The Judge

Each day we spent several hours playing on the beach, frolicking in the waves or lying luxuriously on a beach mat, our hands

all over each other. For part of each day we walked through the picturesque town, gorging ourselves on ice cream and other

goodies.

Each night was for making love; not as frantically as the first night but most of the night wrapped around each other. We

managed to get as much sleep as we needed even with the constant romancing; and we always took precautions.

Going back to New York that Monday evening was difficult. Neither one of us wanted the weekend to end.

* * *

Judge Summers attended Yale through his doctorate in law and then joined a prestigious law firm in New Haven and stayed

with that firm for 18 years before being appointed to a judgeship. He continued his amorous relationships through-out his

career as an attorney, occasionally overstepping the line with married women. Perhaps this was why he never married. Why

pay for something you can get free seemed to be his attitude.

In late March, during Spring break, Vivian and I had another week together. I drove to New York Friday evening and picked

Vivian up at her dorm, again with the excuse that she was going with her mother.

We drove a short distance south of the city and stopped for the night at a motel where I signed us in as Mr. and Mrs. Ashton.

Our love making was sweet and tender, on and off throughout the night.

In the morning we drove to Gettysburg and toured the battlefield and Eisenhower’s farm. From there we went south into

Virginia and spent three days visiting various battlefields and Williamsburg before finishing the week at Mt. Vernon,

Monticello and Monroe’s home at Ash Lawn-Highland.

Returning to the manor after this glorious week, I continued my interviews with friends and colleagues of the judge who knew

him during his 25 years on the bench. He had been appointed at age 42 and retired at age 67.

The cases the judge presided over were many and varied. Early in his career they were simple in nature: burglaries,

embezzlement, missing people, neighborhood squabbles; everything but divorce. In later years the cases were more involved

and included everything from insurance fraud to murder. Seven different cases of murder were tried, including the one he was

called back for six years into his retirement.

In mid-May I took time off from my research to attend the commencement program at Julliard. Vivian graduated with high

honors and received a plaque describing her as an accomplished musician.

I completed my research in May and then began the task of putting all the material together into his life story. Sifting and

sorting, getting help from both Andy and Fran in both typing and proofreading, and final editing would take me well into the

summer. But long before I finished there was a wedding I had been looking forward to nervously.

As the day approached my brother, Bob, and I stayed at a motel outside Pittsburgh. We rented tuxedos from an outfitter in

Pittsburgh who would pick them up at Vivian’s house after the wedding. I was as nervous as a kitten. Bob took me out the

night before and after a few drinks the nervousness went away, until the morning.

The wedding was a beautiful ceremony, one that Vivian and Elizabeth had planned down to the final step. It was well attended

by all the family and many friends. I felt sad that Judge Summers wasn’t there.

Vivian looked radiant in her white gown and was accompanied by four bridesmaids. As I saw her walking down the aisle on

Jack’s arm my heart thumped with joy; she was so beautiful.

At the reception, held in the church hall, I again met all of Vivian’s relatives, including Grandma Reed, who admonished me to

take good care of Vivian or she would come back from her grave to haunt me. Then she hugged me and planted a kiss on

my cheek and said, “Charlie, I know you will take good care of her. I can tell by the way you treat her that you love her very

much. I think she chose well.”

“Thank you,” I replied, embracing her.

For our honeymoon Vivian and I had discussed many options; Paris, London, the Bahamas, among others. We decided that

the one that would be most relaxing would be a cruise on the Caribbean.

We flew to Miami and boarded the ship in Fort Lauderdale. As neither of us had ever been on a cruise ship we were amazed

at the size of it. It was like a giant floating hotel. There were so many activities we doubted we could sample all of them. Food

was available all day long and was delicious. Each evening a different type of entertainment was performed in the theater.

Also, there were three swimming pools in which we indulged ourselves and a very comfortable cabin where we spent many

hours making love.

Several stops were made at island towns; we went ashore at each and I bought various trinkets for Vivian. She bought me a

very colorful island shirt. which I loved.

* * *

Back to reality, and the beginning of our life together. Vivian moved in with me at the manor and I went back to work on Judge

Summers’ biography. The only thing missing at the manor was a piano for Vivian. This we remedied by renting one from a

piano merchant in New Haven. Vivian loved the manor, although she stated, and I agreed, it was too big for a honeymoon

cottage.

I continued working through July, at which time Fran left for another job where she could try her hand at other office chores

besides typing. Andy agreed to stay on for as long as I needed her.

In early October I called the judge whose son was in the publishing business. Three days later the son, Donald Fielding,

called me back and asked me to send the manuscript. I received another call from Mr. Fielding a week after that. “I will be

happy to publish your story; I think you did an excellent job. A contract will be faxed to you that you can sign and return to me.”

That afternoon I received the contract and was astonished to find there was an up front payment of $25,000. I was on my way.

We closed the office in mid-November. All of the files and computer files were transferred to the Law library at Yale, where

the project would be continued with funds allocated in the will. I managed to get the university to hire Andy to continue her

work on the files.

Vivian and I stayed at the manor until mid-December; then the university took over. We moved temporarily to Vivian’s house

near Pittsburgh and began looking for our dream house.

It was April before we found it, in the area near the elementary school, about 6 blocks from Jack and Elizabeth’s. And it was a

dream house. There were four bedrooms and two baths upstairs; downstairs contained a living room, a den, a room that we

could easily make into a music room, a full kitchen and a full bath.

But what convinced me was the two story garage with a room upstairs that I immediately claimed as my work room. The one

acre lot on which the house was located was half forested and half cleared. A large lawn fronted the house and a garden area

was in back of the garage.

“Do you think it will be large enough for our dozen kids?” I asked Vivian.

“Two or three,” she replied, “beginning any time you wish.”

EPILOGUE

We had our first child, a beautiful girl we named Elizabeth, the following January, then two more, a boy and a girl, 18 months

and 36 months later.

The biography didn’t sell as well as we had hoped; I helped the sales somewhat by going to several law schools and giving

talks on selected cases from the judge’s files.

Vivian applied for and got the position as backup pianist for the Pittsburgh Symphony and also played as accompanist for a

local musical theater, one I became active with also as assistant producer and script enhancer.

Completing the transcription of the judge’s files at Yale took another two years. I was sent a complete set of the computer

discs.

To have an income of some sort I began writing op-ed columns for the Pittsburgh Tribune Review and after 6 months was

rewarded with a weekly column of my own. I wrote mainly general interest articles; commenting on events of local interest,

and an occasional use of one of the judge’s cases. In each column I tried to add some humor, which I believe, added to the

popularity of the column.

And I began, ‘The Great American Novel.’

END OF STORY.