Uncommon Counselor
A chat with Ron Acho
By Sarah Kittle
“I help get justice.” That’s how Ron Acho, partner at Cummings, McClorey, Davis & Acho, P.L.C. describes his job. It wasn’t a straight career path for the counselor; he says he got into law by happenstance.
Born in Baghdad in 1945, Ron came to the Unites States with his family in 1949. His father, who was discriminated against because of his faith, only had a fifth-grade education and was subject to menial jobs in Iraq. Like most refugees, he dreamed of a better life for his children. “It was very difficult,” said Ron. “We didn’t have much. I remember at one point wearing my sister’s dress and shoes. They were red shoes.”
After waiting 14 years for his visa, Ron’s dad came to Detroit and worked with his older brother Joe Acho in his store. According to Ron, they were very poor when they came here and were embraced by the immigrant community. His dad was able to save enough to buy his own store in 1951.
Four years later, Ron was working there regularly. He grew up in the store, learning from his father and eventually running the store himself. It was doing well, and the family was prospering — until July 1967, when two men with torches burned down the store to the ground. With no insurance, the family lost everything. Ron says, “We went from poor to somewhat prosperous back to poor again.”
It’s important to him that people understand the Detroit uprising of 1967 was not about race. “Our customers were Black,” says Ron, “but it was not our customers who burned the store.”
He wanted to own his own chain of grocery stores, to be the president of A&P. “I loved the grocery business,” says Ron. “I still do.” Many of his clients are in the business; that’s how he stays involved.
With no store to operate, Ron got a job at Ford. When he was threatened with a layoff, he found out he needed a degree to have protection, so he applied to college. “I asked myself, ‘What is a secure occupation?’” Ron recalls. “I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor or a scientist.”
He was hired in the parts control department, and after 11 years of night school, he earned his law degree. The only problem was, there was nowhere at Ford Motor Company to use his degree.
He was told by someone in human resources, “We would never hire anyone like you,” meaning someone who went to night school at a lesser college. Ford Motor Company lawyers were from Harvard and Yale, and occasionally U of M, but never Detroit College of Law.
It didn’t matter that at Ford, Ron had won 6 promotions in 8 years and won 3 awards. He also graduated summa cum laude as an undergraduate and won an award in law school. He had to find his own way.
This made Ron even more determined. He swore to himself that no matter how successful he became, he would never treat anyone like that. To this day, he reads every single resume personally and offers advice and encouragement to applicants, regardless of how qualified they are to work at the firm.
“The Firm” is Cummings, McClorey, Davis & Acho. When Ron was first introduced 50 years ago, they were a two-person team, but they quickly became three with the addition of Davis. Ron worked there at night and built up his clientele, who at first, were mostly Chaldean. Within a year and a half, Ron was a partner/owner. That was 1976.
He has never worked for another firm. Since then, he has handled over 8,000 cases, tried over 200 and lost 8, 4 of which were begun by a different law firm. He’s been offered 3 judgeships, including a federal appointment, and was asked to be a special prosecutor for Iraqi war criminals. But for Ron, the real thrill is helping people.
Clients are like family. “Lawyers don’t win cases, clients do.” He believes that if a person has a good case, they should win.
One of his most memorable cases was a client who had been trying in vain to get disability, despite having a claw for a hand. Ron asked the questions and agreed to help, not holding out much hope for a decision in his client’s favor. The client was Black, and the judge, an old white Southern man. “Racism still exists today,” says Ron, “but not like it did back then.”
When the judge not only had a claw for a hand himself but received his injury the same way (fighting in a war), with the same outfit (82nd Airborne) and on the same day (Battle of the Bulge), Ron saw God’s hand in the outcome, which was in favor of his client. “That felt good,” remembers Ron.
Ron never felt discriminated against. “I was lucky,” he recalls. He was treated well because of the reputation of his law firm. They were known to be honest and honorable. “I was treated better than most lawyers, I think,” he says with a laugh.
And he never even considered leaving his firm. “I didn’t want to work for anyone else,” he says, “Chaldeans don’t like to work for anyone else.”
Ron, who also participates in a free legal clinic, has noticed some changes in the field of law over the years. One very noticeable change is the number of lawyers. “There’s been a 300% percent increase in the profession,” says Ron, “and it’s more like 1,000% in the Chaldean community.”
He figures he was the fourth or fifth to pursue a law career in the southeastern Michigan Chaldean community, and he believes there are more than 400 Chaldean lawyers today. But he doesn’t see many growth opportunities in the field now. Early Chaldean lawyers may have been trained to support and defend the family business, but he feels the romanticism has faded. The impassioned arguments you see in court on TV are deceptive. “It isn’t like that,” Ron states emphatically. Most lawyers are spending their time filing, writing, and researching.
As far as Chaldean judges go, Ron’s hypothesis is that perhaps women excel at this position because they are empathetic, but they are not any different from their male counterparts. They have the opportunity now, and they didn’t before. “I tell my 3 granddaughters that they have opportunities that their mothers didn’t,” says Ron.
His greatest accomplishment? “Marrying Rita,” Ron responds with no hesitation. And the funny thing is, if the store hadn’t burned down, he would have never attended college and would not have met her in line at University of Detroit or had the chance to make an impression. “I was never lacking for courage,” he says.
Now they have 3 children and 4 grandchildren. Their son Jim is a lawyer with the firm, daughter Stephanie runs The Detroit Chocolate Company, and son Greg is in PR and marketing. Ron’s children and grandchildren are his treasure. “A man’s wealth is his grandchildren,” says Ron.
Ron’s legacy, his humility and his faith, are built on the foundation that his father prepared for him. While working the store, Ron’s dad would hold up a banana every day and tell him, “In the old country, only the rich could eat bananas.” “Yes, Baba,” Ron would reply.
“Do you know why I’m telling you this?” his father would continue. “You have an opportunity. You can do whatever you want.”
“Every time I see a banana,” says Ron, “I think of my father and that story.”