‘He left the profession better’: Longtime Fort Worth defense attorney Tim Evans dies at 80
Tim Evans, a high profile criminal defense lawyer, died Dec. 23 at the Ridglea Senior living community in Fort Worth. He was 80.
Evans made a career of defending everyone from a Tarrant County judge to a member of Waco’s Branch Davidians, however, friends remembered him for his strong work ethic and his crusade to improve the legal profession.
He was born Nov. 26, 1943, in Fort Worth. His family traces its roots back six generations to the founding of Tarrant County.
He got his law degree from Texas Tech in 1969 before returning to Fort Worth in 1970 to work in the Tarrant County District Attorney’s Office.
That experience in the district attorney’s office helped Evans develop his passion for maintaining the balance of power between the rights of individual citizens and governmental authority.
“I see how easy it can get out of whack, and the general public doesn’t pay attention to this until it’s too late,” he said in a 2013 interview with the Texas Criminal Defense Lawyers Association.
Evans was a legend in Texas legal circles, said Mark Daniel, a Fort Worth attorney and longtime friend.
“You have really good lawyers, you have great lawyers, and above that you have Tim Evans,” Daniel said.
In the late 1980s and early ‘90s, Evans won 11 acquittals in a row on some of the most complex state and federal trials — a Herculean feat according to Daniel.
“If I ever met a lawyer that’s even run off five, I’d kiss his shoelaces, I promise you. It just doesn’t happen. It’s unheard of,” he said.
While he was competitive, winning was not Evans’ sole motivation, said his son Lance Evans, in an email to the Star-Telegram.
“It was helping people who were going through some of the worst times of their lives. Dad could not stand for someone to suffer an injustice and would fight like hell for them,” he said.
Evans was a soft spoken man who never boasted about his accomplishments, said District Judge George Gallagher, who had known Evans since 1982.
He had a charisma about him that allowed him to make friends and earn the respect of lawyers and judges throughout across the country, he said.
Gallagher recounted a story about the time Evans faced a stern judge who limited closing arguments to 10 minutes.
Evans told the jury he was going to talk fast due to the time limit, saying: “So if I’m arguing too fast, don’t blame me. Blame the judge,” Gallagher said.
Any other lawyer would have been held in contempt of court for making that kind of remark, but the way Evans made his arguments allowed him to get away with it, Gallagher said.
Evans took pains to eschew the defense lawyer stereotype of wearing an expensive suit and driving a fancy car. A 1988 Star-Telegram profile pointed out that Evans always drove his 1977 yellow and white Chevy Blazer to trials, so as not to make a negative impression on a jury.
Evans’ example taught others that hard work and painstaking preparation were the keys to success, according to Daniel.
Working in a time before the internet, Evans had to comb through thousands of pages of documents for his cases, but was always prepared, and always knew the case material inside and out, Daniel said.
Judges could always relax when Evans walked into a courtroom, said U.S. District Court Judge Terry Means, who presided over several federal cases involving Evans.
Evans developed a reputation for being trustworthy making it easier for judges to when evaluating his plea agreements, Means said.
He knew when to negotiate a plea, but if he felt he had a good case he’d fight like hell for his clients, Means said.
One of Evans’ biggest legacies will be the trial college at Sam Houston University named in his honor. The one-week seminar course runs young lawyers through a series of training exercises to help them improve their skills in a courtroom.
Evans ran the program for 32 years always expecting excellence from not only the students, but the faculty as well.
“You didn’t get invited (to be faculty) because you bought somebody a beer. You got invited because you were a consummate lawyer,” Daniel said. He estimated 2,000 lawyers got some kind of training through the program during Evans’ tenure.
He would take time with the young lawyers who came through the college to get to know them and offer them help with their careers. He wanted them to know who he was and that he was available to help, Daniel said.
Evans was inducted into the Texas Criminal Defense Lawyers Association Hall of Fame in 2007 and received the Tarrant County Bar Association’s highest honor, the Blackstone Award, in 2012.
His real accomplishment was leaving the profession better than when he got there, Daniel said.
Before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2013, Evans wanted to lead a crusade to reform lawyer advertising.
He thought it was deceptive, and he wanted to get the state bar more involved in screening ads, Daniel said, adding, “If he hadn’t gotten sick, he’d have done it.”
Evans is survived by his wife of 49 years, Rita; sons Lance, 60, and Chad, 56, and his granddaughters Sarah, 29, and Grace, 25.
His funeral will be held at Broadway Baptist Church, 305 W Broadway Ave, on Saturday Jan. 6th at 1 pm. Visitation will take place the day before from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. at Greenwood Funeral Home.
In lieu of flowers, the family has asked for donations to be made to the Tim Evans Endowed Scholarship at Texas Tech School of Law. Donations can be made online or by sending a written check to the Texas Tech Law School’s foundation office at 3311 18th St in Lubbock, Texas.
This story was originally published December 28, 2023 at 3:41 PM.
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