Few can say they never said unkind words about anyone

That can’t be said about most of us. Gossip rules. Always has, always will. We love to dish the dirt about others. Perhaps it makes us feel better about ourselves.

If I lived by Vince’s gentlemanly code, I wouldn’t have a job. I’m paid to deliver thwacks when I think they are deserved.

Many live by Alice Roosevelt Longworth’s famous quote: “If you can’t say anything good about someone, sit right here by me.” But Vince wasn’t like that and it’s one reason he had a legion of friends from all walks of life, from judges to construction workers.

Vince was set to host a “Let’s Drink to Summer Party” at his home on July 3. But the Thursday before his party, on July 1, the Las Vegas trial attorney was jogging when he collapsed and died. He was 57.

At Tuesday’s visitation on the eve of his funeral, the speakers and those present proved Vince had a world of friends who weren’t shy about saying they loved him.

Vince was active with the State Bar of Nevada, a much- maligned group often criticized for not being aggressive enough about disciplining bad attorneys. He devoted years serving on the board and was president from 2005 to 2006 because he wanted to help improve the image of attorneys. Instead of being just a critic on the outside, he worked from within to try to improve the state Bar.

U.S. District Judge Philip Pro called Vince “a leader in our profession” because of his efforts to improve the Bar. The judge also said he “never heard Vince say a bad word about anyone.”

It wasn’t Vince’s style. He was fun-loving and exuberant and loved to dance. They are now divorced, but Vince danced like a madman at his wedding to Mary. They had two children, Michael and Lauren, now grown. He had a special affinity for “the little people,” wanting them to share his zest and exuberance.

His former law partner Barry Lieberman noted, “There are very few people who walk this earth having only friends and no enemies.” Vince was one of the few.

On the night when he was supposed to be hosting his party, his friend Kathy England was at his house with his family, sharing memories. In the days leading up to the party, Vince spoke to a lot of his friends, including me. For many, their last memory is of him laughing and joking, anticipating the fun that was to come but, sadly, didn’t.

But there are also memories of him in serious discussions of issues, such as merit selection of judges (he was for it) and consolidation of local services (also for it). I quoted him briefly in a recent column on consolidation of court services because he pointed out the hundreds of dollars in differences in tickets between the county and cities, saying it would be fairer to the public to consolidate municipal and justice courts.

His memorial book was filled with insightful tributes.

One individual wrote, “Vince was a prime example of why not to mistake kindness for weakness.”

One attorney wrote: “He was a fine lawyer and an even better human being.”

That’s praise indeed in a world where many are consumed by what they do at the expense of how they treat others. Or talk about others.

That’s what made Vince Consul different than the majority of us.

When he was alive, that was just the way he was. Now that he’s dead, his quality of kindness seems admirable and rare.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0275. She also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/morrison.