Before she helped change the course of Minnesota law, before she was recognized as a "pioneer" and "just short of brilliant," Faith Ohman was rejected after 21 job interviews.

On her 22nd, she was hired at Dorsey (then known as Dorsey, Marquart, Windhorst, West and Halladay), a major Twin Cities law firm that in 1967 was made up of 76 attorneys — all men.

She was instantly an outlier, but she soon won over her colleagues with her intelligence, wit and soft-spoken ways.

"She was so smart, so imaginative, such a creative person," said Bob Struyk, who worked with Ohman and was at Dorsey when she arrived. "It didn't take long until the whole gender issue was irrelevant."

Five years later, Ohman — who died in Falcon Heights on April 8 at age 74 — made partner, the first female to do so at a major Twin Cities firm.

As an undergraduate, Ohman attended Macalester College, where she and her debate partner became the first female team to reach the national finals.

"She was a trailblazer there, too," said David Ranheim, who was on the debate team with her and, like Ohman, was hired at Dorsey. "She was a star."

In law school at the University of Minnesota, she finished high in her class.

Finding a job, however, proved more difficult.

When Ohman finally was hired, she had to maneuver through some old-school practices. She was automatically placed in the trusts and estates department — it was the only area of law open to women at the time.

Early on, at the annual attorneys dinners, Ohman would have to enter the Minneapolis Club through the rear door because women weren't allowed through the front.

"Can you imagine?" said her sister, Joanne Carlson. "But she kind of just laughed that off. It wasn't 'Woe is me.' It was just 'Isn't this stupid?' "

At the law firm, the Philadelphia native gained respect for taking on major clients, finding creative solutions to problems and helping integrate other women into the workplace.

Struyk, who worked closely with her on many projects before going on to become one of Dorsey's chief executives, called her "just short of brilliant."

A tall woman, she wore pantsuits "long before that became popular," according to protégé Kate Bartlett, and spoke very softly.

"Her technique was very interesting," Barlett said. "In a drafting session, everyone would have to lean in to hear her. That was her way and her way worked very well — not trying to talk over everyone at the table."

Ohman never married or had children, but she was a beloved aunt to two nieces and one nephew. She also was active in women's groups around the state and was known for being generous with her time, acting as a mentor and teacher to many young attorneys.

By the late 1970s, 10 percent of Dorsey's attorneys were women. When Ohman left in 1989 to pursue a solo practice, that percentage was much higher.

It's something she never would have bragged about, but after she died, Dorsey managing partner Ken Cutler sent a companywide e-mail calling Ohman a "pioneer" and crediting her with helping to transform the firm — if only by living out her own dream.

"It wasn't a cause for her necessarily," Struyk said. "She just came in, was a hell of a lawyer and did some incredible work."

Services have been held.

Amelia Rayno • 612-673-4115