ROBERT GARDNER -- The Verdict

Marcus McCallen was quite a guy. A wealthy Huntington Beach oil man,

he had an outgoing personality that made him one of the most popular men

in the county. At one time he was the mayor of Huntington Beach. Stories

about him abound. Among my many favorites are as follows:

Each year he had a big party at his refinery, to which all Orange

County notables were invited. And so it was that a group of us found

ourselves in his office. Marcus was being expansive. “You see that rug?

Cost me five grand. And this desk cost me 15 grand. Even this wallpaper

cost a bundle -- three or four grand, as I remember.”

He turned to a man none of us knew. “Sorry, sir, I’m afraid I don’t

know you.”

The stranger responded: “I’m the new county assessor. Who are you?”

Marcus rose to the occasion. “Sir, I am the biggest liar in Orange

County.”

Another McCallen story. World War II. It is my last night in the

States before I go overseas. My wife, Katie, and I are in a nightclub in

San Francisco, and there’s McCallen. He comes to our table.

“Bob, Mrs. Gardner.” He turns to me. “Bob, I’ve got a little problem.”

He gestures toward the rather meager chorus line, six girls to be exact.

Marcus continues: “Bob, I got in a little over my head and got dates

for tonight with each of those girls. Now, I can’t handle six girls.

Three’s OK, but not six. How about you take three, and I’ll take three?”

“But Marcus,” I told him, “this is my last night in the States. I’m

shipping out tomorrow, so this is my last night with my wife.”

Marcus smiles at Katie. “Oh, that’s all right,” he said. “We’ll send

her home in a taxi, and I’ll pay her fare.’

Of course I turned him down, but somehow Katie never liked Marcus

after that.

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

column runs Tuesdays.