There's more to Sandra Day O'Connor's life than being 'first' on the U.S. Supreme Court

Reflections on the life of Sandra Day O’Connor often start with the fact she was the first woman to serve on the U.S. Supreme Court.

It is the accomplishment that secured her place in history. It is the reason that her death on Dec. 1 merited so much national and global attention.

But that phrase does not begin to define who O’Connor was in full, nor capture the breadth of her legacy.

O’Connor, raised in a remote Arizona ranch home that for much of her childhood had no running water or electricity, seemed uniquely suited for her historic role.

Before she integrated the all-male Supreme Court, where the honorific title was “Mr. Justice,” she already had busted into the all-male world of cattle roundups on the ranch as a school-aged girl. She paved the way, she would say, for other females to follow her. Just as she would on the nation’s high court.

She graduated third in her class at Stanford Law School, but could not find a job as an attorney. Firms, she was told, were not hiring women. She would later help upend any thoughts that some roles were unsuited for women.

As a state lawmaker, where she became the first female majority leader in the state Senate, she looked to find consensus. But she also could stand her ground against her sometimes boorish, and drunken, colleagues. One lawmaker, during an argument, told O’Connor that if she were a man, he would punch her in the nose. O’Connor’s response: “If you were a man, you could.”

Balancing career, family and the district social scene

Her nomination to the U.S. Supreme Court caused a stir. But on the court, she didn’t look to upend legal precedents. She was cautious, sometimes to the frustration of her fellow justices. Her time as a lawmaker gave her respect for the branch of government that passed laws. She looked not to pass laws from the bench but instead to rule on the case in front of her.

The first woman justice soon became the pivotal vote for much of her tenure. She was often with the majority on 5-4 decisions. Hers was called the deciding vote, though she was quick to point out all nine justices decided.

She and her husband, John, were fixtures on the Washington social circuit and on the dance floors. O’Connor was seen as a celebrity, sought for conversations and photographs. At one gala, a drunken National Football League player told her — just before falling asleep on the floor — “Come on, Sandy baby, loosen up.”

She redefined the role of women throughout her life while still living up to the gender norms of the time. Throughout her career, she balanced the obligations of her work with those of her children.

One of her sons once dropped the cookies she had made for him to bring to class. Hearing about it, O’Connor halted the state Senate session she was presiding over, came home, made a fresh batch and then returned to the Arizona Capitol to resume the business of lawmaking.

While on the U.S. Supreme Court, and as her husband showed signs of dementia, she would bring him with her to the court’s chambers.

Eventually, maintaining the balance was too challenging, and she stepped away from the bench.

O'Connor's life after the Supreme Court

In her life after the court, O’Connor looked to create innovative ways to teach students the workings of government. Such knowledge, she said, “is not passed down from generation to generation through the gene pool; it must be learned anew by each generation.”

O’Connor also advocated for increased funding to battle Alzheimer’s disease. She publicly shared her journey alongside her husband, illuminating a disease and helping the public understand its anguishing complexity. That included her husband no longer recognizing her and finding another love in the facility where he lived until his death in 2009.

O’Connor herself was diagnosed with dementia. In 2018, she announced her retirement from public life.

Little was known about the years that followed, other than O’Connor was living in Arizona, the state she cherished.

During her first term on the U.S. Supreme Court, her friend Ruth McGregor told her biographer O'Connor would occasionally walk out to an interior courtyard and soak up what she could of the Washington sun, a low-wattage version of what she enjoyed at the Lazy B Ranch as a girl.

And, for a time, that ranch life was her only ambition.

During a 2005 talk at the Scottsdale Civic Center Library, O’Connor took a question from a youthful voice in the back of the room asking what O’Connor had wanted to be when she grew up.

“I wanted to be a cattle rancher,” O’Connor said. “And it didn’t quite turn out that way.”

Reach the reporter at 602-444-8473 or richard.ruelas@arizonarepublic.com.

This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Sandra Day O'Connor: A full life as justice, politician, wife and mom