ROBERT GARDNER -- The verdict

Charlie Thomas was a snob. However, under that thin veneer of snobbery

was a delightful, thoughtful and fun-loving man. Charlie grew up in

wealth. His father was the biggest cattle owner and farmer in Missouri.

Every year, Charlie’s father took the family to Europe for a guided tour

of the appropriate places. It was that kind of wealth. The one

embarrassment of his childhood was that he was born not far from Harry

Truman -- a man Charlie, as a lifelong Republican, hated with a deep and

enduring passion.

Came World War I, Charlie became a Navy flier, although Navy fliers had

little to do in that war. After the war, he came west and became

president of Foreman and Clark, a men’s store in Los Angeles. There he

met and wed Julie, who, he was fond of bragging, was richer than he ever

was and owned most of downtown Los Angeles.

Came World War II, and Charlie became secretary of the Navy, and after

the war he became president of TWA. However, a few years with eccentric

Howard Hughes, and Charlie quit and came home only to promptly become the

president of the Irvine Co. upon the death of Myford Irvine.

And so I met Charlie Thomas for the first time. At some kind of a

community gathering to welcome him I was master of ceremonies and kidded

him in my irreverent way. He didn’t speak to me for two years. Then we

became golfing partners, and for almost the rest of his life we were

playing partners twice a week. It was then that I discovered the kind,

thoughtful and charming individual under that veneer of snobbery. It

could take a while. Hadd Ring started calling him “Charlie” and Charlie

snapped, “Mr. Ring, you don’t know me well enough to call me by my first

name.” Later they became close friends.

While president of the Irvine Co., Charlie commissioned William Pereira

to provide a master plan for the development of the Irvine holdings. Mr.

Pereira did so, with Newport Center as its heart. As Fashion Island and

Newport Center were being built, Charlie would look up there and say that

was his Acropolis being built on than barren hill.

As I am writing this it is raining, and I am reminded of a day we were

going to play golf, but it had rained and we couldn’t take carts out on

the course. Because there were no caddies, we decided to pull carts, but

that was way below Charlie’s standards.

“I have never carried my clubs in my whole life,” he protested, but he

didn’t want to be left behind, so we started out, all the rest of us

pulling carts, Charlie carrying his clubs in his arms, much like one

would carry a baby. He looked so pitiful carrying his clubs that way that

we all gave up golf for the day.

When Charlie felt old age approaching, he quit the Irvine Co. and turned

the presidency over to Bill Mason, his right-hand man. He continued to

play golf until his health was such that he could not. I saw him

infrequently thereafter. On one occasion when I did, he told me a story

which was pure Charlie Thomas.

His doctor told him he had to give up drinking. Charlie bristled, glared

at the doctor and said, “Sir, I have been drinking two martinis before

dinner for over 70 years, and no goddamn doctor is going to interfere

with that practice.”

That was Charlie the man.

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

column runs Tuesdays.