The verdict -- Judge Robert Gardner

It was her legs. I happened to walk by and practically did a double

take. “Dig those crazy gams,” I thought, or the 1941 version of that.

The rest of the package was just as great, so I managed to get myself

introduced and found out that her name was Katy Harris and she worked at

Douglas Aircraft Co.

Lucky me! One of my best friends, Charlie Oxarart, worked at Douglas,

and I decided to visit him at work the next day.

As I was being escorted to his office, we passed through a huge room

full of rows of women typing. Each desk was lined up precisely behind the

desk in front and parallel with the desk in the next row--except for one.

This lone desk was turned in the opposite direction so that the typist

faced the wall.

Noticing my perplexed look, my escort explained: “That’s Katy Harris,

and if we turn her desk around, everyone stops to talk to her and nothing

gets done. This is the only way we can keep productivity up.”

Katy’s popularity was not limited to her fellow workers at Douglas. I

managed to get a date with her, but I had to wait two weeks for her first

free night and another two weeks for the second date.

In spite of all the competition, I somehow persuaded her of my good

qualities and we were married Feb. 14, 1942. For most of the world, this

would have simplified married life -- Valentine’s Day and anniversary.

Somehow, I never could keep track. Every year, Feb. 14 took me by

surprise. Eventually Katy wore a charm inscribed “February 23?”

We spent a lot of time at the beach in our early years, but then Katy

discovered golf -- and I learned that she was a much better athlete than

me. Not only did she outscore me on the course, she out-drove me. “Bob,

you’re away,” was the usual comment.

Katy had strong roots here, friends she’d had since our marriage and

even before, but when I decided I wanted to go to American Samoa as the

presiding justice of the high court, she didn’t hesitate, and within

minutes of our arrival she was as popular with the Samoans as she was

every place else.

The Samoan women promptly recruited her for their bowling league, and

soon she was outscoring me on the alleys as well.

Unfortunately, age is not very kind. In the last few years, Katy

suffered a number of physical blows -- diabetes, Parkinson’s disease and

impaired lungs from a lifetime of smoking. She took each blow without

complaint.

I can be very stoic after telling everyone in great detail just how

much I’m suffering. She was a true stoic. If she admitted pain, you knew

it was excruciating.

Age doesn’t seem to improve the disposition very much either. For the

first time, we began to argue over the dumbest things. The other day,

Katy got up and got dressed to go shopping. She went into the bathroom to

comb her hair, and within seconds she was gone. It was a good death. She

had a horror of being bedridden or hospitalized, and this was exactly

what she would have wished.

I regret all those silly quarrels we had, but I don’t regret a single

day she was my wife.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge. His

column runs Tuesdays.