eather Randall has no regrets, says Judith Newman in Marie Claire.
In 1995, when she was just 25 and her last name was Harlan, she married Tony Randall, who was 50 years her senior. Within three years, they had two children. Gossips whispered that she was a gold digger and that he was an old fool. “You know, I could say a million things about the hypocrisy of the people who comment on my marriage,” she says. “The first thing I’d say is, ‘You weren’t there!’ The second thing is, to all the women who have been used, abused, dumped, cheated on, and stolen from: ‘Who wouldn’t want a successful, smart, wonderful man who worshipped the ground you walked on!’” When Randall died, in 2004, leaving her a widow at 33, the critics said, ‘We told you so.’ She admits that his death has been hard on their children, now ages 9 and 10. “It’s horrible for a child to lose a parent at an early age,” Randall says, “but our life is not a tragedy because Tony died. He was a loving husband. And since he couldn’t have kids with his first wife, he desperately wanted them—so he was an incredibly loving father. And a great provider—his children have everything they will ever need. His presence is very, very strong in our lives.” Asked if she would do it all again, her answer is unequivocal: “Yes, yes, yes!