Ex-Presiding Judge Ready to Move On After 2 Terms

He’s been called a hawk. And a softy.

He’s a straight shooter, a man who looks people in the eye when speaking to them. Yet he’s not beyond surprises, even to those who know what to expect.

And while he tends to dig his heels into the ideological ground on which he stands, Judge Theodore E. Millard loves to explore new terrain, especially in the legal realm.

The 58-year-old Orange resident was the county’s top jurist until New Year’s Day, when Judge Kathleen E. O’Leary took over the post. During his two-term reign, he grappled with some of the thorniest issues in the court’s history, including an unprecedented battle over court funding. He also rallied the county’s legal community to fight an attempt to recall the judge who granted O.J. Simpson custody of his children after the star athlete’s acquittal on murder charges.

Through it all, Millard approached each decision with the sort of toughness that has earned him a reputation as a courthouse curmudgeon, combined with an almost romantic interpretation of the law as society’s moral compass. Though seemingly contradictory, the two approaches fit like two pieces of a puzzle in Millard.

“I’m not perfect, and I imagine that I’ve probably made some mistakes. No one bats 1.000,” Millard said in a recent interview. “But I’ve done the best job that I could do. I think even my opponents would think I’ve acted on the principle of integrity.”

Leaning back in an armchair overlooking a spectacular view of the mountains from his new ninth-floor chamber, Millard recalled when every day was like trying to put out six fires with only four firetrucks. He said the stint was a privilege that allowed him to see the court system in a new light. But true to the adventurer’s spirit that once led him to buy a motorcycle for cross-country trips, he is ready to move on.

“I’m looking forward to moving out of the fire department,” joked Millard, who is now heading a five-judge panel to tackle a backlog of about 300 civil cases.

One of Millard’s most controversial moves as presiding judge was to lead an effort to sue the county, contending that the courts needed an additional $23 million for operations and improvements. County supervisors allocated only $4.5 million and, after a six-month legal tug of war, handed over an additional $2.95 million to settle the case.

Supervisor William G. Steiner, who knew Millard for 20 years before the pair became legal adversaries, said the judge was “a hawk on court funding.”

“Sometimes, he just doesn’t want to give an inch. That made it tough to negotiate,” Steiner said. “By the same token, I know what he did, he did based upon his strong commitment to the court.”

In the midst of the court battle came the failed campaign to recall Judge Nancy Wieben Stock, who awarded custody to Simpson, acquitted of murdering the children’s mother and a friend.

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An unrelated case added to the controversy: Stock had awarded custody of two children to their mother, who later killed them and then herself. The Los Angeles-based Women’s Progressive Alliance, which led the recall effort, pointed to both cases as evidence that Stock should be removed.

Millard assigned Stock to those cases.

Although some urged him to distance himself from Stock, Millard stood behind her because he believed that her decisions were soundly based on the evidence and that the recall had a potential to undermine the independence of the judiciary.

“You don’t want judges to look over their shoulder every time they make a decision. You want them to look at the law,” he said.

His 1996 decision to disqualify all Orange County judges from hearing the bankruptcy-related civil misconduct cases against three county officials was meant to free the judiciary from perceived conflicts of interests, since the supervisors control court funding.

The charges against Steiner and Supervisor Roger R. Stanton and County Auditor-Controller Steve E. Lewis later were dropped, but the disqualification still came as a surprise to the district attorney’s office, which had not requested the unusual move.

Superior Court Judge David O. Carter, who often goes bicycling with Millard during lunch, summed up the former presiding judge’s last two years: “He was just the right person at the right time to preside over our court in a moment of crisis.”

Millard had risen through the ranks via the district attorney’s office. He was a prosecutor from 1966 to 1978 and fondly described the experience as the most fun he has ever had on the job. Those who knew him from those early days say he was “tough as nails” in arguing his cases but was accessible to and supportive of new attorneys.

Millard first donned the black robe in 1979, after a bitter election campaign during which he leveled criticism at the court system’s leniency, among other things.

That stormy entrance to the bench is vintage Millard, who over the years has exhibited similar gruffness in his bouts with the media. Just ask any media person who has dared to park illegally at the courthouse--Millard’s pet peeve.

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His strong-arm diplomacy led one attorney to quip at his swearing-in ceremony two years ago: “Judge Millard is a good person to have in place for the court system at a time when court funding is at stake. Because if the supervisors didn’t give the court some money, he would just beat them up.”

“He’s not easily intimidated,” said Jennifer Keller, who made the remark. “He is less afraid of what people might think of him than almost anybody I know. That’s very refreshing, especially in a judge.”

Born in Puerto Rico in 1939, Millard grew up in a family structured by the tenets of the military. (His father was the El Toro Marine base’s first commanding officer.)

A graduate of Santa Ana High School and Cal State Long Beach, Millard studied mechanical engineering before having a change of heart.

After graduation, Millard said, he decided on law school partly to avoid the draft to Vietnam and was accepted at Hastings College of Law in San Francisco.

Once Millard plunged into the law, he immersed himself in its intricacies, sometimes for personal reasons.

Several years ago, Millard said, he fought an emotional legal battle to gain custody of his granddaughter, now 9, whose mother had died in a car accident and whose father was using drugs. The case shaped Millard’s views on the importance of family law and led to his outspoken position on grandparent guardianship rights.

At Keller’s urging, Millard agreed to be the bar association’s “poster boy” on the subject. Photos of the girl and another granddaughter who also lives with him and his wife, Sondra, grace his office. Among the snapshots is one of Millard and the 9-year-old on a tandem bike.

“He always tries to come across as this rough-and-tumble kind of guy,” Keller said. “But I am constantly surprised at how sentimental he is.”

One person who is familiar with this less conspicuous side of Millard is O’Leary. When he stepped down from the top post, she gave him a green embroidered couch pillow that read: “Ted, It’s a Woman Thing . . . K.O.”

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The joke came about because whenever O’Leary expressed an opinion that Millard disagreed with, he would banter, “Is this a woman thing?” But he said O’Leary taught him new ways of thinking about certain issues.

Millard treasures the pillow because it reminds him of where he is and where he is not.

“I’m not going to look back and say, ‘Gee, did I make the right decisions?’ ” Millard said. “There’s always something out there to learn. . . . I’m looking forward to that. I’m looking forward to those new challenges.”