SAN FRANCISCO — In the days leading up to the California Supreme Court's historic same-sex marriage ruling Thursday, the decision "weighed most heavily" on Chief Justice Ronald M. George -- more so, he said, than any previous case in his nearly 17 years on the court.
The court was poised 4 to 3 not only to legalize same-sex marriage but also to extend to sexual orientation the same broad protections against bias previously saved for race, gender and religion. The decision went further than any other state high court's and would stun legal scholars, who have long characterized George and his court as cautious and middle of the road.
But as he read the legal arguments, the 68-year-old moderate Republican was drawn by memory to a long ago trip he made with his European immigrant parents through the American South. There, the signs warning "No Negro" or "No colored" left "quite an indelible impression on me," he recalled in a wide-ranging interview Friday.
"I think," he concluded, "there are times when doing the right thing means not playing it safe."
Yet he described his thinking on the constitutional status of state marriage laws as more of an evolution than an epiphany, the result of his reading and long discussions with staff lawyers.
As he sometimes does with the most incendiary cases, George assigned the majority opinion to himself. He wrote and rewrote, poring over draft after draft. Each word change had to be approved by the other three justices joining him in the majority. Even the likely dissenters had to be told in "pink slips" of every word change.
On Wednesday, the long-awaited ruling was finally ready.
Court Clerk Fritz Ohlrich locked up stacks of the fat, stapled court opinions in his office to protect against leaks, and George's staff asked that security be beefed up. A fellow justice told George she would be at her desk in the morning because she wanted "to be part of history."
On Thursday, George was in his chambers, being interviewed for a documentary on death penalty administration. He said he wished he had canceled the interview.
He was on camera when he heard "a big roar" from the crowd outside.
George, who grew up in Los Angeles, said he counts gays among his friends. Four years ago, he peered out his chambers' windows across from San Francisco City Hall to watch gay couples lining up to marry. He saw the showers of rice, the popping of champagne corks, the euphoria of the couples.
