Remembrance of Antonin Scalia

Abstract

Remembrance of Antonin Scalia RUTH BADER GINSBURG Justice Scalia, in his preface to the libretto for the comic opera Scalia!Ginsburg, described as the peak ofhis days on the bench an evening in 2002 at the Opera Ball, held at the British Ambassador’s Residence. There, he joined two Washington National Opera tenors at the piano for a medley ofsongs. He called it the famous Three Tenors perfor­ mance. He was, indeed, a convivial, exuber­ ant performer. It was my great good fortune to have known him as working colleague and dear friend. In my treasure trove of memories, an early June morning, 1996. I was about to leave the Court to attend the Second Circuit Judicial Conference at Lake George. Justice Scalia entered, opinion draft in hand. Tossing a sheafofpages onto my desk, he said: “Ruth, this is the penultimate draft of my dissent in the Virginia Military Institute case. It’s not yet in shape to circulate to the Court, but I want to give you as much time as I can to answer it.” On the plane to Albany, I read the dissent. It was a zinger, taking me to task on things large and small. Among the disdainful footnotes: “The Court refers to the University of Virginia at Charlottesville. There is no University of Virginia at Charlottesville, there is only the University of Virginia.” Thinking about fitting responses consumed my weekend, but I was glad to have the extra days to adjust the Court’s opinion. My final draft was much improved thanks to Justice Scalia’s searing criticism. Indeed, whenever I wrote for the Court and received a Scalia dissent, the majority opinion ultimately released was notably better than my initial circulation. Justice Scalia homed in on the soft spots, and gave me just the stimulation I needed to write a more persuasive account of the Court’s decision. Another indelible memory, the day the Court decided Bush v. Gore, December 12, 2000,1 was in Chambers, exhausted after the marathon: review granted Saturday, briefs filed Sunday, oral argument Monday, opin­ ions completed and released Tuesday. No surprise, Justice Scalia and I were on opposite sides. The Court did the right thing, he had no doubt. I strongly disagreed and explained why in a dissenting opinion. Around 9:00 p.m. the telephone, my direct line, rang. It was Justice Scalia. He didn’t say “get over it.” Instead, he asked, “Ruth, why are you still at the Court? Go home and take a hot bath.” Good advice I promptly followed. 250 JOURNAL OF SUPREME COURT HISTORY Justice Ginsburg and Justice Scalia enjoyed celebrating their March birthdays together. They were photographed with their respective birthday cakes in the Natalie Cornell Rehnquist Dining Room in 2008. Among my favorite Scalia stories, when President Bill Clinton was mulling over his first nomination to the Supreme Court, Justice Scalia was asked: “If you were stranded on a desert island with your new Court colleague, who would you prefer, Larry Tribe or Mario Cuomo?” Scalia answered quickly and distinctly: “Ruth Bader Ginsburg.” Within days, the President chose me. I recall, too, a dark day for me, confined in a hospital in Heraklion, Crete, in the summer of 1999, the beginning of my bout with colorectal cancer. Justice Scalia’s was the first outside call I received. “Ruth,” he said, “Get well,” and “let me know ifthere is anything I can do to help.” Justice Scalia was a man ofmany talents, a jurist of captivating brilliance, high spirits, and quick wit, possessed of a rare talent for making even the most somber judge smile. The press wrote of his “energetic fervor,” “astringent intellect,” “peppery prose,” “acu­ men” and “affability.” Not so well known, he was a discerning shopper. In Agra, India, together in 1994, our driver took us to his friend’s carpet shop. One rug after another was tossed onto the floor, leaving me without a clue which to choose. Nino pointed to one he thought his wife Maureen would like for their beach house in North Carolina. I picked the same design, in a different color. It has worn very well. Once asked how we could be friends...