Like many people living with Alzheimer’s, former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor has good days and bad.
Now 93, she likes having her hair and nails done, eating See’s chocolates and listening to music.
“On the good days, she can get a laugh out of us,” says her oldest son, Scott O’Connor. “She’ll say some quip and crack us up. On those days, Mom’s still there.”
I talked with Scott and his mother’s lifelong friend Gay Firestone Wray at the O’Connor House in Tempe, Arizona. The adobe brick house where Sandra Day O’Connor and her husband, John, raised three sons has been reassembled piece by piece and is now used for gatherings to foster consensus, meant as a Camp David of the Southwest.
O’Connor has been retired both from the court and from public life for years now, so I didn’t see her this year, but I have interviewed her in the past. Back then, I wasn’t the only one who got to talk to her.
Son, friend of Sandra Day O’Connor tell stories of her legacy on the Supreme Court
USA TODAY
In 2009, I asked O’Connor if I could interview her, along with her friend, former clerk and retired Arizona Supreme Court chief justice Ruth McGregor, at the Arizona Biltmore. McGregor and I would do the interview in front of a packed ballroom, a breakfast celebrating the power of women.
She accepted but would need a ride. So I asked my husband to pick her up, and he took our then-10-year-old twin girls along.
He remembers being worried about driving a former Supreme Court justice. The girls just remember how O’Connor asked them about school, their favorite classes and what instruments they played. She chatted with them the entire ride. One of those twins is now a law student at the University of Virginia.
Scott says that’s just who she was. He recently visited the Supreme Court and the staff there said she would always ask about their kids and what their names were.
“And the next time Mom came in, she would ask about the kids by name.”
Brad Hartman
One of the reasons the O’Connor House was saved was its history as a place for politicians to come together for civil discourse – and quite a few parties.
“Her big strategy was kill them with kindness,” Scott says.
O’Connor served as an Arizona state senator from 1969 to 1974. She rose to the rank of Senate majority leader, making her the first woman in the nation to hold that position.
“If you needed to get an agreement on a bill in the Legislature for somebody who was inclined to vote against it, you didn’t insult them or make them look bad. You found ways to make them look good,” Scott says. “Maybe not on that bill, but another bill and you’d trade. The art of compromise. She got a lot accomplished by being a nice person.”
At least twice during the legislative session, O’Connor would host big potluck parties in her home.
“Mom and Dad would equip the bar, and Dad knew everybody’s favorite drink,” Scott says. “The Senate’s only 30 members. That’s easy to get a list of what everybody’s favorite cocktail is. And Dad could hand it to them as they walked in at the beginning of the party when they first arrived.”
The Arizona Republic
Courtesy of Alan Day
John Jay O’Connor died from complications of Alzheimer’s in 2009. They had married in 1952, after meeting at Stanford Law School.
So Scott has seen both parents’ experience.
“Her journey with Alzheimer’s has been free of the anger and depression that many get. Dad had anger and depression, not all the time, but some serious bouts of it that were really hard on the rest of the family, witnessing him suffer so,” Scott says. “Mom hasn’t had any of that.
“She doesn’t talk about it, really. Sometimes if she’ll get a shake or something (and say) ‘Yeah, I’m shaking.’ And she’d be frustrated because she’s got a shake, but she’s just pleasant to be with most of the time. In general, she’s just so happy to have a family visit and (will say), ‘Oh, don’t leave, and tell me more – what’s going on?'”
Earlier in her journey, Scott says, his mom would ask the same questions again and again because she liked hearing the family fill her in. “And now there’s less of the sort of managed script because there’s really less there. But you’ll hear with any Alzheimer’s family that you have good days and bad days.
“And on the roughest days, it’s just sad. But Mom’s still there.”
Wray met O’Connor in 1961 and has been her friend since. Wray helped lead the preservation of O’Connor House and is co-chair of the Sandra Day O’Connor Institute for American Democracy. She visits O’Connor often.
“I just know from the doctors that as you get older, all the past comes rushing up, and her past is singing songs, loving the music and just loving life,” Wray says.
So when some of O’Connor’s favorite artists are in town, Wray will take them to play for her. Wray said O’Connor loves jazz.
And sometimes, says Scott, “it’s somebody just with a guitar and a few familiar songs, especially decades-old popular Western tunes, Roy Rogers and Gene Autry kind of stuff. Mom will be in time with the lyrics, not waiting to hear it from the singer. And when you see somebody who has a hard time engaging in a conversation be fluid and on time with the lyrics, it just blows your mind like, how does the brain do that? Music is a strange thing for the Alzheimer’s brain. Those memories come back.”
Wray said she’ll stop by with Mexican food for lunch and big chocolate desserts: “We just remember the good times. She talks a little bit, but not much. And that’s OK. But (I’ll say), ‘Do you remember this, Sandra, remember this? Oh, I ran into him today.’
“And we have a wonderful time. Knows nothing about the politics of the day. She would not be happy, I will tell you. Her idea was to bring people together and work together. Not this separation. She was never for that.”
For her 93rd birthday on March 26, her friends and family took over chicken enchiladas and a three-piece cowboy band.
O’Connor sang along to old favorites: “Don’t Fence Me In.” “Home on the Range.” And “Happy Trails,” with the particularly poignant lyrics:
Kevin Wolf/Invision for Seneca Women/AP Images
I interviewed Scott on International Women’s Day, March 8. I asked him, did he fully grasp how important O’Connor was to so many women?
“There were a lot of years where I was just so beaming with pride about it and more aware of it, but she stepped down in 2006. That’s 17 years ago,” Scott says. “So she’s less and less visible and in people’s minds every day.”
Today, we raise her up again.
A rancher, lawyer, mother, wife, legislator, justice, advocate and educator.
A true Woman of the Year.
Nicole Carroll is the editor-in-chief of USA TODAY. The Backstory offers insights into our biggest stories of the week. If you’d like to get The Backstory in your inbox, sign up here. Reach Carroll at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/nicole_carroll. Subscribe to USA TODAY here.
Published
Updated