One foggy, yet glamorous night with Judge Gardner

DON CANTRELL

The recent disclosure that Judge Robert (Bob) Gardner has called it a

day on column writing for the Daily Pilot leaves a light cloud of

nostalgia floating above.

Still, his many years of gracing the pages with good humor,

interest and historical rainbows warmed a wide readership around the

Newport Harbor area.

To many of us over the decades, Gardner was always, well, just

good ol’ Bob Gardner.

And he liked it that way. He was always calm, positive and a

friend to all outside his line of duty on the bench.

He always enjoyed sports growing up in the harbor area, be it

surfing, sailing or golfing. In fact, he and his late wife Katy were

familiar figures at both the Santa Ana and Irvine Coast country

clubs.

Interestingly enough, it was Katy who introduced him to the game

of golf.

We all knew he was a judge in our early times, but, to him, he

consistently marked such formalities for the courtroom.

Over the years, we never came around to telling him why there was

hesitation, in time to mention his name amongst new faces in the

public eye or even in most private circles.

The reactions varied from nervous laughter or crinkled smiles or a

bit of gasping or just plain shock.

In fact, we recall one night in January 1961--the night of the

annual Orange County Press Club awards banquet and Gardner was the

esteemed master of ceremonies.

And I had a date with a refined lady, who was new to the community

and had never been to anything as glittering as a huge press club

banquet.

One problem: the fog was intense that night. It was as heavy a fog

as we had ever seen locally. One could easily project that it would

be a long, difficult drive to Anaheim. She called to say she could

make it easier by driving to my home.

As she was en route, the phone rang. It was Bob Gardner. He said,

in part, “I’m glad I caught you before you left. Could I ride up with

you tonight? I forgot this was the night Katy would have the other

car.”

And his auto was in the repair shop.

“No problem, Bob,” we replied.

“That fog sure looks ugly, doesn’t it?”

We agreed while mentally computing out the drive from Costa Mesa

to Corona del Mar and then to Anaheim. The burning question (forget

the dinner): Could we get the master of ceremonies there before the

award program began?

After the lady arrived, and learned we would have an honored guest

with us, she could only exclaim, “Judge Gardner! Oh, good heavens, I

need to check my hair. Do I look all right? What will we talk about?”

To make a long story short, we finally arrived and in good time

for dinner.

But after Gardner extended thanks and faded into the crowd, Tom

Keevil, the Pilot Editor, sporting an astonished face, asked, “Did

you come with Bob Gardner?”

We nodded.

“Wow,” Keevil gasped.

We told the date, “It’s OK, he doesn’t know the judge that well

yet.”

At any rate, that’s a sampling of why we came to refrain from

mentioning the name Bob Gardner to anyone other than “His Honor” or

certified homegrown natives.

It is more amusing to hear Al Irwin reflect back on the late

twenties when he and his Newport Beach grade school mates became

aware of Bob Gardner and his Santa Ana High pals during visits for

ocean surfing. Harbor High did not open until 1930, so locals like

Gardner attended Santa Ana High.

Irwin recalled that he and his mates didn’t favor the big teen

surfers “and we used to stop and throw wet sandballs at them.” We

assume the prepsters sometimes chased them down the beach.

Irwin, former athletic director at UC Irvine, remembered Gardner

well when he was a young Newport lifeguard. He said, “Bob always

favored surfing at The Wedge in Balboa and Little Corona. He loved

surfing.”

Irwin, who once served as a bouncer at the famous Rendezvous

Ballroom in Balboa, also remembered how popular Gardner was with the

coeds during dance nights.