Tops in Stove Tip-Over Litigation
Dan Sciano’s Niche Landed Him a Nationwide Reputation
by Nathan Koppel, for Texas Lawyer
SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS, September 13, 1999 --
In 1994, Timothy E. McKenna, a Houston solo practitioner, got two calls, a month apart, from
prospective clients who claimed to have been
injured by stoves that had tipped over and
fallen on them. At the time, McKenna didn’t even
know a stove could tip over.
To get up to speed, he says, he searched
electronic databases where fellow members of
plaintiffs lawyer trade groups exchange
information about cases.
Not surprisingly, Dan Sciano’s name popped
up. The 44-year-old San Antonio plaintiffs
lawyer is one of the nation’s foremost experts
on stove tip-over litigation.
"He is the Kojak of stove lawyers," says
McKenna, who was so impressed by the stockpile
of evidence Sciano had uncovered about stoves,
and the propensity of some to tip, that he
signed his cases over to Sciano.
Sciano’s steady climb to niche stardom began
in 1986 when his boss, Franklin D. Houser, came
to the young lawyer five years out of law school
with a case involving a young girl, Jennifer
Villareal, who had been badly burned by a
falling stove.
Like McKenna, Sciano started by networking.
What he found was an atomized plaintiffs bar
— a smattering of lawyers across the country
with limited experience.
"I learned there was not a lot of data about
stove tip-overs," he says.
To prove that the stove that injured
Villareal was defectively designed, Sciano would
have to establish that there was a
technologically and economically feasible
alternative design. And to secure punitive
damages, he would also need to show that the
manufacturer knew about and chose not to
implement the alternative design.
That would take engineering evidence and
smoking gun memoranda, and, of course, money.
Houser, a partner in Tinsman & Houser where
Sciano is now a partner, was prepared for the
sizeable expense of mounting such an offensive.
His firm had blazed a trail in products
liability litigation involving defective fuel
tanks in the mid-1970s and flammable fabrics in
the early 1980s.
"The stock-in-trade of a plaintiffs practice
is . . . money for major pieces of litigation," he says.
Better than lucre, though, Houser has Sciano.
Says Houser: "He has a nose for facts. He is
dogged and he never gives up."
In the Villareal case, which was settled for
a confidential amount, Sciano started the
arduous process of gathering information about
stoves.
"The early stages of the litigation meant
going to Underwriter’s Laboratory [a facility
that tests products for hazards] and looking
through hundreds of thousands of documents for
the four to five that showed knowledge of the
problem," Sciano says.
It also meant coaxing lawyers who had handled
stove cases to pull their old files out of
storage, mining electronic databases for damning
information and, perhaps most importantly,
deposing experts wherever they could be found.
To find former industry stove engineers who
were willing to talk, Sciano was not above some
amateur sleuthing.
He recounts one instance where he asked a
manufacturer for the name of the engineer in
charge of designing a particular stove and was
told the engineer had died.
Not satisfied, Sciano searched a phone book
and found the guy listed, so he called him.
It turned out it was his son, who told Sciano
his father was living in a small town in Michigan.
Sciano tracked him down and found out that he
was a member of a group of retired engineers
from a plant that made stoves.
This sort of leg work was costly — Sciano
says he spent at least $100,000-per-case to
develop his early cases — but it paid off.
In his early stove cases, for example, Sciano
says he acquired documents from stove
manufacturers showing that they had known about
tipping for years, which the manufacturers have
since lost or destroyed.
McKenna marvels at this trove of near-extinct
documents, but he is especially impressed by
Sciano’s depositions of retired engineers.
"He has depositions of industry engineers who
have long since died. These are like a phoenix
rising from the ashes which [Sciano] can use as
testimony in these cases," says McKenna.
"Once Dan comes on board," he adds,
"defendants are more likely to come to the table
because he knows where their skeletons are
hidden and which witnesses will say what even if
they are dead."
Spreading the Gospel
With nearly 15 years of stove litigation and
40-plus cases under his belt, Sciano is a
walking encyclopedia on stoves.
He can easily tick off a history of the
range, from its early days as a cast iron,
securely moored behemoth to its modern, lighter
incarnation.
Of greatest concern to Sciano is that some of
today’s stoves come with larger doors, and if
too much pressure is applied to an opened door,
he says, a stove can tip.
The Association of Home Appliance
Manufacturers agrees. Its Web site posts a
notice warning that some ranges can tilt when
someone applies too much pressure to an open
door.
The industry has taken precautions, he notes.
Since 1988, most stoves come with anti-tip
devices and warnings about the dangers of
tipping.
Sciano likes to spread the gospel of the
anti-tip device. If he sees a family at a store
ogling a stove or, say, if he sits next to a kid
on an airplane, he explains, he will instruct
them on the importance of anti-tip devices.
Stoves are a big part of Sciano’s life, but
not the only part. In fact, stove litigation
makes up only 10 percent of his practice, which
consists mainly of high-end personal-injury
matters, he says.
Still, he points out, "it is nice people know
that I have a specialty in a confined area of
practice and that people know they can come to
me for information."
And come they do, from near and far.
In 1995, looking for help on a stove case,
Blake Beckham, of Dallas’ Beckham & Thomas, took
a circuitous path to Sciano. It started, he
says, with a query posted to a legal Internet
site. This led Beckham to a law student in
Tennessee, the student’s professor, a Rhode
Island attorney and finally to a Rhode Island
stove expert who declared, emphatically, "The
only guy in the country to talk to about this is
Dan Sciano."
Beckham, who has hired Sciano to assist in
two stove cases, agrees.
"The first time [my partner and I] talked to
Dan, he talked to us for at least
one-and-one-half hours," he says. "We got off
the phone and said, we’re idiots if we don’t
hire this guy. It would have taken us years to
get up to speed."
Copyright 1999, Texas Lawyer. All rights reserved.
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