As appeared in the Fulton County Daily Report

Ken Millwood was imposing physically, but to me he was a giant of a man. He was a kind and gentle man. He took his work with the utmost seriousness, but he did not take himself too seriously.

By a twist of fate for which I will always be thankful, I was placed in the office next to Ken when I joined Nelson Mullins Riley & Scarborough and again when our firm moved to Atlantic Station. I have often reflected on how unbelievably lucky I was to be in the office next to Ken. I was given a daily tutorial on how to be a better lawyer, how to treat people better, and how to be more respectful and understanding of people.

After receiving both his undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Georgia, Ken enjoyed a distinguished 36-year legal career, serving as a managing partner for three major law firms in Atlanta. Being managing partner means you are the chief tone-setter, problem solver and ultimate arbiter for a group of professionals who have never made a mistake in their lives. In other words, it is an impossible job. Ken was born to be a managing partner.

Ken was the founding managing partner of the Atlanta office of Nelson Mullins Riley & Scarborough when it was formed 19 years ago. I have heard a lot of stories in recent days of the founding of Nelson Mullins Atlanta and have pretty much decided none of them can be true. I have confirmed that after some spirited negotiations with the Nelson Mullins partners in South Carolina, seven partners, led by Ken, established Nelson Mullins Atlanta in 1992. I understand six of the seven new Atlanta partners fancied themselves as the "Young Guns" with Ken providing constant adult supervision. Nelson Mullins Atlanta was the first office for Nelson Mullins outside of South Carolina.

Ken formed an incredible bond and affection with his partners in South Carolina and offices in other states based on mutual respect and trust. Ken shared a special relationship with the members of the firm's Executive Committee, on which he served for many years. Ken did comment to me that he never realized how boring I-20 was between Atlanta and Columbia until he started traveling to South Carolina regularly for meetings. He also said that when he went to an Executive Committee meeting at Clemson University he felt a little like he was going behind enemy lines.

Ken was a true leader by example. He was the soul of our office. Ken's coin of the realm was respect. He gave it out and he got it back unequivocally. One staff member observed to me that Ken treated everyone he met with the same care, compassion and energy regardless of title. You could be the most successful partner or a high school summer intern and Ken gave you his attention, time and kindness. Ken knew the first name of every person who worked in the building.

Ken never missed a staff meeting or staff party (although he thought the music was too loud). He always made it a point to thank the staff for their important role in the operations of Nelson Mullins. One staff member wrote to Ken recently: "Everyone was so amazed that the Managing Partner Ken Millwood would sit down at a table of 'non-attorneys' and talk with us as your friends. You treated us all as your colleagues."

Donna Morris served as Ken's trusted assistant for the last 14 years. Donna wrote Ken: "How many secretaries can say they love their job because of their boss? I am one who can say it because of you."

One of our partners recently wrote to Ken: "I have always marveled about your leadership style—the perfect combination of a commanding, yet casual, presence and a keen sense of humor. You are a very beloved man, and you are responsible for creating an incredible office culture that will endure. Please know the many ways in which you have touched and made a difference in my life."

As the firm's general counsel and ethics counsel, Ken was the lawyer to the lawyers. Whenever Ken was presented with a conflict issue, he reviewed it with fairness and sensitivity with the clients' interests coming first, the firm's interests coming second and the individual lawyer's interests coming third. Because Ken had earned a universal reputation of being fair and evenhanded, his opinion and decision were respected. People knew he was committed to doing what was right.

If you were to ask Ken what he enjoyed most about being general counsel to the firm, he would say, "The best part is interacting with all the lawyers in the firm." If you asked him about the worst part of the job, he would say, "Interacting with all of the lawyers in the firm."

I never heard Ken bad-mouth another lawyer at Nelson Mullins. I know for a fact that we gave him ample reason to do so. He just would not do it.

I have heard one observation repeated over and over about Ken. When you had a problem and took it to Ken, it became his problem. Ken never shied from sharing and lightening your load and increasing his.

I can vividly recall the case that Matthew Lerner and I had several years ago during which we encountered a conflict issue on Dec. 30, at 9 p.m. Quite simply, we were stuck in the mud. I knew I needed to do the legal equivalent of shining the "S" over Metropolis, so I told Matthew, "I am going to call Ken Millwood." Matthew wondered aloud whether that was a good idea given the time of day. I was as adamant as I was desperate. It took me a few minutes to figure out Ken and his wife Sharron were at their place in the North Carolina mountains, but I got Ken on the phone. I was trying to think of an icebreaker as the phone rang, so when Ken answered the phone I said, "Ken … this is Wade … what did you get for Christmas?" Ken's response, deadpan, was "This had better be good." It probably wasn't, but Ken helped us analyze and resolve our issue. At the end of our conversation, Ken said, "Anything else?" And I said, "No, sir." And he replied "Happy new year and go Dawgs!" (I guess that was a year UGA was still playing in a New Year's Bowl.)

If you went to see Ken about an issue or a difference of opinion, you always left feeling better and that you got a fair airing. He never brushed you off.

Ken's title was Atlanta managing partner and attorney at law, but it should have been "problem solver extraordinaire." His clients loved him and relied on him, trusting him with their most difficult issues. One longtime client of Ken's sent us a note that perhaps best sums up Ken as an attorney. Ken's client wrote: "Ken told me once that part of an attorney's role was to relax the client and make them feel better. He certainly had a way about that. In my entire career there is no one I hold in higher esteem than Ken. I was always very proud to be represented by your firm because of Ken's stature, both as an attorney and as a man."

As one partner so aptly put it, Ken possessed a towering intellect. Truer words were never spoken. I certainly saw it every day in the office in person. Ken and the senior litigators in the Atlanta office would frequently bat around by email thorny litigation issues that arose. Ken would cc me in the exchanges, perhaps hoping I might learn something. Ken's legal analysis was spot on every time, replete with his own real world experiences. He always concluded his emails by saying "Come see me if you wish to discuss further."

Ken knew how to calm a room. I can recall many times Ken seeing a group of us meeting in a conference room or office, sticking his head in and lightening the mood. One time, several of us were meeting in the conference room next to his office. Ken stopped by and observed, "This looks pretty grim. Did you all miss nap time or recess or something?" We took that as an opportunity to ask, "Ken, do you have a few minutes?" We then ran our issue by Ken and he helped give us a different, better perspective on our issue.

Speaking of the question "Ken, do you have a few minutes?", I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard that question or asked it myself. Ken always had whatever time you needed.

Ken was a dedicated supporter of legal causes, most notably the Atlanta Legal Aid Society and Atlanta Volunteer Lawyers Foundation, that ensured the less fortunate had access to an attorney. In fact, the last email I got from Ken before he went on medical leave was to confirm his continued financial support of the Atlanta Volunteer Lawyers Foundation.

Ken loved to laugh and he loved telling stories on himself. One legendary story involved Ken's Lexus being stolen one spring from our parking lot at the 999 Peachtree building. Ken's Lexus was eventually found—somewhat worse for the wear—overflowing with Krystal hamburger wrappers. Ken once told me the story and said he would have been delighted to buy the guy a bag of Krystals if he would just have left the darn car.

When I interviewed with Nelson Mullins, I recall my discussion with Ken about how the Atlanta office interacted with the other offices and particularly the home office in Columbia. Ken said, "Like most things in life, you have to take the good with the bad. The good is that our partners in other offices are great people and fine lawyers with whom we share values that allow this firm to be successful." I said, "And the bad?" Ken replied, "If South Carolina beats Georgia or Clemson wins two in a row, you never hear the end of it."

Ken was an incredible mentor to young lawyers. Ken just had a gift for that role. Whenever we had a meeting on a case, Ken would always turn first to the youngest lawyer in the room and ask for their opinion. He always complimented the young lawyer on his or her idea or suggestion. I never witnessed him tell a young lawyer how to act or how to do something. Ken never let a young lawyer take the blame for any error; Ken insisted that any mistake on a case was his. He empowered lawyers to go out and do their best and he would support them. I read one note a young lawyer who is now with another firm sent to Ken. She wrote: "There are very few people who help you choose your path—help you be a better you—and help you recognize your capabilities so that you can go achieve them. Thank you, Ken. You are loved."

A lawyer who worked with Ken almost 20 years ago sent Ken a note that said, "I want you to know that you had a profound impact on my life. Your legal instincts, authoritarian aura, and charisma, inspired and intimidated me as a young lawyer, and your generosity and continuing to mentor me long after I left Atlanta, left me forever in your debt."

Ken was not perfect. Few of us are. He could rail at an unfair ruling with the best of them. I rode with Ken a few times and he wasn't a very good driver. I thought he was pretty bad, actually. Also, if another driver was not driving up to Ken's high standards, Ken would voice his opinion in colorful terms.

Ken had an incredible sense of humor. One young lawyer told me about one of their cases in which the other side announced it needed to take a deposition in a prison in New Jersey. Ken called the young lawyer into his office and told the young lawyer that whenever the deposition was scheduled, Ken was unavailable and that the young lawyer should attend for some "good experience."

Another time, Ken was trying a case with one of our young lawyers. Ken had stepped out to use the restroom during a break. When the judge came back and Ken wasn't there, the judge said to the young lawyer, "I hope Mr. Millwood is not off on his BlackBerry." The young lawyer told the judge that Ken didn't have a BlackBerry (which was true at the time) and was in the bathroom, but the judge was dubious and ordered the young lawyer to "Go get Mr. Millwood right now." So the young lawyer had to hustle to the bathroom and tell Ken that the judge had ordered him back "right now." As Ken and the young lawyer walked out of the bathroom together, Ken observed, "This is not going in my memoirs."

Ken pulled off a combination that is rarely accomplished in life: He was our respected leader, but everyone also considered him to be their friend. And what a friend he was. I had a minor health scare a few years ago and had to be in the hospital for a procedure and tests for a few days. There was uncertainty. The day before I went in, Ken sent me a simple, one-sentence note: "Wade, we are with you all the way." How much those eight words meant —and continue to mean—to me.

In her note to Ken, one of our staff members eloquently described the view of everyone who knew Ken: "I have spoken to many folks here in the office, and outside the office, and they all say the same thing about you—that you helped them somehow along the way, that they would trust you in anything, that they felt tremendous affection for you, and that they knew they were your friend without the words being spoken, because you clearly have a genuine affection and concern and empathy for others."

We have suffered an incredible loss in the passing of Ken Millwood. He was just an utterly decent man. When I last saw Ken at Piedmont Hospital, I knew he was not well and I feared he did not have much time left. I did not want to leave anything left unsaid. I said, "Ken, I love you and we love you." Ken looked at me and said, "I love y'all too."

Goodbye, our beloved and respected leader.

Goodbye, our wise and understanding mentor.

Goodbye, our kind and gentle friend.

A scholarship is being planned in Ken Millwood's memory at the University of Georgia School of Law.

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