The Verdict -- Robert Gardner

Lee Bruso is one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. A big, gruff

man, he was my bailiff for a good part of my career.

During most of my judicial years with the Superior Court of Orange

County, I was the sentencing judge in the criminal division. That meant I

sentenced all prisoners except those who chose to plead not guilty and

were sent to another judge for trial.

Because most of the prisoners pleaded guilty because they were guilty,

that meant that I sentenced most of the prisoners during my term on the

Superior Court. Lee was there during that entire period.

At one point during those years, a prisoner in Northern California

broke loose and killed a judge. Hysteria took over. All prisoners were

assumed to be potential judge killers and were treated accordingly. It

became the practice to keep them in a large holding cage then release

them one by one to appear before the sentencing judge. Many judges

insisted that they be chained or put in straight jackets when coming into

court.

Not in my court. There, the prisoners were brought in as a group,

unchained and seated in the prisoners’ box, a large jury box across the

room from the judge’s podium. This was not because I was so much braver

than my fellow judges. It was because Lee Bruso was my bailiff.

Once the prisoners were in the box, Lee would go over and have a nice

man-to-man chat with them. Wearing his biggest and most insincere grin,

he would address them.

“Men, my name is Lee Bruso. I am the bailiff for Judge Gardner, that

skinny geezer with the bushy eyebrows across the way. Now, in most of the

courts in this state, they keep you people in a cage and let you out one

at a time. Not in Judge Gardner’s court. Here, we take off all those

handcuffs, and you get to come out all at once and sit here in this

comfortable jury box. Now, it’s not because my judge is some kind of

hero. He’s just a sportsman. He’s betting that if one of you tries

something, I can kill you before you kill him.”

He showed them his Colt 45.

“Now, he’s about to sentence some of you, and some of you may not

exactly like what he does. If so, forget it. Write a letter to your

congressman, but here in this court, smile and say ‘Thank you, your

honor.”’

Well, I sentenced I don’t know how many during my tour of duty with

Lee Bruso, but never was there a complaint. They were a pretty tough

group and not easily intimidated, but they must have known that Lee meant

every word he said. They practically thanked me when I sentenced them --

probably grateful to get away from that crazy bailiff and back to the

safety of their cells.

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

column runs Tuesdays.