As Christmas rolls around this week, I keep thinking about a different kind of “Christmas” I had back in 2016—in Hawaii.

At the time, I was living in Alaska and was representing my first child client. She was five. No one in the military really knew what representing what a child meant, but I knew one thing: before you can talk about hard things, a child has to see you as a real, normal, non-scary human.

My first visit happened to land on “Christmas in August.” I was invited to church, where they had an ice machine blowing fake snow. In Hawaii. In August. The snow cone was excellent—and more importantly, the moment helped make the hard conversations a little easier. But I digress…

I returned to Hawaii later for another part of the case and upgraded my rental car to a convertible Camaro (relax ethics lawyers - I personally paid the difference). Since I was in HAWAII and had a few hours, I decided to drive to Bellows Beach, an Air Force rec area. The sun was blinding, and being very short meant I couldn’t QUITE see over the hood.

At a stoplight, I slammed into a boat.

Not just any boat—a handmade family boat with a brand-new motor the owner had just installed. Miraculously, the boat wasn’t damaged, and the owner didn’t yell, threaten, or lose his mind. I turned around (no beach for Ruth), drove the still-drivable Camaro back to the hotel, reported the incident, had a good cry, and called it a day.

The next day, after finishing client work, I decided to give Bellows Beach another shot before my red-eye home. I walked into the grill. Only two people were there—a couple. We said hello, and I noticed immediately: they sounded just like me. Southern.

Turns out:
• They were from North Carolina.
• They lived in Alaska—about 30 minutes from me.
• The wife had served in the North Carolina National Guard.

When she learned what I did in the military, she shared—tearfully—that she had been sexually harassed by an officer. I had mentored another victim from my former unit—the first to report him. Ultimately, eight women came forward.
After an Article 32 hearing, he was allowed to resign. She, meanwhile, was medically discharged and left carrying deep, unrecognized trauma. The medical system failed to fully acknowledge the harm. She wasn’t heard.

After we both returned to Alaska (separately—on planes, not Camaros), she became my client. I helped her go before the Board of Corrections. This time, her injuries were recognized, her story was acknowledged, and the record was corrected.

Ruth's Truth: If I hadn’t wrecked that car the day before, I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have met them. I wouldn’t have been in the right place at exactly the right time. That’s the gift — a gift given, a gift received. And to me, that’s what this season is really about. Merry Christmas.