The legendary actor Peter O'Toole wasn't a lawyer (but read on), much less a Michigan lawyer. Nevertheless, the loss of his unique flamboyance seemed to beg for a post. So there's this, from the New York Daily News:
Brooklyn: In the 1980s, I drove a cab while I was in college and law school. One night I picked up Peter O’Toole from P.J. Clarke’s and took him to the Stanhope Hotel. While stopped at a light, he looked at the hack license bearing my name. “O’Hara, are you spying on me?” The silence was broken when O’Toole cracked up and said, “You’re joining me at the Stanhope for a drink.” When I said I had a few more hours on my shift, he peeled off $120 and said, “Can you take a break?” I parked in front. This son of an Irish bookmaker was just like he was on late-night TV shows — loaded to the gills, but a class act. I told him I wanted to go to law school, and he said that’s what he had always wanted to do. I asked what Johnny Carson was like, and he said, “A lot quieter than you think.” We drank for an hour (or two). With a handshake, he said he was going to look for me on the Supreme Court. More than 30 years later, it seems like it was last night. Rest in peace, Mr. O’Toole. John K. O’Hara
