Glimpses of the Least Pretentious of Men
by Stuart Taylor, Jr.
Justice Thurgood Marshall was sitting in his chambers, spinning yarns.
The night before, he had been watching former President Jimmy Carter’s speech to the 1988 Democratic National Convention on TV. "I said to my wife, ‘Babe, he sure looks old,’" Marshall (then 80) recalled with a puckish grin. "And she said, ‘Have you looked in the mirror lately?’
"Every once in a while," added the greatest lawyer of the 20th century, "you have to look yourself in the mirror and ask yourself, ‘Who do you think you are? You aren’t so special.’"
One of the special things about Thurgood Marshall was that-long after his place in history had been secured-he was the least pretentious of men.
At one Supreme Court conference, he told colleagues a story about a little boy who had asked for his autograph and then handed him eight cards to sign. Why eight? "Because," the boy explained, "eight of yours gets me one of Willie Mays’."
Marshall also had a warm appreciation of people as people, their foibles and their virtues. He consented to talk privately with me a few times over the last few years about the Court and other justices, and on those visits I was always struck by his generous reservoir of good will for people with whom he deeply disagreed and his sheer love of fun. I have culled from my notebooks a few examples that I hope Marshall would not mind my quoting now.
The sometimes startlingly gruff exterior that he showed the public seemed to run about a millimeter deep. "What the hell do you want?" Marshall growled as I arrived for one appointment. Within moments, the growl gave way to his trademark, high-pitched "Hee-hee-hee," as he meandered from salty appraisals of public figures to tales of tangling with Gen. Douglas Mac Arthur in Korea.
Kind Words