My Father the Chief Justice

Earl Warren, Jr.

(Editor's Note: Chief Justice Earl Warren presided over the Supreme Court in what was probably the most critical era of twentieth century American history. His own Memoirs give hints of some of the stresses of the times, and Mrs. Fry's summary of the taped interviews with some of his contemporaries, in the progress of his career toward the Court, which follows, captures the flavor of some of the issues in which Warren the prosecutor, attorney general and governor participated. In the present article one of his children –Judge Earl Warren, Jr. of the Municipal Court of Sacramento–balances this with a warm family portrait.)

As a preface to what follows, I must state that I am simply one of the six children of my father and am only expressing my own viewpoints. However, I feel comfortable in doing so because we are a very close family and am sure that most of my observations and comments would be concurred in by the others. Nevertheless, I would not feel the least bit offended if I were to be contradicted in any respect by any of the others, for each naturally has his or her own viewpoints which are entitled to equal weight.

As it is, I was asked to write this piece, and, for reasons of my own (and I believe my father's) I have chosen to write it without any of the rest of the family's concurrence or revisions, or even their knowledge that I was doing so.

Also, I was assigned to discuss only personal aspects of my father and the family, which I find to be a difficult task since all of us were relegated to living lives which were inextricably woven into his public service. It is also a difficult task because we were so close and because at times we individually lived thousands of tribulations and elations which he probably felt even more deeply

As a beginning, I am certain that all of us would agree that no one could have finer parents. And that to include my mother in the context of this article is absolutely essential, for why else would my father have said in the dedication of his memoirs: "To Nina, the best thing that ever happened to me.

From the early days of our lives, my father was a prominent public figure –the most effective crime-busting District Attorney in the history of the Nation, and Attorney General of the same vein, a superb Governor of one of the largest states in the Union, a candidate for Vice-President, a seeker of the Presidency itself, then finally the Chief Justice of the United States. Yet, we were largely insulated from the effects of his career by both him and my mother, who ran a household just as though he was engaged in an occupation which was totally unpolitical and uncontroversial.

Ours were normal childhoods in the formative years, with no inkling of being "different," other than the knowledge that Dad held "important" jobs. And even as to that, our knowledge of their importance came almost entirely from others. Fortunately, the realization of his trials, disappointments, and successes became evident only after we had become teenagers–and then only to a limited extent.

I still cannot fully understand how my father and mother achieved this, except through the fact that we were treated the same as any nonpolitical family by them and, in retrospect, the fact that they somehow otherwise managed to keep our family life insulated from my father's professional life. I have immense difficulty in trying to determine how they did this, because of all the public notoriety which accompanied his achievements, yet they did, and we are all extremely grateful.

Each of us was allowed, in fact encouraged, to live an independent life, with friends of our own choosing, and to follow the patterns of development which naturally ensued. There was absolutely no urging to confine ourselves in any way, nor even the slightest hint that we should conform to certain standards commensurate with his public positions. As children, we therefore were free to do anything we desired, as long as it was a morally acceptable course of conduct. Hence each of us led a separate life–chose our own friends and pursued our own inclinations completely unfettered. We grew up with associates of all races and backgrounds such as with Oklahomans escaping the Dust Bowl, with blacks seeking a better life than their sharecropping environs, with hoboes in their search for a place in society, with Asians and Hispanics in their desperate desire for legitimacy, with Jews escaping from the iron boot of the Nazis and with a myriad of other cultures also seeking to achieve acceptance and success. All such activities were enthusiastically encouraged by our parents, for aside from their inherently humanitarian instincts, each had grown up under modest circumstances and my mother had come to the United States as a baby from Sweden.

Oakland, California, our home, was a tremendous melting pot in this regard, for it was one of the "poor man's" major points of entry into a new life–particularly during the Depression and the advent of World War II. And since we always attended public schools, the exposure to diverse cultures was intense indeed.

This "separate life" aspect pertained to religious activities as well. Each of us was free to question and explore and then affiliate according to our individual consciences and preferences. We all started out in the Baptist Church which my mother regularly attended, but as we grew older we wound up in sub-families which adhered to various Protestant, Catholic and Jewish persuasions. And, in between, most of us had strong exposure to other religious faiths.

Mother was inclined to the traditional church concept, and had close relatives who were missionaries by profession. On the other hand, my father attended church infrequently, yet was a dedicated student of nearly all religions. And he found special comfort in the basic religious tenets of the Masonic Order. There was absolutely no disparity in this regard as to the end result, for both are the most inherently moral and basically religious people I have ever known, and their teachings left no doubt in any of our minds as to what was morally right and what was morally wrong or questionable.

Upon my father's election to the governorship in the early forties we moved to Sacramento, and for the first time realized that we were somehow classified as "different." Yet, again, our parents minimized the move in our minds and continued their attitudes the same as if we had simply moved across the street in Oakland.

I was becoming a teenager then, but nevertheless accepted it as just another adjustment, as did my younger brothers and sisters. However, within a short time at least the older ones of us began to realize from the circumstances and the attitudes of some of our peers that we were part of a public trust which should in no way be compromised. Accordingly, we took greater note of my father's public image and tried to conduct ourselves in a reasonably decent fashion from the public standpoint.

That is not to say that our parents' attitudes changed in the slightest. It was simply a case of us growing up and recognizing that we too had certain responsibilities in our daily conduct. Yet, aside from the fact that we realized we were now "in the public eye," we pretty much did as we had done before–just that we tempered our actions so that we were a bit more discrete in masking our natural teenage recklessness. Nevertheless, we maintained the same spectrum of associates and activities and managed to be well within the mainstream of what others of our age were doing and experiencing. In fact, many of our associates can relate espisodes that we all now cherish, but which would have been considered a bit "wild" in those times, and even today

It is perfectly logical at this point to question why I dwell upon our development as children when the story is meant to focus on my father. To this, I respond that others have discussed my father's professional life and other aspects of his personal life and that my assignment is to talk about him as a father. And, as I have previously mentioned, this requires talking about my mother, myself and my brothers and sisters. For we were and are a "family" in classical terms, and he and my mother were a "team in the grandest sense.

Perhaps it is peculiar, even unbelievable to most, to perceive the possibility of a truly great relationship between parents and their children, that there would be no feeling or actuality of rebellion between them, that everyone was "on his honor," that there was no corporal punishment, that each child was treated equally according to his or her desires, needs, strengths and deficiencies, that each child recognized this, and that no serious dispute ever arose which was not readily resolved by frank discussion between the parents and the child involved. Yet that is exactly the way our family operated.

There was no pressure to do anything in particular, except your best, and there was no undue pressure even in that regard. But because of this we did try hard and successfully ended up in a wide variety of endeavors.

From my own standpoint, I leaned toward the sciences and eventually chose agriculture, majoring on it in college and working in it for about five years thereafter. However, when it came time to question whether I should broaden my horizons by further study in that or a related field, I went into law–something I had always vowed never to do because it was not my inclination and because I wanted no part in something where it could be said I was attempting to follow in my father's career. Yet that is exactly why I made the election–because I had a gnawing feeling that I was running away from the law because of his prominence in it. One of Dad's cardinal principles was that it was self-defeating to run away from an honorable endeavor and I couldn't get this out of my mind. So I went to law school, and even deliberately to the same one he had gone to–and in later years accepted a judgeship, even though I knew that was something I would never do. And none of these moves had ever been even remotely suggested by my parents. Such were the principles we children were guided by, and I am sure that each of the others can recount similar personal experiences based upon what we learned from our parents.

How, one can logically ask, could these parents with the onerous demands of public life, such as meetings, travel and campaigning possibly spend an adequate amount of time with so large a family? Frankly, I don't know–but they surely did. In fact, I don't think any one of us, at any time, felt that both parents were not always right there. That was true even after they moved across the country to live in Washington, D.C.

While we were young, my mother was always physically present, for she and my father gave the family number one priority in this respect. And as to my father, it seemed like he was always there too, although, naturally, he physically wasn't. Somehow they both were always physically present in our minds–which tends to give real credence to the theory that it is the quality not the quantity of contact between parent and child which counts.

Then came my father's appointment to the Supreme Court, which was a turning point in all our lives. We were basically adults at the time, so only our parents moved to the District of Columbia.

Now we were separated geographically. Now we were no longer politically naive, but acutely aware of what my father had been, what he had done, what he was, and what he believed in. But none of us envisioned the controversy which would follow his appointment, nor the impact on our individual lives which would result.

We were then, and subsequently, politically divided; some Republicans, some Democrats, some Independents, some decidedly liberal, others ultra-conservative, and some middle-of-the-roaders. In this respect, I am including an "expanded family" which includes spouses and their families, for our family has always been deemed to include all involved in it. It should be emphasized that my mother was always apolitical and that my father never tried to impress any particular political philosophy on any family member.

Whereas we had previously felt some focusing of the political spotlight upon us, this was showdown time, a period of about 20 years when we would be forced to defend or refute what the Supreme Court was doing. And it was terribly difficult–for regardless of political persuasion or personal feelings, we, as individuals, had to take stands. There was a stigma to being in the family and it took many strange turns. Friends became enemies. Enemies became friends. And, in most cases, both became skeptics. We had to explain, disavow or support, for the Court was one of the major issues of our time. And this affected our personal lives immensely. Yet through all of this, my father and mother remained the same as always–stoic, serene, totally understanding, and one-hundred-percent parents. And because of this, they became the greatest sources of earthly strength that we had, as well as symbols of what we should strive to be.

What else can be said? Certainly a great deal. But I think these few words and broad observations are the best I can do within the context of the assignment. It would take volumes to describe more, let alone know where to start and where to end. Have I been overly laudatory? Is it a fairy tale? Aren't there negative aspects I could point to? No. These are my total views–and I have never been accused of restraining myself in matters where my father was concerned. In fact, the closeness of the relationship between the two of us rested to a great extent upon my questioning and challenging demeanor.

Those with a psychological bent have often asked if our relationship with our parents has been a "love-hate affair." The answer has always been that we love our parents while hating the "goldfish bowl" problems imposed on us–although our parents did everything they could to keep these problems from us, and did effectively insulate us during our formative years.

I have also been asked if we have always had a "love-affair" with our parents. That is an easy question. The answer is: "Absolutely"!