The Verdict -- Robert Gardner

My sister Marion was a character. Born into a dour Scots Presbyterian

environment, she promptly violated each and every one of its strict

rules.

First, she married four times, which, while not a world record, was

certainly a record for my family, which, until Marion came along, had

never had such a shocking departure from strict conformity as even one

divorce. Then she had a long friendship with a gentleman in Hollywood

that was never even regularized by marriage.

Then she got herself into some kind of scrape smuggling diamonds

either into or out of the Netherlands. My father, a day laborer on the

railroad, somehow scraped together the money to pay off her fine. He and

Marion had never gotten along, but family pride was such that he couldn’t

let his daughter languish in a Dutch prison. Nevertheless, relations

between my father and Marion, which had never been warm, became

positively frigid, and I saw very little of her.

Then, when I graduated from law school, she decided a vacation was in

order, so she sent me the money for a ticket to Asia, where she was

living while married for the third time to husband No. 2, a Naval

officer. He was only No. 2 because she married her first husband twice.

What ensued was the most exciting year of my life.

For example, this was during the era of the Chinese warlords. We were

driving across northern China when we were “captured” by the troops of

one such war lord. Given our lack of Chinese and the general confusion,

we were never sure whether it was the Tiger of Manchuria or the Christian

General, so named because he baptized his troopers with a fire hose.

Whoever they were, after jabbing me with their bayonets a few times,

they decided to execute me as an enemy of the state. Marion saved my life

by promising to become the concubine of either the Tiger of Manchuria or

the Christian General, whichever troops had captured me. Marion was never

one to let something like a promise rule her life. Once I was released,

she left the warlord in the lurch and we made our escape.

Then there was the time when we were living in the Philippines. Marian

had a car, a convertible sedan. She and I were going someplace and picked

up two Naval officers in their dress white uniforms. A digression.

Water buffalo go to the bathroom seldom and, as a result, when they

do, the results are tremendous. At that time, water buffalo were used as

a means of transportation, and their evacuations littered the highways.

We are driving along, and Marion hit one of those giant plops going full

speed. It covered our windshield, which kept it from covering Marion and

me.

Not so fortunate were the two Naval officers in their dress white

uniforms. The uniforms and the wearers became instantly brown.

Marion had a myriad of other adventures, both high and low, but that’s

enough for this issue.

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

column runs Tuesdays.