The fire in Port Wentworth's sugar refinery left molten sugar burning at more than 4,000 degrees. The greed of at least one Texas lawyer burns even hotter. The full-page ad he placed in the Savannah newspaper asking to be hired by the victims or their families claims "We can help" and points out that the Imperial Sugar Co. had sales of $875 million last year. Hint, hint.

The First Amendment permits lawyer advertising, if it is not misleading, no matter how tasteless. Almost all lawyers and judges would agree that this blatant effort to profit from tragedy is highly unprofessional.

(ENLARGE)

Richardson R. Lynn is the dean of Atlanta's John Marshall Law School.

And it is not new. The most recent commercial airline accident in the United States, the Comair crash in Lexington, Ky., was promptly followed by advertisements in the local paper by three law firms seeking to represent the families of victims.

Frank Galvin, Paul Newman's character in "The Verdict," hit bottom both as a lawyer and a human being when he attended funerals pretending to be a friend of the deceased, then slipped his business card to the grieving widow.

The First Amendment permits some direct solicitation of clients and lawyer advertising, but not all. Federal law prohibits lawyers from initiating contact with potential clients sooner than 45 days after a plane crash. In 1995, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a Florida Bar rule prohibiting direct solicitation within 30 days of an accident or disaster. The lawyer's newspaper advertisement in Savannah is not considered direct solicitation because he is not contacting potential clients individually, but it causes the same feelings of revulsion that led to those bans.

When he learned of the Savannah ad, Rep. Wendall Willard (R-Sandy Springs), the chairman of the Georgia House Judiciary Committee, said, "I say to you as a lawyer — I think I can speak for all the attorneys not only in this chamber, in the General Assembly and the vast majority of lawyers in the state of Georgia — these type things need to be condemned." Georgia Supreme Court Chief Justice Leah Ward Sears warned, "There are strict rules about lawyer solicitation. Any lawyer that might be doing that, they need to be careful."

Thirty years ago, it was edgy to put a law firm's name in bold print in the white pages. Today, many lawyers believe that the growth of lawyer advertising has been a generally positive development, increasing access to justice and marginally educating the public about the law. Flipping through today's phone book, much lawyer advertising seems ineffective or tacky, but so does most used car advertising. However, lawyers, like used car dealers, pay for the ads because they work.

The Savannah ad says that the "Imperial Sugar Company [has] attorneys to protect them. Shouldn't you?" Corporate wrongdoers and their insurance companies can take advantage of victims and families by offering much-needed instant cash in exchange for a release from much greater liability. To offset that threat, bar associations frequently respond to disasters by establishing 1-800 phone lines or walk-in offices manned by volunteers offering free legal advice to preserve people's rights. Immediately after 9/11 and Katrina, lawyers donated countless hours to several well-publicized services that helped people obtain governmental assistance, negotiate with insurance companies and take the first steps to recovery.

The Texas lawyer trying to drum up business in Savannah isn't even planning to represent the victims himself. The ad states, "Cases will likely be referred." He plans to refer the case to good trial lawyers in Georgia who will do the real work, while he collects a piece of the action as a referral fee. This is beyond chutzpah.

Remember John Mark Karr, who falsely confessed to killing JonBenet Ramsey? While he has retreated to well-deserved obscurity, the three dozen lawyers who sought to represent him also represent a continuing problem. Each was eager to be his lawyer, perhaps for no fee at all, because of the enormous value of a high-profile case to boost their practice. Lawyers who profit from books or movie deals about infamous clients have an obvious conflict of interest. You can't sell a movie-of-the-week about a quiet plea-bargain. The plea-bargain won't make them famous, but a lengthy, sensational trial might.

Remember the O.J. Simpson case? Almost every lawyer with more than 10 minutes in that case wrote a book, launched a TV career, etc. (The exception was Judge Lance Ito, who passed up millions of dollars because he thought it was wrong to profit from his work as a judge.)

Remember Atticus Finch, the lawyer in "To Kill a Mockingbird"? He didn't advertise or hustle clients.

The multiple ethics codes and statutes that govern lawyer conduct are complex, but here's a simple test: What would Atticus Finch — not Frank Galvin — do?