel, he afforded others important roles in the representation and access to clients—key ingredients for growth that not everyone shares so liberally.

I saw this firsthand. As second-year associates, a colleague and I successfully tried a partnership dispute to a Philadelphia jury. Abe provided the opportunity and drilled me until I could do the closing argument without notes. That is Abe—a mentor in every sense.

A former Chancellor of the Philadelphia Bar Association, Abe introduced me and other young lawyers at Fox to the broader legal community. He corralled us to attend bar association events and made sure that, when we were there, we did not stand in a corner. At the quarterly meetings at the Bellevue, in a room with hundreds of attorneys, it seemed as if Abe knew almost everyone—because he did. While Abe was comfortable making conversation with leaders of the bar and often had a seat on the dais, he was just as likely to spend time welcoming a newcomer. He has always made time for others, especially those who might need a little attention.

He has done it at Fox, traveling to the firm’s now coast-to-coast roster of offices to meet with associates and build culture at a firm that has grown to more than 1,000 lawyers under his leadership. He did it at the bar association, using his tenure as chancellor to elevate legal aid organizations. First in his family to graduate college, Abe has always been a champion for the underdog and the outsider.

As time passed, I found my own version of the Elks Club table in Abe’s office. He had a great custom setup: built-in wood cabinets, a desk to match, and a round table with three chairs. Sherri designed it, he confessed. Abe would often invite our clients—and sometimes even our adversaries—over for lunch. Other times it was just us. We would order from Coventry Deli and sit around that table, discussing our cases or catching up over current events and what was going on in each other’s lives. Through those lunches and Abe’s many other kindnesses, the great big Philadelphia legal community came to feel like home.

This April, Abe became a retired partner at Fox. He is still a fixture in the office, spending even more time mentoring the young lawyers and Drexel interns. He and I are still teaching our ethics class at Penn Law—“Ethics and Advocacy, From the Boardroom to the Courtroom,” a course he designed, continuously refines, and has been teaching for nearly two decades. But he is rightfully stepping back from the demands of a profession to which he has contributed so much to make more time for his other passions—most importantly, Sherri and their beautiful family, which has grown to include two daughters-in-law and four grandchildren about whom Abe speaks so often and with pride.

Abe once offered what he called “Reich’s Rules” for young lawyers. He said, “there is nothing more important than your reputation … and the nature of the legal profession is so pressurized that you know the opportunity to cross the line is presented … you’ve got to remember that your reputation for honesty and integrity has to be above reproach. And if you ever feel a weakness, find someone who will be a mentor for you if you don’t have one.” Abe’s commitment to me and so many others is an integral part of Abe’s legacy.

To honor that legacy—but more importantly to imbue our firm with the values Abe has lived for more than 50 years at the bar—Fox Rothschild is renaming our mentoring program the “Abraham C. Reich Mentorship Program.” Abe, you can call it the ARM for short. We know you love a good acronym. Thank you for everything.

Reprinted with permission from the September 17 issue of The Legal Intelligencer. © 2026 ALM Media Properties, LLC. Further duplication without permission is prohibited. All rights reserved.