The Velvet Hammer™ Podcast
Trial lawyers can be real people, too—and this podcast proves it. The Velvet Hammer™ is back, and this time, Karen Koehler isn’t going it alone. Known for her fearless advocacy, bold storytelling, and, yes, even the occasional backwards dress moment, Karen is teaming up with Mo Hamoudi, a lawyer, poet, and storyteller whose empathy and resilience add a whole new dynamic to the show.
Together, they’re pulling back the curtain on trial law, diving into bold topics, heartfelt stories, and the messy, hilarious moments that make trial lawyers human. This is an unscripted, raw, and fun take on life inside—and outside—the courtroom.
The Velvet Hammer™ Podcast
Life on overdrive: won’t stop can’t stop. Can she slow down?
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In this candid episode of "The Velvet Hammer," seasoned trial lawyer Karen Kohler takes listeners behind the scenes of her intense and demanding career, revealing the struggles and triumphs that come with fighting high-stakes legal battles. After decades in the field, Karen reflects on her journey from being one of the youngest members in the exclusive ABOTA trial bar to managing a bustling law firm, all while navigating the personal and professional challenges that come with it. She shares her internal conflict about dedicating time to legal organizations versus her moral missions and personal life. Karen openly discusses her relentless work ethic, the adrenaline of winning cases, and the perpetual quest for justice that keeps her going, even amidst the burnout that many lawyers face. Despite her packed schedule and the constant pull between career, causes, and personal life, Karen remains unapologetically passionate about her work, while also acknowledging the importance of family and close friends. Tune in to explore the intricate balance of a life fully lived in the pursuit of justice, and the contemplation of what truly matters when the gavel finally rests.
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Hosted by Karen Koehler and Mo Hamoudi, trial lawyers at Stritmatter Law, a nationally recognized plaintiff personal injury and civil rights law firm based in Washington State.
Produced by Mike Todd, Audio & Video Engineer, and Kassie Slugić, Executive Producer.
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The Velvet Hammer an Inside look at Trial lawyer Life with Karen Kohler real life stories about fighting the good fight.
I quit another legal organization last week,
one that I belonged to for almost 20 years, and it was ABODA. And ABODA A-B-O-T-A is an invite only
trial
bar for both plaintiff and defense lawyers. That at the time was based upon how many trials you had completed as a lead counsel, and then you had to
go through the popularity contest of being
solicited and nominated and voted in.
When I did that in the early two thousand s,
I was one of the youngest people in a bota, because you have to have been lead counsel on at least 20 trials, which in the civil arena at the time was something that you couldn't do until you were a little older.
So
I was cracking 40 and a member of a boda. Well, here I am now, 63 years old,
and I decided no.
And it wasn't just because I felt that the organization didn't benefit me, didn't reflect my values of diversity, and didn't recognize me for my accomplishments in the local bar.
It was because of time.
Interestingly, after I told the office that I did that, because it's quite the honor. Supposedly Paul Stripmatter talked about how disillusioned he'd been with Ebota decades ago, but as well as all most other legal organizations except for about three of them,
but he retained membership in all of them for the quote unquote prestige of know it's on the bio.
I don't care about that. I'm a person that's paid my dues and
doesn't need an organization to tell me that I'm a good lawyer.
So I said goodbye.
My exodus of bar associations continues. The primary driver, other than the issue of diversity,
fatigue and
disillusionment with trial bar organizations where you basically.
You get asked by buddies or you have to pay a membership fee. That's ridiculous. Like, we're talking about close to what, $700 to $1,000 a year to belong to some of these organizations. And then you have to pay to go to the one dinner they have the year, and there's nothing else that happens in between for the prestige of it, screw that.
But the other reason was my time.
I am being coached to try to reduce my time. Coaching is going very well on many fronts but failing to help me on the matter of time. And that is because I am already very, very efficient. I already have a lot of help. At times I work with five paralegals in the law firm
and then the associates and my other partners, we work in teams.
But just the sheer volume of what I have is too much.
It's the proverbial too much of a good thing.
I'm so fortunate to have my practice. I'm so fortunate to be able to have clients and causes that I believe in
be my occupation
on average. And I've never actually gone through the actual process of counting it since I stopped being a defense lawyer and had to keep timesheets.
I believe a light week for me is 60 hours a week.
I think that that's a light week. And it involves both casework and office management.
It doesn't include
that part of my social life that involves
being interested in everything that touches upon what I do. It my social media and my media
searches constantly. A person that's constantly trying to stay up to date and figure out what's going on,
that's not included in 60 hours a week. When I'm busier, it averages somewhere between 70 to 80 hours a week.
I didn't start out this way.
I started out working part time and
did that until I was
36, 37 years old,
actually. Probably 37 or 38 years old. And that worry of being behind
of everyone pass me by because I was raising children and working part time. But. It didn't make me panicked, but I had it. I remember having those thoughts. I remember feeling slightly not so much inferior,
more as excluded out of the inner circle of real lawyers.
Not an imposter syndrome because I knew the law and I was confident in my head knowledge,
but not being in the world of law, not hobnobbing, not going to social events, not being able to stay after work, to go out with other peers, only coming into the office at the time. I was hybrid
when it was not
looked at as being a first class royal lawyer role.
Perhaps that almost 13 year delay, total delay, I guess,
of my career. Taking off
helped me to take off because I wasn't tired. I was
so used to being extremely efficient and learning how to work with children around, even though, again, if you talk to them, they'll tell you that I didn't pay them enough attention when I got really busy, even if I could multitask.
Noel, my youngest, my baby, turned 30 today. So my children have been out of my office, out of my office, out of my home
for a long time.
They used to keep me balanced and I am no longer.
I work too much.
How do you undo that?
How do you stop taking
a case
if someone
dies or is permanent disabled for the rest of their life and it's someone's fault that I can make a difference for these people
even if it's taking on a government or an insurance company or whatever, which is going to be exhausting.
I can't say no.
I used to have a bar
for the level of case I would take. Used to be no bar because I wanted to be in trial all the time as a younger lawyer. And I was. I loved those smaller cases because the stakes were smaller
and. In the particular when I tried a ton of cases
and then the bar got raised. Then it was maybe $50,000 in the 90s or early 2000s. Then it was when I joined this law firm,
it was well, the case can't be less than $100,000. That was in 2004. And sure, there's been inflation, but then it went up and went it up and it went up and pretty much now, unless it is a cause case,
meaning like the protest case, where we represent a third of our clients, third of our or 40% of our 50 clients pro bono.
Unless it's a case that's a cause, normally, for civil justice,
then. My
borrow was 500,000. But in the past several years, it's been a million,
and I'm still too busy.
And if you're a lawyer, you're thinking, wow,
you it
is a universal reality
that lawyers burn out,
that lawyers who believe in their causes, who are passionate about their clients, who want to keep fighting for them,
that we
have basically
an addiction issue. We can't say no. It will impact the rest of our life.
The dopamine and adrenaline rush that we get from crushing the bad guy or just throwing ourselves at them time and time again of winning a recovery for a client that will change the rest of their life, that will allow them not to live in a nursing home for the rest of their life, to live with dignity.
It's a dilemma.
I have two coaches, one from the office and one personal, who are trying to help me. And so far,
they haven't figured out how. I haven't figured out how
on management I've been able to bring on. We're at the one year anniversary of Denny, who's our new director of administration. And thank goodness for him. He is so strong on process. I was never good on process.
I'm a go with your flow, keep a positive attitude, believe that we will prevail, keep on going kind of person.
His processes have come in and I see hope in that regard, but I'm still the managing partner for this law firm. There's not a week go by that I don't have meetings and hours and hours of time devoted management
probably the biggest factor driving my concern about hours is next year when I'm scheduled to be in back to back and overlapping trials for almost the entirety of the year.
It's given me angst,
and I don't get angst from things like that. I stuff it down. It's part of the job description, it's part of my personality. I worry about what's right in front of me, and I have given more thought to next year. Probably not not what you think. It's not obsessive thought.
Like, I don't ruminate over it, but it pops into my head and I have to squash it down. I notice it, that I'm thinking about it, even if it just pops up for a minute.
Yesterday was Sunday, was the last beautiful day of fall. I was up at the cabin. I came back early to see
Sophie and Liam's swimming lessons and my daughter Christina and her husband saw.
In order to see them on Sunday, I had to get up at 06:00 at the cabin, leave there by 630 and then drive drive
after that was finished, which was wonderful.
I came home and made it home around 1230,
made some lunch, sat down to work on a complaint and some other things, and got up
twice to take Nalapati, feed her dinner and finally turned off my computer at 08:15 p.m..
When people see
a lawyer that has been in a lot of trials,
that manages a law firm
who has children
and great cases,
that behind the scenes story.
It, while not exactly mirroring, mine, is going to be similar
most of the time, especially if it's a woman, because women
take care of the other stuff of life, according to statistics. Especially for single women like me. Single for 23 years. Can you believe that? I was divorced. 2020 felt so,
yeah. I'm the only partner in my law firm without a spouse, in particular a wife.
Somehow
there has to be time to maintain family and maintain friends.
And as I've said before, what has gone by the wayside for me are a lot of my friends. I've kept my best friends. I guess that's special. After all.
What is the moral of this story? Don't get too good as a plane of flur. Otherwise you'll work all the time. I don't think so.
As a plane of flurry, you kind of develop, at least in my case,
you develop this attitude. And I developed it early on that life is super short, because your clients, right, they were fine one day and they were dead the next.
They were fine one day. They were quadriplegic, you know, they had quadriplegia the next.
So sudden something can change. And so it's almost like
I was raised in this practice to have an underlying current and sense of live every day as absolutely packed and full as possible, because life is short and tenuous.
And so I have no regrets about how much I can get done in a day. It's shocking sometimes. Remember one time I was kind of scrolling through my photos
during the duck trial. I was looking for something to pull up for a speech I was giving. And it was really kind of amazing that during the four month of the duck trial ride the duck trial, how much
other photo were involved? I went up to the cabin all the time. I saw my new baby grandchild every week. There's so many pictures and so much activity that holidays were going on.
I went on hikes. It was just packed
and. It.
I guess that's the moral of the story.
I think one of the biggest genetic gifts that my parents gave me was my borderline hyperactivity disorder, which is I'm really not hyperactive in the sense that
I'm not always tapping my foot. You wouldn't be nervous if you were sitting next to me. You'd think I was very calm. I'm outwardly very calm, but inwardly I'm constant motion.
Super fast and super efficient.
So I think I'm going to keep going until that day comes when I am no longer able to function at the way that I do. And
things will just have to change.
Maybe the coaches, maybe someone's going to come up with some better theories or philosophies or techniques on how I can dial back from this incredible, fantastic,
all encompassing journey of life that I'm on.
Then maybe not.
At the end of the day, as long as I can spend time with my family, more time would be better. And I think that needs to be the priority. More time with my best friends, less time with legal organizations that do not enhance
my moral missions of life. Even though I do like the people, don't get me wrong.
The better.
I have no regrets.
Rock on. Over and out.
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