Lisa Courtney James Dixon

Lisa is survived by her partner, Hayden J. Silver, III (“Jay”); her sons Wright Tracy Dixon, IV (“T”) and James Stevens Dixon; Jay’s daughters Taylor Silver Fitzgerald (Grant) and baby Juliet, and Hannah Silver Ly (Eric); her brother Randolph M. James (Sue) and niece Elizabeth Cagle James; and her sister Cindy James Penny (Lewis), niece Ashley Fox (Joe), and nephew Brandon Penny (Shana).

Lisa grew up in Raleigh and graduated from Sanderson High School. Her father was a lawyer and made clear his intent, the day she was born, that Lisa would become a lawyer. As the youngest child, her brother and sister sometimes thought Lisa perhaps slightly spoiled. That remains a matter of debate. What is certain is Lisa had a strong and special relationship with both Randy and Cindy, which deepened as Lisa’s health challenges increased. Cindy cooked dozens of meals, visited often, sent texts day and night, and sat with Lisa through some of her hardest days. Lisa knew, always, that her brother and sister loved her beyond measure.

Lisa graduated from North Carolina State University, magna cum laude, with a B.A. in Political Science, and received her law degree from the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Out of law school she immediately joined Moore & Van Allen, working first in MVA’s Durham and then its Raleigh office. In 2003 she joined Kilpatrick Stockton’s Raleigh office, and in 2012 moved her practice to Womble Carlyle (now Womble Bond Dickinson). She fully embraced the work ethic required of an associate, working long hours, sometimes leaving the office to play a tennis match and then to return that night and work past midnight. During her 34 years as an attorney Lisa built a successful corporate practice recognized in The Best Lawyers in America and North Carolina Legal Elite representing regionally and nationally prominent companies. Lisa counseled clients with directness, an economy with words, and appreciation for the issues key to every transaction. Clients often wanted Lisa to lead their deal team not only because of her skill and judgment, but because she was more interesting to work with. She relished pitching new clients with her partners and leading a team that met both her and her clients’ expectations. Perhaps most importantly, Lisa’s office was a safe place where colleagues would talk through their personal or professional challenges, appreciating her wit and compassion. She could have easily transitioned from being a lawyer to being a life coach.

Lisa lived life passionately, confident in her intelligence, beauty and compelling charm. She entered every room, stylishly dressed whatever the setting, determined to liven things up. Conversation with Lisa was direct, funny, personal and often profane. She brought a bracing clarity and energy to every conversation that left you wanting more time and more talk with her. She could persuade complete strangers to disclose the most intimate personal details of their life, share stories, and solve problems, making a new personal best friend. She held everyone’s attention in the Board room or at any client meeting, at a black jack table in Vegas, or with medical staff in the clinic or from her hospital bed.

She fiercely loved her boys, T and James, and later in her life Jay’s daughters, Taylor and Hannah, to whom she was a friend and confidant. In raising the boys, and despite her demanding career, she showed up at every soccer or tennis match, every parent teacher conference, every school production or art show. She did not believe in being a helicopter parent. She drove the boys to school every morning, asking about their day, classes, tests, and friends. The car was never quiet. Family trips, whether to the beach, the Caribbean, New York, Maine, the West Coast or any other destination, were adventures – always festive, fun and treasured. She taught the boys to say what they want, to have likes and dislikes, to embrace an opinion and defend it. She was a skilled questioner, and could discern any shading of the truth, any attempt to edit out part of the day, in a way that they both feared and admired. Dinners were lively. She might ask them to name their favorite superpower or Marvel character. Or she would ask everyone to rank the meal on a scale of one to ten – whether it was a filet or pigs in a blanket. Or she would invite them to take a trip to “safety island,” a magical place where they could confess something without incurring any parental penalty; but of course, that not only energized the dinner conversation, it gave her information she would quietly use another day. Most of all she tried to convey how much being truthful – to themselves, to others, and most importantly to her – mattered. She hated any indirectness or omission of the truth.

Lisa played every game to win, especially tennis, which she played competitively and with family for many years. Weekends included family tennis lessons and matches. She would not hesitate to trash talk the entire game. On the days she dominated play she was known to triumphantly and shamelessly skip across the court at changeovers, delighted to be a winner. The same spirit infused every family game of Monopoly, cards, ping pong, or basketball – a melee of shouts, laughter, indignant protests, and insults. Her Morkies, Waffles and Coco, joined in.

For the past 12 years of her life Jay and Lisa lived an extraordinary life together, finding a connection that never lost its intensity or depth. They loved and cared for each other in ways that surprised old friends and yet were immediately tangible to anyone seeing them together. Two type A, driven, successful lawyers found themselves wanting 24/7 time and talk with one another, wherever they might be. Lisa died hoping only that the future would allow her another day with Jay and her family.

Lisa’s struggle with breast cancer started decades ago. Her Stage 4 diagnosis in 2014 slowed her only slightly. Over the past seven years she held to this life as long as she was able, with courage and extraordinary resolve, until this awful disease simply became too much.

We thank Dr. Mark L. Graham, Lisa’s doctor over three decades, for his skill, support and enduring friendship. Lisa’s oncology nurses and the Waverly scribes each became friends, cheerleaders and companions during her illness.

We all will miss Lisa, and cannot quite imagine a world without her in it.

A memorial service will take place on Saturday, February 5, at 11:00 a.m. at Hayes Barton United Methodist Church, Raleigh, followed by a reception at Lisa and Jay’s home.

In lieu of flowers, donations in Lisa’s memory can be made to the Kay Yow Cancer Fund, 4804 Page Creek Lane, Suite 118 Durham, NC 27703.

Services provided by Brown-Wynne, 300 St. Mary's Street, Raleigh.