HHMR: A Retrospective — Chapter One (2001–2025)

There comes a point in every career when you stop long enough to look back, not out of nostalgia, but out of clarity.  You begin to see the arc, the accidents, the grace, and the moments when others carried more of the burden than you realized at the time.  For me, that moment came recently, somewhere between the twenty-fifth year of practicing construction litigation and the rewriting of our firm’s operating agreement.  I found myself asking a question I should have asked long ago: What are we building, and will it last?

The truth is that we at HHMR do not build anything.  Our clients do.  They are the ones building Colorado, from single-family homes and multifamily developments to commercial, industrial, and infrastructure projects, navigating every constraint, hurdle, and barrier this state presents to them.  They are the men and women in the arena, in Theodore Roosevelt’s sense.  They pour foundations, frame walls, manage subs, balance supply chains, and take the risks inherent in the act of building anything of value.  And for that work, they get sued.  My job, and the job of this firm, is to defend them.  We are their champions.

Understanding this truth is the starting point of HHMR 2.0. But to appreciate where we are going, you must first understand from where we came.

The Beginning: Right Place, Right Time, Right Mentor

I started working for Dave Higgins at Long & Jaudon in November 1998.  It was my first job as a lawyer, and I took to construction litigation the way a fish takes to water.  Higgins trusted me early.  He put me on trial teams, allowed me to work up cases, gave me opportunities about which most young lawyers only dream, and he let me find my footing by doing the work rather than by watching it.

When Long & Jaudon announced it was closing in September 2001, Higgins, who had been with the firm for 30 years, announced he would retire.  Perhaps a week later, he called me into his office and said he had changed his mind.  He was thinking of starting a new firm.  He would put up all of the capital, would take all of the financial risk, and did not want personal guarantees from anyone else.  His final condition was that he wanted to name me a partner in the new firm.  I was just three years into my career.

He told me that if I said no, he would not do it.  He would retire instead.  Steve Hopkins, who had been with L&J for 20 years, was in.  Sheri Roswell, who had been with L&J for ten years, was in.  Three generations of Long & Jaudon in alignment.  I was the last piece, and I did not fully understand what he was offering me until years later.

HHMR opened its doors on October 1, 2001.  From the outset, each of us filled a distinct role that reflected our strengths and set the tone for the firm.  Higgins served as trial counsel, the de facto visionary, and sage counsel.  Hopkins took on the role of managing partner while also managing litigation and trying cases.  Roswell focused on business development and client relationships, while also mentoring younger attorneys and helping manage litigation workflow.  I did what I knew how to do best at the time: I litigated.

Higgins believed in me before I had earned it.  That trust, combined with the complementary strengths of the founding group, is the foundation on which this firm was built.

The Accidental Entrepreneur

Here is something I do not often say publicly: I had no idea what I was doing.

I was a strong litigator and fortunate to earn Higgins’ trust early.  I could analyze a construction claim, work up a case, negotiate effectively, and try a case if and when necessary.  What I did not yet understand was how to run a business, manage people, or build systems.

When I drafted the original operating agreement in 2001, I borrowed a form from friends who had opened their own firm.   I did not understand the long-term implications of what I was promising, particularly with respect to partner retirements.  It would take years, and the retirement of the other founders, before those lessons became clear.

I was, in every meaningful sense, an accidental entrepreneur.

The Years of Sacrifice

Higgins and Hopkins retired in 2008.  At that point, Roswell and I spent a year serving as co-managing partners, doing our best to honor what we had built while keeping the firm moving ahead.  That year was clarifying for me.  I came to recognize, with some humility, that my strengths did not lie in management or day-to-day operations.  They lay in marketing, business development, setting the vision for the firm, managing litigation, and serving as trial counsel.

If I am being honest, and honesty is the point of a mission statement, I need to say this clearly: I did not always contribute in the ways the firm most needed at the time.

Roswell did.  She worked late, carried enormous unseen burdens, and held the firm together during times when I was burned out, disengaged, or approaching ownership with the mistaken belief that strong litigation skills alone were sufficient.  They are not.  Ownership is a different discipline entirely, and it took time and experience for me to understand that.

When Lisa Bondy Dunn joined the firm in 2015, she brought with her decades of experience, sound judgment, and a steadiness that would prove essential in the years that followed.

Looking back, it is easier to see how the firm endured because each of the founders leaned into different strengths at different times.  Hopkins provided steady judgment.  Higgins provided vision and trust.  Roswell provided the backbone.  She gave more of herself to this firm than I appreciated at the time, and the firm is here today in large part because of her.

A Firm at an Inflection Point

For all the good things about those early years, the firm was not structurally built for generational continuity.  The model reflected from where we had come, not where the firm needed to go next.  Like many first-generation firms, we had built something strong and successful, but not yet something designed for self-renewal.

This is not a criticism.  It is simply an honest acknowledgment that the firm had reached an inflection point.  If HHMR was going to endure, it needed to evolve.

The Turning Point

Over time, it became clear that the next chapter of the firm required intention.  Like many small law firms, we were very good at being lawyers, but not especially good at operating a business.  We survived not because of outstanding business acumen, but because we were excellent litigators, deeply knowledgeable in our niche, and fortunate to have strong client and carrier relationships.

That was not enough for the future.  If HHMR was going to endure, we needed to become an outstanding entrepreneurial business that happened to provide legal services.  In 2019, we began working with a business coach.  That step made us better.  It brought clarity and improvement, but we were not yet ready to fully commit.

The true transformation did not occur until January 2023, when we made the decision to run the firm on the Entrepreneurial Operating System (EOS), purely and without qualification.  While we have a long way to go, that commitment fundamentally changed how we operate and how we think about the business.  Today, we are far better positioned to face the future undaunted.

In 2024, Roswell made the decision to step into an of-counsel role and relinquish her ownership interest in the firm.  By then, Dunn had become an indispensable part of the firm, someone I trusted deeply and who shared my commitment to building something that would endure beyond any one generation.  This transition was handled with care and gratitude, and it created an opportunity to do something important: to rewrite the firm’s operating agreement in a way that reflected the future, not the past.

That process forced us to confront hard questions about ownership, succession, and stewardship.  The result was not just a revised document, but a recommitment to what HHMR should be and for whom it should be built.

This was the birth of HHMR 2.0.

What Ownership Means Now

We rebuilt the firm to reflect a simple principle:  The rewards of hard work should be enjoyed by those doing the work now, not by those who have retired.

Traditional small firm buyouts can crush the next generation.  They can create resentment, financial strain, and in many cases, they cause firms to collapse when younger partners decline to shoulder the burden.

We refused to perpetuate that model so we created something different:

• A buy-in that is accessible,
• A buy-out that is modest and capped,
• And a structure that ensures no attorney will ever subsidize the retirement of someone else.

We also created something that almost no small or midsize firm in Colorado offers: a transparent, written, visible path to partnership.  You can see it before you join.  You can evaluate it against your ambitions and decide if this is the place where you want to build your career.

HHMR 2.0 was reenvisioned for the attorneys who are building the firm now, for those who will join us in the years ahead, and for those that will carry the firm’s legacy into the future.

For the right lawyer, this is not just a place to work, but a place to build a long-term career.

Who We Are Now

HHMR 2.0 is not simply a law firm.  It is a mission.

We defend those in the arena.  We champion the builders, developers, and construction professionals who risk everything to build Colorado in all its forms.  We serve insurers who trust us to represent their insureds with excellence, integrity, and pragmatism.

We resolve cases as early as possible, at the lowest total cost.  We punch above our weight.  We are hyperspecialized—an inch wide, and a mile deep.

Above all, we are defined by our core values:

          Team Player
          Excellence in Skills
          Passion and Pride
          Strong Work Ethic
          Confidence

These values determine who thrives within the firm.  They determine who becomes an owner of the firm.  They define what HHMR will be long after I am gone.

A Vision for the Next Generation

HHMR is now structurally, culturally, and philosophically built to become a second-generation firm.  A sustainable firm.  A legacy firm.  A firm with enough humility to recognize that we do not build Colorado, but enough conviction to defend those who do.

Our systems, our ownership structure, our path to partnership, and our values all point in the same direction: continuity, longevity, and legacy.

Not everyone will resonate with this mission.  That is okay.  We are not for everyone.

But for those who read this and resonate with the message and mission, for those who want to practice law with meaning, with mastery, with integrity, and alongside a team that believes excellence and humanity are not mutually exclusive, this may feel like home.

Closing: The Firm That Endures

Higgins started this firm with extraordinary trust and generosity.  Hopkins brought experience and steadiness.  Roswell gave more of herself than I appreciated at the time, ensuring the firm’s stability through years of growth and strain.  Dunn helped us reimagine what HHMR could become and stood with me in building a foundation for the next generation.

We do not build buildings.  We defend the people who do.  We stand with the men and women in the arena who take the risks necessary to build Colorado’s homes, workplaces, infrastructure, and communities, and we do so with skill, conviction, and respect.

HHMR 2.0 is built to endure.  Built to grow.  Built to be passed forward.  Built to serve our clients, our team, and this industry long after any one of us is gone.

This is our mission.  This is our firm.  And this is the future we are building together.