June 1988 was "Newman-mania" in Bridgeport.

The actor was being sued by Westport deli owner Julius Gold, who claimed Paul Newman had reneged on a verbal promise to share the profits of the Newman's Own salad dressings, which Gold said he had helped develop.

The trial, dubbed the Salad Wars, was held in a sixth-floor courtroom at the Main Street courthouse from June 1 to June 29, when the case was declared a mistrial. A second trial was held in March 1990, ending with a verdict in Newman's favor.

I first came in contact with Newman on the first day of the trial in 1988. State judicial officials had managed to keep the case under wraps, and I found myself the only reporter in the courtroom. I took a seat right behind Newman and his small entourage.

During the day's testimony, I noticed Newman doodling on a lined yellow legal pad to the apparent amusement of his friend and partner, A.E. Hotchner, who was sitting beside him. When I bent forward for a closer look, I saw that Newman had been drawing little caricatures of Gold in an apron with horns and a devil's tail. I put my observations in my story for the newspaper.

The following day when I walked into the courtroom, I found the case had been "discovered,"

Advertisement
and the courtroom was filled with press and spectators.

Newman was sitting on the witness stand, holding court for about a dozen reporters. When he spotted me coming into the courtroom, he abruptly stopped what he was saying. "You, Tepfer, I have a bead on you!" he exclaimed, pointing his right index finder at me as if his hand were a gun.

For the remainder of the trial, Newman ensured that the row behind him in the courtroom was always filled with his friends and family.

Later in the trial, Newman's ire shifted to another reporter, John Capsis, of the Westport News. During a recess in the trial one day, a friend had handed Newman a copy of the Westport News with a front-page story about the trial by Capsis. Newman read the first few paragraphs of the story, then suddenly threw the paper to the floor and charged out of the courtroom to the crowded corridor.

The crowd flattened itself against the walls of the corridor as Newman screamed "Capsis!" His target was standing at the end of the corridor, puffing on a cigarette in a holder, and slowly turned to face the red-faced Newman, now standing about 30 feet from him. For a long moment the two men stood facing each other like aging gunfighters.

Then Newman exclaimed, "Five-nine in heels, you [expletive]!" and strode angrily back into the courtroom.

During the second trial, Newman's mood had much improved, and he and I used to play this little game in which I would try to guess the movie from which the suit he was wearing that day had come. He said after each movie he was given the suit he had worn.

"You're my favorite reporter," he gushed after the jury found in his favor.