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Navigating the Interviews of the Rutgers Oral History Archives

Over 32,000 pages of full-text, searchable oral history are just a click away!  The primary source material collected by the Rutgers Oral History Archives since 1994 is available to students, teachers, researchers and scholars free of charge and without restriction. Accessibility and ease of navigation are the hallmarks of the Rutgers Oral History Archives' highly-acclaimed website.  Use the navigation menu to the right in order to browse our collections based on a broadly defined topic.  For more specific keyword searches (i.e. Civil Rights Movement, Immigration, Vietnam) use the search box on the top right corner.

Background

ROHA began as a collaboration between the Rutgers College Class of 1942 and the History Department to document the alumni's life experiences--first- and second-generation immigrant upbringings, the Great Depression, World War II and beyond. ROHA soon opened its doors to all affiliated with Rutgers University, then, to all New Jersey residents as part of ROHA's service to the public of New Jersey. The interview tracks developed then--RU history, NJ History, veterans' stories--continue to form key parts of ROHA's long-term mission. The ROHA staff has since significantly augmented its collections pertaining to understudied, underserved groups--African-American, Latina/o, LGBTQ+, women, and others--within the Rutgers, NJ and veteran populations. ROHA has also launched partnership initiatives to document new populations and events, most notably the COVID-19 Pandemic and its impact on NJ.

The Interview Process

ROHA has thus far conducted more than 2,200 oral history interviews.  Each interview follows the life-course method, documenting a subject from their family background to their present-day activities, generating a wealth of material in each session.    ROHA's philosophy is to provide free, high-quality oral history resources to the broadest audience possible.  Hundreds of hours' worth of research and preparation go into each session.  The in-person interviews are recorded in digital audio.  A basic transcript is produced and then reviewed for accuracy by a seasoned ROHA staff member.  The material discussed in the interview is verified and clarified through annotations to the greatest extent possible.  Transcripts are then reviewed by the participant for accuracy and to ensure that no harmful or embarrassing material is made public.  Interviewees are encouraged to correct only minor errors of fact or grammar.  We seek to assure participants that they have ultimate ownership of their life story.  Each interview is kept confidential until the participant agrees to its release.  Depending upon the interviewee's wishes, not all completed transcripts are released immediately to the public.  The interviewees receive copies of both the audio recording and transcripts to share with their families, providing them with a service most participants would have been unable to afford otherwise.  ROHA adheres to the practices and principles regarding human subjects research set by the IRB and the Oral History Association.  Each participant is notified of their rights and the program's procedures before the interview and asked to sign a release form.  By following these methods, ROHA ensures each participant that every reasonable measure has been taken to safeguard their privacy and to responsibly add their story to the public historical record.

Program Accomplishments

The audio recordings and final full-text interview transcripts are housed at Special Collections & University Archives, Alexander Library, and made publicly available to researchers through our website. In 1997, ROHA became one of the first oral history programs to deliver its material to a global audience through the Internet.  In the years since, our online digital archive has been recognized as a world-class oral history resource.  Each year, over 33,000 researchers visit our site, which today features over 1,200 fully-transcribed oral histories, nearly 50,000 pages of text.  The prestigious Oral History Online index ranks the site number fifteen in its "Top 100" list, placing ROHA in the company of Columbia University, NASA and the Harry S. Truman and Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Libraries.  In their book, World War II on the Web: A Guide to the Very Best Sites, historians J. Douglas Smith and Richard Jensen gave the website five out of five stars. They remarked, "The interviews are superb, by far the best available on the web, and contain a wealth of information that places the war within its broader historical context." ROHA's original emphasis on interviewing the generation that came of age during the Great Depression and World War II has resulted in many citations in works related to these events and the program's reputation as an unequaled oral history resource on the World War II era.  Stories shared with ROHA have appeared in exhibits at the Smithsonian, on History Channel documentaries and in the pages of newspapers and Pulitzer-Prize winning books and are used to educate students from K-12 through graduate levels.  Reaching out to new pools of interviewees, ROHA has emerged as a notable resource on: The Korean War, Cold War, Vietnam War and recent conflicts; The Civil Rights & Women's Rights Movements; Immigration History; Educational History; Rutgers History; The Economic, Social and Cultural History of New Jersey and the United States in the 20th and 21st Centuries. Many ROHA projects involve partnerships. Since 2018, ROHA has collaborated with faculty in the Departments of History and Latino and Caribbean Studies to collect the oral histories of Latinx individuals in communities throughout New Jersey. This led to a collaboration with the Voces Oral History Center at the University of Texas at Austin and its "Voces of a Pandemic" project. Over the same period, ROHA has worked with researchers at the Scarlet and Black, Black Voices and the Black Camden initiatives to conduct interviews of African American alumni, activists and community members. ROHA moved quickly to document the impact of the pandemic on New Jersey and its people. The ROHA website now features relevant interview collections of people in Rutgers and New Jersey communities, notably those who have been disproportionately affected by the virus and recession. ROHA has supported the interviews Dr. Paul Clemens and Dr. Johanna Schoen have conducted on the pandemic's impact. ROHA and noted documentarian Jody Small have also partnered on a pandemic-focused video interview collection and documentary.

About ROHA

The Rutgers Oral History Archives seeks to document the life experiences of New Jersey residents and/or Rutgers University faculty, staff and alumni through its own interviews and in partnership with individuals and entities within the State and University communities carrying out similar work.  ROHA seeks to make the resultant collection available to the benefit of scholars, students and others around the world through its digital online archive.  In 1997, ROHA became one of the first oral history programs to deliver its material to a global audience through the Internet.  In the years since, our online digital archive has been recognized as a world-class oral history resource. Today, it features over 1,200 fully-transcribed oral histories, nearly 50,000 pages of text. The audio recordings and final full-text interview transcripts are housed at Special Collections & University Archives, Alexander Library, and made publicly available to researchers through our website.

Military History

The Rutgers Oral History Archives is a world-renowned resource for those researching 20th and 21st Century military history. Read more about the hundreds of men and women interviewed by ROHA about their service to our country in times of war and peace.

Queens Guard

About The Queens Guard From 1957 to 1992, The Queens Guard dominated intercollegiate competition and performed at international exhibition venues throughout the U.K., Europe, Canada and Australia/New Zealand as goodwill ambassadors on behalf of the U.S. and Rutgers. Founded in 2005 as a special interest group of the Rutgers Alumni Association, The Queens Guard Alumni Association of Rutgers University (“QGAA”) represents alumni of The Queens Guard and Scarlet Rifles, each rival rifle drill teams competing cross-campus on behalf of the Air Force and Army ROTC, respectively, until their merger in 1971. To learn more about The Queens Guard and to view their overseas performances, visit QGAA’s website at http://www.queensguard-rutgers.org/. QGAA Oral Histories Queens Guard Scarlet Rifles

Rutgers University Faculty, Staff, Administration & Governance

Livingston College Alumni and Faculty

Livingston College Oral History Project This project is supported by the Livingston Alumni Association (LAA) and the Rutgers University Alumni Association.   Livingston College Alumni   Livingston College Faculty  

Pioneering Women of Rutgers College

Pioneering Women of Rutgers College May 20, 1976 (page 15 of 56). 1976. The Home News (1970-1985), May 20, 1976. https://login.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/login?qurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.proquest.com%2Fnewspapers%2Fmay-20-1976-page-15-56%2Fdocview%2F2270929616%2Fse-2%3Faccountid%3D13626 (accessed November 24, 2025). After two centuries of educating exclusively male students, Rutgers College admitted its first class of 450 women in the fall of 1972. That boundary-pushing first female class turned out to be one of the most selective of any institution of higher education in the country at the time, according to Arnold B. Grobman, then dean of Rutgers College. Here are the stories of those pioneering women who changed 200 years of Rutgers history and went on to have careers in practically all fields and professions. They became physicians and nurses, bankers and business owners, attorneys, educators, journalists, librarians, and government analysts. Read about their lives told in their own words.

Rutgers History

Since 1994, the Rutgers Oral History Archives has been documenting the stories of those who built Rutgers into the highly regarded educational institution it is today. Read more about the hundreds of alumni, faculty and staff interviewed by ROHA.

Pressman, James L.

Patrick Lee:  This begins an interview with James Pressman on April 22, 2009, at Rutgers University with Patrick Lee and Sandra Stewart Holyoak.  Sandra Stewart Holyoak:  Thank you very much, Mr. Pressman, for coming in today and talking with us.  I appreciate your coming in so soon after turning in your pre-interview survey.  Can you tell me where and when you were born? James Pressman:  I was born in Elizabeth, New Jersey, Elizabeth General Hospital.  I was born December the 3rd, 1945. SH:  Let me start by asking about your family history, beginning with your father.  JP:  Okay. SH:  Please tell me his name, where he was from and a bit about his family background. JP:  His name was Harry Pressman.  He was born in this country in 1911.  He was born in Elizabeth, New Jersey. He was an owner of Rahway Lumber Company in Rahway, New Jersey.  It was our family's business.  His father, my grandfather, Joseph Pressman, started it in 1924.  ... SH:  What a time to start a business. JP:  Yes.  ... My grandfather was from Russia, immigrated to the United States in the late 1800s, ... very early 1900s.  SH:  What was your father's background as far as education is concerned? JP:  He just was a high school graduate.  Very few people went to college back in those days.  He graduated from Batten High School in Elizabeth, New Jersey.  Back then, it was boys and girls.  ... Then, it went to all-girls and, now, it's Thomas Jefferson High School. SH:  Could you tell me about your father's military service? JP:  Oh, okay, yes, ... it's interesting.  He went into the Army.  He was drafted prior to Pearl Harbor and he was twenty-eight years old and he went to Fort Lee, Virginia.  It was called Camp Lee, Virginia, then, and he was in the Quartermaster Corps.  ... Before Pearl Harbor, a directive came down from Washington that anybody that was older than a certain age, and I believe it was twenty-eight or older, could leave the service.  So, he actually entered the service ... and left it prior to Pearl Harbor.  Once Pearl Harbor occurred, he was already out of the military, but was soon called back in. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes.  He went back in and he ... was in the antiaircraft artillery type of thing, early radar, and he was stationed in Miami Beach for a time, which our family always thought was quite funny. PL:  That is nice. JP:  ... Then, he finished the war in Panama.  He was stationed near the Panama Canal on air defense, so that he didn't see combat in either Europe or the Pacific, but he was at [the] Panama Canal.  That was his service. SH:  Did he talk about it at all? JP:  Yes.  He eventually got himself into what they called Special Services.  [Editor's Note: Special Service officers in World War II were tasked with providing recreation and entertainment to their units.]  ... He was sort of a gambler back then and ... he ran a business--he was always a business guy--so, he rented out uniforms.  ... He made a bunch of money when he was in the service [laughter] and did pretty well, and then, when the war was over, he came back and went back to work in our business, in the family business.  He also played a lot of poker in Panama--like many in the service did--to pass the time. SH:  That is a great story. JP:  True story.  I like to say he sold toasters to natives down in Panama that didn't have electricity.  I'm not quite sure if that's apocryphal or not.  [laughter] SH:  That was the kind of businessman that he was, right?  [laughter] JP:  Yes, yes, he could do it.  PL:  Do you think your father's service in the Army influenced your decision to join the service? JP:  I don't know.  I don't think so.  I mean, ... my uncles were also in World War II, but ... one of my uncles was killed at the Battle of the Bulge in World War II.  SH:  Was he your father's brother? JP:  No, no, this was my mother's side of the family.  My father only had sisters.  ... I was always interested in the military.  When my brother and I were children, we would play Army games.  So, I was always interested in it.  ... In fact, when I went to ninth grade, I didn't go to Rahway High School [for] my ninth grade, I went to Admiral Farragut Academy in Pine Beach, New Jersey, which was a naval school, and spent one year there and didn't particularly care for that kind of discipline.  So, I came back and finished Rahway High School, ... but I was always interested in the military and military things.  I always ... used to watch Victory At Sea [a popular documentary series on the US Navy broadcast during the 1950s on NBC] if you remember that program.  The theme music was great. SH:  Yes. JP:  Yes, so, yes, I liked war movies.  So, yes, I was always interested in it. SH:  Was the decision to go to Farragut because of your interest in the military? JP:  No, I think it was more my parents trying to give me some discipline.  [laughter] ... What I remember about it, when I got my acceptance letter, ... I remember being happy about it.  So, it didn't bother me.  It offered me a great education in my 9th grade year, and I did become more disciplined.  It was a good decision to send me there. SH:  Let us talk a bit then about your mother and her family background. JP:  Okay, my mother was born in New York.  ... Both my mother and my father's families settled in Elizabeth first, Elizabeth, New Jersey, and then, my mother came to Rahway later on.  Her father and mother ... emigrated from Russia, ... again, in the late 1800s, early 1900s.  They came to Elizabeth, and then, they opened up a business, their own business, on Third Street in Elizabeth.  It was like a haberdashery store, a dry goods store, that's what they called [it] back in those days.  ... It was called Krevskys Department Store.  She and her sisters didn't go to college.  They all got married, but my uncles all went to college.  One was a dentist, one was a lawyer, one was an electrical engineer and ... the youngest one perished in World War II.  ... SH:  Did your mother talk about that? JP:  No, it was a painful subject with my grandmother.  ... The only thing I knew about it was, he died in the Battle of the Bulge and he's buried in France somewhere. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes.  I remember her saying that Hitler killed her son.  She was a Gold-Star Mother--the honor that was given to mothers who lost their sons in the war. SH:  What was your mother's maiden name? JP:  Krevsky, K-R-E-V-S-K-Y.  That was her maiden name. SH:  Can you tell me how your parents met? JP:  I'm trying to think.  ... My mother said ... my father ... went to the YMCA there, in Elizabeth, and, somehow, somebody ... he knew there ... was going out with a girl and my mother was this girl's friend.  ... [She] tells the story of my father coming to the house for the first time to talk to my mother.  My grandmother answered the door and because he had just come from the gym and was wearing a sweatshirt, my grandmother said, "There's a bum at the door looking for you," [laughter] ... but, yes, they went out for any number of years.  They got married, on January 1, '42, right, you know, after Pearl Harbor.  SH:  Oh, my. JP:  Yes.  My father was thirty-one and my mother was twenty-eight.  They were both a little bit older than the average when they got married.  ... I don't think a lot of people got married young back during the [Great] Depression days and due to economics. SH:  It is interesting that they got married right after Pearl Harbor, four weeks later.  JP:  Yes, yes.  I think that was not unusual.  Young men realized that they would be at war on two fronts for a long time--they saw the writing on the wall. SH:  Did they talk about that at all?  Did that influence their decision to get married then? JP:  I imagine it did, but they never really mentioned it.  They never discussed it much, but I am sure there was a "now or never" attitude at that time.  Also, they had been dating for several years already. SH:  Was it already something that was planned? JP:  Well, they had been going together for, like, three or four years.  I believe they'd been going together for a while, and so, that was the time, because ... he had gone in the service, and then, come back out and, now, he was back in, just like everybody else was, for the duration.  So, they got married.  SH:  Was your mother able to travel with him at all? JP:  Yes.  I think she remembers going down to Fort Lee, Virginia, with him and into North Carolina.  I don't know whether that was the first time [he was in the service] or after they were married.  I tend to think it was after they were married [that] she did, while he was in the United States.  ... When he was shipped out to the Panama Canal, she went home to live with her parents until he came back.  PL:  Speaking more about your childhood, can you tell us about your experiences in elementary school? JP:  Well, I went to Madison School.  I started off in Roosevelt School in Rahway--nothing particularly remarkable about my student career there.  [laughter] Then, I went up to Madison School in Rahway from middle school, and then, like I said, I went to ninth grade at Admiral Farragut Academy, and then, I spent the last three years at Rahway High School.  My grades were, I would say, average, maybe a little above average.  My SAT score, I remember, was over 1000.  This is when, you know, it was [out of a possible] 1600.  Now, again, this is 1963 and a score over 1000 was okay back then.  Today, I don't know if I could get into Rutgers, [laughter] but the other thing I had going for me was, I was captain of the Rahway High School swimming team in my senior year.  So, between that--and I think I got a 1060 or something on my SATs--and my average grades, to this day, I don't understand how I got ... by the admissions at Rutgers, but I did get admitted to Rutgers College, and Rutgers College, back then, was a very highly rated school.  Everybody that didn't live in New Jersey thought it was an Ivy League school, which, of course, it's not, but it had that kind of reputation out of the state back then, in the '60s.  It had a very high [reputation], and it was five thousand men at Rutgers, then. SH:  That many? JP:  Yes, okay, all men. SH:  How many siblings do you have? JP:  I have a brother and two sisters.  My two sisters actually went to Douglass [College, part of Rutgers University].  SH:  Did they? JP:  Yes.  My brother went to Temple University and he's a podiatrist, went to Philadelphia College of Podiatric Medicine.  ... The next sister ... went to Douglass and got a master's degree in, I think, Hebrew University in Israel and she's now a librarian at Princeton.  ... She speaks Hebrew and Arabic, and my younger sister went to Douglass.  She was an art major, and so, she works in that field.  She also has an MFA degree. SH:  Where do you fit in the order? JP:  I'm the oldest.  So, it's me, my brother the podiatrist, my sister who works at Princeton, and then, my sister the artist--that's the span.  SH:  Did you have to work in the family business? JP:  It was my choice.  I worked there when I was in high school.  I started sweeping floors as a young boy.  ... We owned a lumberyard/hardware store then.  I rode on trucks and was a help.  Then, when I got my license, I was a truck driver.  I worked several other jobs, but, most of the time, I did work in the family business in the summers as a teenager. SH:  What about after school? JP:  After high school? SH:  After school in high school, when you finished your classes, did you have to work at your father's business? JP:  No.  Well, okay, Rahway High School--we'll talk about high school--back then, was on split sessions.  Half of us went seven [AM] to twelve [PM].  The other half went, like, one [PM] to five [PM].  There were so many [students], yes, they split the sessions.  So, I was in the morning session.  So, I went to swimming practice at five o'clock in the morning at the Rahway Y [YMCA], for the swimming team.  Then, we went to school and I was home at about twelve-thirty, and I really didn't go right to work.  I came home and it was a tough day already.  I'd been up from down, you know, first, you had ... swimming practice for an hour, hour-and-a-half, and then, five, six hours of school.  So, most of the time, I worked only in the summers.  I don't really remember working after school. SH:  Did your mother work outside of the home? JP:  Yes, my mother worked in her parents' store for a time.  Then, ... I guess when they moved to Rahway, when she started having the children, she was home, and then, she had various jobs.  She worked.  She was a volunteer for several things.  She did Braille.  ... She worked in several stores for a while, and then, after we were all out of the house and she got into her sixties, she started her own business, an antique business, and carried that on for almost thirty years.  She's ninety-six now.  ... She lives alone.  She still drives, but she's not doing her business anymore, but, yes, she had quite a career. SH:  Were there community service groups that your family was involved in? JP:  My mother was involved with the Temple Sisterhood for a time, and, like I said, the Braille, she transcribed books into Braille.  ... I don't know how she got interested in it, but ... that's what she did for a time.  My father was totally committed to the business.  ... Besides the lumber/hardware business, the retail end, we were also builders, built homes.  We developed property, land, down the Shore, Jersey Shore, the Seaside Heights area, and so, he was totally committed to the business.  SH:  It was a "twenty-four/seven" type job. JP:  Pretty much, yes.  He loved it.  [laughter] PL:  Did you have a television at home? JP:  Yes.  Oh, well, ... I remember getting the TV.  The first TV was almost like a piece of furniture.  It had doors that folded in the front and it was black and white.  Yes, I remember that, sure.  That was in the early '50s, when it first started, sure. PL:  Did you like watching TV shows? JP:  I remember Howdy Doody [a children's television show broadcast between 1947-1960], okay, all right. [laughter] I remember, boy, The Roy Rogers Show.  You know, Nellybelle was the Jeep, right.  ... The jeep had a name, I think it was Nellybelle.  I watched all the early programs that were broadcast.  [Editor's Note: The Roy Rogers Show, a Western television series broadcast from 1951 to 1957, featured a World War II jeep, Nellybelle.] SH:  Was television still a novelty?  JP:  Yes, I mean, yes, and, ... again, it was black and white.  ... I can remember, we moved ... from one house to ... the next house.  We had a den, but, then, we'd all sit--the family would sit--in there and we'd watch Sid Caesar [a popular sketch comedy performer featured on Your Show of Shows and Caesar's Hour in the 1950s] and some of these other shows, you know, as a family.  Jackie Gleason, I Love Lucy--all those shows. SH:  Did your family eat dinner and watch television as well? JP:  No, no.  ... We didn't have a TV in the kitchen.  We did much later on, but, in the early days, we had the den and we all would sit in there.  We did not eat dinner in the den. SH:  Was there a family tradition of having to be home for dinner?  What were some of your family's traditions?  JP:  Well, with my father, you know, working a lot and my mother in and out, I don't know that we had any particular tradition.  I mean, we had some religious holidays that we would always [observe].  Either at my grandparents' house, and then, at our house, we would have Passovers and things like that, but, on a day-to-day basis, it was, you know, ... you do the best you can.  [laughter] But my mother usually did have the table set and we ate most dinners together until we were older and sometimes had outside activities.  My dad was home by 6:50, this is when we ate. SH:  Growing up in Elizabeth and Rahway, did you have a large extended family? JP:  Yes.  ... I had seventeen cousins on my mother's side.  There were twenty-one of us.  I had seventeen cousins and the four of us in my family.  So, yes, we would all get together, and then, all the kids would be running around, and we did it at my grandparents' house in Elizabeth and, almost every [day], go over to an uncle's house, whatever.  ... Actually, there's a Rahway County Park in Rahway.  We used to go there for a family picnic once a year.  My grandparents would reserve a grove.  I don't know if you've ever been there, but they have these picnic groves in that park and we would go there as a family and have a family picnic.  ... I remember that as a young child.  On my father's side I had eight cousins.  We did not get together as often as on my mother's side, but we were all very friendly, and did see each other on certain occasions. SH:  Did your family go on vacations? JP:  I really don't [remember].  They tell me that we went on certain day-trip vacations, but I was so young, I don't remember.  ... Then, I really don't remember going on family vacations when I became old enough to remember things.  I'm going to have to think about that one for a while.  [laughter] ... When I was younger, ... as opposed to an actual vacation, we would go to the mountains.  We would go up in the Watchung [Mountains].  They had the swimming clubs up there and cabins and, every summer, we would rent a cabin, you know.  So, I guess that would be considered a vacation, although it was only twenty or twenty-five [minutes].  As a young child, it seemed like it was forever to drive [in] a car, [laughter] but it was up on top of the Watchung Mountains.  So, yes, okay, that would, I guess, ... count as a family vacation.  SH:  Is that when you got interested in swimming? JP:  Yes, I was on the [team].  We had the swim club up there and I was on the swimming team, you know, for the club.  ... We had a pool, a couple of pools, in the area where I lived--the Oakcrest Swim Club and Ash Brook Swim Club, which was in the Edison area--and I was on their swim teams.  ... When I went to Admiral Farragut Academy, they didn't have a swim team and I was really disappointed, and then, when I came back, I swam sophomore, junior, senior year for Rahway High School.  PL:  That is really surprising, that they did not have a swim team at Farragut. JP:  Yes, you would think so.  They had a football team and gymnastics.  They had a bunch of stuff, but they didn't have a swimming team.  They probably had a pool, I'm trying to remember, but I know they did not have a team and I know that was really upsetting, one of the reasons why I left, because I wanted to swim in competition.  PL:  When you were in school, do you recall practicing duck-and-cover drills? JP:  Yes, I remember that.  In elementary school, we would have to get under our desks.  I was trying to think--I think I remember--I remember stamps.  We would buy war, not war bonds, but stamps, or something like that, and put them in a book.  It was a way of saving, you know, for whatever, for ... financing the government. Somehow, I remember those stamps, sort of like [Sperry and Hutchinson] Green [Trading] Stamps, you know, but not.  It was sold in the schools and I remember that we had closets in the back of the room.  ... Sometimes, we'd go in the closets and hide, yes, absolutely. SH:  You remember the drills.  JP:  Yes. SH:  Was your family observant of your faith?  Did you keep a kosher home? JP:  My mother tried to keep a kosher home as much as she could, kosher food, separate dishes, et cetera.  We also observed Passover, Yom Kippur, et cetera.  My mother's family was more into that part of their lives.  My father's family was not.  ... In other words, my father worked on Saturday.  We weren't Orthodox Jews, we were actually Conservative Jews, ... which is in the middle--Reformed, Conservative, Orthodox.  We were in [the middle].  Our temple in Rahway was Conservative.  ... SH:  Growing up, did you ever suffer from any anti-Semitism? JP:  Not that I remember.  We had a big community in the town, which no longer exists, in Rahway.  The temple's been sold.  Most of the people have moved away, but, back in those days, we actually had a church basketball league, but it was [part of] the synagogue.  ... We would go to other churches and play.  ... You know, it was pretty easygoing in that regard, yes.  SH:  Do you remember anything about the Civil Rights Movement? JP:  Well, I remember, you know, seeing it on TV.  Being from up here, ... you know, the North was already ahead of that power curve.  We didn't have those kind of problems here, ... like they had down in the South with segregation.  So, you know, we followed it.  I don't remember it being a big, big deal.  It became a big deal, but, in the beginning, it was nothing that ... caught my attention.  I witnessed more of it when I moved to the South in the military--such things as separate Greyhound bus station waiting rooms, water fountains, et cetera. SH:  Did your family follow politics at all? JP:  My grandparents on my mother's side were lovers of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, because of the Depression and because they felt that he saved them from going under.  So, they became Democrats.  My mother's only living brother, though he's an attorney, he's still a rabid Democrat.  ... He came out of that side of the family.  The other side--my father's side--were not that political, but my dad did vote Republican the last few elections in his life. SH:  Did you follow politics while you attended school? JP:  Well, you know, I graduated high school in 1963.  That's kind of before Vietnam came on the scene and all the protesting, and the Civil Rights Movement.  I actually [did], yes, in high school, right.  SH:  Did you follow the 1960 Presidential Election? JP:  Yes.  ... I remember, we all liked Kennedy.  ... Those of us that ... became Republicans and all that, still, back then, ... if we could vote, we would have voted for Kennedy.  We really liked him.  He was young, and the PT-109thing and all that, so, yes.  [Editor's Note: John F. Kennedy commanded PT-109 in the Pacific during World War II, which was destroyed in combat against the Japanese.  Kennedy's heroic actions led to his crew's survival and later contributed to his image as a war hero during his political career.]  Of course, I was young and more idealistic then, but I would not vote for him today.  Nixon would have made a better president for that time. SH:  Do you remember the day he was assassinated? JP:  I was in Rutgers University, at the language lab, listening to an Italian tape, when he, whoever was running that lab, stopped the tape and said the President had been shot.  We all went back to our dorms and we were gathered in the--behind Demarest, there's a quad, right?  ... The history building was there at that time--forget the name of it--and there was a quad. SH:  Bishop House. JP:  Bishop House, was that it? yes, okay, just like this one, [18 Bishop Place].  Anyway, yes, we were there and I actually have a picture somewhere home.  Targum took a picture of all the kids gathering there and ... there's a picture of me standing in the background with my hands on my hips--no doubt deep in thought.  It was a terrible day.  I was [there].  The only reason I could definitely identify myself [is], I was wearing my high school letter jacket.  ... So, yes, it was a really, really bad day here at Rutgers, I'm sure everywhere.  I remember, ... it was the only time they did away with [classes], stopped classes.  They didn't have classes.  Talking about the technology, we watched the funeral, and I think I watched Jack Ruby kill Oswald on TV.  It was a black-and-white TV with "rabbit ears" [antennae] and we watched it.  I don't know if it was at "The Ledge" or somewhere in somebody's room, because we didn't have TVs in the rooms.  ... By today's standards, it was pretty Spartan.  [laughter] [Editor's Note: Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas.  Lee Harvey Oswald, the primary suspect in the assassination, was himself killed by Jack Ruby on live television days later.] PL:  Demarest is still pretty Spartan. JP:  Yes.  PL:  You rarely get cellphone service in there. JP:  Yes.  Well, we had a payphone, one payphone for twenty-five guys, or something like that, and we couldn't have girls in the room.  ... We had a radio and we had no TVs, I know that.  I mean, like I said, when Kennedy was assassinated, we had to find a TV somewhere. SH:  You were a freshman. JP:  Yes.  SH:  How did you make the decision to come to Rutgers? JP:  How I did it?  Well, okay, I applied only to four schools. SH:  You had always expected to go to college. JP:  Yes.  In my family, it was [the case that] nobody ever said you had to go to college, because it was just assumed.  I mean, I don't ever remember wanting to do anything else after graduation from high school.  So, my grades and SATs weren't stellar, obviously, but I applied to Union.  We used to call it Union County--it was called a junior college then, now, it's community, four-year community college--but ... we called it "UC Juicy."  [laughter] So, that's what we called it and ... I got in there.  I got into Monmouth College, I got into Temple University and I got in at Rutgers College.  I actually wanted to go to Temple University, because Temple had a Naval ROTC program and I just liked Philadelphia.  ... When I went down there, they didn't have a room, a dorm room, for me. So, I thought about it and I decided to come to Rutgers, and [it was] the right decision.  [laughter] SH:  Were you planning to swim in college? JP:  No, no, I wasn't recruited.  I wasn't--I was good in high school, but not good enough to compete on that level here, okay.  However, I will say this.  Back then, at Rutgers, I don't know if you still do, you had to take two years of gym or physical education and pass it.  ... It was a "pass/fail," not a graded course, and my first year at the gym, ... the pool was in the Student Center now on College Avenue, ... I took a lifesaving course and, the second year I was here, my sophomore year, I taught gym.  I taught swimming to other [students], to freshmen.  So, that was interesting. SH:  You must have been pretty good. JP:  Yes, I was pretty good at lifesaving. SH:  Did you ever think of becoming a lifeguard? JP:  No, no, but I did do that here.  It was just [that] rather than having to take physical education, I got to teach it.  PL:  Can you tell me about living in Demarest Hall? JP:  Yes.  It was, you know, a really nice building.  I remember I liked it because it was colonial in architecture.  PL:  It was a relatively new building at the time.  [Editor's Note: Built in 1950-1951, Demarest Hall served originally as a dormitory for Rutgers freshman and, later, football players and special-interest students.] JP:  Yes, it was in '63.  It was really, really nice.  ... Like I said, we had a floor.  Our floor had twenty-five or twenty-seven guys, with something called a preceptor.  I don't know if you still have that here. PL:  Yes, we still do. JP:  Okay.  My preceptor was a guy named Bob Norton, who was captain of the Rutgers Football Team back then, and ... one of the freshmen on my floor was a guy named Jack Emmer.  Jack Emmer ... played football for Rutgers, went on to become the Army lacrosse coach for about twenty years and, in fact, just as a back story, Jack came to my home to recruit my son ... to go to West Point, but my son chose the Air Force Academy.  ... It's funny how things come back, you know, things that happened early on in your life.  You run into these people again.  ... Yes, Demarest, I liked it.  It was nicely located at that time, [near] what was called Records Hall. PL:  Yes. JP:  That was where we ate.  That was our dining facility. PL:  That was the dining hall. JP:  Yes, and it was Spartan.  It was, like, World War II-ish, yes, and the food wasn't all that great.  PL:  It is still not that great. JP:  And the Student Center was called "The Ledge."  I don't know if you still call that building "The Ledge." SH:  They call it the Student Activities Center [SAC] now. JP:  Okay, yes, and they actually had dances and entertainment up on the roof. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes. SH:  Did they actually use the roof? JP:  Yes, yes, they did.  PL:  There is still a staircase going up to the roof. JP:  Yes, and they had a cafeteria in there.  It was interesting the way they did it.  You would get in line and you would place your order on a piece of paper and they'd write your name on it and they'd hang it up, and then, they'd keep moving it down this wire until [it reached] the other end.  When your food was cooked, they'd call you by name.  [laughter] That's how it worked back then.  SH:  Was there an initiation for freshmen? JP:  Yes, every freshman had to wear a dink and a tie. SH:  Any color tie or a specific type of tie? JP:  No, it was special.  I think it was a Rutgers tie and a red dink--which was a hat, sort of a Robin Hood-ish type hat, without the feather--and we'd have to wear them.  I forget how long it was, but, yes; I don't think you could get the kids to do that today.  [laughter] SH:  Was there a competition between the sophomores and the freshmen? JP:  ... I'm trying to think.  ... They used to bus us up for flag football up at the University [Heights], what's called, you know, the University Heights up there.  I don't know if that was required or we just did it, ... yes. SH:  Were there any other activities? JP:  I don't remember that.  ... Yes, I remember the flag football up there. SH:  Were there mixers with the students who attended Douglass College? JP:  Yes, I remember going over there and they had dances at the student center over there, and hanging out. [laughter] SH:  When you came to Rutgers in 1963, was ROTC still mandatory? JP:  No.  ROTC, up until probably, I don't know, the year, I want to say '60-'61, everybody who was, I guess, physically qualified had to do the first two years of ROTC, and then, you could make a decision either to continue on or not continue on with no penalty, you know, not like a service academy, ... but, when I got there, it was not mandatory.  ... In fact, I did not join ROTC because Vietnam was not an issue at that time.  I was more interested in the Navy, still, at that time, than I was in the Army or the [Air Force].  We had Air Force ROTC here and, in 1964, the middle of my sophomore year, now, Vietnam was on the horizon, and I had no plans to go to graduate school.  So, I looked into joining ROTC and they had something called the "Compression Student," which meant I took the four years in two-and-a-half.  They compressed it for me.  ... I didn't go to summer camp until after I graduated.  So, I graduated Rutgers, went to summer camp after I graduated and got commissioned at summer camp, as opposed ... SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, to doing it here on campus, yes. SH:  How many students took the compressed curriculum? JP:  I don't know, but there was a bunch.  A lot of guys made the decision later on, especially.  I imagine that was common during that time, because, like I say, when I got there, Vietnam was not a factor.  A year later, it was very big. SH:  I had never heard of the compressed ROTC curriculum before this interview. JP:  Yes, it's called a "Compression Student."  I remember going in and talking to a couple of majors who were here, and they were both Southerners--a lot of Southerners in the Army back then.  The professor of military science was a guy named Colonel [John J.] Pidgeon, and I thought--I didn't know whether I was joining the Army or the Confederacy there for a while, [laughter]--but yes, they really helped me.  ... Later on, I think [in] my junior year, a friend of mine had gotten his pilot [license], an older friend of mine had gotten his pilot's license, and took me flying in a single-engine plane and I liked it.  ... They had an Army ROTC flight program here at Rutgers.  Both Air Force and Army had this program. SH:  Really? JP:  And so, ... what you would do is, ... you had to take a test and a physical, and, if you qualified, you'd get your [license].  They sent us out to Somerset Airport and we'd get forty hours of flight instruction, enough to get your private pilot, single-engine land [rating], and they'd provide you with enough information to get your written test passed.  So, before I graduated college, I actually had my pilot's license, and it was done [for] free and you had a certain amount of Army guys do it and a certain amount of Air Force guys do it.  ... What that did for you was, it guaranteed you a slot in flight school, so that I knew, when I graduated, I'd go to officer training school, branch training, because you had to go to Infantry, Armor, whatever branch you were commissioned in, for three months, and then, you would go directly from there to flight school.  So, I spent a year in the United States prior to going to Vietnam. PL:  Was there any competition between Air Force and Army cadets? JP:  Friendly.  No, there were twenty-six [hundred cadets].  There were five thousand guys at Rutgers.  Twenty-six hundred, more than half, were in ROTC.  When we formed up for a parade ... or whatever, we would cover the street from the Alexander Library to the other side of the gym.  There were a lot of guys in ROTC--more Army than Air Force, but Air Force was substantial, too.  Well, yes, we all got [along].  There was no kind of inter-service rivalry, I don't think.  I don't remember anything like that between the guys. SH:  You had an interest in flying even before you went into ROTC. JP:  Right, right, ... just one of those things you get interested in when you're young and I saw an opportunity to do it for free. SH:  Did the space program increase your interest in aviation? JP:  Yes, that [may have been a factor].  I mean, I remember following, you know, the Apollos and the Mercurysand all, and ... all those chutes and all the rockets.  I remember watching all the rockets that failed.  People don't remember that we failed more often than not in the beginning.  You see the rockets go up, and then, come down and explode on the pad, and I remember that, but that was a separate issue.  It never occurred to me to connect those two things. SH:  You were not interested in participating in the space program at any point. JP:  No, no.  I was lucky to be able to fly a little plane, never mind in space.  [laughter] PL:  Did you notice any antiwar activities on campus as the Vietnam War escalated?  Did you know anyone who participated? JP:  Oh, yes.  My faculty advisor was a Professor Eugene Genovese, I think his name was, who went from here, I think, ... taught at McGill in Canada, later on, but he was my faculty advisor in the History Department.  He was a history professor and he was the guy that led the sit-ins.  We used to have sit-ins in the gym, you know, the anti-war types.  ... On the very few occasions when I had to see him for an issue, it turns out it was always on drill day, which means I had to go in my uniform to see the guy, [laughter] but he was very good and we never had a problem.  ... As I remember, whatever issues I had were resolved by him or he told me what to do.  So, no, ... I didn't have any problem that way.  [Editor's Note: Historian Eugene Genovese took a pro-Vietcong stance during a teach-in at Rutgers University in 1965, which led to criticism from New Jersey politicians.  The Rutgers administration defended Genovese for exercising his academic freedom.  Genovese later taught at Sir George Williams University in Montreal between 1967 and 1969 before moving on to other universities.] SH:  He never made any comments about you being in a military uniform. JP:  No, no, it wasn't [confrontational].  At Rutgers University, the anti-war movement was not violent.  I mean, I remember, at Columbia, they had taken over buildings and things like that, but there were protests and they had these sit-ins, but it wasn't of a violent [nature].  At least when I left, in '67, it was not of a violent nature here on this campus. SH:  Were there teach-ins? JP:  Teach-ins, sit-ins, yes.  ... That was the expression of the anti-war types.  They had--the kids, you know, you had the term, back then in the early '60s, was beatniks--the kids that ... went around with [protest signs].  They'd put signs in their windows.  They were pre-hippies.  ... When we were in drill, some of them would come around and put flowers in our rifle, things like that, but ... there was nothing of a violent nature here at this campus.  SH:  How integrated was the student body? JP:  Not very.  This guy I know, and I remember his name for some reason, Elijah Miller, was a high jumper and he was African-American and some, a lot, of the athletes, ... you know, were African-American, but it wasn't, back in those days, ... that much of mix, I would say, [to] put it that way.  It was not reflective of the society in general and, when you talk about ... whatever the society mix was here in New Jersey, because you're talking about a state college, ... I would say it was mostly white back then. SH:  Was there a rivalry between Rutgers College and the other colleges in the University system? JP:  Not particularly.  I mean, we were of the opinion that Rutgers College was the best school of Rutgers University, "Rutgers-Camden, no-no.  Rutgers-Newark, eh.  Rutgers College!"  ... That's what I remember thinking, that, you know, if you ... went to Rutgers College, that would differentiate you, okay, from other Rutgers schools.  ... Douglass had a good reputation, I mean, but that was different.  That was girls, this was boys, okay. So, we're talking [about different systems].  ... The "Aggies," [students at the College of Agriculture], I don't remember, you know, any particular problem or anything like that. SH:  Had Livingston College been formed yet? JP:  No.  The only thing that was over on the University Heights back then, as I remember it, was [that] the football stadium was over there.  They had something there called the Van de Graaff accelerator.  I don't know if it's still there or not.  Van de Graaff, it was some kind of thing that was here, science thing, that split atoms, I don't know, was called the Van de Graaff [particle] accelerator [used in science experiments]. PL:  It is interesting to imagine that we actually had a particle accelerator on campus. JP:  Right, yes, and the Physics Department, I remember taking physics up there.  There was a physics building up there and I don't think there was much more than that up there.  I remember a lot of athletic fields there, but not many buildings. SH:  What was your major? JP:  History. SH:  History was your major.  JP:  [Yes]. SH:  Did you have a minor? JP:  Art history. SH:  How did you get interested in art history as your minor? JP:  Well, I took Art 101, 102, as, you know, part of the required, you know, liberal arts [curriculum at] Rutgers. You had to take a foreign language.  I don't know if it's still the same, but we had to take phys. ed.--you had it for two years--a foreign language for two years, a math or science, one each or both, whatever, for two years.  So, I took geology and "Physics For Idiots," what we called it.  [laughter] ... No, it was three kinds of physics courses here at Rutgers--two-credit physics, three-credit physics and four-credit physics.  Four-credit physics was for ... people who maybe wanted to be physics majors, had a lab.  Two-credit physics was for physics majors.  That was purely, I think, theoretical physics.  Three-credit physics was for people who wanted to take it to meet the requirement, the science requirement.  Therefore, we called it "Physics For Idiots."  [laughter] Okay, so, I took physics and I took geology.  I didn't like math, ... and I'm off on a tangent here.  What was the question?  I'm sorry. SH:  I was asking about your major and your minor. JP:  Oh, how I got hooked up now?  So, you had to take sociology.  I took sociology and the other thing was that I took Art 101, 102, and I really liked it.  ... From there, ... I just started taking art courses that interested me--"Italian Renaissance Sculpture," "Rococo Art," "Renaissance Painting"--a flurry of art courses that I enjoyed. SH:  Do you think a liberal arts education is important? JP:  Yes, yes, I mean, ... unless somebody says, "I want to be a scientist or a doctor."  Then, you have to go a different route, okay.  You have to load up your college [schedule] with those kinds of courses.  However, if you go into college and you don't know what you want to be, or even if you know, like, for instance, if you want to be a lawyer, because both my sons are lawyers, still, liberal arts is the foundation for that.  Okay, so, yes, I believe that it's a good way to go, ... especially for those that don't have a direction yet.  SH:  What was the interaction like between the faculty and administration and the students? JP:  Well, I was a friend of Mason Gross.  Mason Gross was not a building then--he was a human being. [laughter] [Editor's Note: Mason Gross was the Sixteenth President of Rutgers University, serving from 1959 to 1971.] SH:  Well put. JP:  And he would wander the campus, and, for some reason, he and I would interact, bump into one another, and we'd start [talking].  He would stop me.  He was very [nice], you know, nice guy, friendly, interested in students. He would stop and he would talk to you, and, I remember, he showed up at a few football games ... and we bumped into [each other] again.  ... He recognized me.  We weren't friends by any stretch, but he was very friendly and, yes, you know, it was good.  ... I liked all my professors.  ... A lot of them were really good people.  I don't remember, you know, any particular problem with the faculty.  It was a very good experience, I thought. SH:  Who was your favorite professor? JP:  Professor, Doctor, Peter Charanis in the History Department. SH:  Why was he your favorite? JP:  Well, let's put it this way: when he gave a lecture--he was in Byzantine history--when he gave a lecture, certain lectures, there might be a hundred people in the class, there'd be three hundred people in the lecture hall.  ... He would do the "Dance of Theodora" and other things, that were popular lectures, that were well-known lectures. He was great.  Yes, he was. SH:  He lectured in Bishop House. JP:  Scott Hall.  He might have done some classes there, too.  ... One of my professors was a guy named Dr. McCormick, whose son has done pretty well here at Rutgers, [laughter] ... yes, but I only had him for one course. [Editor's Note: Richard P. McCormick and his son, Richard L. McCormick, were professors in the History Department.  Richard L. McCormick went on to become President of Rutgers University in 2002.] PL:  Which history courses did you take at Rutgers? JP:  Well, I could start with Dr. McCormick, "The Intellectual History of Modern Europe."  That was an interesting course.  Let's see, "Byzantine History;" boy, you've really got me on the spot.  "American Economic History," Sidney Ratner was the professor, you know, like that.  I took "The History of England" at Douglass, for obvious reasons.  [laughter] It was the only course ... offered at Douglass that a history major could take.  So, I went over there, ... yes, and there's other ones, ... if I had my transcripts, and I should have brought my transcripts, but I didn't. SH:  Were there convocations when prominent speakers would come to campus? JP:  Nothing that I remember.  There might have been, but I certainly don't remember.  I remember they had certain musical groups here.  Kingston Trio was here, I remember that.  SH:  Were they? JP:  [Yes].  [laughter] That's about all I remember. SH:  Did they still have the Military Ball? JP:  They might have, but I don't remember going to it. SH:  Were there any other organized dances that you recall? JP:  There might well have been, but I don't remember.  PL:  Were you involved in any student organizations? JP:  No, just ROTC. SH:  Let us move on to your later career at Rutgers, which coincides with the escalating Vietnam War.  By your senior year, you were a "Compression Student." JP:  Yes, I was a "Compression Student," for ROTC. SH:  How was the Vietnam War discussed on campus?  Was it discussed in your classes? JP:  I don't remember any of our classes taking a political bent, or whatever you want to call it.  I mean, now, you know, people complain that college professors are all leftists or whatever and try to indoctrinate students.  I don't know if that's what you're getting at, but I don't remember ... that kind of indoctrination, either pro-war or anti-war.  ... You know, Rutgers, I come back to the idea that Rutgers was an "Ivy League-ish," college and it was a different atmosphere.  ... I don't remember any kind of that [activity], that kind, although I'm sure these people, you know, the professors, had their political [views], whatever, but they didn't try to pass it on to us, that I remember. SH:  Did you ever consider joining a fraternity? JP:  No.  I was what was known as a "GDI."  I don't know if you've heard that expression, okay. PL:  Can you explain what a GDI is? JP:  Yes, it means a "God Damn Independent."  [laughter] ... That's what we called it back then, although I've been known to attend a few fraternity parties and I had friends from my high school that were here before me that were in various fraternities, and I had friends of mine from ... my Demarest days who went on into fraternities.  ... So, I would go over, but I never tried to join one.  I was never--what's the term they use, recruited? SH:  Rushed. JP:  Rushed, right, or whatever, yes, for whatever reason.  That's fine.  It was fine with me.  SH:  Were you involved in any fundraising during your time at Rutgers? JP:  No, no.  ... The one tradition that continues to endure is spring break.  We did go to Florida.  [laughter] SH:  You went to Florida. JP:  Yes, six of us in the car, yes. SH:  Did you have a car on campus? JP:  No, freshmen couldn't have cars because of the parking problem, and I think my last year, [the] one year I lived in an apartment in Piscataway, I had a car.  ... Then, my last year, I commuted from home, ... but I didn't actually ever have a car here on campus.  ... SH:  You became a commuter. JP:  Well, in my senior year, because of [my schedule].  I had taken a full load of courses, five courses, every semester.  When I got to my senior year, I took--it was part of this ROTC thing--"ROTC MS3," "MS4," were three-credit courses, just was like any other three-credit course.  It was a full course, [similar to a course in] history, whatever else, okay.  So, I only had, in my two senior semesters, ... three regular courses and ROTC.  I took four courses.  As a result, I didn't go to school on Friday.  You know, ... kids schedule themselves, when they can, so that they don't have to go to class on Friday or Monday, whatever they do.  ... Then, some days, you'd come down here and I'd only have two periods in a day.  I'd be done at twelve or one.  ... I didn't want to live in an apartment anymore.  I didn't want to live in a dorm.  The dorm thing kind of got old in a hurry, and so, ... I decided to commute from home.  It was no big deal.  I got snowed in a couple times.  I was able to stay with my buddies, on the "river dorms," who lived here.  [Editor's Note: The "river dorms," Campbell, Hardenbergh and Frelinghuysen Halls, are dormitories on the College Avenue Campus along the banks of the Raritan River.]  So, yes, it was really no problem. PL:  I know that, in the spring and early fall, it gets really warm here.  In Demarest, it is quite an experience.  Did you have any problems with the heat or the cold?  JP:  Yes, you opened the windows.  [laughter] It's about all you could do, yes.  ... I don't remember being uncomfortable like that, but ... we didn't have, certainly didn't have, air-conditioning or anything like that--you know, just open the windows.  We didn't spend a lot of time in the dorm.  I remember being at the library a lot or hanging out in, you know, other places, and being at "The Ledge," or whatever. SH:  Do you recall any political events affecting the campus during your time at Rutgers? JP:  ... Kennedy's assassination, I would say. SH:  I just wondered if there was another big event. JP:  Nothing of that magnitude.  SH:  Yes, it would be hard to top. JP:  You know, [that would] be like Pearl Harbor, you know.  Everybody remembers where they were [for] Pearl Harbor, [the December 7, 1941 attack], and everybody remembers where they were when Kennedy was assassinated. SH:  What did you think of President Johnson? JP:  It's hard.  You know, what I think of him now is a whole [different story]. SH:  That is what I mean--can you step back and remember what you thought then? JP:  Yes.  I remember seeing him, on TV, taking the oath on the plane.  [Editor's Note: Lyndon B. Johnson, after President Kennedy's assassination, took the oath of office on Air Force One, which became one of the iconic images of the day's events.]  I remember him being from Texas.  I didn't really know much about liberal politics or conservative politics back then.  It's not like it is today.  So, I didn't really give it ... a whole heck of a lot of thought at this point.  As the years went by you take the oath of a soldier and so, you do what you're supposed to do.  You know, back then, there was no [reaction]--because Johnson became President, I didn't quit ROTC or anything like that.  ... SH:  There was no sense of animosity. JP:  Not with me.  I'm not saying other people [felt that way], but, well, with me, I didn't.  ... When you are that young you usually have a sense of trust. SH:  Very few people know much about the Vice-President. JP:  Yes.  I know I remember Spiro Agnew, but that [was much later].  [laughter] [Editor's Note: Spiro Agnew served as Vice-President under President Richard Nixon between 1969 and 1973, when he resigned from office amid a bribery and tax evasion scandal.]  Do you? no, okay--pointing at the student interviewer, okay.  PL:  I think I am a bit young.  [laughter] SH:  What were your plans for after college?  Did joining the service figure into your plans? JP:  Yes.  I had no plans to go to graduate school, none whatsoever, at this time.  So, I had configured it so that I would go into the military.  ... Between my flight training program and what I knew I had to do in officer's school, that was a year.  ... I was hoping, you know, [in] '67, by the time I'd finished all my training, the war'd be over--wrong.  [laughter] That didn't work out well, but I had a four-year commitment.  So, I knew that when you took flight--normally, ROTC, if you didn't do anything extra special, you had a two-year commitment.  You graduate, you enter active duty, you'd have two years active, and then, four years in the Reserve.  It was the standard way to go, but, if you were in flight school, flight training, you had to give four years. SH:  You knew of the commitment before going into the service. JP:  Right.  So, I had my next four years, ... you know, laid on for me.  I knew what I might do.  I was happy with it. SH:  You knew you would go into the service right away. JP:  Actually, as I told you, I graduated in June of '67, but I didn't go to my "summer camp," was what we called it then, until July of that year.  ... I was commissioned at the end of July in '67.  So, I didn't get my orders [right away].  Once I was commissioned, I got my orders.  I went on active duty, actually, in January of '68, I started. So, I had almost a six-month period before I got my orders. SH:  What did you do during that time?  Was it hard to get a job? JP:  No, it wasn't.  [laughter] SH:  I wondered if there would be any reluctance to hire someone who was going into the service. JP:  I went to--interesting, I haven't thought about this in a long time--I went to an agency and I got a job with a company called Liberty Mutual Insurance Company, as a claims adjuster.  ... I spent two weeks in Boston and six weeks in Philadelphia for training, and I worked out of their East Orange office ... until I entered the service.  ... Somehow, they hired me and I did that for about four, five months, and then, went into active duty.  PL:  What was working for Liberty Mutual like at the time? JP:  It was interesting.  It was a lot of fun.  I mean, you know, don't forget, I was young.  Two weeks in Boston, all expenses paid, [laughter] wasn't too terrible.  Six weeks in Pennsylvania, in Philly, they put us up and [we would] get an expense account.  ... It was interesting training.  It was a job, claims adjuster, in auto--a liability adjuster is what I was.  ... It was an interesting experience while I did it.  I learned a lot. [TAPE PAUSED] SH:  Please, continue. JP:  Okay, [I was] just talking some more about Rutgers.  It was a tradition, football games, now that football's really big at Rutgers now, but, back then, we played Princeton every year at Princeton.  ... The tradition was, we would get all dressed up, jackets, ties, pretending to be "Ivy League-ish," ... when we went to the game, the Rutgers-Princeton football game.  We'd go down to Princeton, trying to look like them.  It was sort of [a prank]. [laughter] So, I remember, one of the guys on our floor wore to the Princeton game plaid Bermuda shorts, some kind of a flaky shirt with a bowtie, and do you know what saddle shoes are, the brown [shoes]? SH:  Yes. JP:  Yes, he wore saddle shoes, [laughter] Bermuda shorts, and it was very interesting.  ... Yes, that was our wild streak back in those days, going to the Princeton football game.  [laughter] Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead. SH:  What about the Targum?  JP:  Targum was, you know, very well done, I thought, back then, even today, and they had the Mugrat.  I don't know if they still do the Mugrat.  [Editor's Note: The Targum, Rutgers' student newspaper, produces a satirical fake issue each semester entitled the Mugrat.] PL:  They still do the Mugrat.  JP:  Okay.  I remember my first Mugrat, first semester freshman year, big article--I didn't see the word Mugrat--"Women To Be Allowed In Dorms."  Everybody was going with this.  [laughter] ... PL:  There was an article in the Mugrat, just last year, on introducing co-ed rooms.  [laughter] JP:  Well, it would've had the same net effect if they said we were going to separate them out.  This was where they were going to allow women in your room, you know.  ... So, that was my first [experience with the Mugrat].  You know, it was well done, really was.  I think some of them, and I'm not a hundred percent sure, but some of the people that worked on the Targum went on to be professional people in that field.  It was well done. SH:  Did the Targum report in a manner that was anti-fraternity or pro-fraternity? JP:  Oh, I remember some articles like that.  Honestly, the only Targum I ever kept was the one that [was published] the day that Kennedy died.  I should have brought it.  I didn't really think [to do so].  I have it home somewhere, yes. SH:  Before we leave Rutgers, are there any other questions? PL:  Let us continue on. JP:  Okay. SH:  You talked about the six months where you were working for Liberty Mutual.  JP:  Right. SH:  When did you first find out when and where you were going to report? JP:  Well, I didn't get my orders until--I think I got them on my birthday.  That would be December of '67, right.  I remember, I had a ... SH:  Some birthday present.  [laughter] JP:  Yes.  Well, I knew they were coming.  I just didn't have the official orders until I went to the post office.  They came and I had to sign for them.  It was certified mail.  I mean, I'm eighteen years old, or, no, ... I guess I was twenty-one at this time, but I never got a certified letter [before].  ... So, I went to the post office and opened them up and it was, "Report to Fort Benning for infantry officer basic.  Report to Fort Wolters, Texas, for flight school. Report to Fort Rucker for flight school.  Re-assigned to what was called USARV," which was the generic [term], was United States Army Republic of Vietnam, which we called USARV, which was just a generic assignment.  ... Once you got to Vietnam, they put you in your particular unit.  So, I got my orders in December. SH:  You knew from that first set of orders where you would be going eventually. JP:  I knew I would be going to school, my schooling, and I knew I'd be assigned to Vietnam.  I just didn't know exactly where I'd wind up once I got to Vietnam. SH:  I did not realize that.  I thought you just went from school to school.  JP:  No. SH:  You knew right away. JP:  Yes, well, because I was [in] the flight program and ... that was the deal.  You'd go right from your officer basic to your [flight training].  Flight school was split then--four months at Fort Wolters, four months at Fort Rucker. SH:  How difficult was the transition from flying as a civilian to flying in the military? JP:  Well, actually, ninety-five percent of the people who went to flight school did not have prior flight instruction. So, it gave me a little edge, I think.  I mean, the ground school was [easy].  I had already ... learned about navigation, certain things that you learned that I already had, having a leg up on it.  ... I was actually an honor graduate from flight school.  I think I was second or third in my class, ... you know, not because I was anything great, but because I had the advantage over a lot of them. PL:  Did flight school prepare you well for your transition to rotary-wing aircraft? JP:  Well, flight school was all rotary-wing back then.  I don't know if that's what you mean.  PL:  Because you were a pilot on fixed-wing aircraft. JP:  I was, right.  I was fixed-wing ... in college, right, ... but Army training, at that point, all initial entry students went to rotary-wing--didn't always, wasn't always that way.  Before Vietnam, they went to fixed-wing training, fixed-wing school, or helicopter school, but, now, with the Vietnam War really going strong, everybody went to helicopter school. SH:  They did? JP:  Yes.  Fixed-wing became a secondary transition course, we called it.  Later on, if you were very lucky, you could get fixed-wing transition, but you had to go through helicopter school first. PL:  That is interesting. SH:  There are so many different types of aircraft.  JP:  Right. SH:  All of the pilots went for rotary-wing training before they flew fixed-wing aircraft. JP:  Starting with the Vietnam types.  ... Before, in the, maybe, ... [late] '50s and '60s, it might have been all, I'm not sure, fixed-wing school first and helicopter second, ... but, once Vietnam was really cooking, everybody went. Initial entry ... at flight school was all helicopter. SH:  What types of helicopters were you training on?  I know the technology for helicopters really changes in the 1960s.  JP:  The primary instructor school, [which] was at Fort Wolters, Texas, was one of two aircraft, TH-55 [Osage], which was a Hughes aircraft, or the other one was the OH-23 [Raven], I think it was.  So, there, those were the primary trainers.  Most of us were in the TH-55s, which was a really small [helicopter], almost like a mosquito, would be the best way to [put it]. SH:  It looked like the helicopter you would see on M*A*S*H, [a 1970 film and, later, television series (1972-1983), set in the Korean War]. JP:  Yes, right, right, okay, yes.  The TH-55 was upgraded, was a newer version, back then, of what was used in Korea, the 23 or the OH-13 [Sioux].  In fact, the OH-13s, which was what M*A*S*H was [using], were used in instrument training.  They still flew those back then, but only for instrument [training], the four weeks we took in instrument training.  So, flight school was divided into two parts, primary at Fort Wolters, and then, the secondary one at Fort Rucker, where we transitioned into the Hueys, which you think about [most often] in the Vietnam War, except for those four weeks of instrument training, which were OH-13s. SH:  How new were the Cobra gunships in comparison?  JP:  Cobras, I didn't see one until we got to Vietnam.  ... I think they were introduced around '68.  I think, I'm not a hundred percent sure, because I wasn't a Cobra pilot, but we had them in our unit.  Up until then, it was B model and C model gunships, Hueys, gunships.  [Editor's Note: The HU-1 Iroquois, later designated the UH-1 Iroquois, was nicknamed the "Huey."  As a utility helicopter, they were used for various tasks, including as gunships, by the US Army.  Introduced in 1967, the AH-1 Cobra, nicknamed the "Hueycobra," was used solely as a gunship.] SH:  While you were training, did you see other new technologies being introduced? JP:  Well, you wouldn't see anything at Fort Wolters.  That was all the little ones, but, at Fort Rucker, in those years, they were still flying some of the old and some of the new.  The Mohaves, CH-37s, I think they were, were there.  The Chinooks were there, which were a newer version of heavy lift.  They had the sky cranes [that] were there, the CH-54s, but most of the work was being done, when I got there, ... in Hueys, H model or D model Hueys, which was what we all trained in.  The other helicopters in Vietnam, the Cobras, the OH-6s, those were all transitions, after you graduated flight school.  Everybody, when I was there, went from the TH-55 into the Huey, okay.  ... After graduation from flight school, you could be [sent for additional training].  Most of us went to Vietnam.  A few guys got Chinook transitions here in the United States, but most everybody went to Vietnam, and then, if you were going to fly a Cobra or a Loach, which is what we called an OH-6, you would be transitioned or learn that in-country.  They called it a "transition." SH:  You actually would learn in Vietnam. JP:  Right, there's a school.  There was a Cobra school in Vung Tau, where we'd send the guys that wanted to be gun pilots who were maybe assigned to lift, or there's scouts who wanted to try Cobras.  We'd send a few of them to Vung Tau, where they would learn how to fly it in what we called an "in-country transition."  PL:  During flight school at Fort Rucker, did you notice any differences between the Army manual and what the instructors taught you? JP:  No.  It was pretty much done by, ... I'm trying to think of the word, ... like a lesson plan, and it was all pretty much done to script.  You went from the various phases--first, you transition into the actual aircraft, then, ... you do this instrument training for four weeks, and then, you do what we call a "tac X," or a tactical exercise, where you'd actually go out in the woods with the helicopters and do the stuff you would do in Vietnam.  ... They had certain side courses they taught us, like sling, how to do a sling load--how to pick something up with a helicopter and drop it--and all that kind of thing.  Night flying, we did.  SH:  Did you believe your training was adequate? JP:  It was good in the sense that I knew how to physically operate the aircraft, yes.  I could get right into a helicopter and fly it.  That part was not a problem.  The problem was the tactics.  Totally, it is hard to [train for]. You can't duplicate people shooting at you on a course.  You practice for various mechanical failures--engine failures, tail rotor failures.  There are all kinds of things that can happen, but you never really know how you'll react to it until it actually happens to you.  ... Then, there were low-level flying [missions], ... all the various things, tactics you use to avoid being shot, things like that, that ... you would learn, you'd pick up, from the older pilots.  The procedure was, you'd get over there, when you started to fly, you were a copilot.  The guy in the right seat--talking about a Huey now--the guy in the right seat was the copilot, the guy in the left seat was called an aircraft commander.  The aircraft commander ... was there, had more experience, obviously, than the copilot, and you would learn.  SH:  Was it difficult to transition from Rutgers to Army life? JP:  ... I liked it.  It was different, but I really liked it.  I liked going to Fort Benning.  I liked the training.  So, I didn't have a particular problem with it.  I mean, I knew what I was getting into pretty much. SH:  Were there any African-Americans training to become pilots? JP:  You know, it's funny, I don't [recall], never really paid attention.  ... There were, you know, some.  Again, I don't think it was in proportion to the society as a whole.  I mean, if the society was twenty percent, ... I don't know that that was necessarily reflected in the military.  Don't forget, the military then was different than today. Today, you have men and women serving [together on] almost every level, and, of course, it's much more integrated, I'd say.  I don't know if that's the right word.  Back then, during the Civil Rights Movement, one of the things I remember the politicians complaining about was that the draft affected minorities ... not as equal.  You know, if you were a college kid, you could get a deferment.  ... There were various [reasons].  So, they were always complaining that the draft was unfair because, at that time, I believe the Army was--there were more African-Americans, maybe, on the frontlines or in Vietnam than in the general population, so, they were bearing maybe a higher brunt of casualties.  Now, don't forget now, I was in aviation.  Aviation was a separate group, okay.  We didn't have that kind of racial makeup that they did maybe in the line units, in the ground units.  It was different.  I'm [not] saying this is right or wrong--it's just the way it was.  It was not done on purpose.  There was nobody trying to keep African-Americans out of flying.  I don't mean to imply that.  I'm just saying that's just the way it worked out at that time. PL:  You were commissioned as a second lieutenant and went to the officers' club.  JP:  Right. PL:  When you were in the officers' club, did you notice any racial tension between blacks and whites? JP:  There were no racial tensions in the Officer's Club stateside that I witnessed.  The only racial things that I noticed in Vietnam was that ... when we were off duty, okay, the African-American soldiers, if we went downtown, they had their own [places].  They would go to their own clubs and ... the bars, whatever I'm talking about.  I assume this was maybe similar throughout the country, but I can only talk about Phuoc Vinh, where I was stationed.  The rest of us went to other places.  That was not something that was forced.  In other words, they didn't say, "Whites Only," or, "Blacks [Only]," you know, no, no.  PL:  It was just a normal thing. JP:  ... They wanted to be with their [friends], you know, hang with their buddies, I guess, and we [did, too], you know.  So, it was not [forced].  There was ... nothing forced about it or deliberate or anything like that, that I could tell.  I mean, it was simply a matter of choice.  That's the way it [was]. SH:  Had you been dating anyone before you left for Vietnam? JP:  I had some girlfriends in college, but ... I wasn't [with] ... anybody, a steady girl or anything like that.  ... When I went to Fort Benning, I met a young lady who I married prior to going to Vietnam, and I'm still married to her forty-three years later--so, make out of that what you will.  [laughter] SH:  Was she from North Carolina? JP:  No, she was originally from Nebraska.  She was actually a "military brat," "Army brat."  ... Her father was an Army officer and he had retired at Fort Benning, Georgia, in the early '60s, and I got there in '68, I guess.  ... I met her at the officers' club and, then I ... left Fort Benning to go to Fort Wolters.  She came out later on and we got married in Texas while I was in flight school. SH:  I saw the date on your pre-interview survey and was curious as to how you met your wife.  JP:  Yes, she [was there], yes. SH:  In what ways did you prepare for your time in Vietnam?  At the time you are getting ready to go over, the war is escalating.  JP:  Yes.  I mean, I don't remember any [preparations].  I mean, again, when I went to Vietnam, a couple things had occurred in my life.  I had graduated college, I was an officer in the Army, I had a pilot's license and I had completed a year's training.  It wasn't like kids who were drafted when they were eighteen and, six months later, they were in Vietnam.  I was already--I won't say a man--I was on my way, you know.  I don't know that I'm grown up yet, [laughter] but I had started the process on my way to Vietnam.  So, I guess I'd want to say I was a little bit more stable than maybe the other, you know, younger soldiers, okay, who went over there.  ... I didn't do anything necessarily out of [the ordinary], extraordinary, to prepare myself, just the training, you know.  It was sort of ... a process, a training process. SH:  Where did your wife wait for you? JP:  She stayed with my parents the year I was over there and, when I came back, we left and went to Texas.  ... I spent another year in the Army after I got back.  SH:  I was going to say ... JP:  Yes, she was unhappy staying with my parents, [laughter] It was not her choice, but she survived, and so did I.  SH:  How were you transported to Vietnam? JP:  Okay, I took a commercial flight from Newark Airport to California--San Francisco, I want to say.  Where's the Golden Gate Bridge?  Is that San Francisco? SH:  Yes. JP:  Yes, okay, then, went to Travis Air Force Base.  ... We didn't fly military.  They had contract carriers, airlines that probably don't exist anymore, but they contracted with the government to do this, and so, it was, ... you know, like a cattle car type of thing, wasn't a military plane, was a civilian jet.  ... We flew from Travis Air Force Base to Hawaii, and then, from Hawaii, I think I went to--I'm not sure if it was Guam.  On the way over, I think it maybe was Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa, and then, to Vietnam.  On the way back, it was Guam, maybe we flew to Guam, Andersen Air Force Base, and then, to Hawaii, and then, to San Francisco, back to Travis, and a commercial flight back to Newark. PL:  How were the accommodations on the plane? JP:  Nothing special, I mean, nothing bad, nothing special.  I remember, I mean, you're twenty-one, twenty-three years old--you know, it's fine. SH:  When you left Rutgers, did anyone in your class follow the same path as yourself? JP:  Well, I'm sure [others did].  Because I was commissioned after graduation and most of them were commissioned ... just prior to graduation, I was probably a little bit behind my classmates, but I did run into [a few].  ... One of the guys that was in the flight training program, he happened to be the quarterback of the Rutgers Football Team.  His name was Fred Eckert, back then--his name is still Fred Eckert, I'm sure.  [laughter] ... I was at a place in Saigon called Camp Alpha.  Camp Alpha was where you go when you were leaving the country to go on R&R, something like that.  ... You'd go there and you would get clean uniforms, you would get a shower, warm shower, and you would get your money, your military payment certificates, exchanged for "greenback" dollars, so [that] you could spend them out of the country.  ... While I was in the shower--it was me and another guy standing there naked--and I looked at him and he looked at me and we knew we knew each other.  ... Turns out he was Fred Eckert from Rutgers University, the captain of the football team.  Freddie, he ... actually joined the National Guard in New Jersey ... with me and I flew with him for a little while here in New Jersey.  Then, he worked for Xerox, and then, he got transferred up to New York and I haven't seen him in a while, but, so, yes, ... every once in a while, I'd run into some Rutgers guy in Vietnam.  I ran into a couple of them, you know.  I gave a couple of them rides in my helicopter.  It was purely by chance, but you would run into people.  PL:  On your résumé, it says that you went to jungle survival school. JP:  Yes.  When I went to Vietnam, ... I was an infantry officer.  The guys in the Air Cavalry troops, most of the officers were armor officers, okay.  So, ... my unit in Vietnam--the Air Cavalry troops--had a ground platoon.  We had what's called the Blue Platoon, or ground platoon, and they had entertained an idea of making me the Blue Platoon leader.  So, they sent me to this school in the Philippines called Jungle Survival School, run by an organization with the acronym FAETUPAC.  FAETUPAC means Fleet Airborne Electronic Training Unit, Pacific. It was a naval thing--no idea why they would run, FAETUPAC would run, the jungle survival school, but they did--and it was run by the Negrito Indians.  I don't know if you know anything about the Filipinos, but Negritos ... would be tantamount to Native Americans here.  They are a native people that live in the jungle and ... they ran the school.  It was only a three-day school.  You fly in ... SH:  Really? JP:  Yes.  I flew from Tan Son Nhat into Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines.  ... It's interesting, they took us by bus from Clark Air Force Base to Cubi Point Naval Air Station, which is on the other side of the Philippines, overlooks Subic Bay.  ... It was the bus ride like you see in a movie--narrow roads down a mountain.  You know, you could look outside the bus and you're looking [down].  Okay, it was ... SH:  Straight down. JP:  Yes.  It was a very interesting bus ride.  So, yes, I went there and I completed jungle survival school, wasn't that rigorous.  ... It sounds worse than it is.  It was just three days out in the woods, and they taught us how to survive in the jungle.  There's a lot of interesting things in the jungle you can live off of, and then, I went back to Vietnam. SH:  Was there anything you saw that frightened you? JP:  The one thing I remember is the bats in the morning.  The bats would return to their caves in the morning and they would cover the sky.  It would look black and you'd see the sky moving, you know, black, but it was the bats--scared the heck out of me.  SH:  You saw something else that was flying, besides you. JP:  Yes.  [laughter] PL:  Now, back to Vietnam. JP:  Okay. PL:  You said that you were a copilot before you became a pilot. JP:  Aircraft commander, yes. PL:  The older guys, what did they teach you? JP:  Well, you've got a couple of things.  You've got tactics.  In other words, for instance, above fifteen hundred feet AGL [above ground level], they couldn't hit you with small arms fire, thirty-caliber or below, okay.  So, you'd learn.  One of the things you wanted to learn, when you're dealing with terrain that is mountainous or has hills, you might be fifteen hundred feet above the ground, but, if you're flying next to a mountain, you may be only seven hundred feet from the ground to that mountainside.  ... You know, you really have to know where you are, and they taught you ... the lay of the land and how to navigate, because there were no [aids], the typical, traditional type of navigational aids that the pilots used, VORTACs [a radio navigation aid] and all kinds of radio equipment.  They didn't have those in the jungle.  You just simply ... flew what they called "dead reckoning."  In other words, you'd have to know where you started, where you were going and you would plan your course, ... but, over time, if you worked in the same area, you would know every creek, every river.  You'd know where you were, where they had the fire support bases out there.  You could ID them by their location and what they looked like.  So, it was just a learning experience on how to do things to stay alive. SH:  Describe the base you were on and its function.  Where was your base located? JP:  Phuoc Vinh was the headquarters of the First Air Cavalry Division back then.  First Air Cav had moved.  [It] was traditionally, you'd know from the movie We Were Soldiers, ... up in the Second, II Corps/I Corps area, in the northern part of South Vietnam, and then, ... just before I got there, in about February of '68, I believe, or '69, sorry, they moved them south into III Corps, which contained Saigon.  Anyway, we were about maybe thirty miles north of Saigon and Bien Hoa, Long Bin, and ... the town of Phuoc Vinh was division headquarters, okay, and we were there.  Our Air Cav troop was there, my squadron headquarters were there, and we had other troops.  One was at Quan Loi and one was at Tay Ninh.  So, that area of Vietnam that the First Cav operated in, we had our First [Squadron] of the Ninth [Cavalry] in all around it.  The base had an airstrip and it had--most of the division units were there--besides our Air Cav troop, an aerial rocket artillery [unit]; Blue Max was there; the division headquarters' aircraft were there; 11th Girl Scouts, 11th GS [General Support Aviation Company], was there. Basically, it was division headquarters. SH:  Where did you first land when you arrived in Vietnam? JP:  ... When I came in, the plane landed at Long Binh, which was there, was a complex--Saigon, Long Binh and Bien Hoa--and they were all pretty close together.  Long Binh is where the replacement company went.  The plane landed, as I remember, in Long Binh.  ... Yes, I'm trying to remember, but I'm pretty sure it was Long Binh. SH:  What was your first reaction to being in Vietnam? JP:  It was like a furnace.  Walking off an air-conditioned plane into the [air], it was like walking into a furnace.  It was a hundred-and-some-odd degrees.  Just what I remember, it was awful hot.  [laughter] PL:  You would think that jungle survival school would have prepared you for the climate. JP:  Well, that was after I got there.  She's talking about [when I first arrived], yes.  ... SH:  What was your first assignment?  Were you there as a replacement? JP:  Okay.  When I landed, we went to ... what they called a "repo-depot," the replacement [depot], okay, and we were there for a few days, a day, not long.  ... A few of us who got off that plane were assigned to the First Cavalry Division.  ... Then, we were assigned further down to the unit we would be in the First Cav.  That's when I found out I'd be in the First of the Ninth. SH:  Was everyone there a replacement for helicopter units? JP:  No, no.  It was just a mix of people, yes, officers, enlisted.  ... Well, there was three of us from that group ... that I know were helicopter pilots, that went to the First Cavalry Division.  We all went together.  So, once I was assigned to the First Cavalry Division, because, like I told you before, the First Cav had just moved recently from their base in An Khe, which is up in the northern part of South Vietnam, to Phuoc Vinh, they had something called "charm school."  "Charm school" was sort of like a three-day indoctrination course that the division gave to its newly assigned members.  So, we went from Long Binh, we flew up to An Khe [and] spent three days up at An Khe, at "charm school." SH:  Tell me about "charm school."  [laughter] JP:  Oh, I remember getting familiar with the weapons, familiarization [with them].  There wasn't much because I don't remember that much.  SH:  This was all officers. JP:  Yes.  I don't know if the enlisted guys went up there, too.  They probably did, but I don't remember.  ... So, it was only a couple of days.  ... Then, we went back down to the airfield at An Khe and they flew me back to Phuoc Vinh, which is where I landed, at Phuoc Vinh, and then, they sent a jeep down to pick me up and that's when I first reported to my actual unit.  ... [TAPE PAUSED] SH:  Go ahead. PL:  The Army has strict protocols for officers in terms of their dress.  When you went to Vietnam, were these rules relaxed? JP:  Well, the answer is, you'd wear a flight suit.  It was a Nomex flight suit and you wore it for safety reasons, because it was flame-retardant.  So, when we flew, you know, we wore the two-piece.  ... In the old days, when I was in flight school, they had the old gray flight suits, like you might think about, with the zipper on the bottom, zipper on the top.  It was a one-piece flight suit, okay, wasn't very fire-retardant.  ... By that time, the Army had--we were using what they called Nomex, which was a type of material that was ... flame-retardant.  It was a two-piece thing that was Army green and you wore your name tags and your patch, or whatever.  ... Then, you had gloves you wore, when you flew.  You wore flight gloves to keep your hands [safe].  In case you were on fire, your hands wouldn't burn, and then, you'd also wear [a helmet].  ... We had regular, the old-style helmets for a time, and then, we got these new, better, soundproof and bulletproof, bullet-resistant, helmets in.  So, off-duty, ... most of the pilots, all of us, you know, ... were walking around in our flight suits or, you know, some form of civilian thing, you know--shorts, t-shirts, maybe no t-shirt.  ... I've got pictures of it here, but, anyway, go ahead.  I was trying to describe it. PL:  I am sure the flight suits were very warm. JP:  Yes, but, when you flew, for every thousand feet above ground level, you'd lose two degrees centigrade.  So, as you gained altitude, you got cooler, plus, the fact ... you had the doors open and the windows open, you could fly the helicopter out of trim and it would create a nice breeze through the helicopter.  There are ways to defeat the heat.  [laughter] SH:  Talk about a typical day in your unit. JP:  Typical day, ... it was the day [that] would start at night.  We'd go down to the tactical operations center and they'd give us a briefing of the next day's mission.  Then, we would carry that information, the leaders, the platoon leaders, whatever, the commanders, the people ... who are leading the whatever mission, would get the briefing from the CO or the intelligence type, whatever, whoever was doing the briefing at night.  Then, we'd go back to where we lived and we would give that information to the guys that were going to fly the mission and we'd get up in the morning and, whatever the mission was, we'd go and execute the mission. SH:  Were the quarters where you lived called a hooch? JP:  ... Yes, it was a hooch. SH:  Was it already built? JP:  Yes, it was a wooden frame building with a screen, sort of like a screen, a summer porch house, it would have been, you know, here.  You know, it's a wood frame with screens around it. SH:  How often was there incoming fire? JP:  Yes, we got rocketed and mortared pretty regular, I would say.  We had, in my room, when I finally got my own room--I didn't have my own room for the first couple months, until we had some casualties and some guys left, so that I ... was able to get my own room--and then, ... I built a bunker in my room.  In other words, [I] sandbagged this thing up and I put a piece of wood there.  I had a roommate.  ... He slept on the bottom, I slept on this piece of wood.  Then, we built the sandbags up higher.  Then, we put a piece of steel [on top], plate steel we got somewhere, so that if something came right through the roof, we'd have a chance of surviving.  ... SH:  What did you do for fresh air?  It is hot and you have all these sandbags around you. JP:  You know, you get used to the heat.  You get what they called--the word, actually, is "acclimatized," [laughter] was the word they used.  So, yes, ... you know, it wasn't that bad, I mean.  At night, actually, it could get cold, a little cooler.  It's not the desert. SH:  Where would you go for recreation?  Was there an officers' club? JP:  There's an officers' club.  ... Of course, we had our helicopters.  If we weren't [on duty], if we could get a helicopter and we weren't having a mission, we could fly [on our own].  We used to fly to a place called Lai Khe, because they had something that looked like a Dairy Queen right off the airfield.  We could stop and get an ice cream.  We could fly down to Bien Hoa, ... to the officers' club.  They had nice officers' clubs, and [the] Air Force had better facilities.  So, yes, we had ways of [relaxing].  ... In Saigon, they had something called--the helicopter pad there was called "Hotel Three."  It was off the Tan Son Nhat Airbase, was a separate part, and you could land there.  They had a big PX there.  They had the Air Force officers' club there.  I mean, we didn't get to do that a lot, but you could, from time to time.  We used to fly down to Vung Tau, when we could get away.  Vung Tau, ... you know, it was like the Jersey Shore, would be the best way to put it. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, it was "The Jersey Shore of Vietnam," and all the various embassies of the countries there, ... it was right on the ocean and they had beachfront homes there, and so, it was sort of like a "Down the Shore" type place we could go.  [laughter] Not very often, but, once in a while, you could get down there. PL:  In your Air Cav unit, I understand you worked with the 75th Rangers. JP:  Yes.  Every division in Vietnam had a Ranger company assigned to it.  It's not like today, where you have actual Ranger units, okay.  ... This unit was commanded by a captain and they had three or four, we called them LRRP lieutenants.  LRRP means long-range reconnaissance patrol, okay, and what they were, they were configured, they would go out on a team, maybe four, maybe five, depending [on the mission], okay, and they'd have an area to recon, and then, ... our unit was responsible [for them].  What I would do is, I would take the team leader and one of these LRRP lieutenants out and we'd go over the area that they were going to be working in and we'd look over the area from the air.  ... Then, we'd pick out a landing zone.  Sometimes, we'd pick out two or three, and I'll tell you why in a minute.  Then, we'd go back, and then, they would do whatever they did, and then, we'd execute the mission, maybe in the next day or two.  We wouldn't do it right away.  You wouldn't want to recon something, and then, [attack], because, if there were bad guys out there, they'd know you were coming.  ... Whatever the ... timing was, two or three days later, we'd go out and insert the team.  ... One of the things we would do is, we'd pick out maybe two or three landing sites and we would land in all three of them, but, ... obviously, the Ranger team would only get off in one, so that they couldn't really tell, you know.  It was a little confusing to the bad guys.  ... Yes, that was our responsibility, was putting these guys [in], reconning for them, to find out where we could put them in, in whatever area they were going to work.  If they got into contact, we'd have to go out and rescue them, because four, five guys, they didn't have a lot.  You know, they couldn't sustain a combat operation night and day.  We pulled them out at night.  We pulled them out during the day if they got into contact with the enemy, or [at] the end of the tour.  ... The mission was usually three or four days of reconnaissance.  They'd go out there and they'd monitor trails.  They'd sneak around--maybe they'd find documents, maybe they'd shoot a guy and they'd take stuff, or whatever it was.  One time they had a prisoner.  We went out and got them.  They had a POW.  That was rare, but I did fly a mission where they had an enemy soldier they had taken, and that's how they operated. SH:  Was this a typical mission?  What was a typical mission like for you? JP:  Well, we had responsibility for the Rangers.  Our primary responsibility was moving our own infantry platoon. I was the lift platoon leader after a while.  SH:  What is a lift platoon leader? JP:  ... All Air Cavalry troops were configured, in Vietnam, pretty much the same.  You had the gun platoon, which was either your Charlie or Mike model gunships, or, later on, the Cobras, you had the scout platoon, which was the OH-6--we called them Loaches, was a scout aircraft--and you had the Huey section, which was six Hueys we had, and then, you had this ground platoon, okay.  ... What would happen is, the scout birds and the gunship would go out on a team called a "Pink Team," and they would go out, and then, if they found something, like if they discovered a bunker complex or they shot some guys up, then, we would decide whether or not to put the infantry guys in to develop the situation.  So, if we were going to put in these [men], our own infantry--it was only a platoon of guys--then, that would be our responsibility, to fly them into the LZ, put them in, and they, generally, typically, would not stay overnight.  ... We put them in, they'd [do] whatever they did, you know, do whatever the mission was, and we'd pull them out. SH:  You would have to go back and get them. JP:  Right.  ... Well, the way it was worked is, we were based at Phuoc Vinh, but our Charlie Troop, my unit's area of operation, was up in the Song [Nga] Bay area, which was maybe fifteen, twenty miles north of Phuoc Vinh.  So, what we would do is, we would take the Blue Platoon and the lift section and we'd fly up to the other base, ... early in the morning, and we'd just sit there and wait.  ... What we would be doing is waiting in case the scout [element], the teams that were ... doing the reconnaissance, would find something or more.  A lot of times, too, they were shot down.  A scout ship would be shot down and we were the rescue, you know, the ready reaction force.  [At] that point, we would simply get on the helicopter, take them out there and go right into the crash site and try to save the crews and get the aircraft out of whatever we were doing.  So, that was our primary mission, was our own guys. Secondary mission was the Rangers.  Tertiary mission, I would say, would be the sniffer missions we talked about, and I also had a lot of special missions.  I ran gas missions a few times.  A gas mission is [when] we'd take a fifty-five-gallon drum of CN [phenacyl chloride]--CN is a tear gas, but there's two kinds of tear gas, CS [2-chlorobenzalmalononitrile], CN.  CS is the kind of stuff the police use, where ... it doesn't hurt you.  You cry and it hurts your eyes, but it doesn't [incapacitate you].  CN is real nasty stuff.  It's a persistent agent.  It's really, really, really bad tear gas.  It's not lethal, but it's awful stuff, and we would take it and put it in a fifty-five-gallon drum with an explosive inside it, and then, I would sling load it beneath my helicopter.  ... We'd have a gunship with us.  We'd find a tree line that looked promising, where we might think the bad guys are, and ... I'd punch it off and drop this thing like a bomb into the trees, tree line.  ... Then, the Cobra, after a few minutes, would go in and shoot up the area, just in case any guy was running around or anything like that.  I didn't do that very much.  ... I think it was more experimental than a common mission.  I also had a mission [where] we put the dogs in.  The tracking dogs, we had [them]--they were at Phuoc Vinh with us--and, once [in a while], not a lot, but we'd take the black labs [Labrador retrievers] in, and they had a special [designation], like the Rangers.  It was their own unit, the reconnaissance dogs.  ... We would insert them every now and then, and would do special missions.  I did a recovery of an Air Force jet that had crashed and we put an Air Force team in there to see [the crash], to recover the remains, whatever.  It was right in the middle of the jungle.  They couldn't get in any other way, so, we had to put them in [with] ropes, you know.  SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, we called it McGuire rigging, rappelling in, where they rappel in, and then, ... when we pulled them out, that rope's called a McGuire rig.  I don't know where that name [comes from].  Anyway, we'd McGuire rig them out, pull them out of the jungle, and leave them underneath that helicopter and flying them back to where we could land them.  Yes, I've done that any number of times.  I did a mission where the Cambodians were complaining to the American Government that Agent Orange was drifting over Vietnam and into Cambodia and destroying their crops.  So, they sent these guys from Washington out and I had to take them in my helicopter with a pair of special binoculars, gyroscopically-controlled binoculars.  ... I flew them up along the Cambodian-Vietnam border and they were just looking to see if that ... in fact had happened.  We got a lot of special missions. PL:  What was it like to fly at night in Vietnam? JP:  Flying at night; ... we didn't have NVG, which means night vision goggles.  ... You had to ... pay attention all the time.  It was difficult at best.  We did it a lot.  It was dangerous.  SH:  Do you remember the first time you came under enemy fire? JP:  Well, the first, my first mission, one of my first missions, we were putting in the "Blues," [Blue Platoon], I guess. I'm trying to remember--I was in the right seat, okay.  ... Most helicopters you see in the pictures, the crew chief and the door gunner are sitting in the back of the helicopter with their machine-guns in the back.  This particular helicopter, the crew chief and the door gunner had moved the machine-guns to right behind the copilot and the pilot.  They were sitting right behind us.  Okay, I was on the right, [the] aircraft commander on the left, the crew chief and the door gunners were right behind us.  ... They had their M60s [machine guns] on a bungee cord, which is like a stretchy cord.  ... For some reason, they had rigged it that way this day, and we were going into this LZ and I was the new guy--I wasn't flying, I was just sitting there, didn't know what was going on.  ... The gunships were firing rockets into the LZ, to prep the LZ, and next thing I know [is] that they said, "We're going in hot," which meant that the machine-gunners would open up.  ... These guys were firing ... their machine-guns, but they were right behind us and the hot brass--the ejected rounds coming out of the machine-[gun]--were banging on my helmet, going down my flight suit.  I was scared.  [laughter] I didn't know what [was happening].  I don't know how scared I was.  I didn't know what the hell was going on at that point.  I mean, it was nerve-wracking, but, yes, that was the first time.  I was pretty lucky.  I mean, I didn't really [get hurt].  I crashed a couple times, due to the combat situation, not necessarily being shot down.  I got caught in weather a lot at night.  ... SH:  Please, elaborate. JP:  They had a LRRP team in contact.  It was at night.  It was a rainy night and ... nobody was flying, because the weather was so bad.  ... We couldn't fly instruments over there, because ... our helicopters didn't have the proper instrumentation.  Anyway, I remember, for some reason, the LRRP lieutenant came into the club, and I was not inebriated at the time, for whatever reason.  Most everybody else was, because they knew we weren't going to be flying, and he peeked [in] and he got me and we went down to the commanding officer of my unit.  He never frequented the club, so, he wasn't drinking.  So, he and I and a crew went out to find these Rangers.  ... We got out there--and it was monsoon season and the monsoons are like rainstorms, intermittent rainstorms--and they were in and out and we were having problems.  We couldn't fly in it.  We'd get caught in weather.  ... The Commander was flying and we had a flare ship out there to light the area up and the flare went off and we were [going down].  He had vertigo.  He was going right into the ground when I pulled it out, just before we went into the ground.  Finally, we pulled these guys up out of the jungle, on those McGuire rigs, okay, but we couldn't land anywhere.  We were out in the middle of nowhere.  So, they were hanging beneath my helicopter and we were flying them back to Phuoc Vinh and we got caught in another rainstorm and the flare ship dropped a flare.  ... They didn't see us, we didn't see them, and it went off almost right in front of us.  We were blinded for a while, for a few seconds, but we managed to get them back in one piece.  ... So, yes, it was exciting.  [laughter] SH:  Are there any other missions that stand out? JP:  That one, I think, was one of my most [memorable], was the most dangerous, had the most potential, I think, for catastrophe written all over it, yes.  Can you imagine ... if we'd have run into that flare ship?  We would have lost our aircraft, the flare ship aircraft and those six guys that were hanging underneath me.  ... I had the four guys in my helicopter, I had the LRRP lieutenant, who was talking to the guys on the ground with his radio--he was the guy controlling the guys on the ground.  He was in my aircraft.  I mean, it would have been pretty bad.  This LRRP lieutenant that was onboard went on to medical school when he returned home.  He served as a doctor in the Army--stayed in and retired. SH:  There was a heated, ongoing political debate regarding our participation in the war while you were in Vietnam.  Was it possible for you to stay neutral? JP:  Well, I mean, you don't lose your opinion just because you're in the Army.  I can remember sitting, talking to some of the other guys and saying, you know, "Jesus, if we were to wall this country off, bulldoze everything, ... you know, what would we accomplish?"  I mean, in Vietnam there were no significant resources.  The only thing there was the Michelin rubber plantation.  [Editor's Note: Michelin, a French company best known for their rubber products, operated rubber plantations in Indochina when the region was still a French colony.]  I don't think we had a shortage of tires.  There was no silver.  I mean there was nothing that you'd normally [fight over].  It was a war over an idea, ... of stopping Communism.  ... It's not like you were fighting [for resources].  We didn't need the bases, we didn't need ... any of the things that was produced in that country.  It wasn't, you know, like that.  So, it was, you know, a war--we look at it as a war against Communism.  ... I mean, I can't speak for everybody over there.  I believed in what we were doing, most pilots did.  I had no problem with it.  Korea is a good example. Contrast the communist North to the free South. SH:  I wanted to ask about that.  JP:  Yes. SH:  Do you think other people felt as you did towards the war? JP:  The overwhelming majority.  ... The people who liked it the least were the draftees.  I mean, kids today don't understand what it means to be forced into military service.  They don't have that frame of reference anymore.  ... To my mind, the best thing that happened out of Vietnam was the advent of the all-volunteer Army, okay, because that's why there's no large anti-war movement in this country today.  You always had anti-war people in this country.  ... Starting with the Tories [during the American Revolution] and working your way forward, there was always people who didn't like war, okay, but, back in the Vietnam days, when you added in ... the draft, now, ... you could go to any college campus, you send an activist, and you could get yourself an army of students going, like Kent State, for instance.  [Editor's Note: Mr. Pressman is alluding to the May 4, 1970 Kent State shootings, in which members of the Ohio National Guard killed four students and wounded nine others.]  ... Then, you had your parents, the parents of all the [potential draftees].  I mean, you had an enormous reservoir to work with for anti-war activities out of the Vietnam War because of the draft.  Take away the draft and, now, you have parents whose kids don't have to serve if they don't want to, and the kids in college, their primary concern is their next beer, not the next life.  [laughter] I mean, so, the anti-war movement, I think, has been toned down significantly, although, I mean, you still have the people.  There's no question about it, but ... you don't see revolutions on college campuses anymore or people in the streets or taking over a building, all that business that happened ... during the Vietnam War, because there's no draft.  I think that's a good thing. SH:  While you were in Vietnam, did you hear about anti-war activities occurring in the United States? JP:  Oh, you know, you would hear about it.  [You would] be so busy, you know.  You're so busy doing your job and trying to stay alive that ... SH:  Do you recall media coverage of the war? JP:  Yes.  ... I don't remember anybody ever [visiting us], you know, any kind of press coming to [our base], when I was there, anyway, doing any kind of thing like that.  I mean, ... Bob Hope was there.  I didn't get to see him, but some of our guys got to see him.  He was close by.  Tarzan came to our unit and rappelled out of one [of] our [helicopters].  Ron Ely, I think, was Tarzan at the time, and he came to our unit and we let him rappel out of one of our helicopters.  [laughter] SH:  Were you involved with any PR in your unit? JP:  ... The First Cavalry Division had their own [press].  We had our own newspaper, you know, called The Cavalier.  ... It was always, you know, positive press, obviously because it was coming out of the military.  ... Again, I mean, ... our unit, a helicopter unit, like ours, was mostly officers--there are enlisted--and most everybody in our unit were volunteers.  Even if you were drafted as an enlisted man, if you wanted to come to our unit, you had to volunteer to be a crew chief or a door gunner, okay.  ... Some were assigned, you know, out of the pool, but most, a lot of guys, came over from other units, so that they even [chose that]. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes.  So, we didn't have a lot of problems--you know, anti-war--within our own units, problems like that. Most of the guys were [good], and you really had to be up on it.  If you're [in] aviation, between maintenance and everything that was going on you had to really do your job, if you wanted to stay alive. PL:  How was the mail service while you were in Vietnam? JP:  ... We got mail pretty regular.  It was no problem.  ... It was free.  You could mail [for free].  ... I don't know if you knew that--anybody ever tell you that?  You could mail [for free].  ... Instead of a stamp, you would write your APO number on where the stamp would go and you'd put it in the mailbox.  We had ... a mailroom and we could mail stuff home for free. PL:  Was there any censorship of the mail? JP:  No, not that I know of.  I have all my [letters].  My wife saved all her letters from me--nothing was censored. A lot of what we did was--I mean, I know it sounds arcane to people, you know, kids today, with their e-mails and cell phones [laughter]--we used to do reel-to-reel tapes.  You would tape ... SH:  Right. JP:  And then, you would mail the tape home and they would [play it], you know, and so, ... I've saved all of those, too.  So, yes, ... it's sort of a historical record, but, yes, that's how we communicated.  I think I phoned home maybe two or three times.  You had to go to Saigon.  ... It was a USO office and was like a radio phone.  ... Maybe two or three times, I was able to get there to call home, but it was all done with letters and those tape recorders, reel-to-reel tape recorders. SH:  I do remember them well. JP:  Yes.  [laughter] PL:  I remember the cassette tapes. SH:  Were there soldiers who could not make the adjustment from civilian to Army life? JP:  Well, I mean, ... always, in any situation, you'd have some problems with some enlisted men.  You had drugs, not a lot, but you'd [have some].   SH:  Were drugs a problem? JP:  Not as bad as probably in some of the other units, because, when you're in a flight unit, drugs are--[laughter] you know, you didn't want to be flying or doing maintenance and doing the things that would kill you while you were under the influence of something, ... but they were there.  They were. SH:  Because your life depends on the maintenance crew.  JP:  Yes, yes, making sure that the aircraft is [in top condition].  I mean, it's bad enough people are trying to shoot you down--you didn't want something to fall off, you know, because of poor maintenance.  ... We had a guy; ... the enlisted guys were [playing a game].  We had an incident where they were playing quick draw, and the guy drew his pistol, a forty-five-caliber pistol, and cocked it.  ... They were playing and he put it back in the holster, forgot he had it cocked, and, the next time he drew it, it went off, shot one of our guys.  ... I remember, when we went down to the hospital to see him--he had to be medivaced--he was shot in the abdomen.  ... The bullet went around inside him and tore up his diaphragm and hit his spine, and so, ... he was really messed up.  So, we went down to see this kid.  So, you have incidents like that.  We didn't really have--I mean, they talked about things like "fragging" [the killing of officers by their own men] in Vietnam, you know.  We never had incidents like that.  ... We worked well. We were close-knit.  We flew together.  When we weren't flying, we hung around the airplane together.  We ate together; ... when we were in the field, not back at the base.  So, we were sort of, like, a little mini-fraternity, would be the best way to put it, and officer, enlisted--once you were out there flying, it didn't really [matter].  We didn't have any kind of serious, serious problems with draftees and people trying to hurt officers or stuff like that, not in that unit. SH:  Did you have a call sign or nickname? JP:  I had my call [sign].  My official call sign was "Cavalier 3-9," was my call sign.  I had two other, nicknames, call signs, I'd guess you'd call it.  One was "Cavalier Jungle," because, when I first got to Vietnam, I was in the [ground platoon], on the ground for about four or five weeks, learning to be the platoon leader.  I went to jungle survival school, so, they called me "Cavalier Jungle," and the other one was "Cavalier Jew," because there was very few Jewish guys over there.  I was, like, the only one.  [laughter] So, they would use that, not a lot, but, yes, that was ... my two nicknames, "Cavalier Jungle" and "Cavalier Jew," and my call sign actually was "Cavalier 3-9." SH:  Why did you switch roles in your unit?  JP:  Well, yes, well, what happened was, we had taken some casualties and they needed pilots.  So, they put me back in the cockpit and they assigned somebody else to do that job.  So, they needed me more as a pilot. Actually, when I went over there, ... I had a medical grounding.  I couldn't fly for, like, four or five weeks, and when I got off the medical grounding, they needed pilots, because they had lost some pilots--either some went home, some were killed, whatever.  ... They put me into a cockpit. SH:  How long did it take you to become an aircraft commander? JP:  Oh, not exactly sure, but I want to say three months, maybe.  I can remember exactly how it happened.  We were sitting in our hooch and we had a downed [aircraft].  Somebody crashed and we were running.  Somebody crashed, one of our guys.  We were the ready reaction force to rescue them, like I said.  So, they ring a bell.  Each hooch had a bell in it, and the guy in the headquarters, in the tactical operations center, would ring the bell and we'd all just ... run to our airplanes, get in it, take off, and then, ... they'd tell us where to go and where to pick up [survivors], where the crash was, or whatever.  ... I remember running down to the helicopter and ... I wasn't the section leader then, I was just a copilot.  The guy says to me, my platoon leader said to me, "We're out of aircraft commanders.  You're now an aircraft commander."  So, I was promoted on the run and, from that day forward, I flew in the left seat.  [laughter] That's true.  SH:  How often did you have to rescue downed aircraft?  JP:  It was frequent, I would say.  I mean, we lost [many aircraft], because of the nature of the work--the scout pilots.  It wasn't always somebody being shot down, or, sometimes, people crashed, you know, made a mistake, crashed, could be any number of things, but it was [on a] fairly regular basis, yes--not every day, but we took some significant loses over time. SH:  As you became more experienced, did you try to pass what you learned on to the new members of your unit? JP:  Well, yes, when I became an aircraft commander, I would fly with a copilot and I would teach him.  ... In August of '69, a new guy came in, and I had acquired my own room, like I talked about.  This guy came in and he lived with me as my roommate ... until I left, the following March.  It was August, I left in March the next year.  ... He and I became really good friends, and stayed friends for the rest of our lives.  He recently died.  [As a] matter-of-fact, ... two weeks ago, he was buried in Arlington--full military honors--he and another guy from my unit.  They were buried on the same day.  So, that's why I couldn't come in before, because I was down at Arlington. SH:  You had said you were down in Arlington. JP:  Yes, ... that was my roommate, and he had gotten pancreatic cancer, fought it for a year, but didn't survive. PL:  How close was the relationship between the flight crew and the mechanics? JP:  Well, it was close, because our mission, a lot of our missions, required that.  For instance, on a single-ship mission, if you were going into a very small LZ, landing zone, okay, what would happen is, once we'd get close to the ground, the crew chief and the door gunner might either get on their bellies and lean out the aircraft, or at least hang out the window, and ... talk to you about, you know, "Move your tail to the left," ... because you'd almost, similarly, like, screw yourself into this LZ, because ... we were working, always, in tight spaces.  ... The Rangers would always be in a little clearing, or whatever.  It was always tight, and so, yes, we really worked well together, and we had very little, you know, problems with these guys.  We'd all get along.  It was not as formal, maybe, as maybe some other kind of unit. SH:  While you were in Vietnam, was it safe to visit Saigon? JP:  It was safe.  This was after Tet of '68.  [Editor's Note: The Tet Offensive of 1968, in which every major city in South Vietnam was attacked by the Vietcong, is seen as the point when American public opinion began turning against the war.]  I remember taking a jeep ride from Bien Hoa to Saigon, going over the Newport Bridge. Newport Bridge was--anybody who was over there in that area knows what the Newport Bridge was.  Later on, at the end of the war, ... on TV, you could see the NVA [North Vietnamese Army] tanks coming over the Newport Bridge, okay, but, anyway, I remember driving down there to Saigon in a jeep.  I ... forget what I was doing, ... or we'd fly in, and you could carry your weapon, but you didn't really need it.  It was like any big town.  It was pretty, you know, hustle-bustle.  ... They called Saigon "The Paris of the Orient."  It was hustle-bustle, but it was all Vietnamese style--no incidents that I [recall], when I was in town, about any kind of fragging or booby-traps, anything like that.  It was fairly safe.  I remember that.  SH:  Were you always armed? JP:  Yes.  Well, "armed," if you want to call a thirty-eight-caliber pistol being armed.  [laughter] SH:  That is true. JP:  I don't know if that qualifies, but, yes. SH:  Were there any inspections of your unit? JP:  Well, you had typical military inspections.  CMMI [Command Maintenance Management Inspection] was one of them, called a command maintenance inspection, something, where somebody from the division would come in and look at you, you know--yes, nothing.  They made us clean up our rooms every now and then, [laughter] ... but nothing significant in that area. SH:  Did your father-in-law give you any advice? JP:  My father-in-law? no, not really.  SH:  Because of his military service.  JP:  No, except he did tell me not to try to be a hero. SH:  He was in World War II and Korea. JP:  ... Yes, he was in World War II and Korea.  He was an engineer officer.  ... It's funny--he had built the airfields at Fort Wolters and Fort Rucker.  ... So, when I married my wife, we ... sort of went back in her childhood, because she had lived at Fort Wolters when she was a child.  We went there.  She'd lived at Fort Rucker when she was a child and we went there.  ... So, yes, it was interesting, but he, interesting, ... was on Eniwetok Island.  I don't know if you know what Eniwetok was or not.  ... I think that's where they did nuclear tests, A-bomb tests.  ... He had contracted cancer very young, at fifty-seven, I think it was, ... and passed away, and so, we don't know if that was the cause, but we've always suspected.  He was all over the Pacific in WWII--Philippines, Okinawa, and other places.  He spend a year in Korea, also.  He was a great guy and a self-made man--LTC Kenneth N. Holmberg. SH:  They did not know about the effects of radiation.  JP:  Yes, yes.  ... SH:  Were you aware of the dangers of Agent Orange?  You had mentioned previously that the Cambodians had lodged complaints about it.  JP:  We didn't know that it was dangerous, that [it] caused the health problems that they discovered years later. We knew it was nasty stuff because ... it was a chemical that killed.  [laughter] I mean, you didn't have to extrapolate too far to know if it would kill living things, you know, if you want to count yourself as a living thing, but ... we didn't realize the consequences of it, I don't think.  I've seen it employed.  I saw the Air Force, you know, put it in.  They used to drop it from C-123s [Provider], I think, and you would see the stuff coming out the back. When it came out, though, I don't know whether they called it Agent Orange or it looked orangey when it came out of the airplane.  ... I remember seeing it employed and I've seen the effects of it. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, but, I mean, the effects on the vegetation, not on human beings, but we didn't really know it was a carcinogen until, you know, later on. SH:  As a pilot, were there some tactics that you employed that you feel may have been ineffective at the time? JP:  No.  Everything we did was tried and true, you know.  We knew exactly what to do to decrease the possibility of being shot out of the air, you know. SH:  Did you have to report body counts? JP:  I'll tell you an interesting story.  When I first reported to the First of the Ninth, we--myself and the two other guys that were assigned--went to the squadron commander's office, not my troop commander, the guy that--the squadron commander--that was the next higher headquarters.  ... His name was Colonel Peterson.  He was a strange individual, as I remember, but he said to us, the three of us, that, "Here in the First of the Ninth, we don't give a body count unless we can land our helicopters, get out and step on their heads," which caught my interest, as a new guy.  Body counts were obviously exaggerated over there, but it wasn't necessarily.  We were never told to exaggerate that kind of thing.  We pretty much reported the truth.  Because we were a reconnaissance unit, it was critical that we reported what we saw and not what we'd like.  ... Now, once it ... went from squadron up to the division, whether or not somebody was padding their résumé, I couldn't answer that.  I'd hope not, but you don't know, but we didn't pad our résumés by body counts--at least, you know, it didn't [seem to be the case], not that I ever knew of.  SH:  Did your feelings change towards President Johnson now that he was your Commander-in-Chief? JP:  I'll tell you, one of the things that changed [the war in] Vietnam, as far as I was concerned, was the My Lai Massacre, okay.  [Editor's Note: On March 16, 1968, hundreds of unarmed civilians were murdered by US Army soldiers in the Americal Division, an event that, when made public over one year later, turned public opinion against the war.] SH:  You heard about what happened right away. JP:  Yes.  We--let's see, how can I put this?  I had an incident after the My Lai Massacre.  The word got out and all that, because it happened before I was there, but it took awhile before it broke in the news.  ... We had an incident where a Ranger team had come in off a patrol and ... they were talking about mutilating a body.  The guy was already dead, a dead soldier.  They had mutilated it, cut off a body part--maybe an ear--you know, as sending a message.  The word went up the chain of command and I was randomly pulled out of the line with another guy, and we had to fly back to that area.  This was a hot area, and they wanted to find the body, to see if it was [mutilated, that it] actually happened, and then, they were going to prosecute these guys for mutilation of a body.  ... What happened was, I had MPs on the airplane with me, I had CID, which was--CID is a military version of the FBI, I guess would be the best way of [putting it], Criminal Investigation Division.  These were the detectives and we had some of them on the airplane.  We went back in.  ... I remember it because, that particular mission, ... my aircraft crashed on that mission.  We were going back into this same LZ that we pulled them out of, and it really wasn't a two-ship LZ, but, when I came over the LZ, there was a guy right behind, another helicopter right behind me.  ... I knew if I didn't do something, he was going to fly right into me.  So, I moved up to the front and I ran out of power before ... I landed and hit the ground.  ... It broke the skid, it punched its chin bubbles out, whatever, but the other guy got in okay.  So, I was able to fly it out, and then, later on, land it.  ... The body had [been removed]. The NVA didn't leave bodies laying around.  They pulled them out.  They pulled him away and buried him.  So, they could never find that body.  So, nothing was made of it, but I just thought it was interesting that they would take me out of the line--away from my regular missions--to go back there to see if [the body was mutilated, because] somebody said something.  I mean, it was a total waste if time and effort.  Before, nobody would have done anything, nobody would have cared.  Now, everybody was sensitized to atrocities, if you want to call it that. To me, doing something to a dead body is not necessarily an atrocity.  If he was alive, yes, ... you'd have a problem.  ... So, yes, the My Lai event changed things. [TAPE PAUSED] SH:  This is interesting. JP:  [laughter] That's what my wife would say, anyway; go ahead. SH:  Did you have any personal interactions with the South Vietnamese population? JP:  Okay, ... on our base, we did not have what were called "hooch maids," okay.  Some of the people, a lot of them, maybe, had women that worked on their base that would do the laundry, that would live--actually, sometimes, would live right in there--and they'd shine your shoes, they'd do a lot of things, but we had a civilian workforce there that did things like fill sandbags.  We had laundry service.  We sent it out and it came back.  ... I don't know exactly where it went, ... and they would do that.  ... For a time, we were allowed to go downtown after [duty], if we weren't working.  Downtown, they had bars, restaurants of sorts, and they had a market down there where you could buy food, French bread, different things.  It was dirt roads.  It was, you know, not what you'd think of as a town today, but it was Vietnamese.  It was a relatively substantial town in comparison, ... but, after a time, for some reason, they wouldn't let us go downtown anymore.  So, after that happened, we really didn't have a lot of interface with the Vietnamese population. SH:  Do you know why they stopped letting you go? JP:  I don't know, maybe there were some incidents.  ... The Vietnamese soldiers would always have, like, shootouts down there.  They'd shoot, like duels and stuff.  I mean, it was like [laughter] the Wild West sometime, yes. SH:  What were your impressions of the South Vietnamese Army? JP:  We had some missions with them, not a lot.  ... Ninety-five percent, ninety-seven percent, ... of our missions were in-house, what I would call "in-house."  ... Some of the assault battalions and other helicopter units would take the Vietnamese Army units here and there.  They were around.  It was like--I remember seeing them up at Song Bay.  ... [laughter] It was more like a Boy Scout jamboree than a military operation.  There were some good Vietnamese military units.  The South Vietnamese Rangers, South Vietnamese Airborne were very good units.  The regular, what you'd call regular Army units, "straight-leg," [a pejorative term for ground soldiers used by airborne soldiers], whatever you want to call them, were not very well disciplined.  ... I remember, we did a couple--I personally--with, well, some of our other guys, put in some Vietnamese troops.  I forget why.  I mean, it was a highly [rare occurrence].  It was once or twice, maybe.  They came out with a program called--it was in Vietnamese, two Vietnamese words which escape me, but it meant, "Working together," "(tan tian?)."  I forget what the Vietnamese words were, and we were supposed to be working [with them], giving [them training], like today, with the United States Army training the Iraqi Army to take over.  We were, theoretically, trying to get the Vietnamese to, ... you know, take over.  ... Now, you're in 1970 and they're trying to ... wind it down--never really worked out very well.  The regular soldiers weren't really very good.  The Airborne and the Rangers were more professional. SH:  What about other programs to win the "hearts and minds" of the South Vietnamese?  JP:  Well ... SH:  Were you involved in any of those? JP:  No, no.  ... My unit, we were strictly in combat operations.  We really didn't get involved with that kind of thing. SH:  Did you have any contact with soldiers from countries allied with the United States while serving in Vietnam? JP:  Well, not in our area, but ... there were Philippine units there.  Up north, there was the [South] Korean Tiger Division and White Horse Division.  ... The North Vietnamese didn't mess with the Koreans.  Koreans [were] pretty brutal people.  I mean, they didn't operate under the same rules that we did. SH:  Really? JP:  So, I mean, you had Australians there.  We ran into some Australian guys.  They had the British, the Canberra, bombers I saw operating out there.  I mean, there was a smattering of a lot of different things there.  SH:  Did you receive R&R [rest and relaxation] after a certain period of service in Vietnam? JP:  ... You were entitled to one R&R, which was, I believe, a week, eight days, something.  ... Of course, the married guys, like myself, we went to Hawaii.  I went to Hawaii to meet my wife.  However, that was in--see, I got there in March, April, probably in October--after about six months, but here's something you probably won't hear. We had "turn back R&Rs" in the First Cavalry Division.  "Turn back R&R" was, they had so many slots for R&Rs, ... if they weren't used, you could get one, another R&R.  I, in fact, had three R&Rs, one in Hawaii, to see my wife, and then, ... I went twice to Taipei. SH:  Really? JP:  In Taiwan, yes, "turn back R&R." PL:  How was Taipei? JP:  I liked it.  ... Back then, it was a big city, you know, was ... probably the same as many big cities.  ... People were very friendly, the Chinese, you know, Taiwanese.  They were American allies; ... wasn't the Red Chinese, that's for sure.  [laughter] No, they were [nice], you know, and it was really interesting.  I really enjoyed it.  ... I remember, they had a Chinese circus there.  It was in a building, like a ten-story building, and every floor had a different act, acrobats, you know.  ... Then, of course, there was a lot of drinking and partying going on.  ... One time, I went with my roommate.  He and I ... got to go together.  So, we had a good time on R&R in Taipei.  SH:  Was it hard to return to Vietnam after your R&R? JP:  To go back?  I wasn't real thrilled leaving Hawaii.  [laughter] It was a long flight and I can remember being, you know, not real happy about it, going [back], after being with my [wife], you know. SH:  Was it hard to readjust once you got back to your unit? JP:  Not really, no.  You go right back to work.  It's ... no big deal.  ... When I went on the next one, and when you get close to the end of your tour, any time out of country is good.  [laughter] ...  SH:  Did you become superstitious about certain things? JP:  You try to stay away from any [hazards], you know.  ... You get assigned your missions, but there are things you could do to really stay away from some of the more dangerous things.  I mean, as I got closer to the end, I tried to be more careful, more selective about my missions, but there were guys that were killed that were what we called "short," you know, within a week or two of going home.  So, you really couldn't get away, couldn't get out of doing [your duty].  You had to do your job.  You really did.  I mean, there were certain things you might be able to do, but ... you had to take your missions right up to the end.  SH:  How did your unit recover wounded or killed soldiers? JP:  Well, no, ... if we're pulling out people that are still alive, we would simply fly them to the nearest hospital, ... could have been, depending where we are, at Phuoc Vinh, had [the] 15th Med there.  We'd fly them there.  You had the 93rd Evac in Long Binh.  You had a hospital in Lai Khe, which was fairly close by, or you could take them to the nearest aid [station].  Every fire support base had an aid station.  So, if they were dead--we really, I never really, pulled out any, you know, what they called (line ones?) or people that were KIA--they would send somebody else out there to bag them and take them. SH:  Are there any other parts of your Vietnam service that we have not covered? JP:  Well, I mean, you kept trying to get at me at the political [aspect], you know, what we thought of the war and all that.  Now that I look back on it, I mean, we lost the war politically, not ... because we didn't have enough men, materiel.  We had five hundred thousand guys in Vietnam.  ... We've got Afghanistan and Iraq today--you've got less than two hundred thousand.  In Vietnam, which is probably a smaller geographic area, we had five hundred thousand guys.  ... We had the Navy.  We had the Battleship [USS] New Jersey hanging around.  We had strategic air.  We had B-52 strikes.  We had tactical air.  We had airfields in U-Tapao.  ... I mean, we had everything going on there, okay, and the reason we lost was because [of] the politicians, [and] the persistence of the North Vietnamese.  I mean, obviously, ... they waited us out, but, ... I mean, once we were gone, they walked over the [South Vietnamese].  You know, they just took over the country.  ... What people don't realize is the real killing over in that part of the world didn't really start until after we left--the death, you know, whatever they called it, in Cambodia.  [Editor's Note: The "Killing Fields" are the mass graves in Cambodia where millions of people were killed and buried by the Khmer Rouge regime that came to power in 1975.]  Fifty-eight thousand Americans were killed, God knows how many Vietnamese and, you know, civilians and whatnot were killed, and then, you had the enemy soldiers in North Vietnam.  That was probably nothing compared to ... the murdering that went on after we left.  People, the anti-war types, they kind of overlook that part of what happened. SH:  The Khmer Rouge. JP:  Yes, right, [the] killing fields, is that what [it] is?  Yes.  So, you know, you have to look at [that].  You look at things in a historical context.  You look at, in Korea, okay, same thing, we had a North and a South.  The South was on our side, North was against us.  We didn't finish that--look what we've got today.  We've still got the same situation, only they're going to be nuclear.  They're nuclear armed now in the North.  So, you've got a horrendous problem there.  First Iraq War, we stopped short of Baghdad, and was that good or bad?  I don't know, but we had to go back and finish the job.  So, now, Vietnam, you know, we pulled out, they took over.  There was all those massacres and everything.  The press never covered that.  Now, all these years later, you're getting a little bit--it's more normal.  I mean, it's sort of like they're becoming almost--even though the North Vietnamese government or the Communist government is in the whole country, we're allies again, sort of like Japan and Germany.  So, you know, it's interesting, you know, when you look at it historically. SH:  Have you ever thought of going back to Vietnam? JP:  Yes.  A guy that I served with runs a company that takes you back to Vietnam.  That's his business now, and you go back to where you were stationed.  You can also go [elsewhere]--like, I never was in Hue, you know, or some of the other famous areas.  I never was up at Khe Sanh.  ... I was strictly [there], stayed in my area, and, you know, I'd be interested in going back, seeing what's there in Phuoc Vinh, where I was stationed, and some of the other places I was--haven't done it yet, but I'm thinking about it. SH:  You talked about staying in contact with fellow soldiers and having to attend the funeral services for two of your comrades. JP:  Yes, they buried both guys on the same day in Arlington. SH:  Have you gone to reunions? JP:  All the time.  Yes, I belong to any number of veterans' organizations--too many to be effective, I think.  ... Locally, I belong to the Vietnam Veterans of America in Union County.  So, I work there.  I belong to the VHPA, which is the Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association, which is an organization just of pilots, no crew chiefs, no door gunners.  They have their own organization.  They have the reunions I go to.  I belong to the First Cavalry Division. They have their alumni association and I go to their reunions periodically.  ... Then, my unit in Vietnam, the First of the Ninth, has their own reunions every other year.  It's called the Bullwhip Squadron, and the reason they call it that is because that was their call sign when they first went over.  ... I go to those every other year.  ... Most of the time, they're held at Fort Rucker.  This time, they're having it at Fort Benning, because they were ... originally formed up at Fort Benning, years ago, in '65.  So, yes, I participate.  I belong to the VFW, although I don't participate.  I belong to the American Legion, although I don't go to their meetings.  It's just too much.  There are too many organizations, but, ... in the local one, I'm on the board of directors, and so, in the other ones, I go to their reunions and all that and I enjoy it.  ... SH:  When you returned to the United States from Vietnam, you were still in the service. JP:  Here's what happened to me.  I served three years, two months, nineteen days, okay, but who's counting, right?  [laughter] Okay, at the end there, in '71, when I ... still had time left on my commitment, however, they were having a draw down, okay, ... they had too many pilots, too many.  ... So, I was released early.  So, when that happened; ... after I left Vietnam, I went back to Fort Wolters, Texas, to be an instructor pilot, okay, went there for a year, was released from active duty, went back to New Jersey and joined the National Guard.  I went back to--I lived in Rahway then, now, I live in Clark--but I ... went back home, went to work for my family's business, Rahway Lumber Company, and I did that ... until we closed.  About thirty years, I worked there, until the business was sold. SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, and when I returned to New Jersey, I joined the National Guard in Westfield.  Strangely enough, they had an Air Cavalry unit in Westfield.  Helicopters were at Linden Airport.  So, I flew there for another six years. Then, I left the service, left the National Guard, and went back to school, back to college, strange place called Rutgers University, to get my MBA, which I did on the GI Bill.  So, I went four years to Newark at night, while I was working.  Then, after I finished, got my MBA, I went back into the service, but I wasn't flying anymore, ... no longer on flight status.  ... I served in a unit at Fort Dix for a number of years.  ... Then, I developed a case of cancer and couldn't keep up, so, I had to drop out.  ... I served in the active Army, I served in the National Guard, went to school on the GI Bill for my master's program, and then, continued on [in] the Army Reserve.  It was actually at Fort Dix.  I was there for a number of years, and then, finally, had to leave.  So, that's ... what happened after I went back. SH:  How many years did you have in the Reserve?  JP:  I had about ten or twelve years in, but I couldn't [stay in].  I wanted to stay, if I could, but, medically, I couldn't do it.  SH:  You were given a military medical discharge. JP:  No, I just had to leave, but I enjoyed it.  I mean, I loved it.  I would have stayed.  If I had to do it all over again, I probably would have stayed in the Army, as a pilot, if I could. SH:  Could you tell us about your current affiliation with Rutgers? JP:  Well, like I said, I got my bachelor's, and then, I have my master's, MBA, at Rutgers, and then, I went to a meeting down here at the Rutgers Club in New Brunswick.  I forget how I was [invited].  ... I don't remember.  I got a letter.  It looked like a free dinner, okay.  [laughter] So, anything you get free from Rutgers, you want to take it.  So, anyway, I went over here to the Rutgers Club.  ... It was the Rutgers School of Business Alumni Association and they were looking for trustees.  So, I signed up.  So, I served on their Board of Trustees for the School of Business Alumni Association, up until the time that our friend Dr. McCormick decided to change the alumni situation here at Rutgers and we had no more affinity groups.  It was all one big, happy family, the RU--something or other--AA, whatever they changed it to.  ... They changed the nature of the organizations, and so, I decided not to be a trustee anymore, but I did it for about fifteen years, I would say.  I enjoyed every minute of it. [Editor's Note: In 2007, Rutgers University reorganized its alumni system by creating the Rutgers University Alumni Association, a new association to represent all Rutgers University graduates.] SH:  You are also involved in the mentoring program. JP:  Well, yes, ... I do that.  That has yet to come to fruition.  They're having some problems there.  They haven't figured out a way, I think, to meld the mentors and the mentees together.  I don't hear positive things about it--not to say it's a bad thing.  ... They sent us a letter, about giving us some names of students, and you call them and they don't know what you're talking [about] or they don't want you, they don't need you, whatever.  I mean, ... so, yes, I think they still have some work to do with that, but I do that, yes.  SH:  Did any of your children attend Rutgers? JP:  No, no, [laughter] but my two sons, are crazy, nutty Rutgers football fans, but neither of them went to Rutgers. They have season tickets, spend thousands.  I mean, they have six seats.  It costs them, I don't know, three, four thousand dollars a year, whatever they overcharge you for football tickets here.  ... SH:  [laughter] That is true. JP:  But, no, my older son ... started off at the Air Force Academy, and then, transferred to Johns Hopkins, and then, went on to get a MBA at Loyola and a law degree at Fordham.  My younger son went to Gettysburg College, and then, graduated from there, and then, went to Georgetown Law.  ...  SH:  You have two lawyers. JP:  Two lawyers, yes.  My wife ... got a teaching degree from Kean University.  ... After I sold our business, I got a teacher's degree.  I got a certificate ... to be a social studies teacher.  I took the Praxis test.  I don't know if you know what that [is], yes, and so, I have a little piece of paper somewhere at home in my desk drawer that says I'm a teacher of social studies.  So, I don't teach full-time, I substitute teach.  Then, I decided I had nothing else to do, so, I went out and got a real estate license.  So, I do dabble in real estate.  So, I remember standing in front of a class of high school students, and I was sixty-two or three, and they're complaining about high school.  ... I held up the book, I said, "I'm taking a test.  I'm sixty-three years old.  I'm still going to school.  Stop complaining." [laughter] PL:  They always complain. JP:  You know, I mean, one of the things, also, ... after I got out of the active Army, along with getting my MBA, while I was in these Reserve units, I ... took the armor officer advanced course, Command and General Staff College, aviation accident safety course--I took a bunch, you know.  I did a lot of schooling over my time.  SH:  Was there ever a possibility of you being called to active service? JP:  No, because, during that time; ... it's only since the Iraq War where they started to take National Guard and Reserve units and move them wholesale, you know, as units, into the combat theater.  In Vietnam, there were no National Guard or Reserve units called up.  Individuals could volunteer.  In fact, we had one--one of our gun pilots was from the California National Guard--but that was rare.  It just didn't work like that back then.  They didn't call up whole units.  In fact, joining the National Guard, like, you remember with President [George W.] Bush, they were complaining that he joined the National Guard so [that] he didn't have to go to Vietnam.  [Editor's Note: President George W. Bush served in the Texas Air National Guard from 1968 to 1974.]  They simply ... forgot that he was a jet pilot and that he had to go to flight school, had to do a lot of things, you know, but, anyway, ... that was one of the things that the Vietnam War was [known for], that ... if you could get into a Reserve or National Guard unit, you probably weren't going to go to Vietnam.  ... I consider it [that] you still served your country.  Not everybody, ... you know, is destined to go into combat.  I mean, it's still an honorable thing to do, even if you thought it might keep you from going to Vietnam, you know what I'm saying?  If you sign up, you sign up--that's all.  You serve, you serve. SH:  How were you treated when you returned from Vietnam? JP:  You know what?  We came back, at least I came back, and a lot of us came [back this way], we didn't come back en masse or in units, like they did at the end of World War II, where they came off the ship and they marched down Fifth Avenue.  No, I flew in, you know.  I got off the plane in Travis Air Force Base.  I quick ran to the airport at San Francisco and took the first plane home.  I didn't run into any kind of, you know, virulent anti-war sentiment directed against me personally, okay.  I mean, in fact, ... the first thing I looked for was a unit to join.  I wanted to stay in.  So, I went right into the National Guard.  ... I remember, we didn't have any problems.  I remember, we flew our helicopters and landed at Westfield High School, and we landed right in their athletic field, let the kids look at the helicopters.  I obviously knew what was going on and, obviously, I was a guy--I was a Vietnam veteran for the war.  I mean, I believed in what we were doing one hundred percent and I had no use for, you know, draft dodgers or, you know, civil disobedient types, I guess.  SH:  What commendations did you receive? JP:  A bunch.  [laughter] PL:  I have the résumé.  JP:  You want me to read off my résumé?  I know what I got.  [laughter] SH:  I saw pictures of you being given medals. JP:  Yes, well, I received three Distinguished Flying Crosses, Air Medal with "V," Army Commendation Medal with "V," Bronze Star, like that--a couple of awards from New Jersey for service, New Jersey Merit Award, New Jersey Distinguished Service Award ... with Silver Oak Leaf Cluster.  So, you have to figure that one out. [laughter] ... Yes, you do these things and that's what happens. PL:  How was it to transition from flying in Vietnam to becoming an instructor for other helicopter pilots? JP:  ... It was a challenge.  I really enjoyed it.  ... We flew in these little TH-55 [Osage], Alphas they were called then.  It was good work.  ... One of the funny things is that Fort Wolters was ... right outside of Fort Worth.  You had Dallas, Fort Worth, Weatherford, Texas, and then, Mineral Wells is out there, okay.  ... Our heliports were on the military base, but the staging fields--where we actually did the training--was on public or private, I'm sorry, private land.  The Army contracted farmers' pastures and they would fence them off and put a tower in there and we would do our [training].  ... We'd pave it for them and we'd have our own airstrips and helipads, and we'd go out to these different--we called them stage fields.  ... Every morning, one of my jobs was to go out there and herd the cattle, [laughter] because they would open the gates and let the cattle, their cattle, go through in there.  I'd have to fly out there with my helicopter and ... I'd use the helicopter like a horse, you know, and herd, actually herd, the cattle that were on the stage field off the stage field, land the helicopter, close the gate, then, call the rest of them out to come in and start working.  [laughter] SH:  Please, describe the pilots. JP:  ... My students were a mix.  We had Vietnamese students, but I never had foreign students.  ... We trained the Air Force helicopter pilots, a little known fact.  The Air Force did not have its own helicopter school. SH:  Is this true? JP:  Navy did, Air Force did not.  They came to us.  Later on, I'm sure that changed, but I had a couple of Air Force guys that I trained.  I had a couple of guys from the National Guard.  National Guard had flight units and they ... had the ability to send some of their guys through flight school.  So, I had a couple of National Guard guys, and then, a couple warrant officer candidates--a various mix.  They were, you know, pretty good.  I mean, you had to have something on the ball to go to flight school.  They weren't all college graduates, ... like I was ROTC and all that, but a lot of them--you still had to pass the mental test, the physical, you know, [be] physically fit, you know. You had to have the desire to do it and you had to have, you know, the wherewithal.  So, most of the guys that went through flight school had something on the ball, I would say. SH:  Thank you for coming.  If there is something that we have not asked that you would like to share, please do. JP:  Well, ... I mean, I want to say that, you know, when you're in the military, okay, you take the oath to protect and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign or domestic--and, if you're a history major, then, you write me a three-page paper on what constitutes a domestic enemy--but that's the oath, okay.  ... When you take the oath, ... my opinion is, what you're really saying is, "It's my country right or wrong."  You really don't take the oath of office and say, "Unless the President is a Republican or a Democrat.  Then, I'm not going to do it."  You don't get that option, okay, or, "Unless I believe in what's going on or I don't [object]."  No, once you take ... the oath, then, you've got to go where they send you.  ... I don't have any sympathy for somebody who joins the service, and then, decides that, "Oh, I think that's an illegal war," you know.  You really don't get that option.  You hope that [it works out].  You know, our country's set up [where] the politicians say where to fight, and then, the Army or the military go and do the dirty work, but you really don't ... get the [choice].  If you want to be in politics, go into politics; [if] you want to be in the service, then, it's your country right or wrong.  ... You have to, you know, ... take the orders.  ... That's just my opinion.  There are many reasons why the military is deployed, and the deployments are well-planned by military experts.  A soldier follows orders. SH:  Thank you for sharing that with us.  I hope that when you get the transcript back, if you see omissions, you will fill them in. JP:  Yes.  If you want me to come back and do more, I will.  I mean, I enjoyed it.  ... SH:  Was your unit well-supplied in Vietnam? JP:  Okay, we had an incident where they were being very protective about rotor blades.  They said there was a shortage of rotor blades, for some reason, and, one night, we were mortared and the mortars fell in our flight line and shredded all the blades on our Hueys.  ... Within a few hours, they had changed them all and we were back on. So, somehow, they were able [to do that].  We got first priority because our unit--as any cavalry unit [would], but I'm only talking about the First of the Ninth, and as it related to the First Air Cavalry Division--we were the eyes and ears of the division.  ... We were out there all the time, hunting the bad guys, shooting them up, starting things. So, we were high-priority.  ... If we lost a lot of aircraft, we got replacements.  I really can't remember a time when we had to stop operations because we didn't have what we needed.  SH:  You described crawling away from your helicopter in the book The Headhunters.  [Editor's Note: Author and Vietnam veteran Matthew Brennan documented the stories of his fellow pilots and crewmen, including James Pressman, in his book, The Headhunters (1988).] JP:  Oh, yes.  ... I told you, the first few weeks, I was on the ground because I was temporarily medically grounded.  ... We had an aircraft that ... crashed out up close to the Cambodian border, and it was in--I didn't know it at the time--but I finally realized it was in a bomb crater, ARC LIGHT.  ARC LIGHT is a B-52 strike, and, when they're dropping all those bombs, they blow open the jungle and you can see, you know, all [of] the hole, this thing in here.  [Editor's Note: B-52 strategic bombers deployed in support of ground operations throughout Vietnam operated under the codename ARC LIGHT.]  Whoever this guy was, he had crashed his helicopter in the middle of one of these bomb craters.  In one of these open areas there, there was a bomb crater. So, we went in to secure the aircraft that was on the ground.  I went in with ... what they called the rigging team. We were going to sling load this thing out, and it was a Cobra.  ... Normal procedure for ... slinging a Cobra gunship out is, you'd take the ammo off it, you'd drain the fuel tanks, you know, but it was later on.  It was getting dark and it was really in "bad guy country" and we didn't want to hang around.  So, they just rigged the thing to be slung out.  When the Chinook picked this thing up, the strap broke and the Cobra fell down, crashed right in front of me and it caught on fire.  So, you know, ammunition and rockets were going [off].  I mean, it really [laughter]--it was exciting, and so, I turned, stayed [low].  You know, you have to crawl.  I didn't want to stand up, because I would be cut in half.  So, I stayed on the ground like a spider, used my fingers and my toes and crawl along until I came to the bomb crater and jumped into the bomb crater.  SH:  You were actually out of your helicopter. JP:  I wasn't in the helicopter.  I was on the ground.  I wasn't flying at this particular time.  I was flown to this area, with the ground platoon and the rigging team.  That was standard procedure when we have an aircraft that wasn't totally destroyed.  If it was still intact, we wouldn't leave it out there.  So, we'd rig it.  If it was a little bird, a small helicopter, we could sling it out with our own H model.  We could sling out a Loach, because it was not that much weight, but a Cobra is much bigger.  We had to use a Chinook, call in a Chinook to sling it out.  So, we were waiting there and, when this thing picked it up, it was rigged wrong.  Something happened and the strap broke and the thing crashed and it burned up in the LZ with us there. SH:  That must have gotten your attention. JP:  Yes.  I was happy to go back to flying.  [laughter] SH:  There was another story where you were laying on the ground. JP:  Oh, yes.  Well, that, I was in that hole, that thing was burning and the machine-gun ammunition in the Cobra was cooking off and you could hear--it sounded like popcorn.  ... The rockets, the aerial rockets, were igniting and shooting out, you know, going out.  They didn't have any particular direction.  They were snaking on the ground, going up in the air.  ... I guess the helicopter must have exploded, the fuel, whatever, and I was in this bomb crater and I saw all this white phosphorous.  I don't know, it was coming over my head, so, I jumped out of the bunker and ran into the jungle, into the tree line.  ... A few feet into the tree line, I tripped over something and ... I laid down, ... just in case any of these things were flying around.  ... Later on, a flare ship came in and, when they were going to pull us out and dropped the flare, ... I was in a graveyard.  I could see it was fresh dug graves there, because the NVA would take [their dead], wouldn't leave the bodies there.  They would pull them out ... if they were killed by the bomb strike, whatever.  They'd pull him into the jungle and bury him, and so, I was hiding behind one of those mounds.  You could see the mounds.  You know, it's obvious what it is, yes. SH:  You must have been happy when the helicopter pulled you out. JP:  Oh, yes, I was very happy to leave that place.  [laughter] SH:  Did you keep your logbook? JP:  No, you don't keep them.  They stay with the airplane. SH:  Do they? JP:  Yes, the maintenance log was in my [helicopter].  ... Our personal flight records were kept by a guy in the tactical operations center.  [There] was a guy who was in charge of that, and then, they'd be incorporated into your permanent records. SH:  Your best diaries are the letters that you sent home. JP:  Yes.  ... A lot of it is there.  Actually, the best thing is the tapes, some of them.  As I listen to them, ... it's hard to imagine some of the things I said, you know.  I know--it's funny--the one thing I kept saying over and over again, that I don't remember, I was always telling my wife, "I'm tired."  Every tape, every letter I wrote, at the end, I would say, "I'm really tired.  I have to go to bed."  ... I don't remember that, but, obviously, that must have been what happened.  SH:  That is pretty interesting.  JP:  Yes. SH:  You mentioned previously, and I wanted to follow up--what was a "sniffer mission?" JP:  ... Oh, yes, a "sniffer mission," it was called.  Sniffer mission--we would fly to division headquarters and we'd pick up a piece of equipment, I guess is the best way to call it.  ... It would sit in the middle of the airplane, the helicopter, and they'd put this hose out the front, okay, and we'd take on a chemical officer and an enlisted guy, his assistant, who ran this machine, and then, we would fly a prescribed course, okay.  ... We would have with us a Cobra, and this is a gunship.  ... The guy in the front seat of the Cobra--the pilot--would have a map with the course and he'd be there to protect us in case we crashed or something.  ... We would fly low-level, right on the tree line, and this machine would pick up the smell of--I guess the best way to put [it] is, when a lot of people urinate, there's a smell of ammonia in the air, whatever it is, that chemical that this machine is sensitive to--and it would [find that].  You'd get a reading.  When it got a reading above a certain level, they'd know that a bunch of men had stayed the night there, whatever it was, and then, the guy--my crew chief--would throw a smoke grenade out.  ... When the guy in the high bird or Cobra would see the smoke, he'd mark it on the map.  ... If you did enough of these sniffer missions, and I wasn't the only one doing them, you could begin to see the infiltration routes, where they were coming into the country from Cambodia, or wherever they were moving around.  You could sense or pick up large movements that way.  I don't know that it was a precise science, but, ... when you combine that with other intelligence, with the sound listening devices we would put in and other things, you could get a picture of where they were moving.  ... You could find out, like, for instance, if they were massing to attack a particular base. You could see it in that kind of intelligence. SH:  Did your unit have good intelligence? JP:  Yes.  ... We had something--there's all kinds of interesting things going on.  We had something called the "double check six," which is a helicopter with all kinds of radio gear on it, and what it would do [was], it'd monitor enemy radio transmissions.  ... Their call sign was "double check six" and they could actually follow, direction find, an enemy radio signal right up to an NVA soldier with a radio on his back.  They could actually track him down, if that's what they were doing.  So, we had that.  ... You know, when you put it all [together]--it was never one thing. Intelligence is never one thing.  I mean, you might be able to capture a map or a guy and he'd tell you something, but you have to build the whole picture.  So, the sniffer missions, the sound listening devices, the Ranger teams doing reconnaissance, ... capturing a map--you'd put it all together and you could get a picture of what was going on. SH:  Did your unit have any interactions with the CIA? JP:  The boys with no name tags?  [laughter] SH:  The CIA, yes.  JP:  Those guys, no.  Air America was there.  I saw their planes in Saigon.  We had--there were mercenaries in Vietnam, not Americans.  They were called ... Hmongs or something like that.  They were ethnic Chinese that lived in Vietnam.  ... CIA would arm them and send them out to hunt.  I didn't [get involved with that], but ... we never really interfaced with those kinds of guys.  We were strictly, mostly, straight up military operations, you know, First Cavalry Division.  I think the First Cav, when they brought them down into where they were in III Corps, around the Saigon area, [it] was to block infiltration of the NVA to try and take over Saigon.  ... We were positioned between Cambodia [and Saigon], the Parrot's Beak, the Elephant's Ear, which were areas where ... that's where they invaded.  When they invaded Cambodia, that's where they went in, part of where [they went in], you know, right there.  ... So, that's what we were doing there, and we were like a blocking force.  SH:  Were you in Vietnam during any of the "bombing pauses?" JP:  I was in Vietnam when they had a three-day [truce].  ... The North Vietnamese declared a three-day truce for Ho Chi Minh's death.  It was September of 1969, early September.  [Editor's Note: Ho Chi Minh died on September 2, 1969, at age seventy-nine.]  ... I was flying a mission, a Ranger mission.  ... A couple of days before, we had found this place where we wanted to put them.  ... I was taking the actual Ranger team in--it was during the ceasefire.  When I landed in the LZ, apparently, these guys were on break.  The bad guys were right in the LZ and they were sitting up against the trees, smoking and joking, okay, and I put this Ranger team right on top of them.  ... By the time I landed on the ground--the minute you land, they jump out, the Rangers--I couldn't get them back in and they started shooting them up, shooting up the place.  So, I had to take off.  ... We called in the contact and the Cobra rolled in and killed a bunch of them.  Anyway, so, I came back in a little while later and pulled them out, because it was too hot to leave them there.  They were compromised already.  SH:  Really? JP:  Yes, but that was on, supposedly, a ceasefire for Ho Chi Minh's [death].  [laughter] SH:  There was no ceasefire for your unit. JP:  No, no.  SH:  The war was also televised. JP:  Yes, yes.  ... My mother told me that my father would sit every night and watch the news, you know, [to try to] see me, but, of course, you know, I mean, all you would hear is how many guys were killed, Americans.  ... The problem with that war was, one of the problems was, you couldn't kill enough of them.  That's why this body count thing was useless, because, even if it was true, over a ten-year period, I mean, the kids that were four, North Vietnamese, that were four or five years old, ... in ten years, we're fighting, you know.  They had replaced [the casualties].  They continually replaced those that they had lost.  So, it didn't make any [difference].  ... In the end, it really didn't make any difference how many [were killed].  I mean, they were constantly being replaced and ... the North Vietnamese were more interested in--they would sacrifice two, three hundred guys to attack a fire support base, or more, to kill one or two Americans, or ten or whatever.  They were fighting a war for the anti-war movement back here, you know.  It didn't matter that we killed three or four [hundred], whatever it was, didn't matter, because they had killed five or six Americans.  That's what got reported and that's what was driving, you know, the politics of all this.  ... SH:  The body count backfired. JP:  Yes, in a way, in a sense. SH:  There are pictures of American servicemen helping small children in Vietnam. JP:  Yes.  ... I mean, this business of "baby killer" and all that stuff the liberal press tried to pin on us--American soldiers would rather feed a kid than hurt him, okay.  American soldiers, if we found a child that was hurt, we'd fly him to a hospital.  We'd take care of him, you know.  We didn't, nobody--unless there was something really [wrong with someone].  You know, I mean, you get bad apples in every bunch, but 99.9 percent of us would never go out of our way to hurt a child or to kill innocent people.  Now, you had the My Lai Massacre.  You know, those things happen in war, but, I mean, we had five hundred thousand guys there, you know, and it was a ten-year war, probably five, six million people, American servicemen, because we rotated in and out in Vietnam.  I mean, there would be no children left if we were all baby killing, you know what I'm saying?  That was just a political thing.  It's like today, when they try to say, you know, "blood for oil" in Iraq.  Well, you know, I didn't see President Bush and Vice-President [Richard] Cheney getting rich on oil revenues because they took over Iraq.  ... You know, it's just slogans and politics, is all that was.  The liberal press is to blame, also. SH:  Did your military service influence your career afterwards? JP:  Well, I mean, you know, it made civilian things seem less menacing.  I don't know how else to put it to you. Things that happened in my business were, "No big deal, at least you're not trying to kill me," you know.  [laughter] ... When you're under tension like that, and the threat of [death], threat of [harm], for a whole year, I mean, it makes other things pale in comparison, ... I guess is another way of putting it.  I don't know how else to put it for you. SH:  Thank you for coming in and sharing your story with us. JP:  Oh, sure. --------------------------------------------END OF INTERVIEW-------------------------------------------- Reviewed by Jovelle Tamayo 7/1/11 Reviewed by Nicholas Molnar 7/25/11 Reviewed by Shaun Illingworth 8/3/11 Reviewed by James Pressman 10/27/11    

Seward, Walter

KP:  This begins an interview with Walter Seward (RC '17) on December 30, 1996 at West Orange, New Jersey, with Kurt Piehler, and MC:  Melanie Cooper, SH:  Sandra Stewart Holyoak. KP:  I guess I would like to begin by asking you a few questions about your parents, your mother and father.  We read in one of the Rutgers publications that your father was a church elder and also a civil engineer. WS:  Right. KP:  I was wondering what led him to come to New Jersey? WS:  Well, ... that's simple enough.  My great-grandfather was a minister, and when he retired he moved from Middletown, New York down to Vineland, because it was what they called, at that time, a local option town.  And where he figured it would be better for his family to be in an area like that, rather than some other places.  And so he bought a farm of twenty acres, and retired down there.  ... When he died he left it to his son--and well, to his widow--and then the widow left it to their son, who would be my grandfather.  ... When he died, he left it to my father.  So we were living up at the time near Albany, a little town called Ravena, twelve miles south of Albany at the time my brother was born . ... In order to save the property and the interest in it, we moved to Vineland in the old house down there, and that's been our family home ever since.  My father rebuilt the house, so it's entirely different today from what it was originally. KP:  For your grandfather, it sounds like temperance was a pretty important issue for him. WS:  Well--my great-grandfather. KP:  Great-grandfather. WS:  Well, for the whole family for that matter, yeah. KP:  That played a big hand in why he selected Vineland to live in. WS:  Yes, right.  Yes. SH:  Have you carried on with the Presbyterian faith?  Are you an elder in the church also? WS:  No, I've never had that honor.  But my father was an elder in the Vineland church.  As a matter of fact, he helped to build the present church in 1913, he was on the building committee.  And much of the church structure is a result of his expertise. KP:  Do you know how your parents met? WS:  Well, all I can say is they met at the Congregational Church in Lansing, Michigan. SH:  What was your father doing in Lansing, Michigan? WS:  Well, he was living there as a young man, because on the maternal side, there was another prominent family, by the name of Bement who were manufacturers of machinery. ... He sort of had an inclination, and liked machinery, so he went to Lansing to see what he could earn, and that's how they happened to meet there.  Grandmother's family all lived in Lansing, and knew the Bements, of course, they all went to the same church.  So that's how my father and mother met each other. KP:  And then they moved back to various locations over the years to ... and upstate New York, Ohio, Ontario. WS:  My father was also an expert in conducting commercial lime operations.  There was an opening up there that they were trying to establish, so he went at that time to establish a business up there at a lime kiln.  We were only there a year when my grandfather died, and in order to save the property, my father decided that we should move to Vineland.  And that's where our family always [has] been ever since. KP:  So your family home in Vineland, is it still in the family? WS:  Yes. KP:  Who is living there now? WS:  Well, some rather unsatisfactory tenants who don't pay their rent. Betty Seward:  Nobody in the family now.  Walter's sister lived in it for a number of years after their mother died.  And when she died, almost nine years ago, since then we've had various tenants. KP:  Where did your father work when he moved to Vineland? WS:  Well, he worked first at the old soldier's home.  Where he ran the electrical department.  They're weren't many opportunities, and so he took ... that job.  Then he established his own business as a civil engineer.  One of his big jobs which he undertook was to take over the making of the tax maps of Landis township.  And he died in an accident in October 1917, ... he left that unfinished.  I was just out of college, so I didn't know anything about it, so I took it over, and I made the map (1918-1919). KP:  How did they ... WS:  Took a couple of years to do it. KP:  Had your father trained you how to do the work? WS:  No, I had done some field work for him, but he hadn't trained me at all.  I ... didn't take an engineering course at college, so I didn't know much about it.  But I learned as we went along, and there was quite a lot to it, but we finally got it all done.  It was a map of a couple of hundred sheets, each two by three feet which fitted together, make one great big area ... about twice the size of this house.  It was made in accordance and approved of the State Engineering Department in Trenton. KP:  Your mother, it sounds like she was fairly active in the church. WS:  She was, yes.  She was one of the officers of the charities ladies' missionary society. KP:  Was she involved in any other organizations besides the church? WS:  No, I think not.  That seemed to take all the time she had. KP:  After your father's death, did your mother work at all outside the home? WS:  No, my mother always kept the family going. SH:  How many siblings did you have? WS:  Oh siblings?  I don't like that word. [laughter] SH:  How many brothers and sisters? WS:  I had two sisters and a brother. SH:  Older or younger? WS:  Younger.  He was the youngest of the family. ... We lost him.  ... BS:  That was about the end of World War I, the flu epidemic. KP:  Influenza. BS:  Yeah, he was one of the first ones. KP:  Did your parents expect you to go to college?  Was that always part of their plan for you, that you would go to college? WS:  No.  Circumstances were not favorable.  Well, the way I got to college was this: when we moved from Ravena to Vineland, ... I had my first year of high school up in Ravena.  But I moved to Vineland, their school was a little more advanced than the Ravena High School.  And so I had to make up some work, and the only way to do it was to do it in the summertime.  So I went to the school principal in Vineland, to see what arrangements to make.  And he referred me to James Morrow, a young Rutgers man who was then attending Rutgers by the name of James Morrow, a very brilliant boy, and he tutored me during the summers with the makeup work and so forth.  And he told me about Rutgers scholarship exams which could be taken, and if you passed, and got one, they would pay your expenses at Rutgers.  Because, that's what he had done.  And so in my high school junior year, I took some exams, and took the rest of them at the end of my senior year at high school, and somehow or other they gave me a scholarship.  So that's how I got to Rutgers.  He took me to Rutgers and looked after me and found me a room, and a roommate, and so forth and so on, he got me started there. KP:  So James Morrow was pretty important to you. WS:  Yep.  He was very important. KP:  What happened to him after college, what was his story? WS:  From college--he graduated from college in 1914, he went on to Harvard Law School, and graduated there in 1917.  The year I graduated from college, he graduated from Harvard Law. KP:  It sounds like he might have had an influence on your going to Harvard. WS:  Well, yes, yes. ... That's true. KP:  I assume he had a legal career, James Morrow. WS:  Yes.  Yes, he did.  In New York City, Yep. BS:  As far as your family was concerned, though, they valued education.  Had your mother gone to college? WS:  No, mother was a schoolteacher, but she hadn't gone to college. BS:  In those days one didn't need to.  But both your sisters went. WS:  Yes.  They took college courses. BS:  And both of them became teachers. WS:  Yes. BS:  It was a family that did value education, definitely. KP:  Had you considered any other colleges besides Rutgers? WS:  When I was quite young, I thought I was going to go to Cornell, when the boys were talking, you know, big talk, oh where they were going when they got through school.  The name Cornell fascinated me. [laughter]  I don't know why, because I didn't know anything about it. KP:  Growing up in Vineland--to this day the area around Vineland is still very agricultural. ... WS:  Pretty much, yes.  It's always been some industry there.  And I guess the first industry was the Welch Grape Juice Company.  Right next door to the high school.  The building almost burned down, or would have, except I was crossing the schoolyard while I was making the tax map, and one evening I saw a flame in the building in the back of it.  So I ran right over to the firehouse nearby.  Firemen came and put the fire out.  But by that time, in the years before it, Welch had moved up to Westfield, New York, where they've been established, oh, it'll be at least a hundred years, more than that. KP:  What did you do for fun growing up in Vineland? WS:  What did I do for fun?  Well, I have to put it this way.  I didn't have much time for fun except I would--we had a small truck farm, and I used to help plant and pick beans, sweet potatoes.  One year we had a big dahlia farm, and things like that.  Tomatoes, and we would ship to--by way of a broker there in Vineland at the station.  We would ship our products to New York by train, and we still have the wheelbarrow down in Vineland that I used to cart these big hampers full of beans and tomatoes, and goodness knows what, you know.  It was quite a job. SH:  Did your sisters help with the farm at all? WS:  My older sister did.  My younger sister was a little bit too young to do that kind of work. KP:  You said you had a small farm, but how many acres was it? WS:  Well, half of it was in woodland, and the other half was clear. KP:  And it sounds like that kept your family very busy. Because your father had a regular job as an engineer. WS:  Yes. ... Of course, at harvest time when we had to pick beans we had to hire, you know, pickers to come in day to day.  And, of course I, as I say, didn't live in Vineland very long, I was off to college in 1913, so it really only was about three years.  Then after I was out of college, I was home for a couple of years before I went to law school, and then after that, I came up to Newark, and I've been up here in North Jersey ever since . KP:  Having moved to Vineland, did you ever miss Ravena, and New York?  At first, did you miss it? WS:  Yes, I did, because the people up in Ravena were very, very friendly, and in a short time we got to know everybody and it was a nice small town, you know.  Down in Vineland it was quite a different area--different class and type of people.  Foreigners, especially Italians.  We had never been mixed up with foreigners at all, up to that time.  It was quite a change for us. KP:  So I imagine that you heard a lot of people speaking foreign languages, Italian and other languages are very common in Vineland. WS:  Well, mostly Italian. ...  There, the Italians are good workers.  They're ... not afraid to work, and they have a job, they go ... right to it and get it done.  Born in them, I guess. ... They were very successful at farming.  And, of course, there was a big poultry center, too.  People from all over would come to Vineland to establish themselves in the poultry business.  And that lasted for quite a while, but eventually it petered out.  And there's still quite a bit of farming down there. KP:  Did your family farm up in Ravena, New York? WS:  No, no. KP:  So really this is a new experience. WS:  My father was busy with establishing this lime business up there.  And so we didn't have a big estate up there. KP:  It sounds like your father was very successful. ... WS:  He was a self-made man, and I wish I had his brains. KP:  Going to Harvard Law School is a pretty impressive feat. WS:  Well, they took me in.  I stopped on the way up, I stopped in New Brunswick at the college, because I couldn't find my college diploma which was needed as an entrance requirement at Harvard Law.  ...I stopped there, and I got a letter from Luther Martin who was the registrar, and ... that satisfied Dick (Ames?) the secretary of the Law School. KP:  Did you ever find your diploma? WS:  Oh, it's around somewhere.  I don't know where it is.  I got a lot of stuff down at the home yet that we never brought up. KP:  When you came to Vineland, was there a movie theater in town?  Was there one Ravena? WS:  They started one in Ravena while we were there, yes.  They charged fifteen cents, but I couldn't go there, I didn't have fifteen cents. KP:  So when was your first movie did you take in? WS:  Oh, I guess it was there.  And we could go to Albany, they had a good movie in Albany.  And whenever we went there, we could usually ... go to see a movie.  But in Vineland, they didn't have a movie for ... a few years after we got to Vineland. KP:  Your parents, politically, in the early 1900s, who did they favor?  Did they favor Roosevelt or Taft or Wilson? WS:  Well, all I can say is, as far as I know, our family has always been Republican.  ... When I was in school there in Toledo, ... they had a mock election for the children, you know.  And I voted for Taft, because he was the Republican nominee at that time.  But we always admired Teddy Roosevelt, he was a great man.  After we moved to Vineland, he was engineering the Bull-Moose Party, you know, and he came through, and gave us a talk from the platform at the rear end of the train right there at the station.  So I saw Teddy Roosevelt. KP:  It sounds like your family were Bull-Moosers, that they favored Roosevelt over Taft in '12. WS:  I think so, yes. KP:  How did your mother and father feel about the vote for women?  Was your mother in support of suffrage or was she against it?  And how did your father feel? WS:  The question never arose.  We never had any ... KP:  Never had a discussion about it. WS:  ... about that.  It wasn't an issue. MC:  Did your mother vote once she was allowed to? WS:  Oh yes, oh yes. KP:  In coming to Rutgers, how difficult was Rutgers your first year?  A lot of people we've interviewed said their first year was a tough one, including Carl Heyer.  Although he even argues his sophomore year was his hardest year. WS:  Well, I was pretty green.  I was just a small town country boy, you know, and I had never been away from home on my own, and Jimmy Morrow helped me out, and there was another fellow, Jim Hanford, Class of '15 who also filled in when Jimmy Morrow wasn't around.  So ... they helped me along, and eventually I got into things.  I had to wear a little black cap with a green button on top, you know, as a freshman. KP:  And did you have to carry matches for the upperclassmen? WS:  Oh, sure. ... Oh yes, we had to carry matches, yes.  And not only that, but ... one time as a freshman, when starting the football season, and Rutgers was going down to Princeton, I carried the suitcase of White, one of the Rutgers men down to the station for him. KP:  We also came across, in one of the yearbooks, a description of your junior year that said, "You never think him an athlete, at 105 he tips the beam ..." WS:  "... Yet all the same, he played a great game at right guard on the class football team."  I got in one play. [laughter]  And that earned me my numerals so I could wear a hat with my numerals on it.  I got it around here, once in a while I take it down, for reunion.  Betty usually wears it. KP:  You did not make your mark as an athlete, except you did play one play. WS:  I used to go up on the field every day and watch the ... varsity team practice.  ... Sandy--Sandford, you know, George Foster Sandford--was the new football coach who really established football as a real business, you know, at Rutgers.  And it was very interesting, of course, I didn't know anything about the fine points of the game, but I used to be right there to see the men in  practice, and I guess probably it was in my junior year, we had a younger man, lower classes had just come--Budge Garrett, he ... came up from Peddie. ... He was a real athlete and a football man.  I remember in practice he was carrying the ball, came around the end, almost as it-- turned to me as we are now, and ... one of the men on the scrub team tackled him and brought him down and when he hit the ground the ground shook. KP:  It sounds like you enjoyed football a lot. WS:  Yes, well, ... when we lived in Toledo-- ... of course, I was in the ... sixth, seventh and eighth grades there--the football field was only a block away from where we were living, and I used to go over there Saturdays and do chores and [things] like that, and they would then let us come to the game free. ... Sometimes, after our chores were done, we'd go home ... and the game would be in the afternoon, so we'd go back, and there'd be a different man at the gate who wouldn't let us in, so we had to climb a high wooden fence. SH:  Do you still follow Rutgers football? WS:  More or less.  Not as much, perhaps, as I used to.  But I'm always interested in it. KP:  As a college student, what was your most memorable game that you remember watching?  Does any particular game stand out? WS:  I think just offhand it would be the game with West Virginia when Rogers, I think was his name, he was a wonderful athlete. And ... for the first time--nobody had ever seen it before--he threw a forward pass half the length of the field and everybody just gasped.  They'd never seen a forward pass before.  That fellow Rogers played on the team, oh, two or three years while I was in college.  He afterwards became the head of the athletic department in West Virginia at Morgantown.  So offhand, that always stood out as one of the big times. KP:  After graduating, do any of the games stick out in your mind? WS:  Well, in ... 1969, the hundredth anniversary when we played Princeton and won that game. [laughter] KP:  There was a big rivalry between Princeton and Rutgers particularly over football. WS:  Yeah. KP:  Do you remember, actually maybe I should have Melanie ask this question, about the cannon. MC:  Were there any cannon wars while you were there? WS:  No.  No, that was long, long since. MC:  Well, they still do it today.  Nobody went down to paint the cannon or steal it? WS:  ... No, nobody bothered about the cannons when I was in college.  There's that one in front of Queens that's always been there.  But that's the nearest we ever came to cannons. KP:  What did you major in at college, at Rutgers? WS:  I took what they call a classical course. ... We had to take Greek, that was the main distinction from any other course, we had to take Greek to be an A.B. ... Then, of course, I ... had Latin, continued my Latin at college.  Junior and senior year took Roman Law, and also Constitutional Law under (Scottie?) who had been president, and was an excellent teacher, and whose son proved to be an excellent teacher up at Harvard Law too. ... [Of] all the men up there, I liked Scottie's son, he was a great guy.  Just like his father. KP:  So that professor sticks out. WS:  Yeah. KP:  Sticks out the most for you. SH:  Did you have mandatory chapel? WS:  Oh yes, oh yes.  All the time I was at college and for a few years afterwards, chapel attendance was required.  And the juniors sat on one side of the main aisle, seniors on the other.  The freshman way over on the far side and the sophomores way over on the other wall.  While I was in college, let's see, it would have been my sophomore year I think, they revamped the interior of Kirkpatrick Chapel and made it what it is today.  Before that, there was, where the front part, the organs and choir loft all that is ... there were two floors there, and the president had his office on the first floor, there was a large lecture room, and a small library on the second floor.  But, when we went back for our junior year, the chapel had all been done over to what it is today.  And made ... quite a change.  And it's a good thing too, because by that time, the enrollment had increased from around 400 to something like 600, and you got everybody in chapel at the same time required space, you know. KP:  You mentioned one of your favorite professors, were there any professors who you did not care for? WS:  Dutchie Davis. ... He taught French, and he, oh, he was a terror.  And he had his little book and if you didn't put the (scintillae?) in the right place, he'd mark you off a tenth of a point or something like that.  And ... I had to retake the course with him, I didn't like him and I guess he didn't like me, so he stuck me. ... The second year I had to take it with the Class of '18, and up to that time, the course for first year French always had been the same, ... but he changed the course on me, and we had ... to read a different book.  So it was ... entirely new, but I didn't get along with him in the second year at all, I didn't know what I was going to do.  And I was working in the library during the summertime, so I went to Dutchie Davis before the exam and-- this is all confidential--and I asked him if he'd be good enough to give me a list of books ... or French reading books that I could continue my interest, ... [of] course in French, you know.  Well that hit him in the right spot and he passed me.  That's the way I got through French. ... KP:  Do you remember President Demarest? WS:  Oh, of course I do.  Yes indeed, yes, very much.  ... He was a real college president.  He had the bearing, everything, you know.  And ... he was wonderful.  A lot of fellows didn't like him because he was austere in his manner, and all of that, but he was the head of things. ... Oh yes, ... he ran things ... with a firm hand, but I always admired him.  I liked him, because he was a real college person.  They've ... never had one like him since. KP:  Really, in all the presidents after him.  One of the things that impresses my students to this day is the social life that the old Rutgers had before World War II.  That in fact, the Junior ball, and the Military Ball, and the Senior Ball, did you go to those events? WS:  ... No, I wasn't qualified for things like that. ... Of course, more in the junior and senior year I got into a few things, but ... those affairs were for the fraternity boys.  But because the undergraduates of the college, in that respect, was all run by the fraternities. KP:  You felt that not being part of the fraternities you were left out.  A lot of people have told us that the key offices on campus were taken by fraternity people. WS:  Oh yes, oh yes. KP:  Had you thought of joining a fraternity? WS:  No, I wasn't in the position where I'd be able to handle it--I couldn't spend much time on social life like that.  I had odd jobs when I was in college. ... Oh!  We used to go up on Saturdays and rake leaves at what was known as the Parker House then. (Strombergs?) are living there now, at that time.  And we'd rake leaves and do things like that, you know. ... There'd be a group, oh, half a dozen of us.  And then I got a job down at the Daily Home News, when the office and plant was still down on Hiram Street, and taking papers off the press as they were printed, you know, the daily newspapers.  And then they gave me the job of being the messenger taking the news, New Brunswick news to the New York newspapers about three times a week.  So I'd take the news up to the Times, and the Tribune, and the World, and the Journal and so forth.  ... Of course, they paid my ... railroad fare and at each office where I delivered the news they paid me fifty cents.  So that was--I would study a little bit on the train as I could, you know. ... The paper was owned and run by the family of the Boyds at that time. ... KP:  Had you thought about going to law school while you were in college? WS:  Well, sort of, I guess. ... As you have said, I was influenced pretty much by Jimmy Morrow and so forth, and I figured I couldn't do any better. KP:  Had you thought of the ministry at all? WS:  Well, yes, but I didn't have enough imagination.  My father was an excellent speaker.  He was really good.  But I didn't inherit much of that. KP:  Although it was listed in the yearbook that you were sophomore orator. WS:  Well, you know, a few of the boys would sign up for it, and I got in on it, too.  But by the time the junior year came around, things were a little different.  By that time, the boys who had any ability ... would really come out on top, don't you know, to be chosen.  They'd always have preliminaries. MC:  Where did you live when you went to school? WS:  Oh, I lived in Winants all four years.  In the south end. KP:  You were at school when Rutgers celebrated its 150th anniversary. WS:  Yeah. KP:  There was--I saw in the yearbook and read in the bicentennial history that there was a massive pageant put on to celebrate.  Do you remember that pageant? WS:  Well, only in this way, from the outside.  I wouldn't go to it, because everybody else in the class, ... it seemed to me, was given a part to play, and I was overlooked completely.  And so I ... wouldn't go, I stayed on campus.  It was all held out at the college farm.  I didn't go to it. KP:  Did other people not get a part? WS:  I don't know.  It seemed to me the whole college was there, I think I was the only one left out. [laughter] KP:  You were going to Rutgers at the time that World War I had broken out in Europe.  Do you remember there being a debate on campus what America's role should be? WS:  Oh, I guess there was a lot of that talk going around.  I don't remember anything in particular, if sides were taken one way or another about it.  I think the whole college was very patriotic, and half of our class or more pulled out the senior year you know and never got back. KP:  Had you thought of enlisting in World War I?  Either interrupting your college or enlisting after graduation? WS:  Well, I had thought about it, and, but then, they had the ROTC and all of that regular course, but the ... men in the classical course were not required to take the ROTC, just those in the scientific courses.  But they did have a few opportunities for men who wanted to see what it was like wearing an armband, or carry a gun or something like that.  And that was run by the fraternities too. ... So it was--I might have gotten into it, but as I say, my father and I were in an automobile accident in October 1917, and I fractured my leg.  So I was out. ... I was on the list, called, you know, but they passed me up. KP:  Because of your leg. WS:  I suppose, I don't know.  I never ... was told. BS:  Maybe also, because of your father's death. WS:  But that was the main reason I ... never got in.  I wouldn't pass the muster. KP:  Do you remember, you were at Rutgers, he was an underclassman, but do you remember Paul Robeson? WS:  Oh sure, of course.  Everybody asks me that, everybody.  Sure I knew him.  I knew him very well--that is, I say very well, he was two years behind me, don't you know.  But in those days, everybody knew everybody on campus, and we always spoke as we passed.  And we always tipped our hats to the professors, and they in turn acknowledged.  And there was quite a lot of college spirit. -------------------------END OF TAPE ONE, SIDE ONE---------------- KP:  Go ahead, please.  In terms of college experience. WS:  Well, the college was so small, that you know, everybody knew everybody and so forth.  You felt a part of something, and that I think makes a big difference.  Today a man goes to college, and I don't know whether there's much college spirit or not--maybe there is.  But I'm not around to find out really for sure.  But it's too big for that today. KP:  When did you sense that it was getting too big, that the Rutgers you knew had slipped away? WS:  Oh, of course that ... would be many years after I was out of college, when the new regime would be pushing, you know, for larger enrollments and all that kind of [things].  ... KP:  It sounds like you thought small was better. WS:  Oh yes.  Oh yes.  But now you take a man like Abraham Selman Waksman.  He was Class of '15, ... you never saw him around at anything.  You'd see him walking across the campus now and then, but he was never a part of anything that I know of.  But, of course, he took scientific courses anyway.  But he didn't seem to enter into any of the atmosphere that you expect from the other men. KP:  Were there any other men who didn't get involved with the life of the college? WS:  A lot of fellows who were commuters.  Oh, ... they were looked down upon, especially the fraternity men wouldn't have anything to do with the commuters, you know.  They were just coming in to grab what they could get and take it away.  [laughter] KP:  One of the things that at least people I've interviewed from the 1930s and 1940s who went to Rutgers is they associate the fraternities with automobiles.  Did any of the fraternity men have automobiles in your time? WS:  No, no. SH:  There was a pecking order between the fraternities, and men such as yourself who lived on campus, and then the commuters.  Were there any other biases, or prejudices that were part of this pecking order? WS:  Well, I could only answer that by referring to one particular situation.  We had a young fellow right off the farm who had matriculated with us as freshmen, and he didn't dress properly.  He was ... he just didn't want to be anywhere near ... he was right off the farm, and he didn't amount to anything so far as college was concerned.  I don't know what became of him.  Carl Ruh.  He might have been just as smart as ... all the rest of us, but he didn't associate himself, he didn't want to be associated with anyone like that, you know.  He ... couldn't be friendly.  Everybody dressed the way you're dressed today, you know, when I was in college.  You wore decent clothes, a tie, you know, and the fraternity boys all, of course, wore vests in those days, and they had to have a chain across from one pocket to the other, don't you know.  All that stuff.  That set the stage. KP:  What about canes, were canes still a part of the outfit for someone from the fraternity? WS:  Canes? KP:  Yes. WS:  No, no, no canes.  They were out by that time.  I have somewhere in the house, I don't know where it is now, but I have a cane and it was used by men back around the 1860s, and it has their names carved on it. KP:  There was no Douglass College or New Jersey College for Women when you arrived at Rutgers. WS:  No, that started the year after we graduated, in 1918. KP:  Where did people find dates, because there was no NJC? WS:  Well, ... there was a girl's school on Bayard Street. ...  I've forgotten the name of it now.  There were some nice young ladies who went there, and once in a while you'd have a dance in the gym and invite the girls over. ... Otherwise, I guess the men had to bring the girls from their hometown, as a lot of them did.  On special occasions. KP:  You were at Rutgers when the war was actually declared.  Do you remember any activity at Camp Kilmer, and how that impacted the area? WS:  Oh Camp Kilmer hadn't been established yet. KP:  So it would be established after you had left. WS:  There was no Camp Kilmer at that time, that there was established after I was out. KP:  Is there anything we have forgotten to ask about your Rutgers- -being a Rutgers student?  Are there any other stories? WS:  Any stories ... KP:  Any stories or anything you think we have forgotten to ask you about? WS:  Well, where in Winants Hall today, there is a little cafeteria, that was only the beginning of it. ... And it wasn't a cafeteria in those days.  The dining hall included that part and all the rest of the building all the way down to the north end.  And it was pretty well filled, all the college men and pretty much except those fraternities that had their own dining rooms and [things] like that, ate there.  One of the professors, DeRegt, a chemistry professor, lived on the third floor in the center of Winants Hall, and he and his wife would come down and sit over in the corner with some of the other boys. ... But it was a real dining hall.  The waiters--all the waiters were colored.  They dressed in full regalia, they had a towel over their arm, and they waited on you.  Four dollars a week.  That was another occasion when a good number of the college men got together, don't you know, at meal time. KP:  So it sounds like you enjoyed living at Winants. WS:  Well, it was convenient, and yes.  You see the men you knew, don't you know, all the time, and if you were a fraternity man, why of course, you'd live at the fraternity house.  If they had room for you. ... But otherwise, the friends of mine, they all lived in Winants. SH:  Did the professors have their meals with you? WS:  Just this one. SH:  Just the one. WS:  Just that one.  Because he and his wife lived on the third floor, right in the center, and none of the other professors ever showed up to eat there. SH:  Was your graduation ceremony from Rutgers different from what they are today? WS:  Well at that time, the graduation exercises were held at the Second Reformed Church at George and Albany Street where that little bit of a park is today.  I don't know what that signifies, but ... there was a big brick church there, the largest one in town.  And they used to parade from the campus down to that church and back. SH:  Do you remember the speakers?  Did you have a speaker at your graduation? WS:  Yes, but it would be pretty much a college affair.  The speaker would be chosen from the senior class, don't you know.  The valedictorian would really be the speaker.  And they'd have a local band come in and sit up in the balcony and play dirges and all stuff like that, you know.  It was pretty somber. KP:  The Rutgers you went to in many ways was a Dutch Reformed School. WS:  ... Oh yes.  And Demmie was a Dutch Reformed preacher, ... and he came down from Catskill. ... He's the only Rutgers man who has ever been president. BS:  Did most of the students come from New Jersey? WS:  Yes, yes.  There were a few who--like Graham Pelton, Class of '18 from Essex, Connecticut, you know.  And there were a few from out of state, but for the most part they were all New Jersey men. MC:  And were a lot of them on scholarship also? WS:  Yeah. SH:  Did you feel terribly inferior to Princeton men? WS:  Well, Princeton men at that time, maybe properly or not, looked down--or were supposed to look down upon us.  We felt as though we weren't quite on the same plane as Princeton men, and not quite in their class. SH:  In looking back, do you think that was really true, or did you feel that your education was on par with the Princeton men? WS:  Oh, so far as the education was concerned, we never doubted that we weren't getting a good education.  We had some good professors.  Scottie, who had been president, he taught economics, and constitutional law in our junior and senior year.  Poppy Kirk taught Latin, right up on the third floor of Queens, as you face the building on the left of the third floor.  And he sat in a swivel chair with a high back up on the platform about this high above the main floor, and there was a big hunk of plaster in the ceiling about to fall down and he'd always sit there with his legs crossed underneath that big piece of plaster.  It's a wonder it never fell. ... It didn't seem to bother him at all.  But the students would take a look at him, and a look at that, don't you know, and wonder when's it gonna happen?  But it never did, not while I was there. ... He was from Goucher, I think, if I'm not mistaken.  He was from Goucher, but ... he was along in years.  But he knew his stuff, and ... he was a fine teacher. ... Very considerate, very patient.  He would go to ... any trouble to correct your papers and so forth, you know.  He really worked at the job, he was very nice and kind. KP:  Do you remember when you were in college, any reunion weekends?  Were you on campus for any of the reunion--alumni reunions. WS:  Yes, well, you see, the reunion was held on commencement day.  There was a combination of commencement and reunion, and you couldn't tell one from the other, you know.  It was all one big time. SH:  How much interaction between the Rutgers College students and the town of New Brunswick was there? WS:  Oh, there wasn't any, there wasn't any interaction except when they had the parade down George Street and the men would get a little too excited, you know, and maybe raise a ruckus and they'd have to call the police out.  But that's about the only time that I know that there was any interaction between the college students and the town. BS:  Well, you worked in the town.  Did other students have jobs out in the town? WS:  Oh yes, sure, there were a lot of fellows, like Marcus Aurelius Canfield, don't you know, he had a job at the Jersey Lunch down on Albany Street.  And there were ... other men who had different jobs, some of them good, some of them not so good.  I tended furnace among other things, one year.  And go chop wood up for a man over in Highland Park in the mornings sometimes.  Things like that, you know. KP:  After graduating you went back to Vineland, and your father unfortunately passed away, and it sounds like you finished his job ... WS:  Yeah. KP:  ... making the map. WS:  Right. KP:  It sounds like you learned a good bit about surveying and ... WS:  Well, ... I had to do the surveying, yes, and I did. KP:  And I read that later you, in the early 1920s you went to Asheville, North Carolina. WS:  Yes, ... I was down in Asheville for nine months, and I worked for all the engineers in town, you know, odd jobs.  And that was very nice.  They were all nice men.  I've never met, or been associated with any men on the outside, you know, nicer than those surveyors and engineers. KP:  What led you to North Carolina, why did you take this job? WS:  Oh, I'd been working there in Vineland, I had a job over at the Kimball Glass Company, I had to raise a little money, don't you know, and I didn't know just what the future was going to be.  And I got--I worked for them for about a year or so.  And it was time to sort of branch out and try to find myself.  I'd been ... to college, you know, and I was at home while making the tax map.  And I wasn't sure that I was really qualified to ... compete with real engineers, 'cause I hadn't had that training.  And I wasn't--I've never been good at math, I can sit here in the evening late at night working on accounts, things like that, and I add a column of figures three or four times, you know up and down, and it always comes out different.  And finally I just have to give it up.  You've got to be a mathematician if you want to be an engineer, and I realized that--the competition--I wouldn't be able to meet the competition, the real engineers, you know.  I have friends who were like, I mentioned his name a while ago, Graham Pelton, Class of '18, he helped me ... on the math, but mostly in preparatory material, we had to go over to Bridgeton, the county clerk's office and take off descriptions from the records in order to know how to plot the various parcels.  Because we showed every parcel of land that joined each other ... on this big tax map.  But ... I went down there to see what it was like.  I'd heard it was a great place, so I ... because I had a little engineering work in connection with the tax map, I naturally looked for ... that type of work down there, and I liked it, enjoyed it.  And I got into--in later years I realized ... I could have been in some mix-ups.  Like, one of the engineers, took me with him and we went out, took a train to a station Marshall near Asheville, and then we--somebody led us ... in an old Ford car, took us way back up in the hills, and we stopped at the houses on the way to tell the people who we were and why we were there, for the benefit of the insurance companies who wanted us to locate a barn that somebody had burned down and shot somebody up and all stuff like that, you know. ... On one occasion, we were going out for a-- ... what are these animals, not raccoons, ... possums. KP:  Possums? WS:  Possums, yeah.  We were staying overnight, way out in the back country, ... and we got there late in the day, we had to locate a barn that somebody had burned down because they were having a fight.  And so they decided--we stayed with a native in his log cabin house, you know, and they decided that we'd all go out and have a possum hunt.  Well, I'd never been a possum hunter, I didn't know what a possum looked like.  But, it turned out, they weren't interested in possums, they were interested in establishing a plume, like putting up a post, or something, only it would be a pile of stones, on where the neighbors were fighting as to who owned a certain piece of land.  One man thought he owned it, and the other man put up a fence, you know, and so forth.  So we, instead of fighting possums, ... climbed a fence at night, and some of the men put up a stone where they thought the line ought to--the corner of the property ought to be.  But before they did that, they gave a random shot or two to notify the man who lived over there, on the other side of the fence, that there was somebody out around with a gun and he'd better stay home, because one of those bullets could accidentally find a stray place to go if somebody was in the way of it.  So, I had a few experiences like that, you know. KP:  It sounds like it was a very different part of the country. WS:  ... I went down there, and I, there was something in the back of my mind fascinating about a sheep farm, and I thought, oh, that sounds sort of interesting, I wonder what they do, you know, and what it would be like.  So I went down, and I went to see ... one of the men, he had an office, I guess he was a lawyer, and told him why I had come to town. ... He discouraged me from investigating it.  I was a northerner, you see, and the people out in the hills were very suspicious of any outsider who didn't live, you know, the way they do, or did up in the hills.  He discouraged me from even considering it for any reason at all, so of course, the next easiest thing was to tie it with some of the surveyors in town, so I would work for them, odd jobs, as occasion called for.  This one incident I speak of, is one of those. KP:  The possum hunting.  Being in hill country, I imagine the music was very different.  Do you remember that at all? WS:  No, I didn't see or hear much about that. KP:  What about the food? WS:  Well, the food was pretty much native food.  ... Of course, Asheville was a city, don't you know.  It was a big town. ... Just about like any other town.  I got along with the town people all right, didn't have any trouble there. KP:  You did some surveying work, did you then go to Harvard after the surveying work, or did you work elsewhere? WS:  No, I left Asheville in September, came back to Vineland and went right on up to law school. KP:  And had you considered other law schools besides Harvard? WS:  Well, I thought this. ... I've never seen a law school, I didn't know what it looks like, and so I--well, I had seen and investigated Columbia in New York, that's the only one.  And I thought, well, on the way up I'll stop in New Haven and see what Yale looks like.  I couldn't imagine anybody would want to go to Yale, although a Rutgers man had just graduated from there and made out very well, but I saw the room he lived in, ugh! KP:  What was wrong with the room at Yale? WS:  Huh? KP:  What was wrong with it? WS:  Oh, ... it was in a ... frame building, and hadn't been kept up, and it was dreary, and dirty, and uninviting. And I couldn't imagine myself having to live in a place like that, you know.  And I didn't like the looks of their ... classroom.  There wasn't anything inviting about it at all.  So I went ... on to ... see Harvard, and I told the secretary in the office Dick (Ames?) ... that I had been to Columbia and I had stopped to see Yale, and he sort of sneered at the idea that I would even stop in New Haven to see the place.  So I was quite satisfied to stay ... in Cambridge.  It was at night when I got there, and I had my suitcase, and Harvard, you know, Harvard Square is very busy.  You ever been there? KP:  Oh yes. WS:  Up in Cambridge? KP:  Yes. WS:  Well then you know what I mean.  It's even busier today, but it was a busy center.  I went into a restaurant and got something to eat, and I was standing outside wondering what I was going to do, where I was going to be for the night.  Some young fellow saw me standing there, and he came over and wanted to do what he could for me, standing out in front of this restaurant, so he said that ... he had a room in a house, but he had decided that he wasn't going to stay ... it didn't appeal to him, he was going somewhere else, and there would be a chance for me to have his room.  So what can you do, eight, nine o'clock at night, you know, not knowing where you're going or what to do.  So I picked up my suitcase and went with him, walking down one of the back streets, I stayed with him all night, and the next morning he left and took his things, and I left a note that I was willing to take over his room, it was in an apartment.  And the people who were living there had an extra room which they rented out. ... So when I went over to [the] law school, of course, busy all day long, I went back at night to the room and found they had taken all my stuff out and put it in the hallway and locked the door.  So, [laughter] I had ... another experience of trying to find a place to stay overnight.  But I found one somewhere. KP:  Where did you eventually live after all these experiences? WS:  I lived in various places ... not far from Harvard Square.  I eventually, my first year, found a room--we had two rooms, a study room and another room that we could use for a bedroom, for two of us.  And I put a notice on the ... bulletin board at the law school that I had a place for anybody who needed a room, and a fellow from Whitman College out in Washington showed up and answered my little note on the bulletin board, so we roomed together at number 12 Sumner Road.  And unless you're really familiar with Cambridge you wouldn't know where that was, but it was right near the yard, a couple of blocks away.  A nice place. KP:  My wife is from the Boston area, so for example our wedding invitations came from the Harvard Coop. WS:  Oh really.  Oh well, then you know all about it. KP:  When I first went up to Harvard Square, I think I was still in college, I was surprised at how busy Harvard Square was.  I even thought to myself, how can anyone get any work done, because it's so busy. WS:  I know, it's too busy.  Of course, there's a lot of local business there, even at that time, but they tore down some of the old buildings and put up big office buildings and stuff like that, you know.  And they were always making over the subway station. KP:  They still are. WS:  It was the end of the line, you know, and they were always making over, making changes there for years.  But they finally got it, now the subway is extended, you know way up to ... KP:  Alewife. WS:  What do they call it? KP:  I think it's Alewife. WS:  Yes, that's it.  Alewife. KP:  How difficult was your first year at Harvard? WS:  It was tough. KP:  Because the first year of law curriculum is a pretty tough one for most. WS:  Yeah, pretty tough.  I didn't like it. ... The first class on torts.  We went in a great big room, in a semi-circle, you know, continuous desks and chairs, and platform for the professor.  And it was in torts.  Of course, I didn't know what a tort was.  And here this professor was up there, ... he just ... shot off his mouth all the time, you didn't know ... what he was talking about or why. ... It was very discouraging.  Well, after a while of course you get used to those things, because you have to.  You'd better or else you don't stay.  As they told us at a reception at the beginning, he says, you men are here, but remember the door swings both ways.  Well that had nothing to do with Rutgers except one of the men was Scottie, Scottie's son who taught procedure.  And as one of the upper ... third year man would say, ... all the men would take any course that Scottie taught.  The first year men he taught procedure.  And ... he was good, we liked him.  Just like his father. KP:  What was your most difficult course of your first year courses?  Because a lot of people have said it's property. WS:  The first year of college? KP:  No, at law school.  A lot of people have said property was their toughest course. WS:  Well, ... in this way, the professor was Bull Warren, and he was a bull, too.  Oh, he had no regards for anybody and he let you know right off.  He said one day, ... there was a man from Iowa or somewhere up that way, Mr. Reeser, he was a little older than some of the men, and he was asking him a question about a case.  And Reeser wasn't quick enough, he wasn't much of a student anyway, and Bull says, "Well, we may as well draw the white sheet over Mr. Reeser and pass on." KP:  Did Mr. Reeser make it through law school, or did they in fact draw the curtain? WS:  He stuck it out.  His wife ran a dining room at Brattle Inn.  It was a big old house, and ... she ran a wonderful home-cooked meals there, but very, very business like, and a very nice person.  In fact she was--my third year there, I made arrangements that I would get a job during the summer and pay her my board bill, and so ... she was very, very nice. KP:  Of the first year curriculum you had, were there any courses you particularly enjoyed?  Or in general any areas of law that you gravitated to, that you enjoyed? WS:  Well, I enjoyed Bull Warren.  As a matter of fact, my first day or two they had assigned me a seat ... way up in the back, you know, the room holds about 300 men or more, and I had a seat at a bench way in the back, and there were some vacant spaces down in front.  So I was reassigned to the very first row bench, right under his nose, down in front.  Right in the center. ... There was room on this bench for eight or ten men at the most, well I was right ... right in the center, and like all the others I kept my nose down in the book, I hardly ever looked up.  One day, however, he was explaining--Bull Warren was explaining something, and I got my nerve up, and I said to him, "Would you repeat that please?"  And he looked at me, and he says, "I never give encores!" (laughter).  And he went right ahead, and he said it word for word right over again.  That's the type of man he was, but you had to hit him just right, you know.  But ... I enjoyed property under him, and I also enjoyed, we had another professor, Joey Beale.  My roommate called him "the little butcher boy!"  He wasn't very tall, and he was sort of rotund, and he didn't try to put anybody down, he was a good lecturer and he was nice.  You felt sort of at ease with him, but he was very profound.  I remember ... one day, in one class, we had a fellow, his name was Weissbord, and he was a sight, and he wanted to make his presence known, and pushy type.  And Joey Beale was talking one day, and finally this fellow put his hand up, and ... asked after Joey Beale ... had finished, ... he said, ... "Isn't that being technical?" to Joey Beale, you know.  You don't talk to Joey Beale like that, you know.  He's too nice a man for one thing.  And so everybody just let it go, ... nobody liked that ... interruption like that, you know.  So about a week later, Joey Beale was lecturing again, and he happened to get this man ... Weissbord, you know, a conversation with him, and he led him along, he led him along.  He knew what he was doing, ... and everybody listened.  ... And finally he asked Weissbord a question, he said, "Isn't that being technical?"  And the whole room just roared, oh immediately!  You know.  Oh, it was wonderful.  So what are you going to do.  It's tough.  Awfully tough.  But ... KP:  At Harvard, what type of law did you think you'd specialize in, what did you hope? WS:  I wasn't sure, but I rather thought possibly corporate law.  There seemed to be a lot of money in that.  And Bull Warren had taught corporate law, corporation, and I took that course.  But I wasn't ... quite sure.  But I finally wound up with mostly ... real estate law down in Newark.  ... I served my clerkship with the attorneys for the Fidelity Union Trust Company which at that time was the biggest bank in New Jersey, and these partners had been employees of the bank, but there was a rule that a corporation couldn't practice law, and they were practicing law as employees of the bank, you know.  So they had formed the firm that I was their first clerk. KP:  How long did you stay with Hood and Lafferty? WS:  I was with them, let's see, the better part of a couple of years.  And they didn't expand, there wasn't the opportunity to feel that you're getting anywhere.  So when I passed the bar I thought maybe I'd get a promotion or something like that but there wasn't anything coming.  So I went over to work in the title company, where ... their original offices had been when I first went to Newark in one of the Prudential buildings.  They all were very nice to me, they were very nice. KP:  I have interviewed an attorney who I also worked for Hood and Lafferty, Alan Lowenstein.  Do you know Alan Lowenstein? WS:  Just in a more or less.  Not too well. ... KP:  One of the things he said about practicing law in New Jersey in the 1920s and 1930s up until the new constitution was that it was a very--law in itself can be very difficult, but that New Jersey sort of managed to make it even more difficult, even for an attorney who was just out of law school it took a while to figure things out. WS:  Well, I guess it would be true anywhere.  When a man got through law school, he wasn't trained at law school to be a lawyer.  ... --------------------END OF TAPE ONE, SIDE TWO--------------------- KP:  This continues an interview with Mr. Walter Seward on December 30th, 1996 at West Orange, New Jersey, with Kurt Piehler MC:  Melanie Cooper, SH:  Sandra Stewart Holyoak. KP:  And you were saying how law school trained you not to be a lawyer, but how to think like a lawyer. WS:  That's what we decided because, you know, you graduate law school, you didn't know how to handle a client.  How to foreclose a mortgage or do anything practical.  But, it gave you a start, so that you had a basis for continuing to learn the mechanics of practice.  Now I think today ... they have courses on, you might say, the mechanics of practice.  I think ... they're more liberal in that respect today.  I've done a little research working and being a member of one of the law clubs which required a little research for them at law school, but ... I didn't like it very much because, well, it was too much of a drudge.  And they didn't teach you how to make use of the library.  Quote you something out of ... (Encyc 1), ... "What?  What is this man talking about?" (Encyc?) was the encyclopedia of law, and all the laws, you know.  Big thick book.  Who knows what that's like?  So when I served my clerkship, I had to teach myself how to use law books, and what law books were available, and what the procedure was.  And even though I didn't like some of it, I had to use it, and eventually I ... overcame the dislike of it. KP:  Did you ever do any trial work in your career? WS:  I wasn't a trial lawyer, no. BS:  ... pro bono, is that what they call it? WS:  Pro bono? BS:  You were assigned cases ... WS:  Oh, I was assigned a couple of criminal cases (laughter), but ... they weren't jury cases. ... I was ... too green about the practice and procedure when I got out of law school.  I expected to continue an education from the men I would be working with, you know.  I didn't know the first thing of what to do. SH:  Where did you go from the title company? WS:  Well, ... during the Depression, I went over to New York.  Because you couldn't get a job anywhere, and I figured that there's no better time than right now to get admitted in New York, and I figured I could get admitted on motion.  I had almost five years in New Jersey as a member of the bar, and in fact I had been admitted as an attorney, and then three years later it was (-------?) exams as counselor, so that I had almost five years of practice in New Jersey when the Depression came along.  I went over to New York ostensibly to be admitted on motion, because they would accept a man from another state if he had five years.  Well, my five years wasn't quite up yet when I went over to the first department, that's Manhattan.  And so they wouldn't let me register for the first department.  But they let me register over in Brooklyn, in the second department, because my admission to the bar with five years would accumulate during that period of time before the day for making the motion would come up. Well ... I had to study New York law, and ... instead of being--I was admitted on motion, but in order to qualify to be admitted on motion, I had to take a private examination by the head of the committee who sat down at one end of the long table, and he had a stenographer from New York's district court right here taking every word down, and somebody else, I guess a policeman, sitting over there on the other side, and I was down at the other end of the table.  He asked me all kinds of crazy questions I never heard of: "Who was Hugo Grotius"  I asked one of the fellows here who went to Yale Law School, he'd never heard of Hugo Grotius.  Hugo Grotius was the man in the Dark Ages who invented the corporation.  But you don't need to know that to practice law today, don't you know?  He, for three hours!  I finally made it.  I don't know how, but I wasn't good for much more when that was all over. ... So I got admitted in New York.  Well, while I was in New York, in Hoover's administration, they started up the HOLC.  Homeowner's Loan Corporation, to help out people who couldn't pay their mortgages, and ... try to make it easier for them, you know.  And so I got in the New Jersey office of the HOLC, a friend of mine really got the job for me.  I was in New York and things were still at a standstill, and there was no chance of making money anyway, at that time, and there was this HOLC which offered a little money.  Over in New York I was just an ordinary office boy.  I got fifteen dollars a week, and I lived over on Staten Island in a room with no heat.  That was one of the most severe winters they ever had. ... I used to take the ferry in, a couple of girls ... on the ferry, which was crowded, I'll always remember.  The bay was frozen over, and one of the girls said to the other, she says, "The ice is full of bay." (laughter) So I come back to New Jersey, and they discovered down in Washington that I had been living in New York.  So I wasn't qualified to be employed at the New Jersey state office.  So what to do? ... I was qualified, however, to work in New York, so they transferred me over to the New York regional office, and made me the advisory attorney for New York, New Jersey, ... and Connecticut.  Of course, I didn't know too much New Jersey law, and I didn't know--and I knew some New York law, I didn't know anything much about Connecticut law.  But I had to handle problems in all three states. KP:  What types of things did you handle? WS:  Well, it would be legal problems were the questions that would arise, and in connection with a man owning property, and unable to make the mortgage payments, and how much time would be given them to try to work things out. ... All kinds of questions.  A lot of questions of estates, sometimes corporations. ... I had all that type of work to do.  To advise the attorney who was in charge as to what the outcome would be. KP:  How did you get your job with the HOLC?  Did you have a friend? WS:  A friend of mine had returned from the war, and had been associated with where I was working, and so he told the state council about me, and they looked me up in New York.  Because they had problems in New Jersey, and they wanted somebody who knew how to handle it.  So, that's the way it worked out. SH:  How long did you stay with the HOLC? WS:  Oh, let's see, how long was it all together?  Until after the war.  It--oh, I don't think I'll be there to see four years.  I forget even at that time ...  I hadn't, while I was in New York, I hadn't taken my vacation time, or sick leave or anything of that sort, and I needed some dental work done, so I took time off for that.  And because it was free time and my paycheck would come in anyway, when I came back they greeted me with the news that that was my last day.  So, the best I could do then was to come back to New Jersey and foreclose mortgages for the HOLC which I did for two or three years.  Things were easing up, you know, and still a lot of people couldn't meet the requirements and obligations.  Foreclosure was the ... only solution.  We tried to get what they called a voluntary deeds, if we could.  To save having litigation, but there was plenty of litigation involved. SH:  Did that cover all of New Jersey?  Foreclosures all over New Jersey? WS:  ... Oh yes.  I've passed on real estate titles all over the state and in every county. KP:  How many foreclosures did you do on an average month?  Roughly? WS:  Oh, maybe a dozen. KP:  And of these how many would be voluntary, and how many would you have to litigate? WS:  Oh, about half and half I would say probably. SH:  Did you have a large staff working for you? WS:  I had to do all the work myself.  I was office boy, I was everything.  I was stenographer, I was secretary, I was handyman.  That's the way it was, because actually that was the beginning of holding up, don't you know.  After the war we didn't need to carry out that system. SH:  Did you at least have an office for files? WS:  I had an office where I was living.  Down in the center of Newark. SH:  What did you think of Newark coming from South Jersey, like Vineland? WS:  Newark proved to be an entirely different place from what I expected. I don't know that I care to elaborate on that at all. SH:  Why not?  Please. WS:  Well, when you're going to college, and when you're going to law school, you can pick your friends.  But when you get out in the business world, you deal with people who may not be your friends.  And it may be so different--their answers are entirely different from yours, you know.  It's a different world. SH:  Did you take part in any of the cultural activities that Newark was known for at that time? WS:  I couldn't see much cultural activities. ... I thought it might be nice to be a member of the New Jersey Historical Society, to meet a nice class type of people, you know.  But they were ... like this ... KP:  You found them very cliquey, cliquish. WS:  Yeah, so that didn't amount to anything. ... So I got mixed up with some of the politicians, or tried to, and attended ... some of the local meetings. KP:  Did you know Arthur Vanderbilt? WS:  Well, I knew who he was, I never personally knew the man.  I hadn't much occasion to, as a matter of fact.  He was quite a man.  He was Dean of the New York Law School, and he was also the county counsel for Essex County.  I don't know how many jobs he had, but he was pulling it, raking in the money from all directions.  And he was a very, very smart, able man, and he had his ... own law practice besides all this.  I don't know how he was ... able to manage it all. ... I came back on the train with him one night from New York quite late, he and his wife with others had been going to the opera or something like that, I guess I had taken in a show.  He lived out on the Day Estate in Short Hills, near the Short Hills station. ... [They have] great big houses back, you know, set out by itself.  I guess it's a real estate development now.  He lived there.  I don't know whether he was related to the New York Vanderbilts or not, but he was a very, very able man. SH:  What politicians were you involved with in Newark? WS:  Oh just, the local men in particular area of the city, you know.  One of them was ... had a job, he was a foreman in the sewer department.  But he was the politician in that particular area.  So I did some work for him.  ... I even ... got my name on the ballot in one election for justice of the peace.  But in a city like ... Newark, the justice of the peace is nobody.  He has no authority to do anything, because there are other legal organizations that handle all that type of work that a justice of the peace out in the country, you know ... finds jurisdictional. SH:  Were you running as a Republican? WS:  Uh hum. SH:  Pretty tight race! WS:  I always say anyone with our name has to be a Republican. KP:  How did World War II change your law practice?  Did you continue with the HOLC or did you ... WS:  I got mixed up with title companies. KP:  That's when you made the switch to titles. WS:  Yeah. SH:  Did your practice stay then in Newark? WS:  Uh hum. SH:  Where did you live, yourself in Newark? WS:  Well, let's see.  I first lived in 487 Summer Avenue, North Newark.  In a boarding house run by a Mrs. Gibb.  And I had a very nice room.  It happened that when I came to Newark, I came on my birthday, 1924, October 13.  And I went to the law office which was on the third floor of the bank building, and it was a holiday because it was a Monday and they were celebrating Columbus' birthday on Monday.  I didn't know that, I wouldn't have come.  So I didn't know what to do, where I was gonna live.  I went to the Y, and they were all filled up.  And they said, "Here's a list of people out in the city who have rooms for rent in case you want to investigate."  So I looked at the list, and I didn't know Newark, one street or anything from another, and I got on a bus.  On the way going up towards North Newark to investigate two or three addresses, here's a fellow who came from the back of the bus up, and approached me, and it was a fella I had known in college, and who had waited tables at the place where I was employed getting people, college men, to come and eat, you know.  And he said, "Well, we've got a room up here in the place where I'm living."  So I stopped off with him, and it was a real nice room and I lived there for a while. Then I moved to another building run by a couple of older ladies, a little farther up.  There I had a room about a quarter of the size of this one.  A tower room, you know, in an old Victorian house.  That was the only opening ... they had.  Windows all around, you know?  Well, it was sort of a lark. ... I moved in there, because they only charged me two dollars a week.  And I still wasn't making very much money.  I still was in that stage where ... you have to serve a clerkship, you know, and go through all that stuff. ... Oh, and the food there was wonderful. ... Aunt Ann was the cook, she and her sister.  Aunt Ann and Ma Kenny.  And they had come down from New York, western New York state, I don't know why or how--years before, but they were making their way running this boarding house.  They had school teachers, you know, they had a mechanic, they had some boys who ran a printing press, up at the (-----? company), that made cups, paper cups. SH:  So after the war, where did you live in Newark? WS:  Well, I, when I left the boarding house, I had to live over in Staten Island to qualify in the second department, as a New York resident, you know.  But that's the only way you can get in.  So, of course, I had to give up my room up there on Carteret Place in North Newark, and having moved over to Staten Island.  And when I came back I got a room right down the center of Newark near to the HOLC offices, so it was just a few minutes walking distance to carry on with the work I had to do on the outside for them.  And I got tired of that eventually, and I found a place over here on Central Avenue near ... the high school, and I was there for eighteen years.  I had a nice little apartment there.  I was there for eighteen years right next to the firehouse, but ... that didn't interfere, in any way, my room looked out on the yard in back and some ladies used to run the flower garden in the summertime.  All the time I lived there I never went down to the backyard.  My windows looked right out on it.  Then after Betty and I were married, we needed quarters a little bit larger than that, because she had been in an apartment, and we dumped everything that she had into what I had in this apartment.  We could ... hardly get around.  It was almost impossible. ... So we found--my sister saw a picture of this house in a real estate office over at Main and Scotland Road over where a bank is now--it's been there for years, it was originally a real estate office.  And she made inquiries about it, and it turned out to be this place in West Orange where we have lived for 35 years! SH:  How did you meet Mrs. Seward? WS:  Well I stumbled over her at church.  Or something like that. BS:  We went to the same church which was near where he lived, and across the street from where I lived. WS:  Oh yes, I remember now.  We had a big snowstorm and the two of us, I guess were the only ones who showed up on a Sunday. ... They couldn't plow out the place for anybody to get in.  That was in February of 1958. BS:  I couldn't justify not going to church when I lived right there.  But we both just happened to take cameras with us and so ... we were out there taking pictures of the church and all this snow. KP:  So you have pictures from that--do you still have the pictures? BS:  Probably. WS:  And I was invited up to her apartment for a cup of coffee. BS:  I didn't know he ... [he] didn't drink coffee. WS:  I wasn't a coffee drinker.  What can you do under weather conditions like that?  Snow on the ground this high, you know. BS:  You would have gotten lost walking ... the three blocks back to your place, you could have frozen to death! SH:  So how long did it take you to propose from this February snowstorm? WS:  I don't think I ever did propose, did I Betty? BS:  Well, you must have.  (laughter)  We went down on Mother's Day weekend to tell your folks.  And then we got married the end of June.  We sort of pushed it. SH:  Did you get married in Newark? BS:  No.  At the church in Orange. WS:  Congregational church, where the big snowstorm. ... They filled the church.  The church was not, well, not too big a congregation, a small congregation and so forth.  But we filled it that day. KP:  Are you still members of that church? WS:  Never was a member of that church.  I'm still a member of the church down in Vineland.  I was admitted as a member of the church out in Toledo when we lived there, and I figured I'd never be a member of any other church.  You know, one was enough because of family, our relatives all went there and so forth.  A nice big church.  When we moved to Vineland, of course, that changed things.  My father brought our letters ... [from Toledo] to the Presbyterian Church in Vineland.  And so I've been a member there ever since 1910 or 11. ... Now I go to the First Presbyterian Church over on Main Street and ... Scotland Road in Orange. BS:  The church we were married in was a Congregational Church and it through the years got smaller and smaller.  Members retired, and members died--their families married and moved to the suburbs, and we did not succeed in drawing from the community.  So ultimately the church dissolved and sold to another church group, which ultimately sold it to still another one which now is going great guns there.  And as Walter said, he goes to the First Presbyterian in Orange, and meanwhile I was brought up Episcopalian although I have very warm feelings for the Congregational.  But we wanted one that had a good Sunday school for the children, so I ended up in a Episcopal church in Maplewood, where our daughter just clicked in immediately. ... It didn't work as well for Jonathan, but I still go there, and Walter goes with us once in a while.  He goes there for some of the functions that take place, but. WS:  If there's anything to eat, I'll be there. BS:  He's not as comfortable with the Episcopal service.  Often, I will take him to First Church and leave him, and I'll go to St. Georges and I'll come back for him.  His service begins half an hour later than mine, so it's just about getting over when I get back, so that works out. SH:  How many children do you have? BS:  Two. WS:  A boy, and a girl. SH:  And their names are? WS:  Jonathan, the older, and Marymae, named after her two grandmas. SH:  Their picture shows that they are handsome and beautiful children. BS:  Thank you.  He's up in Boston and he's working as a liaison for communities up there with the Tunnel Authority.  To try to make sure that the land that's left after they build the tunnel is used in the most appropriate ways and doesn't just become another eyesore.  And he's loving it.  Marymae, meanwhile, came back from Los Angeles where she had been working in geriatrics to become executive director of an adult day care center up in Totowa.  And that has just gotten fabulous reviews.  We're quite excited.  And she lives just around the corner from us, which is marvelous!  She and her husband, of whom we're very fond. ... KP:  Did any of your children attend Rutgers? WS:  My daughter Marymae spent her junior year of college at Rutgers.  She went to Tufts, and seeing as the rule at Tufts is for your junior year you always go somewhere else, and then come back for your senior year, you know, to graduate. BS:  ... [In] the second half of her sophomore year, she went to London, and studied there, and travelled in Europe.  Then Walter went over and joined her for a month, and at the end of that month, with one week overlapping, I went over--I was doing some supplemental teaching at that time, you couldn't leave until the school year ended, so she stayed on over through the summer, and she did England, and Wales, and Ireland, and Scotland.  Then she and I did part of the continent and England and Scotland and Ireland.  Then the following year she went down to Rutgers and got courses she would not have been able to get at Tufts, with some experiences she valued very much, and went on back to Tufts for her senior year. WS:  While she was at Rutgers, she got a job at, what was she?  Something at St. Joseph's home over on ... Woodbridge. ... BS:  I think she was program director or something. ... WS:  Yes, ... she managed things for the people to do, don't you know.  And she enjoyed that very much. BS:  Then she worked for a time in Boston at the hospital associated with Tufts, then went out to Los Angeles and studied at the University of Southern Cal, and after she had her masters, she saw a job notice for a job with the ... YMCA, I believe it was, or the YWCA, setting up a program for older adults.  She applied, she got the job, she worked there until funding didn't develop--you know, when all of a sudden funding was reduced for everybody, and hers was the last position.  So she got a job with a hospital out in Granada Hills where they had a program particularly for older adults, and they did a lot of Alzheimer's research there, and she worked there, through that hurricane ... WS:  She was right in the center ... of the hurricane. BS:  ... Earthquake. WS:  ... A building about a hundred feet away, the whole side of it came down. BS:  She did a lot of exploring (-----------?).  But after that, she and her husband decided, ... well both of them missed the change of seasons in the east, and they were ready to head back east, so they started looking into jobs, and looking into places to live, and ended up back here.  She's there, and he works out of Manhattan when he's not being shipped off to Minnesota.  They say they get a lot of frequent flier miles. [laughter]. KP:  How did it feel to have a daughter at Rutgers?  Because when you were at Rutgers, it was very much an all-male place.  How did you feel about coeducation? WS:  Well, I was sorry that they did that.  I thought it--I liked it as ... all men.  And they had started, of course, the year after I graduated, they started Douglass, and that was just for the women, because they didn't want any women on the Rutgers campus, you know.  But they had to do something to satisfy some politicians, and they were looking for state money, and one thing and another. KP:  I read in the Rutgers Alumni Magazine in 1956, you were very critical of the state takeover of Rutgers in 1956. WS:  Was I? KP:  Yeah, you had written ... I didn't copy the whole thing down, but one of the things you had written was you were opposed to the state takeover, it looks like a real giveaway, and you also argued, "No assurance money will come from politicians," and you argued that, "government in control of education means government controlled thought." WS:  Did I say all that?  (laughter) ...  Hey, I'm glad you came!  ... Let's see, what will I do here? KP:  It sounds like there was a lot of the old Rutgers you were sorry--you didn't want to see go. WS:  ... Yes, there's too much of a change.  Yes.  And I think there were a lot of other people who realized that and that's how they came to establish Douglass. ... I guess they wanted a state college for women, and that was one way to work it out with the boys down in Trenton. KP:  The Alumni Association very much wanted us to interview you partly because you have an incredible record of attendance at reunions. WS:  Well, I had to miss some, of course.  I had to miss ... the first reunion I got back to was 1919.  I couldn't get back in 1918, because I was working on the tax map.  But except for that, I've come back every year except for the time I was up in Cambridge.  Because the exams up there would come just about at reunion time down at college. KP:  So you, in a sense, have been going to reunions since the late 1920s.  Pretty regularly it sounds. WS:  Yeah. KP:  In fact, I think I was told you've been to 49 consecutive reunions. WS:  Oh have I?  Yeah, well, I've been going regularly every year, yeah.  And in our fiftieth reunion I originated the alumni reunion chapel service, and I've been conducting that ever since. SH:  Do you feel like an honorary Rutgers alumnus, Mrs. Seward? BS:  Well, somewhat.  I've seen things change, because when I  first would go down for his alumni meetings, we were not permitted to go--women were not permitted to go to the luncheons.  And we were definitely (-----------?).  But then--and they would have their class dinner and the wives would be there, and then we would have to go out while they conducted business.  And then until they caught on to the fact that the business was probably stuff the wives already knew about, we would discuss it at home, so they quit that foolishness. ... SH:  Where did you go to school? BS:  I went to Piedmont College in Northeast Georgia.  A small church related college.  Coed. [laughter]  To me, anything other than coed seemed asinine!  I'd gone to coed schools all my life, and the state school was a little larger than I was interested in anyway.  But what is now Florida State University was Florida State College for Women, and you could go to Gainesville, which was a men's college if you were taking courses that they didn't offer in Tallahassee.  But when I suggested to my brother, "Well, maybe I'd like to go there and take forestry."  He in fact said, "Over my dead body!  I know what they think about the girls who go to their school!" But Piedmont also cost less and almost all the students worked at least part of the way and it was just considered normal, so it was an ideal place.  And it was very, very small, and I had gone to a high school of 1800 and the college was 250.  So anything I tried out for I got into.  They were grateful!  The only thing I didn't get into was the Debate Club, because I didn't want anybody telling me which side to argue.  Well no, I also didn't get into the ministerial alliance.  But other than that.  And it was, it was a terrific place for me, and I was the fourth child in the family, and up there, they didn't know anyone else in my family.  When my sister came to visit me, she was my sister, instead of my being her sister.  And if you've been a younger sibling you know what this means.  And the relationship with the faculty was terrific, and you didn't have time to get homesick, because every time you saw anybody on campus you said hello, and you saw enough people you didn't have time to think about it.  In all sorts of ways it was great, but then ultimately, when I decided I wanted to do graduate work, I decided I wanted to go outside that section of the country and get a different perspective and also I wanted a school that people had heard of.  So I went to Teacher's College of Columbia and which had been heard of, and had some excellent teachers. ... Some of them weren't so good, but I really had some terrific ones.  Then I taught for four years in Massachusetts, and then I came to West Orange to teach.  And I've been here ever since.  As I said, I was living across the street from the church that Walter went to, and I remember thinking, well, I hope I like this church, because I'll probably end up going there.  And I did.  And I was not comfortable in the Episcopal churches that I tried, in that area and the Congregational Church was right for me.  All that worked out fine. SH:  What subject did you teach here in West Orange? BS:  Biology.  Since then I have been a substitute teaching for anything.  They no longer call me, thank goodness, for auto shop.  I don't think I've ever been called for boy's gym when they had them separated.  And they don't call me for phys. ed. anymore.  But I sub in the middle schools and the high schools.  There are only three schools in West Orange that I go to, it works out.  I started out in the high school, because that's where I taught.  And then I started in one of what were then junior high schools, because, I knew all the kids that went there, because I'd been active with Girl Scouts and with Boy Scouts.  And then I started going all over to these other junior highs.  Now I see kids, I probably had, or soon will have those whose grandparents I had in school.  [laughter] I have had some whose parents I had.  But it's interesting, because I get them in the sixth grade, and then I may get them again along the way, but also when they get to be seniors.  And its fun to see them as they go through. SH:  So what changes have you seen in the Alumni Association at Rutgers? BS:  Well, they're more open now.  And more interesting planning activities for families on reunion day. KP:  So when the men had their meeting and the lunch where ... -------------------------END OF TAPE TWO, SIDE ONE---------------- SH:  You were saying where you went when the men began their meetings, then you had to retire to the ... BS:  Yeah.  We all ate lunch together, or dinner, or whatever it was, but then they would be ready to call the meeting to order so the ladies would get up and walk out ... together.  It really seemed kind of stupid, but a lot of things in life do.  At one point I worked for the army and that prepared me for a lot of things that seemed stupid. KP:  When did you work for the army? BS:  After World War II, I worked in Germany for a year and a half as a civilian. KP:  What did you do for the army?  When were you in Germany? BS:  '46 to '48.  I worked in civilian personnel, and then I worked in transportation. ... It was, for me it was a marvelous opportunity, I would never have gone to ... Europe otherwise.  And they paid my way, and they paid most of my expenses while I was over there and paid me a salary in addition, so, you know.  And it was great, and I could do enough stenography to get by.  I had some interesting experiences of various sorts. KP:  What part of Germany were you in? BS:  Bad Nauheim and Bremerhaven. KP:  And what office did you work in?  What department of the Army? BS:  Continental Base Headquarters.  And then after that closed as such, and we went to Bremerhaven, I guess it was just Bremerhaven Port of Embarkation, that's when I was working for transportation.  Part of the time trying to find new jobs for men who had worked with the merchant marine through the war and were not interested in coming back to the states and working at stateside jobs.  They liked being on the water and doing that sort of thing, and there wasn't a need for them now, as there had been.  But it was ... you'd meet all sorts of people.  Some of them you'd really like, and some of them--you're glad you had met somebody like that, and hope not to again soon!  [laughter]  But it also meant that I got to London, and other parts of England, and I got to Paris, I got to Belgium, I got to Amsterdam, I got to Switzerland.  I got to Denmark. SH:  Were you shocked at what you saw compared to the news and the information that had come back to the states during the war? BS:  I don't know that I was shocked, I was distressed.  Because you'd go through these wastelands-- ... somebody had pointed out to me that they had not yet rebuilt certain areas, because they wanted to get reparations, and they figured they could present a better case if all the war damage was still there.  But I went to Bad Nauheim, one bomb had dropped on it by mistake during the war-- there was nothing to bomb.  It had been a resort town, and it was an ideal place for them to set up a headquarters, because there were lots of little hotels, and lots of little dining rooms, so they could accommodate this influx of people.  And I worked in the Grand Hotel [laughter]! ... No it was, Bad Nauheim didn't show the effects of the war much.  And actually when I first went over, you didn't do much travelling around.  There wasn't any way to do it.  You could take [the] train, and that was a (------?) as long as you stayed in Germany and sometimes when you went beyond, you weren't expected to pay a fare if you were travelling in uniform, and the headquarters I was at, civilians were required to wear uniforms for work.  And it was super to go ahead and wear it if you were travelling, because for the women, we had the slacks and the jacket and the skirts, and the whole works.  It was comfortable and convenient. ... So you went certain designated places, but we weren't supposed, really, to travel in Germany except to those designated places, because the people were having too many hardships.  They didn't have food for themselves, much less for anybody else.  So you stayed out and went to Garmisch, went to Munich, got into Frankfurt a time or two, got to Wiesbaden once.  I didn't do much travelling in Germany, but it did get me an opportunity to travel through Germany to other places, and that was wonderful for me.  My next trip was going to be to Italy, but then my father became critically ill, and my mother sent word so I came back to the states.  Had an ... emergency leave, but it ended as a termination, it just wasn't feasible for me to go back. KP:  It sounds like you had a position that in the war had been a WAC position. BS:  Probably. KP:  Yes, especially having to wear uniforms on duty. BS:  Well, the general was one of those.  He was an armchair general all through the war, and was throwing his power around after he got over there.  He was not too much respected by the men who actually served in the services--who now were coming back, as civilians and working for Judge Advocate General and positions of that sort. ... I didn't mind wearing a uniform, we didn't have to wear it after work.  So it meant I didn't have to put as much money into clothing, and I didn't have to think in the morning.  Even when you had an emergency--what did they call--air raid alert, or something like that, you just automatically put on your uniform, didn't have to think about it. KP:  You were also in Germany, if I'm correct, during the Berlin Airlift? BS:  Yeah.  That was scary. KP:  You felt that ... BS:  Well I went to Berlin twice.  Once by train and once by car.  And I can still remember how it felt.  You get to a checkpoint, you just didn't know what was gonna happen.  The time I went by car, before we got to the checkpoint, one of my friends said, "I'm gonna say you're my wife, and you're gonna be asleep in the backseat.  Because then, they're not going to ask you any questions."  So we did it that way, but we just weren't sure what they might do.  It was the lack of assurance.  And then in Bremen, they had a, well, civilians had junior officer privileges, which meant we could go to the officer's club.  And in Bremen, they had an officer's club for American, British, French, and Russian, I think it was just the four.  And the Americans, and the British, and the French were friendly to each other--they might not ever get to know each other, but they were friendly.  The Russians were so very stand-offish, you just didn't, you didn't know.  And you weren't sure, you never were sure, what might happen.  I wrote my parents back these letters and said, "Well, of course, I'm here at the border, and so if anything happens we'd be the first ones who'd be able to get on the boats."  Knowing fully well, that if anything happened, we'd be the last ones.  But then, they didn't tell me when I was working in Alabama about the German submarines that were coming up along the coast of Florida and letting saboteurs off.  There's no point in worrying people when they can't do anything about it. SH:  Now when you were travelling into Berlin through the checkpoints were you in uniform, or were you dressed as a civilian? BS:  Probably in uniform.  It was an officer's uniform, but it had a civilian insignia, so there was no question.  But at that point, I was wearing my hair in braids on the top of my head, and life was simpler if I was in uniform, because when I first went over it was strictly against regulations for army personnel to fraternize with German civilians.  And if I were in civilian clothes with my hair in braids like that, they took me for a German.  I remember being approached by somebody who spoke to me in German and I spoke back and said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand German."  And he looked furious!  After a while I realized he was trying for a pickup, and I hadn't been smart enough to know.  But at least I assumed that's what it was.  But we were stopped one time, one evening by an MP walking home from the club, and it was icy, and my date had given me his arm, and this MP drove up in a jeep and said something, and I said, "Oh, are you going to give us a ride back to our billets?"  And nobody could mistake that voice for a German.  So he said, "Well, get in." But then he said--and he asked us where we lived, and he said, "But you know, you really shouldn't have been ..."  But I was in civilian clothes, you see.  And the general was very strict about it.  He had no control over what we called American dependents--the wives, and the families of the American soldiers.  He practically required that all his officers at least, send for their wives and have them come over.  But if he couldn't have any control over them, he certainly had some control over the civilians working under him, and he was going to exercise every bit of control he had. SH:  Do you remember this general's name? BS:  Oh yes.  He has since died I understand.  An interesting experience.  He also was transferred from Bad Nauheim to Bremerhaven.  And I went to a dance at Christmas time, and I think, in all honesty, he was almost the only one I knew there, that I had known before except for my date, and I think I was one of the few people he had ever seen before, and he just beamed at me as if he was so glad to see me, whereas previously, in Bad Nauheim there had been the occasion at one of the dances we were doing the polka, and he had tripped me so that I almost fell.  And he glared at me as if to say, what are you doing in my way?  So it was interesting later for him to [look] so pleased to see me.  [laughter]  But in Bromerhaven too, he had less authority as far as uniforms are concerned, but I still wore a uniform, because it made life simpler.  And when he would come by the office and see me in uniform, it always made him feel very happy.  I didn't mind if it made him happy. KP:  Is there anything we forgot to ask you about Rutgers, or your post-Rutgers experiences? WS:  Well, you didn't ask me anything about the rushes. KP:  I did not partly because you did not join a fraternity, but did you take part in rush week? WS:  Is that what they call it now? KP:  Yeah. WS:  Well, the rushes I'm thinking of, you know, as you go, that main gate, I think it's the Class of '83, right down there, that big railroad bank, that used to be a spur of the railroad in there.  And the sophomores would be up at the top--this was, I don't know what they called it, the sophomore rush or the freshman rush, but anyway, the sophomores would be up at the top, and the freshmen would be down at the bottom.  It was the duty of a freshman to climb up this bank and throw the sophomores down. KP:  You are the first to tell us this. WS:  I wouldn't have survived anything like that, because it was really ferocious. ... That was the custom at that time.  The very first night before college opened, they'd have this big rush.  Then another time I can remember in particular, the chapel rush.  See these rushes were always between the sophomores and the freshmen.  And the chapel rush would be immediately after chapel was over, the service was over, you know.  And they would congregate right around in the front of the building, and let's see, oh, they called it the hat rush, that was it.  And a sophomore would wear a sophomore hat, and it was the job of the freshmen to try to get the hat off his head.  And, of course, the sophomores would try to keep the freshmen away.  Well, in this one particular instance as I recall, somebody, it must have been a freshman, went into the chapel and opened one of the windows and did it right there.  Because that's where the sophomore wearing the hat was standing.  And he just picked the hat off this fellow's head you know, and threw it out. BS:  Higher education! ... SH:  What was the purpose of this rush?  To establish territory for freshmen? WS:  Oh yeah, it was just another one of the things that you were supposed to do.  For instance, the freshmen couldn't walk down Seminary Place where the old library was.  You couldn't walk on the sidewalk there, you had to walk on the other side of it to get to the engineering building.  And, you'd better wipe that smile off your face too.  Fast.  And I was walking down this-- ... we had math class, first class after lunch.  The first day I was walking to the engineering building, of course, it was a sidewalk, and these other fellows were over, standing outside New Jersey Hall on the other side.  And some of them said, "Hey, get off of there, you can't walk there." ... And another group of fellows would say, "Stay there.  Go ahead."  And I had a big smile on my face, you know, I was somebody to be able to get to college, you know, and be a part of it. ... Finally one of the juniors saw my predicament, I didn't know which way to move.  He came over and ... told me what the rules were in that respect.  But that's what they call hazing. KP:  That class competition lasted into the 1940s. WS:  Quite a quite a ways, quite a while.  I guess ... it can get pretty rough. KP:  Yeah, there are some classes that still haven't forgotten it.  Some class members.  I think ... WS:  Oh really? KP:  I think ... I'm trying to think what two classes really don't get along too well. MC:  '42 and '43. KP:  Yeah '42 and MC:  '43. KP:  Yes, there's still people who remember. WS:  Oh, they had ... one big fight one time at the Crosskeys Restaurant in Rahway.  Oh, it took years to--to put that one down.  ... It was terrible. KP:  What year was that? WS:  Oh, I don't remember what year it was.  It would be around that time. ... Probably in the forties. KP:  No one's brought that one up. MC:  No, we'll have to ask about that! KP:  We'll have to do some research.  No one's brought up that restaurant. WS:  Oh, they made a wreck of the place, you know.  Oh it got to be something. KP:  It doesn't appear in the Targum either. BS:  Did the hazing take place-- ... was there any relationship to the hazing to the frats, the fraternities?  Or was this just an all class thing? WS:  ... All class.  It wasn't a fraternity affair.  Although the fraternities may have engineered it, you know, probably did. KP:  Do you still practice any law? WS:  I'm all tied up with family estate matters, so that it doesn't give me an opportunity to go out in general practice. KP:  What have you liked about your legal career, and what would you have done differently? WS:  ... Well what I would like to have done, but I wasn't qualified for it, was to get into the firm in New York that was founded by a member of our family, and it turned out it still is today a leading firm in the country.  And I went there one time, and learned that yes, they had, they still had the chair ... William Henry Seward used in the law office.  But I couldn't get them to ask me whether I'd like to sit in it. SH:  What is the name of the company? WS:  (Cravath?).  He was a later partner, around the turn of the century, and they've kept his name as the key name for the firm, it's been changed from year to year, as time does change.  Let's see, what is it now, (Cravath?), it was at one time, (Cravath), DeGeurs, Dorf, Swain, and Wood.  What is it now, I forget what it is today.  Here's a picture of the man out of law school who went to that firm.  He was magna cum laude at Harvard College and also at law school.  And he's head of the firm today, but, of course probably ... even the men of the firm don't know or care about it having been founded by William Henry Seward. SH:  What did you enjoy most about practicing law? WS:  Trying to help people out and doing the best thing to preserve their rights.  I might have been on the wrong side, but that's what a lawyer has to do if he wants to survive, he takes a case.  He doesn't have to believe in it necessarily, in what he's doing, but he's got to serve his client, and its hard for people in general to understand how a person can do that.  But a lawyer can do it, because he sees what the issues are, and there's always two sides to every question. ... So his job is to do the best he can for his client, but he doesn't have to take the case if he doesn't want it.  Of course, if he gets assigned by the court he doesn't then have any choice. ... SH:  [to Mrs. Seward]  Is there a question you think we should ask him? BS:  I haven't thought of any.  Maybe his most memorable moment was a year ago when he fell and broke his leg. KP:  Actually, someone from the alumni office said when you broke your leg during the service you were determined to finish the service.  And everyone was very impressed with that. WS:  Oh really? MC:  Yes. KP:  Yes. MC:  Yes, that's the story we hear. BS:  ... That year, he did not walk in the parade.  About halfway though the service he agreed that he'd be willing to ride in the car this year.  By the end of the service he agreed to be taken to the hospital and have it checked out.  To prove there was nothing really wrong.  But he stayed and he stood through the hymns.  Then this last year, he was there for the entire chapel service and he walked the length of the parade.  He did let Marymae carry his banner. KP:  Well, we might be able to have someone carry your banner.  My interns love the parade. MC:  I volunteer. KP:  It was one of Melanie's highlights, she carried the Class of '42 banner. MC:  Oh yeah, I loved it.  It was a lot of fun.  We went to the Old Guard dinner too. WS:  Oh did you? MC:  Yeah, we got a special preview ... of it, I guess. WS:  Oh, that's always nice. MC:  Yeah, it was very nice.  It was very nice.  It gives you a very different sense of Rutgers from what Sandra and I see day to day. BS:  I'm sure it does. MC:  Very different, you know, from the big ugly dining hall where I used to eat every day, to be transformed into, you know, a place where the president will actually go, and all these esteemed alumni will come back.  It was really nice. BS:  Well, you should have come to the all-alumni punch bowl reception.  Last year, it was grand.  Because that also is quite a different feeling.  The president's dining room ... MC:  Yeah, I'm sure, I think we'll be making appearances at everything we can, we really will. WS:  That's nice, oh, it'll be nice to see you. BS:  It fascinates me, his class has had a class dinner every year.  And he's the only one in his actual class who's there, but there are sons and daughters, and nephews, and cousins, and friends.  So we usually have about fifteen people there. MC:  That's a good turnout. KP:  No, that's better than some of the other groups. BS:  There's not room for many more people in the President's dining room.  And for a number of years now that has been given to Walter. KP: We all attend the Class of '42 meetings, so they don't make Melanie and Sandra sit out in the hallway.  [laughter] MC:  We can stay in.  I also went to a reunion planning committee meeting, so, and I'm going to that one next month in January that they, I guess it's brunch.  I'm going to that, too.  So yeah, I'm trying to get involved in it. KP:  My students have carried on some of the old Rutgers traditions, you can be sure that some of them, Melanie and Sandra and some of the others. WS:  Good, good, good. BS:  Well, it would be good if there were more ways that the current student body could try to touch onto some of what this is like now.  Last Spring, one of the Rutgers graduates that we know well went to reunion, first time I think she's been back, she was astounded at how much fun she had.  And now she plans to come back and have her family stay overnight so they can be there the night before and the next day, you know.  But I guess there's really no way that you know that until you've done it.  Of course, we have a real break, they let us stay in Stonier Hall, so that we just have to walk across to the Commons, and that's good. MC:  For most of the students, though, they've moved out of the dorms already, so it's hard to get current students.  But the incoming freshmen are there for orientation that weekend.  So they really need to do something with that, because there's the freshmen just looking at the parade going, "What is going on?"  You know, they really--no one tells them what's going on.  Because Rutgers just has so much going on at one time, that nobody can know everything.  I mean, in my senior year, I've tried to go to, you know, Kirkpatrick services Sunday mornings, to the Holiday Concert, I try to go to shows at the Cabaret, I've tried to do everything.  And if I did everything I wanted to do, I would never go to class.  I would have no time to be a real student.  So it's just there's so much going on. BS:  That is one of the problems about a really large school. MC:  Yes, yes, it really is. BS:  It can have real advantages, but there are two sides. MC:  Yes, they really need to work on that though, getting students involved with the alumni. KP:  Well, this, we actually do that.  This is probably one ... MC:  Yes, this is the best way I've seen it done.  Because the alumni association does give effort especially in the senior year, they try to have sort of get togethers.  But they don't really work very well from what I've seen.  I don't know who's not ... WS:  Well it's a little bit late. MC:  By senior year. WS:  I would say that last minute to create something like that ... it has to be done earlier. SH:  Well we look forward to seeing you there in May. WS:  Well I hope I will see you. KP:  We'll be there so we expect you to be there [laughter]. WS:  Well that's real nice. KP:  The highlight of my intern's social schedule.  [laughter]. MC:  Absolutely.  You should come to the dedication of our project.  That Friday, right before Old Guard. KP:  Right before Old Guard, the oral history project will be dedicated. WS:  The what? KP:  The oral history project, this project will be dedicated at the library by the Class of '42. WS:  Oh, the Class of '42 is financing this? KP:  This, and some other classes.  Actually Carl Heyer also has helped us out, and the Class of '43 and the Class of '40.  But it was really '42 that started it. WS:  Oh, well, are you continuing this every year? KP:  I think, well, it's really up to the alumni and the Class of '42 and the other classes.  It's definitely going to continue, it looks like it's going to continue for another year after this.  And we've interviewed about two hundred alumni.  Well, no, I shouldn't say.  We're probably at 186 ... MC:  Yeah, I just did the tally, it's about 186. SH:  Don't forget the two I did ... MC:  Oh yes, she just did two in Phoenix, Arizona.  We're very ... we cover the continent. WS:  Oh, you go around the country? KP:  When we can, yes. WS:  Oh, how wonderful, how wonderful. SH:  And we're so dedicated we take advantage of spring break, Christmas break. [laughter].  Yes.  Have tape recorder, will travel. MC:  Because they are spread out, there's alumni everywhere, who, you know, who are participating in our project.  I've done one in Cleveland and in Tucson, Sandra's done Arizona, did you do Wyoming, Montana? BS:  Let me ... if one of you locates Cliff Osborne, down in Tennessee, and does one of him, then we'd know that there were two members of Walter's class still alive.  Because we don't get any answer from him when we send him cards or notices or anything, and we just don't know.  But Cliff Osborne would be the only remaining other member.  He used to live up here and he moved down.  His daughter's down there, is that it Walter? WS:  He has a relative, I think, maybe a cousin or something like that.  But he was getting on in years, and I guess his brother either used to live right up here at Liberty Corners, up near Dover you know, his father had been the minister of the church there.  He himself, got to be the head of the psychology department out at the University of Kansas before he retired.  A very bright fellow.  But I think that over the years his interests have changed more to University of Chicago where he got his Ph.D don't you know, that meant that much more to him.  Because you go back to the campus today, and nobody knows him. BS:  They know you.  They say, he was the head of the parade. KP:  But I have had 80 students who have taken this course so far, and about--Melanie and Sandra are about, actually next semester we will have five people working on the project who have had the course and then I'll have--be teaching a course.  Students actually will be using, are using the interviews in the classroom. WS:  You mean all this stuff we've been saying today you're going to play for them ... KP:  No, first you'll see it on paper before we give it to them. WS:  Oh, it's going to be ... KP:  Transcribed. WS:  Yes?  And then given to ... KP:  First it'll be given to you.  Then it'll be given to a class of students.  So we won't just give them raw material, you will get to see what you said. WS:  You edit? KP:  We do a little bit of editing, you are actually the editor ultimately, in what you want to keep in and what you want to take out. WS:  Oh, I should have made a real story out of this.  [laughter] MC:  That's what she said, go ahead whatever you want. BS:  What is the purpose in giving this material to the students, and what do they do then? KP:  Well, for example, one of the assignments they had to read an account by a sailor who was at Pearl Harbor.  And then they had to compare his experiences with those of three alumni who had been in World War II in the navy.  And compare and contrast their experiences. WS:  Oh, that would really be something interesting. KP:  And next semester, I'm teaching two classes.  In my course  1914-45, students for their final paper they are going to read a book about women factory workers in California and then compare their experiences with five people who went through Rutgers and Douglass during the 1930s and 1940s. BS:  The Rutgers-Douglass people of that same period? KP:  Same period, yes, the World War II period.  So there are various ways, and Melanie is in fact doing another project.  She's- -in another part of Rutgers history, she's studying coeducation, the coming of women to Rutgers. MC:  Yes, that's my senior thesis, is on coeducation.  There's a real small oral history project that was done, there's about 35 oral histories of the women who were in that first class to spend four years at Rutgers.  So, we're also, in '97-98 through the Office of Student Life, we're having a celebration of 25 years of women at Rutgers.  So, I'm doing that, I've been doing that since the summer.  So I'm sort of doing, everything with alumni.  I really enjoy alumni weekend, I know people in that class, I know people in the 40s classes.  It really is, it really is.  And I have such a different impression of Rutgers College than my roommates do.  We all enjoy our school, we do not have any complaints, but ... BS:  You have an entirely different perspective. MC:  Yes, I feel like my experience has just been so much fuller, you know. BS:  Very personal. MC:  And very personal, really personal.  I mean, you know, to interview someone who graduated eighty years before me ... [laughter] KP:  Plus Carl Heyer's given us a tour of ... MC:  Oh, Carl Heyer ... KP:  Has given Melanie and another intern as well as my wife and I, a tour of Mount Holly.  Have you ever taken a Carl Heyer tour of Mount Holly? WS:  No, I've been of course through Mount Holly any number of times, but not, well, I guess for several years I haven't ... KP:  You should visit Carl, have him take you through Mount Holly.  There's a whole day that he makes of it.  He really gives you a real tour of the town, which, we're going to send Sandra and her husband there, because he tells you how Mount Holly won the American Revolution. MC:  He hikes you up the mountain.  He hikes you up the actual Mount Holly. KP:  The tallest point in South Jersey. MC:  Yes, he's great. WS:  Is there a mountain in Mount Holly? MC:  A little hill [laughter]. WS:  Is there really, I haven't really become acquainted with it. KP:  Oh no, you should really call Carl up and go.  You would really enjoy it. MC:  He wants everybody to come down.  He says, "Bring your parents, bring your grandparents."  He's a great tour guide, he really is. WS:  Yes, I remember him quite well. SH:  Well when we return the transcript to you for correction, if you would be lenient in your corrections.  Because so much of what you said we'd really like to have it stay within the transcript, but also add to it if there's memories that come back but we've forgotten to ask the question that jarred that memory, please feel free to add to it.   WS:  I don't see that there's anything particular of value that we've covered today, is there? KP:  Oh yes. MC:  Yes, absolutely.  For people who--I study a lot of Rutgers history, and everything you've said has helped me.  It's a big supplement to reading Demarest's book and McCormick's book, Rutgers history books.  You know, it's a real benefit to get a personal history of Rutgers.  A lot of the men that we interview for the World War II experiences don't realize that I don't have a very personal interest in World War II, so when I interview them, my interests lie in what they did when they were at Rutgers.  You know, as a Rutgers student, I can relate to that much better than their military experiences.  So, your interview is, you know, perfect.  It's such a different side of Rutgers that we've never seen, you know, and we can't get from anybody but you, so, absolute value.  Definite value.  And it's almost a shame, a lot of the guys will edit a lot, too much, almost, just because they think it has no relevance.  But it really does.  Just because it's the Oral History Archives of World War II, it doesn't mean that it has to be all World War II.  You know, people will use it for different things, especially when we do a finding aid, and give little biographies of each gentleman that was interviewed--say one worked in some profession, and some scholar is coming in and wants to know about people who worked in the cork business in the 1950s, as one gentleman that I interviewed.  Well, his interview's perfect, and just because we interviewed him for his war experience, you know, he's helping someone else along without even knowing it. SH:  Well, I think too, the war experience includes the homefront, and what people were going through, or without, or how they contributed. WS:  Oh, yes, yes.  Betty and I went to the Glen Ridge High School where they've got some program going on, and they wanted us to tell what things were like at a certain time, you know, and so forth.  And--I was telling them about going to Glen Ridge High School. BS:  Oh, good, because I was thinking about that.  I was going to tell you that was Jonathan and he's back in Boston. WS:  Oh, that's nice.  He left this morning about eleven o'clock. BS:  But that Glen Ridge High School thing I think was great.  You know, I grew up, and there were all these people around that could have told me so many things, only they didn't.  Because nobody tapped into it.  And I knew there were families in which family history is recounted, sometimes interminably, but there were others in which it isn't.  And there are people outside your immediate family that have so much they can tell you.  I think of a neighbor of ours, in fact I think of neighbors in both directions, but I wouldn't ask them.  You know. KP:  Well, we're going to be interviewing Melanie's grandparents. MC:  My grandparents.  They're having their fiftieth wedding anniversary in June, and you know, as a poor college student I couldn't think of anything to buy for their anniversary, and one day as I was editing or reviewing transcripts, I said to myself, it's really--I enjoy reading transcripts, learning, you know, people's family histories, but it's a shame that I don't know this much about my grandparents.  Because we don't have the kind of family where, you know, my grandfather will just sit down and tell me a story.  You know, and like you said, you don't think to ask them.  Especially me, who thinks she knows so much about the homefront and World War II, I'm not going to ask him.  But it's a shame.  So Kurt is going to interview my grandfather, Sandra will interview my grandmother, and I'll transcribe the tapes and give it to them for their anniversary. BS:  Oh, nice! MC:  Yeah ... BS:  They'll be delighted. MC:  Oh, they're already delighted.  Exactly. WS:  Oh, that's very nice. MC:  And I'll have them ready for their anniversary and instead of the typical photo collage that everyone does, that my mother will do also, you know, it won't go unnoticed, I'll have their life stories there too, so everyone can look through them.  So, yes, I've taken it definitely into my personal life. BS:  I was real pleased with this Glen Ridge thing.  I mentioned it at West Orange High School ... maybe we ought to be doing something like that here! SH:  And that's why, you know, in the essence of time, that when you have more time, that you can think about it, and when you get the transcript back, if you will add to it, we will be thrilled to have it, so please do.  You and Mrs. Seward together. WS:  Wait a minute, do I, you want me to revise. ... KP:  You do not have to revise, you can just leave the transcript.  It is up to you, what you do with the transcript in terms of revision. WS:  Oh. BS:  But if, when you get it, you recall things that you didn't think to mention this afternoon, what they're saying is, you are to feel free to add them to the transcript. KP:  In addition would be more than welcome to return--you can always invite us to come back up. MC:  We'll reinterview you. KP:  We can always ask you more questions that we didn't cover in the first interview. WS:  Oh, oh, I see. SH:  That's true, if you find there's a lot more that you would like to share, you and Mrs. Seward call us up and we ... KP:  We will come back up. WS:  I don't know whether I'll be able to add anything or not.  I have what, I don't know what you'd call it, a picture mind.  I have in my mind, pictures of all of these years of events.  I think some of them don't amount to anything, you know. ... SH:  I don't believe that. [laughter] WS:  But I can see that rush on the railroad bank there, you know.  I can see Selman Waksman walking across the campus.  I can see somebody else going to the funeral service for Upson, who was the Registrar.  And in later years, one reunion, Demmie was there on the campus, he was an old man then, and he took my arm.  Somebody took a picture of that, but I never got it.  I think it was a man, Class of '24.  I wish I had a picture of that.  But he was so different at that time from what he was, boy.  When I was a freshman I went to see him. ... I remember things by pictures. KP:  Maybe we should interview you during reunion weekend again because you will be on campus and things might come to mind. SH:  Sounds like he's too busy. BS:  He'll be busy, believe me.  He spends most of Saturday, after the luncheon, getting setting up for the reception and then the dinner. WS:  We go down Friday afternoon, stay overnight and go to the Old Guard dinner.  You know that the Old Guard dinner started, I think it started as an outdoor reception. ... The dinner was held outdoors in back of the president's house.  His rose garden back there.  And there'd be about oh, 50 people or so there, you know.  But in no time at all, they got to be so many. ... -----------------------END OF TAPE TWO, SIDE TWO------------------ WS:  ... They debated and beat Princeton. KP:  Do you remember what were the topics for debate that occurred in Kirkpatrick Chapel? WS:  I don't, at the moment, no. BS:  Were they participating-- ... the people who were taking either public speaking or oratory, or something or were they part of a debate club or something.  Or were they just people who felt strongly on their positions and wanted to present them? WS:  Well, ... I think they were selected from applicants who ... [were] simply qualified to handle a problem. BS:  Were they teaching courses on debating? WS:  Well, no, there were ... no courses on debate.  They had what they called ... BS:  Elocution? WS:  Well, that's what it was, public speaking.  But, they had a real nice professor for that, that was his one big job, public speaking. ... We were all pretty green at it, you know.  I mean, he didn't make any public speakers out of us.  There were a few fellas who had the ability, there was one fella, went to college in my class from South Jersey, he ... graduated from the high school, and he was taking the Ag course, he was one of the best orators they had.  He really did a wonderful job. (Howard Eisenburg, '17). BS:  ... good speakers in your favor. KP:  Did you ever have any outside speakers at chapel or any other occasions--any governors, judges, or other prominent leaders.  Because one of the things that chapel had in the 1930s and 1940s was a lot of prominent speakers coming in. WS:  Well, I think I'd have to say yes to that, but I can't remember really who they were, or what they were talking about.  I know one time before the chapel was remodeled, the interior, in that upper room that had been the old library, they had somebody there who was a labor advocate give a talk.  Well, we didn't know what he was going to talk about, it wasn't--but he would be, what would you call him today, a promoter, or something like that.  Trying to influence people's minds along a certain line of thought regarding labor problems. SH:  One of our people that we have interviewed said that what he got the most out of chapel was the appreciation for the beautiful music.  Did you? WS:  Well, I remember particularly when the organ, after the chapel was refurbished inside, they had a concert for a dedication of the new organ, and I never forgot one of the numbers which I'd never heard before, but it just struck me, as being so beautiful.  It was (Kamenoi-Ostrow?) I don't think anyone knows the music by that name and you don't hear it very often.  But they had the organ, and I think the violin, and they may have had some other instruments there at that time.  The music was always an attraction, even just the end.  And then, they tell the story, I don't know how true this was, because you sat in chapel according to what course you were taking, and the men taking the classical course were up front.  And I guess the Ag men would always be the last ones ... in the crowd.  Well, the fellas who would sit in the back, I heard this from one of the fellas who was in the scientific field there, one of the students told me afterwards when we were studying for the bar, that ... every morning they would, what do you call it, have a kitty where everybody would put in a penny ... to decide what the number of the hymn was going to be, and the one who selected the number nearest to the actual number would get the kitty.  I've never seen it, ... in the classical, we were up in the first half dozen rows of benches, don't you know, we didn't pull anything like that, it would be too evident what was going on. BS:  Were your chapel services always real real chapel services? WS:  Oh yes. BS:  Because what they called chapel at Piedmont, more often than not, was not.  And this is one of the reasons ... WS:  It was a regular religious service on a college level, you know.  Anything going on, important announcements like that would be made at the service.  Oh yes, it was a regular religious service. SH:  Was it led by the professors or by ministers? WS:  Usually by Demmie, the president.  But if he were away ... one of the professors would take over. BS:  It was never led by a student? WS:  No.  They allowed the students to address the assembly there on important college issues or anything like that, but the students didn't conduct the service. SH:  Do you have any World War II memories that you would like to share? WS:  Well I wasn't in it, you know, in the first place, so that I can't approach it from that angle. I can say this, when they ... declared war, I ... immediately went to ... I went to, I guess I went to the post office first thing to buy a war bond.  A war bond, they didn't have any war bonds, they'd never heard of it.  So ... I went to ... a bank, I wanted to buy a war bond. ... They'd never heard of it.  It took some time for all of that to get worked out, don't you know.  But, that's about the only thing that comes to mind at the moment, when you say in connection with the '42. BS:  You weren't much affected by rations? WS:  Oh yes, sure.  Oh yes.  Yes, we had those little slips.  Yes I remember, I wanted to get in on it some way, right off, but I knew I would never be accepted in active service.  Never did get a war bond. SH:  Well, thank you for your time. WS:  ... I'm honored that you should want to sit and listen to all this trivia. MC:  Of course, definitely. KP:  We're glad to come, and we appreciate your time. WS:  Well, that's quite all right.  I'm glad to give it.  If it does you any good, or helps out in any way, I figure today if there's anything I can do for the college I'm only too glad to do it, because when I was there I didn't have the chance and ability. KP:  This concludes an interview with Walter Seward on December 30, 1996 at his home in West Orange, New Jersey with Kurt Piehler, MC:  Melanie Cooper SH:  Sandra Stewart Holyoak BS:  ... Oh and Betty Seward!   -------------------------END OF INTERVIEW--------------------------   Reviewed:  5/13/97  by  G. Kurt Piehler Edited:    5/14/97  by Tara Kraenzlin Reviewed:  8/16/97  by Walter Seward Entered:   8/27/97  by Melanie Cooper Reviewed:  8/27/97  by G. Kurt Piehler

Sive, David (Part 3)

Shaun Illingworth:  This begins our third interview with Mr. David Sive on December 18, 2007, in West Orange, New Jersey, with Shaun Illingworth and ... Christopher Shields:  ... Christopher Shields. SI:  Okay, Mr. Sive, thank you very much for having us here again today.  DS:  Thank you. SI:  Before we started the tape, we were talking a little bit about the role of publicity in trials.  Do you want to start off with that? DS:  Yes.  Well, if I sound like [I am] teaching a law school course, why, you tell me if that's good or bad. [laughter] ... SI:  That is fine, yes. DS:  Yes.  Most important environmental cases are, in essence, a judicial review of administrative action, and the judicial review of administrative action can be a review of, in environmental law, a federal agency's action or state agency's action.  ... The development of environmental law, beginning, really, with the Storm King Mountain Case, involved the review of actions of federal agencies, and sometimes together with state agencies.  [Editor's Note: InScenic Hudson Preservation Conference v. Federal Power Commission (1965), a landmark case in the history of environmental law, and subsequent legal actions, Mr. Sive represented a number of organizations in opposing the construction of a pump storage power plant on Storm King Mountain near Cornwall, New York.]  The agency action can be what is called informal agency action or formal agency action.  Formal agency action is where the agency proceeds by a hearing which is really very much like a trial, except the evidentiary rules are a bit looser before agencies than before courts.  The Storm King Mountain Case was a review of action of the Federal Power Commission, which was a formal agency action.  ... Well, as an example, the case which is important in my own participation in the development of environmental law, what I call The Citizens' Committee Case or the Hudson River Expressway Case [Citizens Committee for the Hudson Valley v. Volpe], was a review of informal agency action, where there isn't a formal trial and where the evidence is a collection of documents and perhaps the minutes of informal hearings [regarding] the way in which the Army Corps of Engineers acts.  ... The Army Corps of Engineers was the defendant in a large number of suits brought to enjoin dams or bridges or other works which gave rise to environmentalists' objections.  In the review of agency action, the principal rule is a rule which developed as administrative law developed, and that rule is, defined in each case, the scope of the review, how deeply the review can go.  ... In most cases of review of administrative action, the findings of fact by the administrative agency are reviewable only if ... the findings are arbitrary or without any evidentiary base.  The review by the court is similar to the review by a judge, in a civil or criminal suit, of the holding of the verdict of a jury, so that, when the agency action is reviewed, a very important question in virtually all of the cases is whether the review involves findings of fact or conclusions of law.  ... That distinction is built into the general act which governs administrative agencies, the Administrative Procedure Act, so that, in the review, it's very important for the party seeking the review, the environmental interest, to deem findings of law rather than of factual matters, the same issue which arises when the judge has to determine whether to grant the motion to overrule a jury verdict or what he must follow in his instructions to a jury.  ... A lot of the ... early environmental cases, indeed, I suppose, most of them, involving judicial review of administrative action are cases in which the environmentalists find it very important to expand the scope of review and the defendants, the agencies, to narrow the scope of review.  ... The scope of review is expanded by deeming conclusions those of law instead of fact, whereas the defendants say, "This is factual and your review of it is limited to a finding of fact which is arbitrary, without evidentiary base."  ... In the course of my own work, the presentation of the environmentalists' points involved an effort to expand judicial review of administrative action and expand the scope of conclusions of law.  That has a very interesting history, which is illustrated by events today.  Going back to the New Deal, administrative law really began or went through a great explosion of its scope with the establishment, by the New Deal, of new agencies or the expansion of the scope of agency's powers.  The SEC [Securities and Exchange Commission] was established by a New Deal law. The Federal Communications Commission, I think, was established then, and the powers of the administrative agencies were deemed to be or said to be expanded.  The expansion of the power of the agencies and the narrowing of the scope of review was the argument of liberals, and the expansion of the powers of the courts was deemed broadened by conservatives, largely Republicans, to hold back the actions of the agencies.  Now, that's illustrated by a very interesting sequence of events, which I haven't seen anybody else point out, but I just happened to remember that one of the most important cases in that New Deal period was a case [Berman v. Parker (1954)] that involved the power of a slum clearance agency to use the power of imminent domain to condemn properties to follow through with a redevelopment plan.  ... The Supreme Court upheld the power, the eminent domain power of the agency, a slum clearance agency, in Connecticut.  The decision was by William Douglas, [a liberal Supreme Court justice].  Now, you come down to two years ago, the controversy over the power and use of the eminent domain power in New London, Connecticut, and you have the agency, a redevelopment agency, seeking to condemn the house of a middle-class, a lower middle-class, woman who was fighting the "Goliath" of the development agency.  [Editor's Note: Kelo v. City of New London (2005).]  ... The liberals supported the woman against the power of the evil agency.  The exercise of power was upheld by the Supreme Court.  I think it refers to this case of William Douglas; I don't recall.  Now, that shifting of the views of different interests with respect to classical controversies, the powers of an agency, the scope of review, the eminent domain power, is, I think.  It's one of the things which sustain the basis of our government.  In other words, if there's a shifting of views with regard to important governmental powers between conservatives and liberals, and, in one era, the conservatives are taking one position and, in another era, the other position, that sustains, I think, the duration, the stability, of the government.  ... Just one other illustration of that, these days, conservatives and Republicans, we see it in every TV program about the present campaign [the 2008 Presidential Campaign], are talking about keeping back the wicked government, the government agencies.  You just listen to [Arkansas Governor and Republican Presidential Candidate Michael] Huckabee and it's classical, but what is their view about the use of the power of the government to forbid abortions, which is an act of privacy?  ... The privacy action was invented about twenty years ago, again, a decision involving the State of Connecticut, so that this shifting, I think, and this hypocrisy, you can say, is inconsistency, and that goes for liberals as well as conservatives.  The liberals, now, I don't see anyone remembering the expansion or the protection of the upholding of the power of eminent domain by, of all people, the great liberal demigod William Douglas.  The importance of expanding the scope of administrative review ... in judicial cases was the principal issue in a large number of the cases, and the principal issue which I faced, to really wrestle with the upholding of the powers of administrative agencies in the days of the New Deal.  ... Thus, I began to study administrative law and to become knowledgeable about it, to the point where, in later years, along with a course in environmental law, I would occasionally teach a course in classical administrative law. One very interesting aspect of that was my being appointed a member of the Administrative Conference of the United States, which is a body ... whose function was to review and improve and reform administrative law, the law dictating the powers of the agencies, which are set forth in the organic act creating the agency, the Army Engineers, the Transportation Department, the FCC [Federal Election Commission], and, also, in the Administrative Procedure Act, and the working of the two together is a fine point, which I don't want to go into here.  ... It was really a funny incident.  Sometime in the late '70s, a gentleman came into my office and asked to see me.  He was then the head of the Administrative Conference of the US, an office which was occupied by Justice [Antonin] Scalia before he was appointed to the Supreme Court.  That illustrates the importance of it, and that Conference was approximately 120 people, a third practicing lawyers, a third ... administrative law scholars, mainly from the law schools, and a third officials, the highest official, or the next highest, of the government agencies.  The gentleman was the Head of the Administrative Conference.  I don't recall his name; you'll forgive it, but the basic illness of mine, Parkinson's, affects the memory.  ... I can check all these dates or other names which I forget. SI:  We can always adjust that in the transcript. DS:  Right.  We exchanged some pleasantries, and then, he said, "Well, I'm here to ask you if you'd be willing to join the Administrative Conference."  I didn't know what it was, literally.  So, I asked him to excuse me, "I'm just going to the lavatory," went out through the office into the library, not the lavatory, pulled down the US Government Manual, understood the Administrative Conference and its importance.  ... I went back to him and said, "I think I can make myself available." [laughter]  Within thirty days, I was at a conference of the Administrative Conference, sitting alongside what I'd call the "demigods of administrative law."  One was a Professor [Louis J.] Jaffe from Harvard, who wrote the basic text on judicial review of administrative action.  Another was Walter Gellhorn, whom you may have heard of, Professor at Columbia Law School and the brother of the more famous Martha Gellhorn, the World War II reporter, and others, oh, Kenneth Culp Davis, the author of the classical six-volume treatise on administrative law.  I was seated with them.  ... Oddly enough, I had never taken a course in administrative law in law school, because, to me, administrative law was the practice before federal agencies, or liquor license cases in New York, where the grant of the permit is reviewable by administrative action.  I stayed with the Conference for about six or eight years.  I think those appointment's were for a two-year period and it was renewed two or three times.  In between that and the study of administrative law, in connection with litigations which I brought and as a general student of environmental law, I became quite expert in the refinements of the problem, the scope of ... judicial review.  In that connection, I wrote a Columbia Law Review article, which I think I entitled "Thoughts of an Environmental Lawyer in the Wilderness of Administrative Law," [published in 1970], just as a title for somebody who was learning administrative law in connection with the development of environmental law. Environmental law did not secure its name, I think, until 1969 or '70?  ... In 1970, the law exploded.  This, I think, is discussed, it must be, a fair amount in the Sierra Club interview.  [Editor's Note: In 1982, Ann Lage interviewed Mr. Sive as part of a series of oral histories with Sierra Club leaders for the Regional Oral History Office at the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.]  ... Just to review it here and place it in its context, 1970 was the great year of the expansion, the growth, of the environmental movement and the beginnings of the explosion of environmental law.  ... It caught on, the environment movement caught on, in good part because of Earth Day.  The first Earth Day was April 1st, I think, [April 22nd], in April of 1970.  1970, January 1st was the effective date of the National Environmental Policy Act.  1970 was the date of an action involving the New York State Forest Preserve, Article XIV, and 1970 was the year, near the end of '70, when the Clean Air Act was amended.  I think that was adopted, became law, in November or December. The Clean Air Act had in it what is called a citizen's suit provision, the citizen's suit provision was the adoption in federal law of a citizen's suit statute first enacted in Michigan.  ... That was in large part the work of, I think, the most famous and important professor of ... environmental law, Joseph Sax of Michigan Law School.  He wrote and carried on in the Michigan Legislature, the State of Michigan, to enact a citizen's suit which granted standing to environmental interests in the courts of Michigan.  That citizen's suit provision was copied, in large part, in the Clean Air Act. The issue of standing has continued all through the whole period to the present date, and in a number of Supreme Court cases.  Justice Scalia, and [Justice Clarence] Thomas following him, have stated that granting the standing to environmental interests without the traditional harm to person or property is unconstitutional, but the standing has been upheld.  The citizen's suit provision, in a number of the environmental statutes, following the basic Clean Air Act.  Now, that sets in its context the development of environmental law, and the environmental law really is important with respect to, well, its basis, in large part, the activism of environmental organizations. The mixture of the two processes, the legislative process, defining the policies in the law, and the judicial process is important and, to me, has always been fascinating.  In fact, in my own work, the place of myself in the work as a member and leader of a number of environmental organizations, the political work and the judicial work, the legal work, the litigation, the mix here is utterly fascinating.  ... To illustrate that, I think I may have mentioned in the Sierra Club interview what I refer to as the earliest environmental case of mine, a case which  arose before environmental law was used.  Looking backward, it involved the review, at the behest of a group of organizations engaged in the protection of the New York city parks.  The case involved the proposed grant of a grant by a [George] Huntington Hartford, [II], to build a café in the southeast corner of Central Park. In that case, the environmental interest lost, all the way up to the Court of Appeals.  In the case I interposed a brief, an amicus brief, for the Sierra Club.  Very shortly after the decision [John] Lindsay became Mayor and Tom Hoving, Park Commissioner, and he nixed the project.  Another classical illustration is the dispute over the Alaskan Pipeline, you probably remember that, in which a suit was brought by, I think the National Wildlife Federation, in which I didn't participate directly, but I did participate in the political controversy involving it. The environmental interests won in the federal courts, on the ground, the very narrow technical ground, that the statute authorizing the pipeline limited the width of the pipeline, I think, to fifty feet and the work of digging and constructing the pipeline went beyond the fifty feet.  The environmentalists won, but, as I recall, it was at the beginning, or just before, the first great controversy over the supply of oil and the price of gasoline.  Congress amended the Pipeline Act to authorize the pipeline and the anti-environmental interests, [if] you can call them that, won.  [Editor's Note: In November 1973, President Richard Nixon signed the Trans-Alaska Pipeline Authorization Act into law.]  ... Did you have a [question]? SI:  This is something we started to talk about in the last interview, but I want to re-ask it.  You mentioned how publicity and the political interests played into these cases.  Were you active in cultivating that publicity and those political contacts? DS:  Yes, right.  The work of mine with the environmental organizations, [such as] the Sierra Club, the Natural Resources Defense Council, the Environmental Law Institute, the Environmental Planning Lobby and others was political.  The question of the extent to which one may participate in the political side of a controversy, at the same time as, or shortly before, or even after, the court action really involves aspects of professional ethics.  To what extent may a lawyer who's the litigating lawyer participate in the political side?  ... The best illustration of that is in the Hudson River Expressway Case.  I called as a witness, among others, a Stewart Ogilvy, who was an officer, one of the leaders, of the Atlantic Chapter of the Sierra Club.  ... The propriety of his testifying while he was an officer of the Sierra Club and carrying on the political controversy was in dispute.  Well, fortunately for the environmentalists, it was upheld.  There must be cases, I'm certain, in which the environmentalists has argued for ... the question of the ability of a person involved in the political controversy to be a witness in the legal side of it.  ... You'll find, I'm certain, if you examine it, the same contradictions, which, to me, is a ground for the stability of the system, that the different interests take different views about classical legal questions depending [on] whether it's good for the good guys.  That is, I think, the best illustration of the fact that an environmental lawyer pursuing environmental cases has had to become adept in the rules of professional ethics.  Could I head the Sierra Club Chapter and carry on opposition to the Expressway at the same time that I was litigating the case?  Well, fortunately for me and the environmentalists, ... I think it was not seriously argued by the attorneys for the [New York] State Transportation Department and the Army Corps of Engineers, who were defendants in the Expressway Suit.  Another illustration is the controversy involving the proposed construction of a dye plant on the shore of South Carolina, opposite Hilton Head Island.  [Editor's Note: Beginning in 1969, Hilton Head residents, organized as the Hilton Head Island Community Association, began their opposition to a proposed BASF chemical plant on Victoria Bluff.]  The interests protecting [the environment], well, opposing the dye plant, which allegedly would pollute the waters, of a very narrow strait between the island and the coast, the interests involved a number of really very different parties: a union of blacks who were seamen and had an interesting history and spoke English with a particular accent; retired admirals and officers of the Marines, because of their interest in the matter.  Hilton Head Island is close to the Marine base at Parris Island, and the developers of the communities, resort communities. Their principal lawyer, was a firm with a Joab Dowling.  He was a person who was one of the ten or twelve people, it seemed to me, who govern South Carolina.  ... I think it's always been close to a feudal state and I think still has that character now.  Well, he was [with] a law firm, one of the largest in South Carolina, small by New York standards, who engaged me ... to help them in the environmental suit, which I brought.  ... I brought, which I think was the first environmental suit under the National Environmental Policy Act, NEPA, which established the requirement of an environmental impact study and environmental impact statement, an EIS, which has become the most frequent base in all environmental litigation, of literally thousands of cases, since its enactment, its effective date being January 1st, 1970.  ... The author of it, its main proponent, was [Washington State US Senator] Henry Jackson.  He was not a very leftist liberal, but there's a very important environmental history in the State of Washington, and a couple other states, including Wisconsin. The EIS became a part of the review of administrative action in dozens of cases and, including a number of cases in which I participated and used it as the basis of the suit.  Well, I brought an action to enjoin the issuance by the state authorities, a state pier authority, a water authority, of the license for the pier which would receive products to go into the manufacture and which would send off the boats with the finished product.  ... That suit was brought around the third week of January, 1970 and was, I think, the first suit under NEPA.  The suit went on for about six or seven months, with some, I thought, helpful testimony by officials of the Port Authority of South Carolina in depositions, and some important disclosures and documents discovered as part of the discovery process.  The case was settled before a trial could be held.  The Secretary of the Interior came out in opposition to the dye plant at the behest of the development's opponents and Senator Strom Thurmond who dominated South Carolina politics, and one of whose principal claims to fame was marrying a Miss America, forty years younger. Yes, right, and part of the work in which I engaged was, to me, a fascinating visit to the Interior Secretary in his office, by Joab Dowling and myself, and the presentation of the views and opinions of the admirals and the developers of the island and, of course, also, the members, the black members, of the fishermen's union.  The Secretary of the Interior, shortly after the meeting, stated that he opposed the grant of the permit.  That finished the controversy.  I really do not know, and never will know, to what extent the decision was based upon some of the disclosures which I secured in the discovery proceedings in the case, but.  Needless to say, I didn't fight Joab Dowling and his partners over many years in stating what a great lawyer I was, [laughter] because I won the case, but I'll never know how much was [due to the legal aspects].  I think, [it was due to] less [the] importance of the disclosures than the views of a part of the important leaders of South Carolina.  This conflict of views is very important as the basis of the development of environmental law and the environmental movement.  The movement joins people of wealth and, really, the highest and most aristocratic of social classes and the middle-class people, and even protectors of people in poverty areas and non-white interests, the joining of the two where the environmental controversy was, as many of the controversies involved the protection of a specific area of land.  ... That land is often the wildest and the most beautiful of lands.  The best illustration of that is the Adirondack area of New York State, in which I've been involved in the protection of Article XIV, the Forest Preserve, with which you're familiar.  Beginning with the early '60s, a good deal of my involvement has been in the protection of the New York State Forest Preserve, both in the Adirondacks and the Catskills.  That is in part somewhat selfish because, in '57, I and my wife bought a house in the western part of the Catskills, in a very beautiful, mountainous area.  It has 160 acres surrounded on three sides by Forest Preserve land, and, on the fourth side, by a fisherman's club, whose members include prominent people.  The club owned five thousand acres in this, I think, most beautiful of all areas of the Catskills. Through the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s,  I became a member and leader of all of the Adirondack protective organizations and brought or was involved in lawsuits and controversies with them to the date of my retirement in 2005. One of the most important groups was the so-called Association for the Protection of the Adirondacks, which originally consisted of aristocrats, the owners of vast areas of land in what has always been called the "Great Camps," and these "camps," quote, were wooden buildings, sometimes several buildings, in the center of five, ten, twenty thousand acres, owned by the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers and J.P. Morgan.  ... The classical union of these owners was established in 1906, before the word environment meant anything other than that part of your upbringing [that] was not ... hereditary.  It's a classical dispute among psychologists and physicians, "Which is more important, heredity or an environment?"  ... You'll find again, the interest groups take opposite sides in that classical study by doctors and psychologists.  The Association was the principal protector of the Forest Preserve provision of the constitution. SI:  If you are putting it in as an overview, that is good. DS:  Yes, right.  In 1924, I think it was, [1922], the Adirondack Mountain Club was organized, and I later represented the Club and the Association, [the] so-called APA, in several different suits and in the political aspects of the protection of the Forest Preserve.  One of the signers of the corporate charter of the Adirondack Mountain Club was Franklin Delano Roosevelt, living in Hyde Park, and with the interests of people like [Secretary of the Treasury Henry] Morgenthau, [Jr.], who was a neighbor [of the Roosevelts in] Duchess County, New York State. Well, I continued, joined in, I think, the mid-'60s, the Association, the APA, for the Protection of the Adirondacks and became, I think, the first or second member of their governing board without the aristocratic background.  ... The background included the Rockefellers and other owners of the Great Camps, including the members and leaders of the so-called "Adirondack League Club," which is the owner of, I think, close to fifty thousand acres in the western part of the Adirondacks and on which I think there are located twenty-two private lakes.  If you look at maps of New York State, you see a great emptiness along the east side of the road going from Utica to Old Forge.  That's the area of the Adirondack League Club. The conflict of different interests is illustrated by a controversy involving the use by members of the Sierra Club, who organized, deliberately, to really litigate the legal side of it, a trip by five or six members along the Moose River, which rises in the center of this great wilderness area, in the center of which is West Canada Lake.  That's the best known feature, which lies twelve or fifteen miles from the nearest road, by foot trail.  The Moose River flows west into the Black River, which is really considered the end of the Adirondack Plateau, which flows north into the St. Lawrence River. The Sierra Club members canoed along the Moose River and were halted by the League Club.  There was a litigation which determined that the use of navigable waters is protected against the exclusion by the owners of the land in both sides of the river.  ... The court determination was that the canoeing in the Moose River could not be barred from canoes ... to the extent that the river was "navigable."  What waters are "navigable" is a classic controversy involving the authority of the Army Corps of Engineers.  The question became, "Is the Moose River navigable, and in what portions is it navigable or not navigable?"  I don't think that was [resolved]; that was never determined in a resumption of the case.  The matter was settled between the Sierra Club and the League Club by permitting canoes to go through along the Moose River, but forbidding them to land on the sides of it and camp on the land.  That was the private land.  This is, to me, has been a fascinating aspect becoming involved in a number of controversies where the question is, "Are waters navigable?"  If they're navigable, the Army Corps of Engineers has the power to govern them and erect works in them.  That determines the environmental controversy.  In the Moose River Controversy, the case was remanded to determine the extent to which the Moose River was navigable, the parent body of the Sierra Club, which really supported the action by the Atlantic Chapter, which I had headed back in the '60s, asked me to represent them in arguing against the navigability of the [Moose] River, I decided not to do so, because I thought that taking the side which I probably had more sympathy with than the League Club ... would hamper me and reduce my influence which I had with the classical aristocratic protectors of the Adirondacks, who became involved, [in] later years, in the protection of the Forest Preserve in the Catskills, lessen my influence with them.  I told them I wouldn't represent them. The series of controversies through the years involving the Forest Preserve is another illustration of participation in the political side of the work and the judicial side, and the judicial side.  The powers of the vis-à-vis executive agencies, including the President, involved a question of "executive privilege." It was also interesting and fascinating being involved in questions of executive privilege, and the case where that was developed most was what I call the "Amchitka Case," which I think is discussed, to some extent, in the Sierra Club interview.  [Editor's Note: Mr. Sive represented litigants in Committee for Nuclear Responsibility v. Seaborg, an environmental suit to protect Amchitka Island from nuclear weapons tests.]  Well, that case became, in the Court of Appeals, the Circuit for the District of Columbia, one of the three or four determinations of the extent of executive privilege where the controversy is between the courts and the executive.  ... In upholding the power of the courts to review the action of the agency, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, in authorizing and carrying on the underground nuclear tests, in the District of Columbia, in circuit court upheld the judicial power, the power of the judiciary.  The Amchitka Case was in some part based upon the Nixon v. Sirica case, upholding the power of the court to govern the extent, to compel disclosure of tapes in the Watergate Papers case.  [Editor's Note: In Nixon v. Sirica (1973), the court ruled against President Richard M. Nixon and upheld that Nixon's executive privilege was not absolute.] SI:  Watergate? CS:  The Watergate tapes. DS:  Watergate, right, yes.  Again, I stayed, during the case, in the Watergate Hotel, in Washington, by coincidence.  The present controversy is between the power of Congress, the legislative body, not the executive body, and the power of the executives to withhold or to take the extreme position, [in] which Ms. Miers, I think, the one who Bush tried to [in 2005] appoint to the Supreme Court and became his counsel, they refused to appear before the Committee headed by the Vermont Senator, I'll remember the name, and also the chief advisor of Bush who has been subpoenaed.  I'll remember his name, too.  [Editor's Note: Mr. Sive is referring to Harriet Miers and Karl Rove's failure to appear before the Senate Judiciary Committee, chaired by Vermont Senator Patrick Leahy, to testify in its hearing on the dismissal of US Attorneys.] That is another illustration of the mixing of judicial powers and the powers of other departments, and the executive privilege question arises in controversies involving, generally, two of the three basic branches of government.  The environmental litigations continued all through the course of my own legal practice, and, of course, in the leadership of environmental organizations. One of the important and very interesting events, to me, was, in 1965 through 1967, there was, first, the vote, in '65, on Election Day, the vote, "Yes," the affirmative vote, for the holding of a constitutional convention, a state constitutional convention, which the New York State Constitution requires, I believe, every twenty years.  This dates back to a time, ... well, in the nineteenth century, when part of the growth of constitutions was involved in expanding the power of people to review and legislators to hold constitutional conventions, which goes back to Revolutionary War times.  ... Immediately after the "Yes" vote, I and members of the leaders of the Adirondack Mountain Club and the Appalachian Mountain Club and the Association for the Protection of the Adirondacks organized a Constitutional Council for the Forest Preserve, "CCFP," to carry on the political work involving the composition of the convention, the determination of who would be the delegates to the convention.  That was determined to be elected delegates elected by state senate district. The work of the people protecting the Forest Preserve involved very heavy political work in the election of delegates who would support Article XIV from any amendments of it damaging the scope and extent of it.  That led to the election of a majority of a majority of the delegates being Democrats.  The Democrats, as you can imagine, were largely the delegates from the state senate districts in the big cities, New York, Buffalo, Albany, etc., and the Republican delegates from the rural districts.  The Democrats outnumbered the Republicans and controlled the convention.  Their leader, the President of the Convention, was a classical Tammany Hall figure, an Anthony Travia.  Well, at that time, ... I think I had become, in part because of my activities in Democratic clubs and Democratic committees, which included the candidacy for Congress in '58. I was a leading Democratic environmental advocate and appointed the staff head of the Committee on Natural Resources and Agriculture, heading a staff of six or seven who did the work, the background work, for the convention delegates involved in those issues.  ... It was very interesting to, in my view, really educate the Democratic delegates, largely from the big cities, none of whom had the background of myself, of hiking and camping in the Adirondacks and Catskills and getting to love it passionately. I did succeed in convincing the Democratic members to uphold the Forest Preserve, pointing out, among other things, that the chief person supporting the continuance of the Forest Preserve provision of the constitution, at a convention in '38, was Al Smith.  [Editor's Note: Former New York Governor Alfred E. Smith served as a delegate to the 1938 New York Constitutional Convention, which established Article XIV, formerly Article VII. He had been the 1928 Democratic Presidential nominee.]  ... [You can see] the history of the protection of the Forest Preserve by the aristocratic groups and the middle-class groups of, largely, the hiking clubs, which were politicized in the '60s and '70s, and became, ... in many respects, the core of the environmental movement. Organizations such as the Theodore Gordon Flyfishers, which was, in my experience, a very aristocratic group. Fly-fishing is not a sport of poor or too many middle-class people.  Among the controversies which involved what you might call environmental law.  If you define environmental law as that law which is used to protect and advance environmental interests, then, it includes a part of real estate law.  As an instance, an important law governing the taxation of real property by municipalities where the property is owned by a nature trust or a nature conservancy is an aspect of environmental law.  ... That led to, to me, in some respects, the most satisfying case in terms of establishing some legal doctrine in a field in which I was far from an expert.  Environmental law became a part of [other fields] of law and other bodies of law became parts of what you might deem environmental law.  The other fields included the law of zoning, the law of real estate taxation, the procedural law involved in the civil procedure in the state courts, the state court rules governing the scope of administrative action, and the judicial review of administrative action by state agencies. The involvement in other fields of law by me came to one head in connection with lands owned by a so-called Mohonk Trust, which owns, I think, about six thousand acres, in the Shawangunk Mountains of New York State, in western Orange County and part of Sullivan County.  The lands were given to the Trust by the Mohonk Mountain House Corporation.  [Editor's Note: The case was Mohonk Trust v. Board of Assessors of Town of Gardiner (1979).]  The area in Shawangunk Mountains were originally acquired by a Quaker family, the Smileys, and the lands included, in the mid or late '70s, I don't recall the time, the so-called Minnewaska Tract, in the center of which was the Minnewaska Hotel, and the Mohonk Mountain House.  It is still a great and well-known resort. The Smiley Family, owning the Mountain House, conveyed lands to the Trust surrounding the Mountain House lands of four or five thousand acres, which it had given free to the trust, for which the family charged ten dollars an acre. The question arose, a question of real estate law of what qualifies ... for exemption from real property taxes.  The question involves a determination of whether the land is used for charitable or educational purposes or the promotion of the moral welfare of men, women or children, language which came from the original certificate of incorporation of the YMCA.  That question involved whether those lands, which are kept really as a wilderness, were lands used purely for education or charitable purposes or the promotion of moral welfare, I forget the exact word, of men, women or children.  ... That case was determined against me in the State Supreme Court, the trial court, and the Appellate Division, the intermediate appellate court.  I appealed to the Court of Appeals.  The lower courts reversed and held that the use of lands as wilderness or a park purpose was educational.  The question, the most interesting one, was that of whether educational function required a classroom, some kind of formal class. A fascinating part of this, to me, was the use in the briefs and in oral argument of a quotation of a poem of William Wordsworth.  Wordsworth is a poetic god to me.  I have a [collection of poetry] here on the table.  The principal quotation was, "One impulse from a vernal wood [may] teach you more of man, of moral evil and of good, than all the sages can."  The case has been fairly widely cited and used by the Nature Conservancy, and other organizations holding wilderness lands, in part because the basic statute governing the taxation in many states is very similar to the New York statute and, thus, involves the same questions. The case illustrates the necessity of lawyers involved in environmental litigations becoming knowledgeable or expert in other branches of law, and the fact that the several branches overlap.  This is illustrated also in a number of cases where the governance of land is by fairly traditional zoning ordinances.  Zoning ordinances and the institution in law of zoning date back, I think, to the late nineteenth century.  They, of course, govern the use of lands, and the zoning authority is lodged, generally, with municipalities.  ... That is the reason for the establishment, in, I think, the early 1920s, of municipalities, in very small areas and [with] populations of less than a thousand people, near the North Shore of Long Island, near Huntington, Long Island, and Syosset, to vest the governance of land-use in municipalities which they could control.  The development of environmental law involved the law of zoning, and, actually, in my firm now, one of the partners is a lawyer who has carried on, for many years, almost wholly a zoning practice.  ... The zoning bar is a fairly separate group of lawyers interested in zoning law and representing interests in the adoption and enactment of zoning ordinances and the interpretation of them.  I was involved in a large number of such cases.  The most interesting one was in the early '80s, of myself, was one in which the words of a statute were involved.  A chief problem is that of whether the words should be given a broad interpretation or a narrow interpretation. There, too, in that controversy, you find that several interest groups contradict themselves.  Some people, for instance want a broad interpretation of government power against the law of privacy, which they say doesn't exist, is a mistake, in the abortion controversy.  The most personal power imaginable, to govern a woman's body, is protected by Huckabee and all the others with him, and, yet, they oppose as wicked government in economic regulation. The most interesting case involving zoning, and, as in many cases, the interpretation of words, is one in which I represented, for the first time, a developmental interest, [Town of Henrietta v. Department of Environmental Conservation].  ... That was in the early '80s, when Leonard Dobbs, a real estate developer in New York; ... worked together with and operated on behalf of a large real estate developer in Detroit, whose name I forget.  The Detroit developer became fairly famous and went to jail.  He was involved in the collection of art works.  I don't recall the name. Dobbs spoke to me and told me that, in his view, the interest of a private person in [the] protection of the environment included that of determining the uses of the land and in other aspects of the development, in his case, a proposed shopping center in the Town of Henrietta, a suburb of Rochester.  He owned a tract of land which he wanted to develop for the shopping center, and that involved, of course, the interpretation of a section of the zoning law of the Town of Henrietta.  That zoning law section was a section which bears, again, a name which I forget, the description of shopping centers, and shopping centers which involved multiple uses of land.  The centers often have, well, ... the land parcel on which the pure shopping facility is built is [often] next to or close to a residential portion of the land parcel.  The zoning laws governing large tracts which include shopping centers often permit the multiple uses within a parcel, a large parcel.  The law governing development of shopping centers became very important with the fantastic expansion of shopping centers, beginning, I think, after World War II.  The law governing shopping centers prescribes the governmental actions in a chain of governmental actions ending with the final approval of the shopping center.  ... The process includes the reference of the proposal of the application to an administrative body, a planning department, and then, the approval by the planning department and the holding of a public hearing before the legislative body, the town council, and the approval after that hearing.  It involves, of course, the review of the actions of administrative agencies, a department of planning or a chief planner, and the legislative action of the town governing body and often a review of those by the court.  ... The proposed grant of the final approval of the shopping center planned by my client came down to, to me, the most fascinating exercise in law, of the interpretation of statutes. I think ever since, oh, even before I became a lawyer, I've always been fascinated with the use of words and the different definitions of words.  ... That's really the heart of most law and that's part of my interest in law.  Well, the Henrietta case involved the definition of the word "If."  The ordinance governing shopping centers provided, in substance, that "if" the planning department grants the approval of the application, the application shall proceed to, in this case, to the town council for legislative action.  An application was made if the developer of another shopping center area in the same town and illustrating the use of environmental law by different interests, developmental interests, as distinguished from environmental interests, each developer instigated, in part, the creation of a citizen's committee opposed to the other guy's development.  The contest was between the two developers with two sets of lawyers.  I opposed the application of the other developer.  The Henrietta zoning ordinance provided that "if" an application for approval of a shopping center was approved by the town's planning department the applicant might proceed to request a public hearing in the application by the Town of Henrietta council, and that the Council would make the final approval of the project.  The rival developer did not secure the approval of the Planning Department, but nonetheless applied to the Town Council which held a public hearing and approved the application.  I brought an injunction action alleging that the plain meaning of zoning ordnance was that the statute forbade the Town Council hearing if the applicant did not secure the Planning Department's approval. The attorneys for the rival developer argued that the ordinances, by providing that the ordinance plainly meant that if an applicant did not secure the planning commission's approval, the Town Council might not hold a hearing and approve the project.  The trial court held that the rival developer might secure the Town Council's approval despite the failure of the developer to secure the approval of the Planning Department.  It approved the argument of the rival developer's attorneys that the ordinance did not forbid such approval because to do so required the ordinance to provide that such Town Council action was not forbidden, that to do so required to state that such action was forbidden because the ordinance failed to provide that such Town Council action "if, and only if," the Planning Department approved the application. I appealed the trial court judgment to the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court.  It upheld the trial court judgment.  I appealed to the Court of Appeals, the State's highest court.  It reversed the prior decisions.  It ruled that stating "if, and only if," was not necessary. This is fascinating because one of the arguments against lawyers, and always is, is, "They're putting [in] unnecessary provisions and they're just expanding a simple word to be a whole chain of words and clauses," in a will or a contract or a statute, but the Court of Appeals held that the statute didn't have to provide "If-comma-and only if-comma," but, for different reasons, ... I don't think the shopping center was ever built.  There arose, I think, financial problems of the main financier of it, who became involved in some criminal action, the details of which I forget.  That case, ... what I call the Henrietta Case, was I think the first case involving action under the state analog of the [National] Environmental Policy Act.  Through the years, a number of states copied the federal act and enacted, in the state, a law fashioned after it, requiring an environmental impact statement for any agency action, governmental action, involving environmental consequences.  The law is differently phrased, but that's what it means in substance.  So, the development of environmental impact statements and the interpretation of what is called the "state NEPA" or the "Little NEPA," is now a big fraction of the practice of and work of the traditional zoning bar, as well as the other aspects of zoning.  A zoning lawyer is one of the partners in my firm.  Also involved in the development of environmental law is the law of taxation, what charitable organizations shall be taxed, both in federal and state context, in addition to the municipal context in the Mohonk Case.  This first developmental interest which I represented really affected profoundly the growth of my firm, from originally, when it was established in '71 or '72, with three partners, who were one part of a larger firm which divided, because of some very intense disputes among the partners during the time that I was both an associate and, later, a partner.  The firm was originally three partners and one associate, just finishing at Harvard Law School.  He was the son of one of the larger clients of the firm when it divided and left with four or three partners and one associate.  The representation of developmental interests is something which posed questions and problems, and no doubt, to some extent, may be criticized by people who criticize lawyers, saying, ... "You represent opposing interests," or, "You represent opposing interests in opposing cases for different interests," and, here, again, you take different sides of it.  I personally don't like [former Mayor of New York City and Republican candidate for President Rudy] Giuliani's representation of some of his clients and some of his clients, one of his, is some Middle East development company, but the practice of environmental law in representing developmental interests is very important in the development of environmental law.  ... Beginning in the '80s, I think about the mid-'80s, the classical, large law firms, the Wall Street firms in New York and the comparable ones in Chicago and other places, began to place in their staff, both in partners' and associates' [positions], environmental lawyers, and the environmental law sections in the practice by the large, prestigious law firms has been of tremendous importance in the growth of environmental law.  ... These law firms which established environmental sections will occasionally represent ... an environmental interest which may be a wealthy owner of lands who opposes the enactment of an amendment to a zoning ordinance which rezones property adjoining or near his property for commercial uses.  ... At this time, now and for several years, the environmental sections of the large [firms], two hundred, four hundred, fifteen hundred lawyers, are quite large, as in the Chicago firm where my son-in-law works, a very large, classical one.  I think that the environmental section of it has between fifteen and twenty lawyers in one of the classical New York firms.  ... [TAPE PAUSED] SI:  Go ahead. DS:  Which has a large New York office. SI:  This is the Philadelphia law firm.  DS:  Yes, has an environmental section of forty lawyers and the practice is mainly for developmental interests.  ... The practice of environmental law, to the extent that it's the representation of governmental agencies, which is important, can be both furthering the environmental purpose [of] the good guys and the bad guys, and that is another illustration that [is in] support of the stability of government.  ... In one sense, you think it's hypocritical, but, in a larger sense, it stabilizes governmental institutions.  Well, ... my firm has grown, and I just went in to its annual Christmas party, to twenty lawyers and I think the firm is the largest virtually wholly environmental firm in the country, and it now involves one partner who deals solely with insurance, the insurance involved in properties ... the use of which leads to controversy.  That is the reason for there being one lawyer devoted to environmental law and involved in insurance, insurance law.  Well, the practice of environmental law, like, I suppose, other bodies of the law, and this is most interesting, I imagine, to you [Christopher], with a background as a lawyer, is, of course, an interesting illustration of how law develops, how a body of law develops.  A body of law develops by legislation and it develops by court determinations of law, to develop judicially.  ... The body of environmental law, [as] I've said ... in various contexts, law review articles and lectures and teaching courses, is the largest body of law developed, at least in its early stages, mainly by courts, and this leads to the importance of environmental litigation and led to the teaching of environmental litigation as a separate course, the first at Columbia Law School in the mid and late '70s, going into the '80s, and led to the development of environmental law and the laws defining environmental law as the subject of agencies of Continuing Legal Education in the law, CLE.  ... The continuing education of professional bodies is, I think, a post-World War II growth.  This is maybe best studied by sociologists and political scientists, in the law and other professions, accounting and medicine and others, and, in there, that has been a large part of my own work and practice, and that arose out of the establishment of a course, one, and then, several, in environmental law and environmental litigation by the most important CLE agency in the law field, what's called ALI-ABA, A-L-I-A-B-A, the American Law Institute-American Bar Association Joint Committee on Continuing Legal Education.  It's the longest name of any group I know anywhere.  [laughter] That was called the Committee on Legal Education of [the] two agencies, but known in short as "ALI-ABA."  It began the first CLE course in environmental law, which was sponsored by the California Bar Association, which had a three-day conference, CLE conference, in San Francisco, which I joined out in California.  ... Then, the head of this joint committee, a gentleman who became very well-known and famous in law circles, a Paul Wolkin, actually phoned me in the Fall of '70.  He had read about the Hilton Head Island Case, among others, in the Times andLife Magazine and others, and an article in Fortune Magazine, and asked me to begin to organize an environmental law course for ALI-ABA, which I did.  The first course was held in Washington, in, I remember, it was very picturesque, I think they call it the Hall of Whales.  It's a huge room which has whales suspended [from the ceiling in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History].  That was in September '71 and I carried on as the head of the principal environmental law course of ALI-ABA, really, for thirty-three years.  2004, I think, was the last one and, after three or four years of alternating Washington and San Francisco as the site of it, it was established each year in Boulder, Colorado, and that came about, the designation of Boulder as the one location for it, I think with the invention, at least as far as I know, the use by me first, of the term "environmental litigation."  ... That's another funny story, that among the persons whom I met at the conference in San Francisco, the first one was a member of the law faculty of the University of Colorado Law School and he was also present at a second CLE conference, which was in '71 at Boulder, too, and which I attended.  ... Then, he asked me to teach environmental law in the summer session of the new Colorado Law School in '76.  Well, I taught that and got to love Boulder, as so many people do.  [laughter] It's one of the most fantastically beautiful places to work.  The National Atmospheric Administration is there, also some other agencies, and always funny to me [was] seeing waiters at the restaurants who were beautiful young women and not the classes of people who have the jobs [typically], ... some of which only immigrants will supply now.  So, at the end of this course, I told him I'd like to come back.  Well, at the CLE conference, which he attended, he asked me if I would bring the CLE course I wrote up to Boulder.  So, I invented the term "environmental litigation" and the course was billed as a course in environmental litigation.  To some extent, a body of law is built by people teaching it, and the first courses in environmental law in law school were around 1970, and in '76, I think it was, was the first course in environmental law at a law school faculty.  ... I carried on a seminar at Columbia, beginning in '72, in environmental law.  To teach that, I resigned from teaching a course, a graduate course, in civil practice, in discovery, which was a separate field, at NYU, and then, at the end of the course in environmental litigation; ... no, at the end of the course in environmental law, the whole of it, in Boulder in '75 or '76, ... in the summer session, I went to the University of Wisconsin Law School at Madison and taught an environmental law course there, and then, in the four or five years following, taught, I said as half joke and half seriously, "I'll teach it in a scenic place."  So,I was invited to teach it at Utah in the late '70s, and then, at Seattle in Washington, the State of Washington, and the teaching involved a large part of my time, together with the writing of law review articles.  The one in [the] Columbia [Law Review] has been re-published in a fairly large number of collections of essays and books which are turned out on any subject.  They reprint them.  Then, in the mid-'80s, I went for a whole semester to the University of Indiana and its law school, and there taught two courses, which most faculty members taught.  The second one was administrative law.  I'd become an expert in about the one-third of administrative law which is the judicial review of administrative action.  I then taught, later on and in recent years, beginning around 1999, I think, environmental law at Pace University in White Plains, which has been a very important center of environmental law teaching, in large part through the leadership of a member of the faculty, Nicholas Robinson, ... who worked for me in the Summer of '68, I believe.  ... [TAPE PAUSED] DS:  Nick was a student at Columbia in, oh, I forget the exact year, but ... in the late '60s, and he had an interest in environmental law, and like so many others who practiced it, the interest was developed first through his being a nature lover and a camper and hiker, [in] his case in California.  ... He worked in my office, without any compensation, in drafting one of the briefs in the Hudson River Expressway Case.  ... The Hudson River Expressway Case is an interesting illustration of the development of a part of constitutional law, which is environmental law, one, and perhaps the most important, illustration is the law of standing, which is a constitutional question.  ... Then, he began practice teaching, and then, was a counsel in my firm for many years, and then, started the environmental section at Pace.  It has been, for many years, the third-ranking ... of all law schools in the teaching of environmental law, in the ranking by US News and World Report, which ... ranks professional schools.  So, the last few years of my practice, I taught, in addition to practicing, courses in, well, one course in environmental law and that, plus, some other duties was my work as the faculty, and I think that it is correct that the growth of environmental law is more the result of litigation than virtually any other field of law.  ... I think that's correct because the enactment of environmental statutes followed a fair number of important cases which established part of environmental law, and I've said that environmental law is more owed to litigation than virtually any other important body of law, and it's in large part, I think, because the development of the law, ... the development of litigation, environmental litigation, is not wholly the accident of becoming involved in a dispute.  A negligence case arises because somebody's in an automobile accident.  Contract law arises because [of] a dispute over [the] breach or interpretation of a contract.  The making of environmental law has, to a large extent, and it would be interesting to study this and figure, estimate, the percentage has been, the deliberate program of environmental organizations, environmental law firms, the most important of which is, I think, NRDC, the Natural Resources Defense Council.  It's interesting, that and the story on page one of the Times yesterday, in the article about the Bali Conference, [the 2007 United Nations Climate Change Conference].  There's a whole paragraph which quotes a David Doniger, the principal representative at the conference of NRDC.  NRDC, I think, has become, and maybe this is just my view, but I think it's correct, the greatest of all organizational law firms, in large part because its lawyers have been the top students from the elite schools, which have always been sought after by the elite law firms.  ... One interesting aspect of it now is that a top student from an elite school can command a beginning salary of one hundred fifty thousand dollars, which is, in some respects, shocking, particularly when I compare it to my fifty dollars a week.  I was not a top student, but a good student, above average one, at Columbia.  The organized development of law is now carried on by anti-environmental agencies, I think the most important one of which is the Washington Law Foundation.  It sponsors an article on the op-ed page in the Timesby the head of a corporate interest law firm and they carry on the bringing and prosecution of lawsuits to advance the commercial interests of corporations.  ... They very soundly criticize, I think, hypocritically, without naming them, NRDC and environmental clinics at law schools.  The whole development of organized lawmaking, you might call it, which some people may criticize and some people think is un-American and unconstitutional, because you're not basing the standing on traditional interest to property or person.  So, the development of environmental law is, in part, the work of these action agencies, Environmental Defense Fund, now called Environmental Defense, and NRDC and classes at law schools.  Pace has now a faculty member who carries on an environmental clinic. Columbia has one, organized, for some reason, late in the process.  Ten or twelve years ago, they asked me, and a couple of others, to form a committee and help them organize an interesting study to determine to what extent environmental law is this purposeful making of law, making of it not simply in the legislative bodies, and, also, environmental law has involved, well, I mentioned involves borrowing of law from other bodies of law and the definitions of words.  The illustration of the definition of words is most dramatically shown by the word "if," but, in the early period, and continuing to this day, environmental organizations and environmental faculty at law schools heading clinics which ... use the work of students as part of law training is one big branch of, one big portion of, environmental law. SI:  1982, I believe. DS:  ... '82?  Yes, since '82, my own work has been about half teaching, half academic work and writing, and half law practice.  The law practice has continued to be primarily litigation and, that you mentioned, the aspects, the earthly aspects, of the trial of environmental cases.  Well, I think that, to a large extent, the litigation of environmental suits involves a lesser fraction of cases tried, in the strict sense, than cases decided by other means, by settlement, by summary judgment motion, by motions to dismiss, in large part because it's been the review of administrative action.  ... The review of administrative action is limited to action which ... violates a statute, makes the wrong decision on a question of law, or, where there are questions of fact, determines whether the administrative action is arbitrary or without foundation.  So, there are very few cases I can [recall], I think only one, really, I think, [that were] determined after a trial, and that was in the Hudson River Expressway Case, where there was a thirty-day trial because the claims which I made involved action of the Army Corps of Engineers in granting a permit to build a "dike," [in] quotes.  ... The question was whether the planned six-lane expressway along the riverfront involved a construction of "dikes" or whether what I claimed were dikes were "levees," as used in the Rivers and Harbors Act of 1899.  The case was a very important part of early environmental law and litigation. The court finally held that it did involve "dykes."  The Army Corps of Engineers, among other things, in its several drawings in connection with [the] construction, themselves referred to several parts of it as involving "dikes."  Well, the court finally held what I argued, that a dike was distinguished from a "levee."  A levee holds back floodwaters, whereas a dike impedes or governs the main channel of a river.  Part of my proof was that the expressway would extend far enough out from the shore, I think a couple hundred yards in several places, as to deflect the main current of the Hudson River, both ways, because it's a tidal body all the way up to Albany and Troy.  So, I can't point to any special aspect of the trial of a case which has involved an environmental litigation, and that involves, of course, use of expert witnesses a good deal, but that's not unique to environmental cases.  ... Well, yes, there was a trial, forgive me, and an important and interesting case, what I call the Trident Case, [Concerned About Trident, Inc. v. Schlesinger].  I don't think I mentioned that in the Sierra Club interview.  SI:  No, you did not.  We only touched on it very briefly last time. DS:  Yes.  Well, the Trident Case was tried before a judge who had a military background before appointment by Eisenhower, I'll remember his name.  It involved opposition to the enlargement of a submarine base along the Hood Canal, which connects Puget Sound on the north with a body of water further south.  ... The base would be constructed, and has been, on the eastern shore of the Canal, which is about twenty miles west from Seattle proper.  The objection to the Trident Base, the most important claim was the NEPA claim, that the environmental impact statement was insufficient.  The environmental impact statement, the matters which are to be covered in it, are set forth in the statute, and among the matters is alternatives to the administrative action.  The base was ... planned to be enlarged to accommodate a given number of submarines, I think twenty, and the given number of submarines which [it] was determined to have the base accommodate depended on the predictions of Soviet action, the Russians, "What will they do?"  Well, the litigation of alternatives, in the, I think, infrequent trials and the more frequent papers in support of and in opposition to a summary judgment motion, by either the plaintiffs or the defendants, the presence of alternatives is one of the most important and really one of the easiest things to hang a claim on under the act.  So, I claimed that the alternatives which were required to be studied and weren't studied were the alternatives of reducing the possibilities and probabilities of war with the Russians, very logically.  If you're not worried too much about the Russians, you don't need twenty submarines.  You should have studied the alternative of a base to accommodate ten submarines, which would reduce the environmental impact of the base and its surrounding area.  ... That surrounding area included residences, the principal and second homes, of a number of persons along the Hood Canal and back from the Hood Canal, which had been organized by a citizens' committee, by a local lawyer, a young fellow by the name of [Philip] Best.  He phoned me and I think knew of me through reading law review articles.  He asked me to represent the opponents to the Trident Base expansion.  They included one fairly famous person, a Walter Heller, who was the head of the Council of Economic Advisors for Carter, and lived in Minnesota and came from there, but had a second home, where I think he grew up, near Seattle and along the Hood Canal, I think adjoining the southern side of the base and the construction.  [Editor's Note: Walter W. Heller served as chair of the Council of Economic Advisors from 1961 to 1964 under Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson.]  There was a citizens' committee and, because this involved nuclear submarines, a peace organization in British Columbia, and what I call an ad hoc citizens' committee.  It is a feature of the environmental movement and environmental law, the formation of particular committees, ad hoc groups, for the purpose of opposing, generally, an environmentally important action, both politically and legally.  The prohibition of needless litigation involves ethical questions, if lawyers bring cases which are not needed, and also for the financial reasons; the ad hoc groups are generally underfunded.  Large portions of my, particularly early, environmental practice and litigation have been unpaid or paid one small fraction of the regular charge. The Trident action involved the citizens' committee and Walter Heller and [other] individuals. The head of the citizens' committee was a very well-known head of the School of Public Administration [Evans School of Public Affairs] at the U. of Washington, a kind of ancestral family of the Seattle area.  A principal street in Seattle, that is an exit from the interstate, [bears] his family name.  ... I brought the action in the district court in Washington, DC, and alleged that ... the environmental impact statement was insufficient in several respects, including the failure to treat all the reasonable alternatives, one of which was peace.  Well, the principal witness for the defendants, ... the Department of Defense, which [James Rodney] Schlesinger became the head of during the case, had as one of its chief witnesses a rear admiral who worked at the Omaha Airbase in Omaha, Nebraska.  ... In cross-examining him, both in a deposition and at the trial, I asked him, did he consider the alternative of peace? and the court sustained the objection to that question, holding, correctly or incorrectly, that they're not going to go into predicting the chances of war or peace in predicting the strength and program of the Russians.  Maybe it wasn't intended that the probabilities of war or peace be litigated.  The environmental impact statement was held sufficient by the trial court.  I appealed, and two of five claims about the insufficiency in [the] environmental impact statement, not the war or peace, not the alternative section, were held by the Court of Appeals of the Washington, DC, Circuit that the statement was insufficient.  It reversed, in part, and remanded the action to the District Court but did not enjoin the project, and I advised the clients that, "I don't see the wisdom of carrying on with the very difficult raising of money to pay even a fraction of the fair charges to me as worthwhile."  So, I didn't litigate a retrial of the issues involved in these two aspects of the EIS and the appeal of that when the Court of Appeals didn't enjoin the project.  ... The case, in the determination of the trial judge, as well as the Court of Appeals, a determination which was questioned on appeal, a course appeal by the government, by Schlesinger, who had become the head of the Department of Defense, and his name was substituted in the name of the case, the case was not carried on.  I didn't carry on the case beyond the determination by the Court of Appeals, but, in an earlier ruling by the trial court, sustained by the appeals court, the application of NEPA to defense agencies, to military agencies, was upheld.  ... The case is important for that doctrine, in some respects, similar to the Amchitka Case.  [The Amchitka Case] was an important case in the law of executive privilege, and that's another feature of environmental cases, I think, environmental litigation, that, more frequently, there are important determinations which make the law, [more so] than in other bodies of law, very often for the same reason that has held me back from carrying on litigation, the purely financial reason, that there's so much which a client can raise and so much which the lawyer will work for. The importance of volunteer work, pro bono work, by lawyers is a feature of environmental law.  In that respect, of course, it's similar to the law governing civil liberties and other bodies of law. One of the most important early controversies in the '60s involved an oil spill at Santa Barbara.  [Editor's Note: In 1969, an offshore oil platform accident caused a massive oil spill in the channel off of Santa Barbara.]  Santa Barbara is a place of pretty fancy people.  Another very important controversy, which didn't come to litigation, where I was involved leading the Sierra Club, was the controversy involving the so-called "Great Swamp," the wetlands and large swamp area east of Morristown and south of this area, about twenty-five miles south.  So, that growth of environmental law, by the deliberate litigation of individuals and organizations created to litigate, among other things, is a feature of environmental law, and the making of parts of the law by determinations apart from the grant of the principal actions sought by the plaintiff is a feature of environmental law. I think the Hudson River Expressway Case may, to this day, be one instance of a permanent injunction of a large environmental project by a case which went through the whole course and trial and the Court of Appeals and the Court of Appeals upholding it and denial of certiorari by the Supreme Court.  The defendants, the Department of Transportation of New York State and the Army Corps of Engineers, sought unsuccessfully certiorari by the Supreme Court.  So, those are features of environmental litigation and ... perhaps the expert testimony may be a larger portion of the environmental litigation, both in the pretrial stages, the affidavits of experts, and at the comparatively rare number of cases which are tried.  Another dramatic illustration of the ... definition of words was in the case involving the construction of an interstate through the principal park of the City of Memphis.  [Editor's Note: Mr. Sive is referring to the landmark US Supreme Court case of Citizens to Preserve Overton Park v. Volpe (1971), in which a citizen's group fought the extension of I-40 through Overton Park in Memphis, Tennessee.]  I didn't participate in that case, though I participated a good deal in the controversy, in the political aspects of it.  The statute forbad the crossing or the use of parkland which would inhibit the main use of the parkland, and the road was planned to cross what is really the, quote, "Central Park of the City of Memphis."  So, that is illustrative of the several features.  That, too, was litigated at the insistence of an ad hoc group. I think in environmental cases, well, to the extent that environmental cases involved the use of parkland, National Parks or state parks or municipal parks, and a good number of them do, including the Nashville Case, which went to the Supreme Court, ... as many other cases now; I should have mentioned it, environmental cases are about a third of the material in a textbook or treatise on administrative law and, conversely, administrative law involves, well, like, environmental law, involves administrative law.  Well, in the Trident Case, one feature [that] was not a feature of law is the participation by the attorneys, and the ad hoc or permanent groups, in raising money.  ... In the Trident Case, one of the interesting parts was the raising of money by the ad hoc committee by ... running boat trips in the Hood Canal and looking at the shoreline.  The shoreline, the eastern shore of the Hood Canal, is one of, I think, among the most beautiful places in the world, because you look out over the canal, it's not technically a canal it's a natural body of water two or three miles, virtually against the shoreline is the Olympic Mountains, snowcapped.  There aren't too many places in the world where, from the ocean or sea, you see snowcapped mountains, at least in the temperate zones of the world.  The raising of monies and the involvement of the attorneys and the parties in the raising of monies for the lawyers can, in some cases, be questions of the professional ethics of lawyers.  ... I think that the participation of lawyers as advocates, other than in litigation or the traditional work of lawyers, participation as advocates, is almost unique in administrative law.  I'm not familiar with the large number of lawyers mentioned in the civil liberties field who are known for their participation in the politics, the political movement.  I can name a couple, but I don't think that it is as much as in environmental law.  One interesting aspect of the Trident Case was the examination, oral examination, of officers of the citizen's group in an effort to determine how many people went on a boat trip and how much they contributed to that boat trip.  Well, correctly, the court sustained, at the trial, my objection to that motion, ... the effort to get the evidence by the defendants, the Department of Defense and its lawyers, that was where the judge with the military background sustained me in my claims at the trial.  The Trident Case was very interesting and involved, personally, a number of trips to Seattle, where, for different reasons, my sister lived, though she came from Brooklyn, and led, I think, to the teaching at the U. of Washington in Seattle. Other cases in the later period, yes, included cases involving the construction of "Forever Wild."  That's the battle cry of the environmentalists in the Adirondacks and the Catskills.  ... One interesting feature there, which was unique in environmental law, to the extent that that body of law is made by litigation in the Adirondacks and, also, a good number of cases in the Catskills, I don't think I was in any important case in the Catskills, just as a matter of coincidence, the constitutional provision of [the] New York State Constitution providing that the lands constituting the Forest Preserve shall be kept forever wild was originally enacted as part of the Constitution in 1894.  ... For reasons which I don't think anybody knows exactly, the proponents of that, and I imagine that included persons who helped in writing it, because they were the Great Camps people, beginning around 1870, included Section IV, which says, in substance, "Any citizen may bring an action to enforce this article."  That was a unique citizen's provision, seventy years before the citizen's provision of the Clean Air Act and sixty-five years before the standing of the citizens' group Scenic Hudson [was] sustained in the Scenic Hudson Case.  The principal historic case ... involving the "Forever Wild" provision, [MacDonald v. Association for the Protection of the Adirondacks(1930)] was a case brought by the Association for the Protection of the Adirondacks, a group of wealthy people, to enjoin the building of a [bobsled run] at the 1932 Olympics.  ... It held that that building of a track on Forest Reserve land violated the provisions of what was then Article VII.  It was renumbered later on [in the 1938 New York State Constitutional Convention]. My own work in the "Forever Wild" cases, yes, there was one or two others, back in the early '70s, I'm not certain whether this is in the Sierra Club [interview], involved the enactment of the Adirondack Park Agency Act, which created an Adirondack Park Agency to which was granted the land use control, the zoning power, of the whole Adirondack Park area.  It is half Forest Preserve land, state land, half private land, which is about eight thousand square miles.  It's a huge fraction of the, oh, approximately forty-nine thousand square miles of New York State, equal to the area of Connecticut, I think.  ... When that act was enacted by the state, a lumber interest and others brought suits to declare it unconstitutional and the constitutionality of it was upheld.  In one case which I brought, there were two cases, I brought [it] with the plaintiffs, including the Association for the Protection of the Adirondacks, the rich guys, and the Sierra Club and the Adirondack Mountain Club.  The Adirondack Park Agency Act, interestingly enough, was the work of [Nelson] Rockefeller when he was Governor.  He created [it] around '67, when, for different reasons, because of the growth of the environmental movement in general, which I date in '65, from the Storm King Mountain [Case] and Rachel Carson's Silent Spring book, he became interested, I think, both [because of that and] because a Rockefeller Family member owned one of the Great Camps near a so-called Ampersand Lake in the Adirondacks, near Saranac Lake, and other wealthy people, J. P. Morgan and investment bankers.  He [Rockefeller] created the Adirondack Park Agency to study the regulation of the private lands of the Adirondacks, in addition to the governance of the state lands by the constitutional provision, and he rammed through the Legislature the Adirondack Park Agency Act in 1970. One interesting part of that was, the environmental organizations in which I participated carried on very strong efforts to secure the enactment of the land use authority governing the Adirondacks by a state agency, as distinguished from the Town of Tupper Lake and the Town of Lake Placid and the town where Keene Valley lies, by the municipality with the zoning power.  The Adirondack Park Agency Act created the agency and gave it the power to zone the Adirondack area and they zoned the Adirondack Park area by classifying large areas as completely wild land, comparable to the lands of the Forest Preserve.  ... Those lands, the wild lands, included the wild lands of the Adirondack League Club and others and the lands treasured by the hikers, where I'd been going since the age of seventeen.  ... One aspect of it was, when the Adirondack Park Agency Act was enacted by the Legislature and went to the Governor for signature, it went to him on a Thursday.  ... I remember, on the Friday, my working the Saturday and part of Sunday to get a memo to be written by a friend in the Adirondacks, ... who's a lawyer, to write a memo to send to the Governor on behalf of the (APA?) and the Sierra Club and others including the Adirondack Mountain Club, sustaining the constitutionality of the Adirondack Park Agency Act, which was attacked by the developing interests, lumber companies and others, but I told him, "Please, get the memo done by Tuesday."  Well, Monday morning, Rockefeller signed the act.  We didn't have to do the memo, and that was an illustration of the wealth of environmentalists.  Another funny one was, in '70 or '71, I remember it was the time that I and two others, I perhaps mentioned this with [the] Sierra Club [interview], Whitney North Seymour, Jr., who was the US Attorney in the Southern District, and a Steven Duggan, a partner of the law firm who was the head of Scenic Hudson, ... when we were organizing NRDC [Natural Resource Defense Council], Laurance Rockefeller, a son of the Laurance Rockefeller, who had, among other things, ... somehow, he or his parents went through the bother of spelling his name differently, [often identified as Larry Rockefeller, Jr.], you always had to be careful when dealing with him, and he was plucked out by Steven Duggan to be among the first members of the board of NRDC.  He's been a member ever since, both when he was a student at Columbia Law School [and as] he worked for me for about five or six weeks in my office, on the legal aspects of the opposition to the expansion of the Newburgh Airport.  The Newburgh Airport was proposed by Rockefeller to be a fourth jetport and the Newburgh Airport lands were eight thousand acres, which, for some reason, was owned by the US and was one of the small airports given to the states after World War II.  There was a program of donation to aviation by the Federal Government of territorial lands and I brought a suit to enjoin the condemnation of the lands of the airport, including the unspoiled eight thousand acres.  My motion for an injunction was denied, but, and this maybe ... happens in environmental cases where the government leaders are environmental interests, ... Whiting North Seymour, Jr., was a top environmental interest proponent when he was a state senator, in the '60s, before he became the US Attorney for the Southern District of New York.  ... In yesterday's Times, the op-ed section has an article criticizing Giuliani for assuming too much credit as a lawyer for fighting the racketeers, pointing out that the Southern District of New York is the premier training ground, with standing and reputation, for lawyers, for young lawyers, and it's always been that and that's related to the occupancy of the US Attorney's Office, ... partially related to the District Attorney's Office in Manhattan County, New York County, being occupied for thirty-five years by [Robert Morris] Morgenthau.  That's what the article is about, pointing out the distinction of the Southern District as the great builder of the standing of young lawyers and of the US Attorney.  Well, coincidentally, you know, a good part of the growth of my firm is owed to the joining of the firm as associates of the two partners of Sive, Paget and Reisel, the firm, [David] Paget and [Daniel] Riesel both came out of the US Attorney's Office to my firm, although, perhaps to this day, they earned less than, substantially less than, the senior partners in the environmental sections of elite firms.  So, that involvement of lawyers as advocates and the attraction of a growing body of law which, like civil liberties, is part of the growth of environmental law.  ... [TAPE PAUSED] SI:  Thank you for lunch.  We were talking again about the course in discovery. DS:  Yes, right.  I got the idea for that from my own work and suggested it, at a party at the residence of Robert [B.] McKay, and he then seemed favorable, I think enthusiastic.  It was important and one of the growths of law, very important, was the growth in importance of the discovery process, after World War II.  ... I became quite knowledgeable in discovery by demands for documents and aspects of the scope of discovery as distinguished from the scope of admissibility at a trial.  ... Discovery, now, is, oh, a good fraction of a whole book of, or course on, civil practice, because far more cases are resolved [as] a result of or in discovery proceedings as those tried, particularly in commercial and corporate fields and environmental field, among others.  ... One of the highlights of that was beating Cyrus Vance in a discovery issue, [laughter] which they appealed to the Appellate Division.  That was the beginning of a friendship with Vance, because I've always made careful effort, as any good lawyer [does], to keep relationships with the adverse attorneys on a courteous and friendly level.  One aspect of that, which I don't know whether I mentioned in the Sierra Club interview [or not], a very interesting two or three years, I worked on litigation, as a lawyer, in the firm as a lawyer, for the State of Vermont.  Vermont brought a lawsuit in '70, which was part of the revolution, the environmental revolution of '70, through the efforts of a Robert [Jim] Jeffords, I think it's Robert, who's now the Senator from Vermont.  [Editor's Note: Mr. Sive is referring to Jim Jeffords; Senator Jeffords was the Vermont Attorney General in 1969.]  He was then the Attorney General for the state and was an environmentalist.  He decided to fight the International Paper Company, which had its principal paper processing plant on the western shore of Lake Champlain at Ticonderoga.  Pulp processing for paper is one of the dirtiest industries imaginable and the residue of the processing process is some gooey scum, which the International Paper Company, for fifty years, and its predecessor, would dump out in to Ticonderoga Bay, as well as air pollution, the smoke of the plant.  There was an important effort of a Lake Champlain committee, a citizen's committee, [to challenge the plant].  The chair of the committee was Peter Paine, those father was head of a bank and part of the governing community of a rural area.  ... I think it was they who suggested to Jeffords, in '69, that they engage me as their attorney.  Jeffords and the State of Vermont a suit by a state versus a state is the one original aspect of suits in the Supreme Court.  Their entire jurisdiction is appellate, except for a state versus a state. Since 1789, I think there have been only seventy-two original suits.  A number of them have involved interstate resources, like a large fraction of the principal rivers of the US.  One suit I know involved the Colorado River, ... which serves several states.  Another involved the states of Pennsylvania and Jersey and New York involving the Delaware River and the governance of the Delaware River, part of which is opening or closing the flow of waters out of the New York City reservoirs into the Delaware, the east branch, which is the source of the water supply of ... the City of Philadelphia.  They take the water from the Delaware a short distance I think south of Port Jarvis, and the three states were involved in an original suit.  I don't recall who was the plaintiff.  The resolution of that suit is a compact administered by a three-state commission, which governs the Delaware and determines when the gates shall be open from the Delaware River reservoir system which feeds New York's water. I became the attorney for the State of Vermont, I and the firm.  That was utterly fascinating, an original suit. Among other things, the rules governing the original suits essentially give the Supreme Court the power to enact its own civil practice code, its code of trial and discovery and every other part of a civil practice law.  ... One of the aspects of it which was interesting was the appointment as an examiner, the referee, of Ammi Cutter, conducting the suit, who was to conduct the suit and the proceedings and issue a report, which then goes to the full Supreme Court for adoption or rejection.  This was in early '70, the same time when everything else was happening, and the Supreme Court appointed as the examiner a [Richard] Ammi Cutter, C-U-T-T-E-R, who had just retired, or reached the retirement age, as one of the members of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts, which was the Massachusetts Court of Appeals or Supreme Court.  As soon as he was appointed, he called the attorneys for a meeting in his office in the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, and, there, I met the attorney for the International Paper Company and the State of New York.  The paper company's attorneys were an elite Wall Street firm, the name of which I'll remember, [Davis, Polk & Wardwell], but the individual attorney who attended the conference was a Taggart Whipple, III.  Whipple is a very aristocratic name in New York and Taggart, a member of this firm, [which] was known for its quality and aristocracy.  The attorney for the State of New York was a good friend, whose name I'll remember, too, who teaches at St. John's [University in New York City] and he was a partner, and still is, for many years, of a leading Westchester County firm and a good friend.  Well, he was there, and Whipple and I; we held a conference about how the suit should proceed.  ... At the end of the conference, Cutter insisted that the attorneys go for a walk with him through the aisles of the courthouse, in which he pointed out photographs and portraits of members of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts and other aspects, and I first got to understand this Cutter, who was a lawyer of some real standing and the head of the trusts and estates section of an elite Boston firm and the owner of a second home and land in the southern part of the White Mountains [of New Hampshire], which is a resort where Boston's proper people, ... a lot of them, have their summer homes.  The problem for me was, Cutter had never been in litigation and he didn't understand the function of discovery proceedings.  So, he held a large number of hearings, a number of hearings, personally, and wouldn't permit, didn't want, document production or oral depositions, didn't understand discovery practice.  Well, that was a problem and the suit went on and, ultimately, was settled, but part of it was a funny experience.  He carried on the suit at the time that I was on the Executive Committee of the Bar Association and the Executive Committee always used to host one of two annual meetings of the American Law Institute.  This is the scholars and the elite people.  I became a member of the Institute a few years before that, I think, and the hosting of the gathering was always at the City Bar Association, in their large and very lovely building, and is a highlight, a social highlight, of Executive Committee people and [their] families and others.  There were cocktails at the beginning of it and a large number of people assembled in one of the large rooms.  ... I then knew that Cutter's wife was there, and I wondered, "How do I greet her?  Do I talk to her?" because a trial lawyer, talking to a judge during a trial is forbidden.  So, I wondered about it, but, then, by chance, ... we were standing next to each other and we began to talk by her patting my shoulder and saying, "Oh, you're the young man in the suit.  I'm glad Ammi is busy."  [laughter] That rendered academic the calculation of how I should deal with her. The suit went on, with a number of sessions, meetings, by me, in Montpelier, the Vermont state capital.  ... One of the two or three men from the Vermont ... Attorney General's Office, appointed by Cutter, was a fellow by the name of John Calhoun, who was very pleasant.  We spent pleasant evenings dining in the restaurants and bars in Montpelier.  At the second or third of them, I was puzzled and I asked him, "By [the] way, if you don't mind my being personal, are you related to the John Calhoun?"  His answer was, "Nobody's ever proven I'm not." [laughter] That was pleasant, but challenging, and part of the reason for the engagement of me by the State of Vermont may have been the fact that I was charging a [good] deal less than the hourly charge which Taggart Whipple and his firm, I'm sure, was charging.  It was five thousand dollars a month, I think, which was really very small, but helping me in that suit, and this was another feature of environmental litigation, is the interest in it, as well as in other public law fields, developing law, of older people.  ... One day, a year or two before the suit, [I came to know] a gentleman by the name of Arthur Palmer, who had been a partner at one of the elite firms, then became bored with it, became an investment banker, then, decided he would try to practice some law.  He lived in some very lovely part of Long Island, near Huntington, in the aristocratic area.  His neighbor was Henry Stimson, and he was interested in doing environmental work.  [Editor's Note: Henry L. Stimson served as Secretary of War during World War II.]  So, he came to my firm and worked for a year or two, without compensation, and I put him to work on the Vermont Case and he helped us.  The Vermont Case was ultimately settled, after testimony by expert witnesses who were examined by a member of the Attorney General's staff of Vermont, not myself, for different tactical reasons.  Palmer was a very gracious and wonderful person, and his wife.  They had a summer home up in Northeast Harbor, [Maine], near Seal Harbor and Acadia National Park and ... [my] wife and I and one child visited them a few times.  ... He was a great storyteller and one story about him was his friendship with Stimson, who he said, many mornings, would commute from the Huntington Station to New York by riding a horse a mile from his residence to the station, with a servant who would take the horse back, and then, in the evening, come to the station with the horse.  So, he had stories about Henry Stimson.  I had gotten to admire Stimson, though he was a Republican, for his work and service during World War II, ... and [as] one of the saintly figures of the Bar Association. The suit, the original suit, was fascinating and among the proceedings was the argument of a motion by me, on behalf of the state, to amend the complaint, to join to it the operation of a new plant up the lake, which the paper company built which began a good deal before the suit was begun.  ... Involved in the suit, and I think a large part of Jeffords' feeling, was the fact that strong west winds would shake up the water in Ticonderoga Bay and take the scum and drive large quantities of it across the lake to land on the shores of Vermont.  So, the proceedings involved a lot of expert testimony about whether the scum was destructive or harmful, even though, admittedly, it was unsightly, and the proceedings involved the search for expert testimony or information about the levels of the lake, because, if the lake were low, the scum, or more of it, would rise to the surface and be driven to Vermont.  If it were high, [the] lake were high, less of the scum would be driven.  So, we each searched for information about the history of the lake.  Taggart Whipple and his firm turned up a journal of Thomas Jefferson, who I learned took a trip in Upstate New York, I think with James Madison.  Madison invested [in], bought, a large area of land in the area of Utica, New York, in the Mohawk Valley, and I think this trip was with Madison.  ... Jefferson wrote in his journals, a reference to the lake and said, "The water is damp and scummy," or something like that.  Taggart Whipple brought it in [as] evidence and I objected.  ... Cutter listened to Taggart Whipple, then, listened to me, and I argued against it for about ten minutes, hearsay and other things, but the hearsay rule was based on, used on, the probabilities of it not being true, and, in this case, the integrity of the writer of the memoir was Thomas Jefferson. [laughter] So, after about ten minutes, I supposed that Cutter would not let me question the integrity of Thomas Jefferson.  I gave up.  The memo of Jefferson was admitted and I didn't have any evidence which was equal in standing to the words of Thomas Jefferson. At a point during the hearings of the expert witnesses, I told Jeffords, "I think you should consider settlement, because the fair costs of the litigation may be close to or as much or more than the cost of treating the scum," I told him, "If a settlement achieves almost or equal to or more than a pure victory, in the ordinary commercial case, I'd advise you to settle."  I think he took that advice, and there were negotiations and the suit was settled at a time when I wasn't working much on the suit, but two attorneys in Jeffords' office were.  ... They conducted most of the examination and cross-examination of the expert witnesses who were testifying about the effects of the smoke, the air effects, on Lake Champlain and the surrounding area, vast areas of which had colored air and sky for generations, accepted by people before, among other things, vast numbers of professional people became residents of Vermont, that [were] attracted to it because of its natural beauty, including, in the last ten years, Dan Riesel in my office.  He's bought a place, a home, in Vermont. The case was settled, and then, Palmer died, after about three or four years, but he worked in my office without compensation, didn't require any, and wrote a couple of the documents in the suit against the State of New York. The most fascinating aspect of his work was the tales about Stimson, including his horse.  He himself [Palmer] commuted from Huntington, they had an estate out there, but didn't go to the station by horse.  [laughter] That must have been in the '30s and '20s.  He was much older than I and a very lovely and pleasant gentleman.  ... He wrote a book later, the name of which I forget, which dealt with his experiences as an investment banker and in part as a lawyer ... before he became an investment banker, which reminds me of another interesting story.  You tell me if this is too much or gets boring.  ... SI:  Is it about you or is it about Palmer? DS:  It involves me, yes. SI:  Please, go ahead, yes. DS:  In [my] work in the Adirondacks, I became familiar with its history, which involved the most aristocratic families in the US buying the thousands upon thousands of acres for their log structures, in some cases, whole villages, like the Rockefellers' Great Camp in the center of the Adirondacks, just south of Brackett Lake, one of the Rockefellers.  ... One of the important aspects of the growth of the conservation movement, the environment movement before the current environmental movement, was the growth of the concept and the policy of the protection of wilderness.  Much of the environmental aspect was [centered on] wilderness and in the history of the wilderness movement, in large part carried on by the Wilderness Society, whose office is in Washington, [DC].  It was the principal instrument in securing the enactment of the Wilderness Act [of 1964], which was an important part of the environmental movement, in '64, well before the wilderness proponents were a main part of [the] environmental movement.  The Wilderness Act in '64 was in large part the work of the Wilderness Society. The Wilderness Society was founded in '24 [1935] and the main worker in that, the main organizer of it, was a gentleman by the name of Robert Marshall.  Robert Marshall was a saintly member in the wilderness movement.  A large area of Montana, oh, several hundred thousand acres, in the Bitter Root Mountains, is ... the Robert Marshall Wilderness.  [Editor's Note: The Bitter Root Mountains are a range of the Rocky Mountains in the westernmost part of Montana.]  He died at the age of thirty-eight and he was famous among environmentalists and hikers for founding the so-called Forty-Sixers.  Forty Sixers are the group of people that climb all forty-six peaks over four thousand feet of the Adirondacks.  It was followed by a similar organization in the White Mountains [in New Hampshire], I forget the name, and one in the Catskills [in New York], fairly recently, who climb every peak in the Catskills over thirty-five hundred feet, about twenty-two of them.  My wife is one of them.  You must climb four peaks in mid-winter, which is a feat, even though the Catskills aren't as rugged or as cold as the Adirondacks. Robert Marshall was one of three brothers in the family, really, the public notice of which started with a Louis Marshall, [the father of Robert, George and James Marshall].  Louis Marshall was a very successful lawyer at the beginning of the twentieth century.  Among other gifts by him, when he became wealthy, was the money to establish the Jewish Theological Seminary up near Columbia University, very important in the training of liberal, I think, non-Orthodox, Jews, Jews are Orthodox, Reform and Conservative.  There's an old joke somebody recited, that ... he was assimilated [and], when asked, he said, "Well, I put together the Reform, the Orthodox and the Conservative." Reform Jews are, I suppose, the most successful of the three branches.  They consist, in part, of the German Jewish community which emigrated from Germany here after the Revolution of 1848.  Those German families became quite wealthy, successful.  Among other things, a fair number of them became the investment bankers on Wall Street, the Kuhns and Loebs and others. [Louis] Marshall had three sons.  The ownership of a Great Camp in the Adirondacks became a sign of the top aristocracy of the US.  They had their winter homes on Jekyll Island in Georgia, off the coast of Georgia, near Sea Island.  I've said that the wilderness movement and the Wilderness Act are owed to, in part, the anti-Semitism of the Adirondacks.  Now, it is correct that the Adirondacks, a large portion of it, was anti-Semitic.  They wouldn't [have] Jews and probably [not] if your name ended in an "O," and certainly [not] if you were non-white.  I grew up, as a child, with the conviction, the learning, that you don't go to the Adirondacks if you're Jewish.  ... I remember running into questions and problems when I took the first camping trip in the Adirondacks with my brother and my father and others, wondering, "Well, what is the index of the rise into high society?  Nothing more than the ownership of a Great Camp in the Adirondacks."  Louis Marshall, in the early twentieth century, bought about two thousand acres near Saranac Lake and I've thought that, and I think it's correct, that you buy land and a summer home, you do in many other things, to be in the right group of people.  One of the Adirondacks Great Camps, ten thousand acres, is [owned by] the Lehman Family.  That was bought around 1920, I think, and it's a great honor to be invited by the Lehmans to their ... Great Camp.  Each of them has a name.  I forget the name of the Lehman [Great Camp].  Well, Marshall had three sons and they grew up as children in the Adirondacks. Robert Marshall became a hiker and developed a love for the Adirondacks, which is a place of great passion.  I have always thought that, even more than people who love other areas for different reasons, Robert Marshall hiked and climbed all the peaks of the Adirondacks and developed a passion for the Forest Preserve and wilderness and founded the Wilderness Society.  The story of it is [his] writing the organization papers as a member of the Cosmos Club, in Washington, which is a club like the Century Club and the Metropolitan Club in Washington, but which has a special claim to exclusivity, in part bona fide, that it was a club for scholars and people of distinction.  ... If you go into their building, which was a lovely, large, old mansion on Connecticut Avenue, near Dupont Circle, the corridors are filled with books.  ... It really is a scholarly group and it has, among others, great members, [Henry] Kissinger, for instance, and others whose pictures are in there.  I started going there when I went to Washington in so many environmental suits, because, among other things, it rented, provided lodging, small rooms, very pleasant, for twenty dollars a night, was a non-profit, and a member of the club would sponsor me as a guest.  You had to be sponsored and you paid twenty dollars.  Later on, I became a member of it, but Marshall, Robert Marshall, was said, and I think it's correct, to have written and organized the Wilderness Society doing the work in the Cosmos Club, which is a story.  ... The Marshall Family, the three sons are Robert, James and one other; I forget the name.  James Marshall was a partner in the firm of Marshall, Bratter, and others, [Marshall, Bratter, Greene, Allison and Tucker], on Park Avenue.  They were just across the street from our office.  James Marshall, in my childhood, was the head of the City Board of Education, and I remember textbooks of the schools would have the name, "James Marshall, Board of Education."  Marshall, among other things, James, became a member of the Sierra Club and he disliked aspects of David Brower's [the first executive director of the Sierra Club] conduct.  So, he, when Brower became the head, at a certain point, ... decided he wanted to resign from the Sierra Club.  About that time, he and I befriended each other, because of his interest in the Adirondacks, and his office was across the street, across 56th Street, from mine and, in fact, we'd see each other's window.  So, he befriended me and we became friends and he became one of the original and important members of the first board of NRDC.  ... I dissuaded him from resigning from the Sierra Club.  We used to have lunches; we'd talk about a number of things and, for me, it was quite fascinating.  So, I have said, in a lot of places, that a good deal of the impetus for the formation of the Wilderness Society and the Wilderness Act was the anti-Semitism in the Adirondacks, because Louis Marshall wanted to rise above that, as [did] the Lehman who bought the Lehman Estate. Some of the Great Camps were owned by investment bankers, this original German Jewish community, including the Kuhn and Loeb firms, whose family owned a Great Camp of about seven thousand acres on a large private lake in the northeast corner of the Adirondacks, where the principal town features Tupper Lake, a large lake, like Saranac Lake.  Among the members of that family was a wonderful woman who was a member of the Sierra Club, whom I befriended.  I spent one long weekend up at that estate, the Great Camp, and I also spent a few days, in the summer of '67, particularly, when I worked in Albany.  I was writing briefs in the second of the Scenic Hudson proceedings, representing the Adirondack Mountain Club and the Sierra Club and others.  Her name was Susan Reed, who was a wonderful lady.  She had tremendous energy.  She came from the Reed Family, which had a Great Camp in the southern Adirondacks with a private lake, I forget the name of the lake, near Piseco.  Lake Pleasant, at the southern border of the largest of the wilderness areas of the Adirondacks, the center of which is West Canada Lake.  West Canada Lake is an important name and subject in the Adirondack Mountain Club, in part because it's the center of the largest wilderness area, utterly beautiful, where the mountains are about thirty-five hundred feet. Mount Marcy, fifty-three hundred feet and forty-four hundred feet, and West Canada Lake is the midway point of the so-called Northville-Placid Trail.  That's a foot trail of 120 miles, which begins at the southern ... edge of the Adirondacks, near Sacandaga Reservoir in a town called Northville, which is about fifteen or twenty miles north of the Mohawk Valley. The trail goes 120 miles through this largest wilderness area of West Canada Lake and ends close to Lake Placid. ... Hiking the Northville-Placid Trail is, in many respects, like the Appalachian Trail, though it isn't quite as rugged and mountains.  ... A funny experience, my wife and I were hiking for four days and three nights about thirty miles along the Northville-Placid Trail from a point about thirty miles from the beginning of the southern end at the Town of Piseco Lake, the trail above that the trail goes, further northeast to Blue Mountain Lake and Blue Mountain Lake Village.  Blue Mountain Lake Village is one of the most beautiful lakes.  ... Blue Mountain is there and ninety or ninety-five percent of the shore of it, Blue Mountain Lake, is subject to an easement, which is an important instrument used by lawyers, including myself, in preserving land by getting the development rights with an easement and conveying the easement to, among other things, a charitable organization.  I, at one point, for a number of years, owned a four-hundred-acre tract in the Catskills, near the northwest, which consisted, really, of one mountain, the northwestern-most high mountain of the Catskills.  ... When I sold it, ... I gave an easement on the summit of the mountain, forty acres, to the Catskills Center for Conservation and Development.  It is a very important organization in the Catskills, and I worded the easement to prevent the logging of the summit, the forty acres.  ... For that, I remember, I reduced the price of that forty-acre piece, selling the land to the buyer, to half the price of the other acreage.  At the midpoint center of the 130 miles is Blue Mountain Lake, which is very famous for the Adirondack Museum. It is, I think, considered by professionals [to be] the finest of regional museums.  The frontage of the lake is subject to the easement which preserves the lake wild.  It has a lovely conference center, which is especially used by environmentalists and other good-works people.  It is owned by the family by the name of Hochschild.  Hochschild owned virtually all of frontage of Blue Mountain Lake.  One son of his is a very well-known writer of fiction; I forget the first name of the son, Hochschild, [Adam Hochschild]. Ironically, the Hochschild wealth, it's a very wealthy family, comes from the operation of a large mining area in the Rocky Mountains about thirty or forty miles west of Denver, on the road from Denver west.  If you travel along that road, you see a vast area utterly ruined by the mining.  So, I've always thought it ironic that the Hochschild Family, whose wealth comes from that mining created the easement of Blue Mountain Lake and funded ... the Adirondack Museum. When Rockefeller organized the Adirondack Park Agency, he appointed Harold Hochschild as the chair of it, and I would have liked to be a member, but Rockefeller wouldn't appoint Democrats.  He appointed Republicans.  ... Hochschild led the Adirondack Park Agency for the two or three years which it took to render its final report, which recommended the creation of a state agency to govern the Adirondacks.  ... That accomplishment was part of the history of the aristocracy of the Adirondacks.  When my wife and I, about fifteen years ago, hiked about thirty-five miles, the hike was from Piseco Lake to the southern end of Blue Mountain Lake.  A few years preceding that, I got to know Hochschild and would help him and the Agency in its studies of legal aspects of what it could do.  ... Among other things, he invited me, "David, if you're ever at Blue Mountain Lake, ring me and see me."  Well, the last night of the hiking, we got to a camp which was used by auto travelers at Blue Mountain Lake and washed and cleaned ourselves.  The next morning, I phoned Hochschild.  He said, "Dave, come and have dinner with us;" a luncheon.  We went to his luncheon and the day after the last day of the hiking.  There were two servants and fingerbowls.  [laughter] So, from the wilderness to fingerbowls, an interesting thing. The legal aspects of the work, the time spent with the agency, I befriended a lawyer, Henry Diamond.  You may have heard of that name, who was one of two senior partners, of a Washington firm with about a hundred lawyers. Henry Diamond became interested in the environment, as so many others [have], because of a passion for the Adirondacks.  He organized the firm which became one of the first firms practicing environmental law, among other subjects, in Washington.  In the course of the work of the Adirondack Park Agency, I think before that, Diamond became an employee or a lawyer working for the Rockefeller Family.  The Rockefellers have a large office, I think it's the whole of the fifty-sixth floor of one of the buildings of Rockefeller Center, the building which has a nightclub. I forget the name of it, [the Rainbow Room in the GE Building].  ... In the course of events in the '60s, Henry Diamond became what I call the "[Henry] Kissinger of the ... Environmental Movement."  The Rockefellers have a custom of engaging one top person in each field of public policy, education, foreign affairs, environment, and [Henry] Diamond became the star boy of the Rockefeller Family for environment.  So, I befriended him.  He was the opponent of me in ... one important controversy which ... involved the City of Rye, Rye and the Town of Stamford.  Among Rockefeller's great proposed projects was a bridge, the Rye-Oyster Bay Bridge.  It was beaten politically, but, near the end of the three-month controversy, for some reason, the opponents to the bridge, ([it] may have been due to Henry Diamond,) whom I had befriended, engaged me to help bring a lawsuit against the Rye-Oyster Bay Bridge, the principal attorneys for which were the Paul, Wiess firm and a Edward (Costikyan?), a member, he was ... one of the top Democratic leaders in the County of New York, in New York County.  I did a little work near the end, but, Rockefeller lost the political fight, because a number of Republican legislators in the Assembly and the Senate opposed the bridge. Rockefeller had four great projects; he was "the great builder."  One was the Rye-Oyster Bay Bridge, another was a proposal to put a fourth jetport serving New York at Newburgh; one was the Adirondack Park Agency; the fourth was the Hudson River Expressway.  He won only in the matter of the Adirondack Park Agency.  He lost in large part because of the revolt of Westchester legislators against the Rye-Oyster Bay Bridge.  Henry and I developed a close friendship.  Among other things, he, just as a matter of accident, would give the speech before meetings of organizations on the occasion of they're giving annual awards to me.  We became very friendly. Diamond became the first commissioner of the Department of Environmental Conservation, which was created in the early '70s, again in 1970, when a number of states restructured traditional fish and game agencies, [which] was the main activity before the environmental movement, created environmental departments and revised and wholly rewrote the organic law.  New York did so and Henry Diamond became the head of it. At about the same time, I organized the Environmental Planning Lobby, which consisted of a large group of organizations whose work was the lobbying in Albany.  The Environmental Planning Lobby ("EPL") had been created in '68 and there was some legal work I did for it.  It had an original budget of two thousand dollars a year. They were able to engage, as a lobbyist, a gentleman, not a lawyer, who ran a small advertising agency.  He was engaged at the suggestion of Whitney North Seymour, Jr.  Also organizing the EPL was Stewart Ogilvy, a saintly figure.  Among other things, I and my wife named him as the guardian of our children in case we died. In '70, Henry [Diamond] asked me to enlarge and strengthen the activities of the Environmental Planning Lobby and he got Laurance Rockefeller, Jr.,  to contribute eight thousand dollars, although he was a Republican and I am a Democrat.  ... That enabled us to expand the EPL, which joined some of the legal actions and I headed for, oh, the six or eight years beginning in 1970, and Laurance Rockefeller, Jr.,  ... secured the eight or ten thousand dollars, which Henry asked him to contribute to the reorganization of the EPL.  Among the officers of the expanded EPL was a lawyer who didn't practice law, but was the brother of the Governor of New Jersey, who became the head of the 9/11 Commission. SI:  Governor Thomas Kean, [New Jersey Governor from 1982 to 1990]? DS:  Yes, right.  It was Hamilton Kean.  He was a very, oh, wonderful, very great person, and he became, at my behest, a vice-president of EPL.  He was one of the first board members of NRDC.  He lived in Manhattan and I don't think he ever worked for a living, but he, all the time, I think, to this day, has worked full-time for the charities of the Kean Family, ... one of the aristocratic families of Jersey. Hamilton became a member of NRDC and he and I did a lot of work expanding EPL, which is now called Environmental Advocates, which has become the leading lobbying organization for the environment and, now, interestingly, has about four or five of its leaders, ... who's full working time [was] with EPL, lobbying and writing and attending meetings, appointed to fairly high posts by the Governor, who was a good environmentalist.  There's an interesting question as to how the views and work of a person who was a leader of an environmental group should carry on as a government official, when he or she has a broader constituency.  ... When environmentalists see corporate people, high corporate officers, appointed to government posts, we object.  We say, "You shouldn't do that," but there's no objection to these, at least I haven't heard any, yet, environmental figures of EPL, now called Environmental Advocates [being appointed as] fairly high officers in the Environmental Conservation Department.  So, that too is related to environmental law and how it expands by the regulatory activities of the governing department.  The Adirondack Park Agency has largely been staffed by non-environmental organization people and their record was very favorable for environmentalists when [Mario] Cuomo was Governor, [from 1983 until 1994].  ... Then, when [George] Pataki became Governor, it began to be somewhat more liberal in granting permits for developments and permits involved in the governance of the Adirondack lands.  Pataki, though, was a great hiker and he hiked the Adirondacks a lot.  ... He's been responsible for [protecting] large areas of land, several hundred thousand acres, most recently, acreage of the Fitch Pine Lumber Company.  It has been covered by the media. The growth of the division of the rights of ownership of land, of the fee ownership, what lawyers call the full ownership, the fee ownership, certain aspects of the ownership to different entities and more than one person and the growth of the grant of rights to large areas of land, several hundred thousand acres, the grant of the lumbering rights to the Fitch Pine Company, among others, with a proviso that there shall be no clear cutting.  [That] is a very important instrument in the growth of public land and the environmental protection of large areas of land, in large part in the Adirondacks, which would otherwise be threatened by clear cutting and destructive practices, is an important development.  Pataki is mainly credited with that, correctly.  He, by coincidence, has a home near Cold Spring, along the eastern shore of the Hudson, adjoining land and an old large house owned by a charitable organization which is mainly an organization of a Perry Family in Texas, a Robert Perry who has a large ranch of a couple thousand acres in Texas, about eighty miles from the Alamo and close to the hilly lands which are near Austin, and very lovely.  I've been there as a guest.  Perry, by coincidence, was a lawyer who became the head of the litigation section of EPA, when the first Bush was [President].  ... I had the habit and ... practice of inviting, as part of the faculty at the Boulder ALI-ABA meetings, officials, the highest officials I could get, of environmental departments.  I got Perry to come out and we formed a very close friendship and I visited the family "holding," quote, Mandeville [House in Garrison, New York], which is a large, old house close to the Hudson.  He has shown me the slave quarters of it.  He, for many years, hasn't worked, except as administrator or the manager of Mandeville and of the Texas lands, which includes a ranch.  Perry was a lecturer for many years, when the Republicans were in the Presidency, at the Boulder Conference.  One of the lecturers there, too, yes, was the fellow whose name I should recall, who used to be the attorney for [Vice President Dick] Cheney and now is fairly high [up].  I forget his name, but he's now a leading partner in a large Washington firm.  So, he was one of the people whom I would use to staff the faculty at the ALI-ABA programs in the thirty-three years that I conducted them, and, now, [the] chair in organizing it is Dan Riesel of my firm.  ... Quite a few of the people in the firm are lecturers and teachers, ... some in colleges and a couple in law schools.  Dan Riesel took over the course in environmental litigation at Columbia when I retired from it.  I turned it over to him about eight or nine years ago; yes? SI:  Could you tell us more about your role in founding the NRDC and more about what you did with them? DS:  ... NRDC came into existence because the Scenic Hudson Board of Governors or Directors; we had twelve or fifteen people, which several times met in my office in the building at the northwest corner of 42nd Street and Third Avenue, [the] so-called Chrysler Tower East.  ... At one point, Steven Duggan, I think, who had the original idea of the creation of NRDC and got Whitney North Seymour, Jr., a younger partner in the same firm, and myself, one of the board members of Scenic Hudson, to propose [the creation of the NRDC].  We were influenced by the work of the Environmental Defense Fund, which was created about two years before NRDC.  It grew mainly out of the Rachel Carson Silent Spring controversy.  It was created by a lawyer, Victor Yannacone, with an office in Patchogue.  He brought some early suits to enjoin the spraying of DDT in Long Island, Suffolk County.  ... I don't think he was successful in enjoining it, but he secured a grant of ten thousand dollars from the National Audubon Society, the principal working executive of which was a Charles Callison, whom I befriended for many years and was an expert witness for me in the Second Storm King Mountain proceeding, along with David Brower and a couple of others.  At Duggan's behest, it was proposed for Scenic Hudson, at one of its meetings, to go national or beyond simply the Storm King Mountain Controversy.  ... It came up on a motion which was defeated by the conservative members of Scenic Hudson's board, who included some residents on the mountain, in addition to the Duggan Family.  Duggan's wife, who was always called "Smoky," was the daughter of a lawyer who was the donor of a small pond, about ten or fifteen acres, close to the summit of Storm King Mountain, up a thousand feet from the Hudson River.  He donated that pond to the Town of Cornwall-on-Hudson, just south of Newburgh, which includes Storm King Mountain, and the Duggan Family, in part for that reason, because they were residents of the mountain, organized Scenic Hudson, along with members of the New York-New Jersey Trails Association.  I'm not certain of the exact name [the New York-New Jersey Trail Conference], though I worked with them for many years. The Storm King Mountain Controversy started with the work of a lawyer, a Leo Rothschild, who had a small office in the Wall Street area, who was a great hiker, every weekend.  ... I may have mentioned this in the Sierra Club [interview]; when he learned of the proposal to build the pump-storage plant at Storm King Mountain and, as he said, (when he saw an article in the Popular Science Magazine, with a sketch of the mountain, half of which was torn away and a great bridge cable across the river, which the magazine called, "The World's Greatest Wet Cell Battery,") he became angry, wrote a letter to the editor of the Times, and then, together with Duggan and residents, formed Scenic Hudson [in] '63, almost the same time that Silent Spring was published.  The motion for Scenic Hudson to go national was defeated.  I and others tried to get it enacted and Duggan then decided, "I'll form my own organization," and he got Seymour to help him and others, and then, began the work of creating NRDC, an important aspect of which was the financing of it.  Well, Duggan had the connections, among other people, with the Ford Foundation and his work, including meetings with the head or the second-ranking official of the foundation's environmental section, a Ned Ames.  The Ames Family is very important family, also with an aristocratic background, and Ned was the second-ranking land or conservation official for Ford.  Mainly through Duggan, Ford appropriated three hundred thousand dollars to form NRDC.  Part of the formation was a very important meeting of about eighty or a hundred people in Princeton, that place for aristocrats and other people well-to-meet. In '69, I attended that meeting and that secured many of the original members and donors of NRDC and it then [began]; I don't remember exactly at what point the certificate of incorporation was filed, which would be, legally, the beginning of it.  I was the lawyer of the three, the one who had actually been engaged in environmental cases. Whitney North Seymour, Jr., didn't have an environmental practice; he was then the US Attorney in the Southern District.  We created NRDC. Duggan originally got the idea of going to, or maybe he was contacted by, one or more of the Yale students in their last year, permanently got staff who were interested.  I began meeting with them and convincing them that it was a good social objective to be part of the environmental movement and work with NRDC.  I was the head of the Law Committee of NDRC.  Shortly after NRDC was founded, I think at the behest of [President Richard] Nixon, the IRS threatened to oppose the granting of exemption, as a charitable educational organization, of NRDC, on the ground that it isn't a proper charitable activity to litigate.  Litigation was immoral, and there was a tremendous fight and struggle against IRS, which was led by a partner in a very well-known and very highly regarded Washington, DC, tax firm, whose name I don't remember at the moment.  Well, he was important in this opposition to IRS and, about six months after it began, IRS decided [to drop the issue], I think as part of a decision of Nixon, who was responsible for a fair number of good things, the establishing of EPA, the signature of the Clean Air Act, the signature of the National Environmental Policy Act.  He was, in many respects, one of the most important creators of the environmental movement as a matter of politics.  So, NRDC prevailed in the fight with IRS, although it involved some restrictions and conditions of the grant of exemption and deductibility of contributions to a litigating organization.  Among those restrictions was the approval of every litigation, every entry into a litigation, of a committee of lawyers.  ... That committee, I originally headed and remained the head of for quite a few years, I think ten or twelve years.  ... The committee would approve of legal actions which are carried on by the members of the law staff of NRDC, including [Gus] Speth and a David Hawkins, and just utterly brilliant people.  The first litigation of NRDC, I think which I suggested, because they looked to me to lead, at the beginning, the legal work of all of these Yale students, was a lawsuit against the TVA [Tennessee Valley Authority] arising out of the pollution by power plants under the jurisdiction of the TVA, the opposition to which was led by a famous author who wrote a book, the name of which I forget, about the exfoliation of the Tennessee lands by TVA. That was the first legal action of NRDC, and then, they joined, and, in later stages, led, the Storm King Mountain fight, which took the form of several lawsuits after the original licensing suit and after the remanded proceedings in the Second Scenic Hudson Case, [which] the environmentalists lost, in which I represented [them] and was at hearings for several weeks in Washington and wrote briefs in the Summer of '67, in the evenings that I worked in Albany for the constitutional convention.  ... A very important suit was a suit against a power plant in the federal courts by NRDC based upon the killing of huge masses of fish, several thousand fish, who were drawn up into ... the opening at the foot of Storm King Mountain, called the "tailrace."  The operation of a pump storage plant is using electric power to draw water from a large body of water through a pipe to the top of the hill or mountain, and then, send the water down the mountain to the shore of the water body, using that to create electricity, like a power plant.  ... [It] is very desirable from some standpoints, even though a third more power is used in sending the water up, but the power of the pump-storage plant creates "peak power," which means power virtually the instant you want it, like the early evenings of a hot summer day. One of the important aspects of the Second Scenic Hudson litigation, involving many days of hearings before the FPC, was the expert testimony.  ... The Consolidated Edison Company, I'm trying to remember who the lawyers were, it was another large firm with a very fine trial lawyer, the company changed its highest official to a younger person who came out of the projects in the northwest, in the State of Washington.  I remember, [at] the time, he became the president of Consolidated Edison and had a much more liberal view and, in later years, aided the environmentalists.  I'll remember his name.  The suit was a suit brought in as a plenary suit in the district court, NRDC was successful in enjoining the plant because of its suction of fish.  An interesting part of this second proceeding, to me, was the examination, the presentation of the expert witnesses opposing the plant.  Garrison was the leading lawyer and he had the full time of a young person who'd just come out of Harvard before that, an Albert Butzel, who's very well-known, who's a wonderful person.  I befriended him.  I remember when he was engaged, out of Harvard, by Garrison, he came to a meeting of [the] Scenic Hudson Board in my office and he was introduced by Garrison.  He was a young person with wild hair, seemingly, and looking like a beatnik, and I just felt demoralized, because I thought of these conservative people, including a well-known author [Carl Carmer] who had a house in Dobbs Ferry, along the Hudson, a house, a hexagonal house, which has been preserved, the name I forget.  Among his books was a very well-known one and highly regarded one called Listen for a Lonesome Drum.  He was a student and a master of the folk history of New York State, particularly the Mohawk Valley area.  That book was about the Mohawk Valley.  He was one of the conservatives on the board.  I was really discouraged when I saw Butzel, but he just threw himself into it and his whole time was with Scenic Hudson and became a passionate environmentalist.  We became close friends.  He was a young lawyer with Paul, Weiss. NRDC secured the three-hundred-thousand-dollar grant from Ford, and then, at an early point, Duggan, (at Duggan's insistence?), was to retain the head of a top mail order house in the city, which carried on mail order campaigns for NRDC and helped in the early financing. NRDC gradually expanded its scientific staff and administrative officials and its writers and its lawyers, it has now over a million members, although, interestingly enough, the members don't have the power of the membership of many organizations where the members elect the governing board.  [The] governing board of NRDC is self-perpetuating.  It nominates and appoints members of the board as vacancies occur.  Its membership, the board membership, at a certain point, ... early after the formation, I think at Duggan's instigation, it retained, added to the members of the board, a Native American, an Indian group out in New Mexico, and I think, later on, the first non-white people.  ... It's been very effective and very careful, even though it isn't as democratic, in a sense, as the National Audubon Society, where the membership really elects the governing board.  Among other aspects of NRDC, it was interesting, and I may have mentioned this with the Sierra Club, was a decision by Garrison, and myself and Al Butzel, to give me the responsibility, on the second go-around with FPC, the trial, to concentrate on the beauty issue.  The beauty issue is the issue as to, "How beautiful is Storm King Mountain and how do you define beauty?"  I engaged [David] Brower and Charles Callison and a couple others as my witnesses.  ... The procedure at the FPC, with its trial, is what would be the direct examination orally in court is written testimony, and the lawyers, with the witness, write the testimony and the witness is asked one question, "Do you adopt the testimony in the written statement," exhibit four, five or six? and they answered, "Yes."  "Your witness."  The cross-examination begins.  That's the procedure of FPC, and a number of other agencies.  Well, in the [trial], I cross-examined one of the leading witnesses for Con Ed, who was the topmost, or one of the topmost, people in highway construction, very well-known, and he would handle the landscaping of interstate roads, among other things.  He was engaged by the power company to testify about the effects of the power plant and, among other things, he testified that the walls surrounding the 250-acre lake to be created by the plant, by expanding the fifteen-acre lake originally given to the ... Town of Cornwall, and use that lake as a pumped-storage plant ... to open the gate and send the water down, ... among part of the examination of him by me, cross-examination, was to get him to admit, "Well, isn't that really flushing it down?" and he said, "Yes," and I said, "Like a toilet."  ... I think it was evasive, but it was just a show, although there wasn't a jury, but it's one of the amusing parts of the cross-examination.  ... That experience became part of lectures in classes at the law schools and at the CLE programs in Boulder, where I always, every time, headed three or four lawyers who presented aspects of litigation, including law concerning the scope of the examination of administrative agencies in judicial proceedings, the scope of which grew as a matter of general administrative law out of the environmental cases.  Of course, in some cases, environmentalists argue for narrowing the scope, such as in the suits which may be brought, a number have been brought, by this corporate organization, the executive director of which writes occasional ... articles in the op-ed page of the Times.  One was two or three years ago, really castigating universities and families of great wealth.  He said, "It's immoral when they don't supervise the work of charitable organizations which get their wealth, and then, carry on," what to me is good works, "environmental and civil liberties suits," I suppose the primary one is the Ford Foundation, that has a liberal history.  It granted three hundred thousand dollars for the formation of NRDC and I think two hundred thousand to help create the Environmental Law Institute, which became the first publisher of environmental works and scholarly works, the board of which I chaired for the first ten or twelve years.  ... The scope of the review of administrative action is something where you have different views depending on whether the good guys or bad guys want it to be narrow or broad, but that's lawyers.  You become the advocate of your client, even though another advocate may contradict that, and that always gets interesting comments by non-lawyers, and with some justification and understanding, and that's involved in some criticism of Giuliani now.  It's a continuing problem for lawyers. SI:  Let us take a break for a minute. DS:  Yes, right, okay. [TAPE PAUSED] SI:  This concludes our series of interviews with Mr. David Sive.  I want to thank you for all your time.  DS:  Oh, I thank you. SI:  It has been very gracious of you to give us so much, not just today, but also during the first two sessions. Thank you very much. DS:  Well, thank you, good. -----------------------------------------------END OF INTERVIEW----------------------------------------- Reviewed by Steven Ng 4/21/10 Reviewed by Mary Joyce Poblete 4/21/10 Reviewed by Jon Pagtakhan 4/21/10 Reviewed by Joseph Dalessio 4/21/10 Reviewed by Dion Fisco 4/21/10 Reviewed by Steven Wacker 4/21/10 Reviewed by Oscarina Melo 4/21/10 Reviewed by Shaun Illingworth 7/2/10 Reviewed by David Sive 4/13/11

Adams, Thomas

Kurt Piehler: This begins an interview with Mr. Thomas T. Adams, on May 18, 1997, at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey with Kurt Piehler ... Jennifer Lenkiewicz: And Jennifer Lenkiewicz. I'd like to start out with a little history of your parents. Where was your father born? Thomas Adams: My father was born in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. His parents moved out there on a homesteading basis, and he was born at 1876. I believe that his father's brothers and he decided that's what they wanted to do. But when they were out there, it came just at the time of a three-year drought. So they gave up and went back to Brooklyn, New York. But there's still a tie between my grandfather and his brothers out in Iowa, because we picked up a letter that he'd written to his wife from Chicago. Apparently, he took the two boys with him to go back to the farm and my grandmother kept the daughter there. He wrote this letter saying, in brief, "I'm sorry, I can't leave you. I'll bring the boys back. I'm coming home, I'll come back to Brooklyn." And the only other thing that I really know about him comes from a picture that shows him in front of a Singer sewing machine store. He and the man that he was working with were standing out in front of the store. JL: Now, he went to high school ... TA: No. No, he didn't. His father died when he was relatively young. So, what I understand was, the very first job he had as a teenager, a young teenager, was to take up an apprenticeship with a pharmacist. He worked with him for several years, so he learned all about pharmacology. He was a very intelligent man. He soaked his head up, with all these things, about the drugs, the combinations, what's good for what and so on. And also, he became quite an expert as a soda-jerker. My parents were married approximately '93 or '94, I believe, something like that. I remember hearing that he developed typhoid fever, and, of course, at that time, it was a very deadly thing. But he recovered but was very weakened by it. So, I remember hearing as a child, that Pa had gone to work for Abraham and Strauss Company to develop himself delivering furniture. He wasn't a very big man, but he never lost the knack for handling heavy things. He knew exactly how to do it. Subsequently, sometime, I'm not sure when, he went to work for a title insurance company in Brooklyn. His job was to verify the locations of properties, to verify the title, and they trusted him fully on that. He got very intimate with the streets in Brooklyn and he knew where everything was. So, he'd identify it, then he'd come back to his office and he'd prepare a sketch on a desk. I remember him taking me there as a child and sketching it out to make a record of it. So, then, apparently what happened, was his brother married a family that had lived in Towaco, New Jersey, and they'd gone out there for the summers. It was about twenty-five miles from New York. At that time, the town was really more of a summer place to go live, where people would have houses out there for the summer and then go back to the city to live for the winter. So anyway, Pa went out there with his brother and they decided to stay in Towaco. So they each built houses in Towaco and that's when I and all my other three older siblings were born in Towaco. My older brother was born in Brooklyn, you see, before they came out. So that's what I remember about Pa. He was always a very jovial, comfortable person to be with. He'd let me watch him shave, for example. I can remember standing in the bathroom with him, dropping his razor and so on. He was always very kind to me, he never got impatient with me. I can't ever remember his threatening me with his razor belt or anything like that. I have very fond [memories] of my father. He lived to be eighty-one and he always came to see me, even after we were married with the children, to visit us. He helped me paint once, our first house. My older brother didn't get along well with Pa at all. They just didn't harmonize. So I think the contrast was probably between my brother and me. KP: Why didn't they harmonize? Your father seems absolutely delightful. Was it your brother or just ... TA: No, no. It was just a matter of the kinds of people they were? I remember my older brother, for example, protesting the fact that Pa had squirted grape juice on him, when he was getting the grapefruit out of the, out to eat, you know? I can remember that, for example. And he was so impatient with Pa. But I never had that kind of reaction. And I remember my brother objecting, next older brother, objecting about Pa using so much vinegar on his food. And I always felt, well, if Pa wants vinegar, then why can't he have vinegar? Vinegar didn't bother me. And I like vinegar myself. I still put it on some things, like greens for example, although my wife doesn't quite understand that. She came from a different family. JL: Your mother, what was she ... TA: She was born in Brooklyn and her parents emigrated from Ireland during the potato famine. They were a Catholic family. I've heard about them, from my mother, that he, her father was a cabinetmaker, a very skilled cabinetmaker, and her mother was a very skilled dressmaker. She had a shop and she employed women to work for her in Brooklyn. And that's about all I know about the situation, because Ma's father, parents, were Catholic, and the Catholics had the attitude at that time that, "You're out of the family if you marry outside the Church," 'cause Pa refused to join the church. But that didn't bother Ma. She, they joined the Episcopal Church, and that's the kind of church they always went to. JL: So your mother converted after she met your father? TA: Yes, that's right. That's right. She joined the Episcopal Church. JL: Do you know how your parents met? TA: Beg your pardon? JL: Do you know how your parents met each other? TA: How did they get along together, you mean? Well, is that what you mean? JL: Well, how they met. TA: Oh, how they met. I don't really know, frankly. Ma talked to me about other men that she had met, you see. But Pa was a very handsome man, and he always dressed well, and he was probably charmed by Ma when they met. And I think that she married when she was about twenty or twenty-one or twenty-two perhaps. She had gone a little further in schooling in Catholic parochial school, and she never told me anything about employment that she had. Nothing like that, so I don't really know. And we never heard anymore from her family, except her sister used to write her, I remember, pleading with her to come back to the Church and that always upset Ma. I heard her say, "I don't see why she does this. I can't understand why she can't leave me alone." So I don't know anything about her family, except that's the way it was, and she didn't seem to be bothered by it. She had her own family and she loved the children and Pa and so on and got along fine. JL: Do you know if your mother lived in any of the ethnic areas, or any predominantly Catholic ... TA: They stayed in Brooklyn. They were all Brooklyn families, and that was a fine place to live at that time. KP: I grew up in Morris County also, and ... TA: Did you? KP: My parents move from Queens when I was about seven, and actually, I'm not too far from Towaco and Lake Hopatcong. I'd like to hear some of your memories of what it was like to grow up in Towaco. TA: What was Towaco like? KP: Yes. TA: I loved Towaco. We had, Pa's house, where he built the house, was on a rise overlooking the valley of Towaco, and there was the Delaware-Lackawanna Railroad train went right through it. And at the time he built his house, there was a canal, the Morris-Essex canal, I think it was. The canal was not in use, from my memory, and I think, as I understood, they took coal, primarily from Scranton and took it into Jersey City. But I remember they left a tow path there, along the canal. It was always a feature that I loved. You could get out there and run like a deer. You know, straight on that, a good path and everything, along the Morris Canal, and I think it was one of the things that attracted Pa to that place. You know, water always attracts people. It attracts me, too. Of course, about Towaco, it was very rural, primarily, at that time. There were some families that had houses, isolated places like we did and, so, it was a mixed community of farmers and people that worked in New York, like my father did. And it was just perfectly natural for me to think that, well, "Pa goes to New York, I'll go to New York." That's the center of everything. So, I always thought, if I'd get a job, I'd go to New York and get a job. You see, that was always the locus for it. And my cousin, for example, who's just a month or so older than I am, often said that when we visit her, "Weren't we fortunate to grow up in Towaco?" And you could go out, as a child, I can remember going out and picking wild strawberries, for example. Picking black caps, and I always admired the freight trains when they went through. You could count the cars, you can see where they come from. And we'd always go to the station to meet Pa and walk home with him, or when my sister got her car, we'd go pick him up and bring him home. The station brought in freight to the community, too. We'd go down to play in the freight cars there that brought in the grain and things like that into the community. So the railroad would come by in the night and blow for the crossings, as they used to do, and I found when I went away, when I came to Rutgers, I'd come home and I'd feel comfortable to hear that sound again in the night. It was a real symbol of home. But it's changed so much now. There's nothing there at all, really. KP: Towaco is, compared to a lot of Morris County, is still somewhat more rural, let's say, like the Lake Hopatcong area, or where I grew up around Morristown. TA: Yes. You understand that. KP: So you were used to your father being a commuter? TA: Yup, that's what he did. He always played, I remember, he played pinochle with his friends on the way out, and on the paper, the ritual was to pick up the paper at the station and read it on the train. And that had great appeal for me, you know? You could get the paper read all in the morning. I remember, about the train myself, I worked for year before I, after high school, before I came to Rutgers, and I got a job at the Irving Trust Company in New York at 1 Wall Street. And that was a thing to do, you know? Go get a job. And I read an ad in the paper, in the New York Herald Tribune, which was the paper of home, went into this employment agency and that's how I got a job. So that's about Towaco and all the connections. KP: You listed in your pre-interview survey that your mother was a housewife but she was also a volunteer librarian. Can you talk a little about her? TA: I'll talk about that. My mother was wonderful person. And I remember being fascinated by the fact that she never had to look up a telephone number. She knew all the numbers that she wanted to call. I don't know how she became attracted to the library but she felt, both my parents felt, that books were important and, for example, we had The Book of Knowledge, the encyclopedia series in the house, and as a child, I read that, every one. I just felt that was something that attracted me. It was a wonderful thing. But I remember about the library, I have a vague memory of the library being on our front porch. There was a fire in the building where it was, downtown, but the firemen saved the books. I don't know, Ma said, probably, "I'll take them." And I remember people coming, we had a separate door to get into the porch, where it was, and I remember people coming in the door to get into the house. They didn't come in the kitchen door, they didn't come in the front door, they came in the porch door. So that's what I remember about that library and I have a vague memory of the books on the shelves. But then over time, the Building and Loan Society built a building downtown, and part of the building was for the Building and Loan Society and the other part was for the library. And so, I can remember, every time my Ma was down there, for two afternoons a week, I'd go after school into the library. And I knew that there was lady who drove a van around the county and she was the county librarian. And I'd always know when she was coming and she'd always let me know the new books, what's coming. So I'd always get those new books, I'd always have first crack at them. Well, then, over time, a young lady that lived in the town was employed, so Ma just moved down on occasion there as a volunteer. Now, I don't know exactly how Ma got into being the newspaper correspondent, but she did. She was a correspondent for the Newark Evening News, The Saturday Morning Call, I think it was, and the Boonton Times Bulletin. And she collected the news and wrote it up, all by hand, at that time. So, I know it was always important to get the letter in the mail, you know, on-time, and I remember being so upset with myself for not getting home one afternoon in time to take the letter to the post office. Ma didn't berate me for it, but I knew she was disappointed, that I didn't get there to get that down to the station. The only time that happened, only once. And then when I was a child in high school, I think I must have been about thirteen or fourteen, Ma developed this very debilitating disease. The A.L.S. that you're probably familiar with. And so I heard about it and understood that it is terminal, but we didn't know how long Ma would be with us. But it was evident that somebody had to do something about this corresponding business, so I decided to take a typing class in high school and my brother brought a typewriter and I would type it up, and over time, initially, Ma would make the telephone calls to collect things, but later on when she couldn't get to the phones and so on, I would make a few calls. And, of course, we all knew what was going on and do that. I don't know exactly how long she kept up. I think she kept up the corresponding relationship with the Boonton Times Bulletin the longest. Because I don't remember being involved with the other papers when I was doing that. And I didn't mind that all. It was fun, you see. Most of the people knew me very well, because, when I was a child, I'd go to their houses to visit and sit down and talk and so on. KP: What kind of things would go in the articles? What would be a typical story? TA: The stories? The best story of all was to get a wedding story. A lot of detail in that. That's right. The bride wore this, who came to the wedding and so on, like that. And the other stories were [of] people who were visiting, brother and sister would come from Scranton, Pennsylvania or someplace like that, and they were visiting. So we got the full names, we'd have to get [them] very carefully spelled, make sure we had [them] all right, and get that, and those were the kinds of stories. Of course the local events, like the meetings of the Ladies Aid Society or the St. Mary's Guild of the Episcopal Church or what else was going on, who'd been appointed in the school type of thing, I can remember very well. And Ma was also keenly interested in politics. She felt that was a proper thing to do. And she became the county committeewoman for the Republican Party, which was really a pretty significant thing. I remember, she had to be consulted before they could hire the postmaster in the town. And, if some day, if the postmaster was not doing something right, then her friends would say, "Bess, he's not doing this right. And he's got some filthy magazines in there or something," you know? So it was up to her to get it straightened out. And she did. I remember her also, the way our family operated, we all sat around the dining room table for the meals. We all got together for regular meals. Breakfast was kind of a chaotic thing, but every dinner we'd get together. Ma would expect us to be there. We would get home on the six-eighteen train and Ma would have dinner ready, and then we'd sit down to dinner around six-thirty, or six forty-five. And about Ma, one of the family stories that we always remembered, we all had tea, so, with the five of us there, there were seven cups, and we had this great, big table and Ma would put out the cups by the teapot and have the sugar bowl there and, of course, she loved to talk, so she'd be talking anxiously about how she was upset with this person or something like that, political, and he didn't do what he said he was going to do, that type of thing, and that upset her very much. She was talking away, one time, and she poured the tea into the sugar bowl. My brother, we always remember that whenever we got together. "Remember the time Ma poured the tea in the sugar bowl?" That's a little family thing that I remember. And I can remember, we didn't have a high chair, but I sat on the Books of Knowledge and the telephone book, stacked up. And over time, the numbers required were reduced. Well, my older brother was nineteen years older than I, and I remember he married and he lived in the town and he went into New York to work. And my older sister became a teacher, and she lived at home until she married, but she didn't live in the town. They lived nearby. I think it was in Livingston, New Jersey. My next older sister, she was killed. One time, I remember this so well, I was twelve at the time, and she and my older sister had gone out for ride. Grace had a convertible, and it was a nice thing to do, you could put down the top and just go out for a ride. And someone rammed them from the side, through, running a traffic light. And the story was, I wasn't told right away, that night, I was, all I knew was, that I was at the house of a boy that lived next-door. We often did that, I often went over there, and I knew that, I was told, that, "Your mother has called and asked if you could stay over here all night." And then, of course, I didn't really hear about what happened until the next day. I went home. And of course, that was a very traumatic thing for the family. She was a senior in high school, lovely girl and very popular. And all we knew was, I can remember, they brought a sealed casket home for the funeral and then we got peach blossoms. I remember those things about the service. Some people put a connection between that tragedy and my mothers ailment, but the doctors would say "No, that wasn't what happened." But some people really believed Ma was so upset about that, and that's what it did, you see? I remember hearing that from people, even recently, from one of my cousins. So that's a little bit more about the family. KP: In some ways, having grown up in Morris County, it's not surprising that your parents were Republican, just because Morris County was Republican and it's still very faithful. TA: It is. KP: What did your parents think of Roosevelt? There were these degrees of Republican feelings towards him. TA: Well, of course, they were very upset with Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt. I remember Pa, greatly objecting to Social Security, for taking money out of his paycheck. "For whom? For what?" You know? And I can remember, I thought the year of this was, it must have been in 1932, I was a pretty precocious child, and I remember I could make a contribution to the cause, of the anti-Democratic. So what I did was, I bought a can of black paint, and I got one of Pa's brushes, and I climbed up on a big sign they had on the way to Boonton, along 202 there, of Roosevelt and Garner, at that time. And so I got on that sign and I painted in broad black letters, "To Hell with them." That was the best thing I could think of. It wasn't a very nice thing to do. Nobody did anything about it. I didn't tell anybody that I did it, but a lot of people knew. Well, that's the way it was. I was biased to the Republican Party, in part, because of that. But thinking back, I think Roosevelt was the man of the time, for that period. I wouldn't do that now, I mean I wouldn't do it that way. I realize that's not socially acceptable behavior. KP: That's a really great story to gauge your parents partisanship, because some parents were Republican but they really loved Roosevelt. But it sounds like you were a partisan Republican. TA: Of course, I read that. Pa would bring home the paper, and we read the New York Herald Tribune. I'd read the columnist and so on. They had, Mark Sullivan was one, and they were objectively critical. They weren't biased like some of the people were, but they didn't like some of the things that he did and they'd give you good reasons why, you know, "This is not proper under our form of government," or something like that. In other words, it made sense to me, and I think, indeed, thinking now that was not illogical that that should be the case. KP: The Herald Tribune was great paper. I've read some of the back issues. It really was a fabulous paper. JL: Did your family benefit for many of the programs Roosevelt implemented? TA: No. We got no benefits of any kind. KP: How did your father feel about Roosevelt, once he started collecting Social Security? TA: I don't remember. I remember Pa did collect Social Security, and the companies didn't have pension programs, and he wasn't a wealthy man, but he was sustained by his Social Security. And, I remember, my older brother lived in the town and he was looking after Pa, that was his filial duty, and he always kept us posted on was happening. And when Pa couldn't live alone anymore, he went to live with a lady, Mrs. (Mckee), who I remember. Mrs. (McKee) was a widow and she came to our house to do some ironing for Ma and that type of thing. A very fine lady. I remember her children, and we knew them well, and I remember the last time I saw Pa. He was seated on Mrs. McKee's porch on a rocking chair and obviously in good shape and well-cared for. But he was a smoker and he smoked cigarettes, he smoked pipes and so on. I never took the cigarettes, but a pipe was something I felt was for me. I should do it when I got to be out of college. Of course, I never smoked when I was in college. That turned out to be the cause of my father's death, was lung cancer. And his mother, I remember, lived a long time, my grandmother. She lived in the town and, I remember, she died in her nineties, and his brother didn't live very long, but he was a different physique, and his sister died in the typhoid epidemic time, but they said it was because [of] some traumatic infection after her youngest child was born. They couldn't cope with it. That's pretty much what I remember about that family. Except I do remember, that, apparently Ma was highly regarded by a cousin, who had owned a furniture store in Brooklyn. And I remember Ma getting a bequest. So things happened. We got a new car. We fixed up the house and so on, and that type of thing, that I remember. And that was just about, must have been in the early '30s when that happened, and then afterwards, of course, the Depression time. I remember Pa coming home from work and reporting that his salary had been cut by ten percent. So that was traumatic for the whole family. "What can we do? How can we pay the mortgage? How do we feed the children?" and so on, all these things. And he subsequently came home and had to say that he got a fifteen percent cut. And I remember we heard all about this type of thing. We weren't sheltered children. It was all open, excepting all the intimate things between my mother and her husband. We didn't hear anything about that. Anything to do with the family was common knowledge and it seemed the proper thing to do. Now, my wife, Virginia, says her family wasn't like that all. KP: Some children never knew their parents. TA: That's right. She never knew her father lost his job during the Depression. She never knew why, she never heard anything about that. And apparently, he was an accountant, so he could get some occasional work. But she does remember that there wasn't any money and she couldn't get new shoes and things like that. She remembers about that, but it didn't change much for her, in the way the family lived or what they did. And I remember that contrast, you know, and that connection. KP: How did the Great Depression affect Towaco? How did your neighbors fare? TA: Well, I remember the town, a little bit more about Towaco. I remember we always had parades. And when I was old enough to get in the parade as a Boy Scout, I went to the parade. Pa bought me a fife so I could be in the parade. I could never play it properly, but Pa wanted to see me properly equipped. And I remember a fellow up the street that lived near by us was a Italian fellow, his last name was Garcia, and he came, I remember his coming and asking Pa, "Would you contribute to the celebration this year?" And Pa would give him ten dollars, and that was the routine every year. And then the parade would go up to a nearby field, up along 202, and we would go up there and watch the fireworks. And then afterwards, my brother, older brother and I, really, he was with me a lot, I remember as a child, I was his friend, although he was seven years older than I, and he taught me a lot. He taught me about, he was interested in trees and forestry and so on. It's never left me. I can remember I wanted to be a forester. That's why I came to Rutgers and so on, that type of thing. And I remember building a, there was a heavy snow storm, for example. My brother and I went out into the woods and we built a sort of lean-to, with the boughs down there. And we cut the snow and we'd put snow blocks on it. And I can remember that so clearly. And there was a family that bought the lot next-door. The Glovers. Claude and Grace Glover. And they didn't have any children and, of course, they were very, they liked to have me around, you see? That's the way it was. I remember Mr. Glover would bring me things home, sometime. I remember him bringing home red bananas from Washington Market, New York, though I never knew anything about red bananas. I remember the Glovers would always take a Sunday drive and they'd go out to northern New Jersey where there are lot of rocks and they were bringing home rocks from different places. So when I heard the car come in over there, I would go over and find out, "Where did he get the rocks from?" Well, they got it up at High Point, they got it up at Sparta, someplace like [that], and they made a drive out of all these, along the drive, along the walk behind the house. And I remember their house being built. Their house was a Sears house. KP: Custom made... TA: Yeah. They'd come in on a freight train and they'd get the carpenters to come out and put it together, although Claude himself did a lot of the work. And I could go over and watch him work, too. But then I remember, that there was a man that Pa bought the property from next to us. He had a big house, our house wasn't very big. It was on the different, it was down the hill from the Russell house, by example. I remember Pa renting a garage from him, before we had a garage for our car. The first car we had, incidentally, which I also remember clearly, was a Model T. It was a 1924 Model T. A black sedan, and Pa was so fond of it, that was Pa's car. And Pa also, I came to realize that the Masonic organization was very important to Pa. Pa always went to Masons, he was always interested in that. A Mason, I remember, a grocery man came to town and he didn't really know how to do things. Pa was very handy. He knew everything about how to run a store and that type of thing. And I remember Pa telling this fella, "Put those cereal boxes up on the top shelf, you see. Like that. And this is the way you snap a string when you wrap up a bundle." And I remember, I'd go down, Pa would say, "Would you like to go down with me?" So, "Sure." I'd go along and sit on the bread box there, and just watch him do that. And he was very gifted that way. I can remember, he was also good at masonry. He did good, smooth work when everything was done. I remember his working in the cellar to chip out the rocks to give us more space in the cellar, and I'd hear him chipping away down there. And he had a nice, little, a small sledgehammer that he could [use]. And that always, that impressed me very much. KP: When you went to high school, Boonton was a very big town. It still has a thriving downtown, but then, it was very industrial ... TA: Yes, it was. KP: It still has some industry, but even more so then. Could you maybe talk more about Boonton, and Towaco's relationship with Boonton. TA: Well, I can remember Boonton. Boonton was where they had the lumber yard and we had to get the lumber from the lumber yard. Pa wanted to buy cement, had to go up to the Solmon's. Some people said Samons, but we always called its Solmon's. And I remember, for that, for example. And there was a movie, of course. There was also a Woolworth's store. And so, Boonton was much the center of that type of thing. And the paper, the bank, we always had to go to Boonton. The doctor, for example, the dentist. We always had go to Boonton. It was only four and a half miles away and I'd walk to Boonton. It was no big deal, you know. And this bus, you could take, I think it was five cents or something like that, that ran, if you got the bus, you could do it that way. And of course, we went to high school in Boonton. All the children went to Boonton High School, so that's where I went to high school, and that was much the object of things. Everybody went to Boonton High School. When you got to high school, but you were no longer a kid. I was really not a very good boy in school. I remember, I was always the, I don't want to boast, but I was always the brightest kid the class. That wasn't good really. I remember the teacher putting me in the corner so I wouldn't make so much fuss and that type of thing. KP: Because it's interesting, one of the things I was surprised at, is that you were reading The Herald Tribune growing up. A lot of people confessed that they never read the paper except for the Targum, whereas you were really reading the paper. TA: That's right. Exactly. I always knew what was going on. I'm still an avid reader of good newspapers. Conventional press disgusted me. I don't really pay any attention to it. I read some of it, but the rest of the paper I don't pay any attention to. I currently read the Monitor. KP: Christian Science Monitor? TA: Christian Science Monitor, yes. You know, [it] is an outstanding paper. And I also get a weekly of articles from the Washington Post that I read, but I don't have enough time to read it all. For example, on this trip, I brought four or five issues, back issues of the Monitor with me so I can read them and that's what happens. So it's, as you said, it's the matter of getting reading, reading, reading, and I wish the children did that. All our children were readers. They all read. They all love classical music like we do. You know, that they've heard it. And not each of them has been a model child, as far as behavior is concerned, but they were all readers and if you give them a book, that's the thing you do. So that's part of it. Even some of their children do, but not all of them, in that respect. JL: When you weren't high school were you involved in any college ... TA: Yes, well, when I went to high school I had, I really didn't feel that I was really at home, as a child, at high school, when I first went there. I liked the teachers. I learned a lot from some of them after the first year or two. I learned ... -------------------------------------END OF SIDE ONE, TAPE ONE-------------------------------------- TA: ... to study. The other thing is history, I loved, for example. English was great, you know, and all those things. There was no problem. But when you get behind in Latin, you're sunk, you know? You can't go back and learn everything. And, as Virginia says, I can remember more of my Latin than she does, you know, as far as quoting Latin. And I learned a lot. The teacher was a good teacher. And also, I had a speech problem that I was embarrassed [of] when I was called on. Pa had a speech impediment that might have been related to that, I don't know. I was always embarrassed when I was called on. I hated to be the valedictorian who had to talk for graduation. I did it because I had to do it, but I was very uncomfortable with it. And of course, with the foreign language, they call on you, you stand up and read, you see, and that's good stuff. But that was always an embarrassment for me. That's probably part of the problem. But when they had a question in history, I didn't mind talking about that at all, you see. It was great. I loved history. We had two history courses, let's see, Ancient History, Modern European history, three history courses, American history. [They were] deeply into history. And I didn't mind English. I liked English. It was reading, and I didn't mind writing and that was no problem, and I got into the sciences, I loved them. Biology, chemistry, physics and so on, and I got along well in those, but it was this Latin thing that bugged me up and I failed the second year. So anyway, after that I buckled down and I got good grades all the time after that. KP: You became valedictorian of your high school? TA: No I'd didn't get that far. Some guy, he worked harder than I had. His name was Joe Ignatsic But I remember getting elected to the National Honor Society, and I couldn't figure out why because I failed Latin, you see? But that's the way it was. And, of course, we had wonderful teachers, who I remember still very clearly, they're very clearly identified and what we did. I remember the freshmen English teacher once telling me, "Do you think you're Tom Sawyer?" She told me that once, and I didn't know whether that was a compliment or not. It didn't sound very good to me because of my behavior. She was trying shake me up a little bit. She was good teacher and I didn't resent it particularly. I respected her. My French teacher, that both my wife and I had, in high school, we didn't think much of. She was, Madame Sawyer we called her, and she didn't know a hoot about how to pronounce French. She was bright enough and she could understand it, but she didn't know anything about how to pronounce it. But a little more about high school, if you'd like to hear that? KP: Yes, please. Where did you meet your wife? Did you meet her in high school? TA: I'll tell you about that. KP: Because you had the same French teacher. TA: When we were in high school, of course, the children came from around there, and a group of children came from Mountain Lakes, ... and people came from Lincoln Park to high school, and, of course, all of Montville Township, people came to the high school, by bus. So I can remember sophomore year, when I was in high school, I remember these children coming from Mountain Lakes. There were twelve or thirteen of them. I had friends from Towaco in high school, but these were different and, of course, they'd grown up differently and they're all well dressed and they all had experience with things that we hadn't had. And I remember the girls particularly. They're very interesting to me, but I didn't feel like I was confident to make any overtures. But I can remember my wife very clearly, when she came, but I remember her looking at me, you know? I guess girls do. Do girls still do that? KP: You should see my interns. TA: I can remember sitting in the hallway in high school eating lunch, at the students desk we had there. Incidentally, Ma always made good sandwiches. My favorite was grated cheese, and that was a never-fail favorite, as far as I was concerned. So I was sitting there, eating my lunch, and I remember her sister had to come to the high school to take some kind of a course, I don't know whether it was Home Economics or something like that. It was taught at the high school and her sister was younger than Virginia, I don't know how much younger, four years or so younger, possibly, but I can remember her sister walking down the hall, looking at me. And she looked a lot like Virginia, so I knew that she was Virginia's sister. So I can remember that, you see. But I didn't invite Virginia to the senior prom, I asked a girl that I knew in town, from Towaco, Gay Crosby, and she wasn't much interested in me, she wanted to go to the dances. But we got along, it was a good thing. But another girl from my town, whose name was Esme Kirkwood, was a good student. She was always one behind me in the class, but she didn't seem to resent it very much. That was just the way it was. So I saw a lot of her. We'd go skating together, we'd go skiing together, that type of thing. But I was never very much interested in Esme. She didn't have very much physical attraction for me. But Virginia was different. She was a lady. She was very well polished and so on. Very informed about things. She was in the classes with me and I knew that she was a very good student. Virginia had her friends, of course, and I had my friends, and what happened was, she came down to a skating party in Mountain Lakes. Her friends invited her to the skating party. Her father had taken a job in Connecticut, Middletown, Connecticut, and so her friend invited Virginia and she invited me, too. KP: So she knew there was some sort of interest? TA: That's right. She knew all about this, you see. So that skating party, I wasn't interested in any other girl. I'd come here and I'd have dates at the Coop and so on, and I found one girl, in particular, we went roller skating and I thought, "Boy, she's a good girl I'd like to see her again," and so on. But then after that, that was my freshman year, it was in the winter, nobody else, no more dates, you know. I just didn't bother. They didn't interest me. So we became very fond of each other. And we exchanged letters, daily letters, until we got married. JL: You got married right before you graduated? TA: That's right, just a week before we graduated and, of course, that letter was the big thing in the day. Get the letter, give the letter to the postman. And my wife tells me, I still didn't spell some of the words right in the letter, but she felt the same way, you know? And, so, we saw a lot of each other while I was in college. I'd go up there, she'd come down for dances and so on. It was a big thing, and there was no question. Her family adopted me as Virginia's beau and they were very warm to me. I was very greatly impressed with her family. They were very cordial and genuinely, you know, adopted me. I can feel that. KP: There was a really interesting mix of the Boonton high school at the time. Those areas have become much more uniformly middle-class. Boonton was a very industrial town, Towaco was very rural community, Mountain Lakes was very well-to-do. How did all those groups get along together? TA: Well, we got together fine. It wasn't the question of how much money our families had, it was a question of, were you good student, could you conduct yourself properly, were you a gentleman or a lady and so on, and the other kids, we didn't have any time for. But Esme Kirkwood for example, she was one of us, and another girl from Lincoln Park, Barbara Loeffer, she's a very close friend, and Esme was a close friend until she died, unfortunately, a long time ago. And there was very much of a (piece?). The boys from Boonton, there were some boys from Boonton that were part of the group. One fellow named Andy Sabol who played the organ. He played the organ in the church and was very gifted fella. Another fella from Mountain Lakes, Billy Clark, was one of our group, so he was one of the boys, and I talked to them and so on. But the other children, we just didn't pay much attention to. Joe Ignatsic for example, who became valedictorian, we didn't spend much time with him. But Victor Hillary, who was the editor of the newspaper and, incidentally, came to write for the Wall Street Journal afterwards when he became a career man, he's one of us. He was going to pick me up and, come to Towaco and pick me up, to go to the junior prom. He was older and he could drive. But what happened was, the girl he was going take out, came from Mountain Lakes, her mother died suddenly, and he called me up and he said, "Tom, I'm not going to the prom. I'm sorry I can't pick you up." So my brother had to pick me up, pick up my date, you see. And I didn't like that very much. George had to come back and pick us up after the dance. And I didn't mind going home, but the idea of being picked up was kind of demeaning. And I remember about high school, Andy Sabol was older and he had a car, he drove a car, anyway, and he had the crank to start. I still have a scar on my hand from a when my hand caught on the license plate, one time, when I was cranking the car. But we kept close to many of those people over the years. Virginia's friend from Mountain Lakes, by example, we kept very close to her over the years. Well, she was in kindergarten with her and, of course, that was the natural thing to do. We'd go see them and after we got married, we went to see them in Florida and so on. That was, one of us, we went to see one of our mutual friends, Esme Kirkwood, on our twenty-fifth anniversary, for example. We'd just take a ride out to go see Esme. So we kept close to them. As long as they survived. We're still close to Barbara Loeffer Brady, who lives in Vermont. We wouldn't think of going to Vermont, they'd come to see us or we'd go to see them. It's just part of the routine. She married a boy who was two classes ahead of us in Boonton and he's one of us now. He grew up there, he knows what it's like and so on. Just as much at home with him as with anybody. JL: When you were in high school did you work in the summers or after school? TA: No, I'll tell you what I did. I decided it was a good thing to join the service club, and the service club had to monitor the halls, wouldn't let the kids go upstairs during lunch hour, by example. You made sure that you stood in the corridors, so that when the traffic flows going the right way, there was no congestion, that type of thing. So I liked that, that was a good thing. And I remember ... , one of our English teachers said about the service club, he quoted, I forget who wrote this, but he said, "They also serve who only stand and wait." That's Milton I think. Milton's sonnet on his blindness. I think he said, he wrote that. But he quoted that. The service club's motto was that "We'd also serve who only stand and wait." And I remember, when I was in high school, a boy, when I was seated at that having my lunch, pushed somebody against me when I was eating my lunch, and, of course, I just blew my top and so I stood up and punched him right in the nose. And all of a sudden, his nose was bleeding and I looked at him and I said, "I shouldn't have done that. You've got glasses." So I went with him into the boys room to help him and then I said, "I'm awful sorry I did that. I shouldn't have done it." He said "Tom, don't worry about it. I deserved it." But I never felt that I could hit anybody again, regardless. I'd try to find a way not to do it. It was just the way it was. And I was never admonished. I was never criticized. No teachers spoke to me or anything like that. But in high school, I was a very poor athlete. I was never a very good athlete. I'd love to run and jump and so on, as a child. I'd like to play baseball, but I was never very good at it. So I never got into athletics, but I liked the athletics. I like to watch them. I taught our boys athletics. We always had baseballs and things like that. I like that. And then I volunteered and I wrote for the Targum, a little bit, reporting, as a reporter. I didn't get into the hierarchy of the office. And I volunteered as a senior, I guess I was a senior, I volunteered for yearbook duty and I was appointed photographic editor. That was my job, and I had to organize all the pictures. I had to talk to the teachers about the time when they could have the picture. We had to go interview the photographer with our teacher, Ms. Price, and Esme Kirkwood, who was the editor of the yearbook, to make sure the photographer understood what we wanted, everything. He was good man. And so I liked that, and organized that very well, if I could say so myself. Nothing got fouled. When the photographer was there, the class was there for the picture and so on. And [there were] a lot [of pictures] to take, because of all the clubs, all the classes, all the teams and so on, wanted to get in the yearbook. So that was a very good experience. But, as you know, I think you both know, you get your kicks out of what you do well, and it's the best tonic in the world. If you don't do well, go back to something else. Well, that's pretty much what I did in high school . I got elected to the National Honor Society, which surprised me very much. I didn't think that I was eligible. KP: You were also a Boy Scout, you mentioned. What rank did you reach? TA: Well, I didn't go very far with the Boy Scouts. I liked it and I liked the club. I liked going to the Boy Scouts at the community room of the Methodist church. I remember walking in my Boy Scouts suit, one of the committeemen talking with him at that the time, and I remember marching as a Boy Scout in the parade and I liked it. We went to camp in the summer up at, there's a lake nearby, I forget what the name of it was now, where they had a Boy Scout camp. And I remember I went there and jumped off the end of the pier and socked my head on rock. I dove off the end of the pier. I loved swimming. I always loved to swim. I'd always love to skate and I was pretty good at that. Skiing, we just went downhill, so there wasn't much to do, at that time. That's the only kind of skis we had. I liked that and I got along pretty well with it. And there were lakes around Towaco. We'd go up to Surprise Lake, which was back in the hills. It was a big lake and the ice was always better up there, smooth and hard, you know. Or we'd go up to Gallo's Pond which is nearby. Mr. Gallo's used to bring the milk to the house, incidentally. He was a farmer, a Polish farmer. Or the Railroad Pond, [which] wasn't so good because it got chewed up with cinders, but we'd always go find a place to swim and go do it and it didn't get so much organized. You asked about the Boy Scouts. Well, I liked it and I liked what I did, and I got to be a Star Scout, and I still have a Boy Scout book that I rebound, you know? Tutored by the school principal, the local principal, on how to bind books. I had an awful hard time with the trailing requirement. I guess for a First Class scout, and I was at that time, and I had to do that over and over and over. I'm still that way. I don't see things. I don't notice. My wife says, "Why don't you see it?" And it's just a matter of how you operate and how you focus, and something about that, I didn't want to be anything particularly in the Scout. I didn't want to be a leader, especially. It wasn't important to me, and so I didn't really feel highly motivated. I remember, I thought it was great thing about Paul Sypolt who was an Eagle Scout, who went to Antarctica with Admiral Byrd, and I thought that was great. He was a scout, you see. My older brother was a scout. He didn't go further with the merit badges, but he got to be the scribe. Nobody asked me to be the scribe, I didn't really want to be the scribe, anyway. Well, that's just the way it was. I was just that kind of a boy. That's all I can say about it. JL: When you graduated high school, you worked for a year, before you went to college? TA: Well, what happened with me and after that, I was very conscious of the fact and very firm in my determination, that if you wanted to make something of yourself. you'd go to college. Both my older brothers went college. My oldest brother went to Columbia College and he fell in love with a girl and that was it. He had to leave Columbia College when they got married. That was my oldest brother. My next oldest brother, he went to Syracuse University, he wanted to be a forester, and wasn't a particularly good student, he couldn't get, family didn't have any money, so he came back the got his degree at Montclair State Teachers College, by example. And so there's never really any doubt in my mind about the necessity or the desirability of going to college. Well, I remember my brother telling me that there was an announcement in the paper, state scholarships had been established by the legislature to provide one scholarship for each county, and so I applied. And I thought I had pretty good shot, you know, the good record and so on. But I didn't get it. They selected a fella who was an athlete and that's the way it was. But I was bitterly disappointed when I got the letter, so I decided I better go work, and that's when I did. I applied for a job in New York and got my job at the Irving Trust Company as a page. I liked that. They put me for the Board of Directors meetings and so on, and that type of thing. I got appointed to the executive floor, you know, as a page. I could read all the mail, that was open. I never opened any envelopes, but I'd read something like Atlantic Monthly, when it came in like that, or the credit reports on people. Fascinating. And we had an office there where nobody knew what I was doing, there's nothing to do. KP: Just read a lot. TA: I became an expert teeterer in that office, for example. I had, I could almost keep a, for seconds anyway, I could teeter on two legs from a four leg chair, which was pretty good. I didn't mind that. They sent me out for coffee in the morning. I'd go around the back street and get the coffee and bring it back and give it to the footman, fill up two carafes and they'd put it in a little place they had there and serve it. So I liked that. It was good work. I didn't mind delivering the mail. It was kind of interesting. And I remember we had a rule, if you have to go up more than two floors, you took the elevator. But if you had to go down, you know, you didn't take the elevator unless you had to go more than three floors. They didn't want the elevators congested. So there's never any doubt that I was going to college. What I did was, all I did, I got my pay and I banked everything but what I had to pay for the train ticket and my lunch at "Horn and Hardharst." The best thing to get me through the day was a pie, a cheese pie. Pineapple cheese pie. It tasted good and it filled me up. And I got a big glass of milk, that was another thing. And I remember when I was eighteen, I got to be eighteen when I was working there, the boys said, "Well, now you can get a beer. You're going out with us before you go home to get beer." It was legal at that time. And I remember the boys, I liked the boys in the page organization, and when I applied to Irving Trust after I got out of graduate school, they said, "Sure, we got a job for you. There's no doubt about that." But I liked that. It was good work. It was interesting to me. So anyway, I got enough money to pay every penny than I needed for the freshman year. I was very proud of that. I could get my room off-campus. I could get my meals at Callie, no, at Winants, and so on, and get my books. And the tuition was peanuts and I remember I went to see Dean Kirkland and I told him, I did that after the first semester, I think. I went to see him just to see what I could do, what I could get, and he said, "Well, why didn't you come in before?" And I said, "Well, I didn't know it was available." And so he gave me a scholarship that covered the tuition at the AG College, which was peanuts and didn't amount to much at all. So that was my experience with that. I worked, I was delighted when I started. I quit my job. The people in the office, one of them gave me a "Roget's Thesaurus," by example. So it was a happy time, you know. "Tom's going to college." It was a big deal. KP: Did you ever stay in touch with any of those people at Irving Trust? Did you ever stay in touch with the page people. You apparently liked them and they liked you. TA: Yes. I got to identify with the president. His office was there. His name was Harry Morgan and his secretary was kind of a cold person, but the chairman's secretary was a lovely warm-hearted girl, looked very much like you. And her name was Ada Geshwick. She was always pleasant to me. She was always nice to me. I liked that, but, what was her name? The president's secretary was Ms. Hartman, I think. It was strictly business with her. Do this. Do that. I had to go out and get lunches for the secretaries, and that was no big deal, was going across and bring it back, that the type of thing. And I delivered mail to all the places. It took me a while to learn the subway system. But then I went back to work at the Irving Trust Company during my summer after my freshman year. I started with them after my sophomore year, but I found that I could get a better job, that didn't pay as much, but provided my lunch and I'd have to work only five hours a day instead of a regular day, washing dishes at the Metropolitan Life Company where my brother worked. And I liked that, too. They were interesting people. And I remember, we'd get together and eat after all the dishes were washed. They'd talk about their families and where they lived and so on, and there was a wedding among those people, I heard later on. I never kept in touch with any of them over the years, but then I never went back. I had ROTC summer camp after my junior year, so that cut that out and I never went back except to apply. But I thought it was a good bank. They were prominent. They were effective in what they did, and they knew what they were doing. So it was good, it was a good experience. They got merged with somebody and disappeared, swallowed up and they're no longer there. Well, about Rutgers? Well, it was a big deal. I always wore my beanie cap. It was a thing to do. Nobody ever told me anything more about it, but I liked my beanie cap. It never bothered me at all, to walk back and forth to the AG school to classes. That was fine. I used to walk, it was good walking. And I found the professors impressed me very much. They were good people. They knew what they were doing. They were excellent, you know, very effective in what they did, both at the AG college and here, and with my curriculum. I took a lot of my courses here on campus. I took a lot of chemistry, all the chemistry you could get. The only course that I really didn't do well in was the course I took in this building. KP: Physics course, no doubt. TA: Physics. I think that was the only 3.0 that I got while I was here. And I remember, about my grades, after the freshman, first semester, and I got some right, but they were not good enough for a better grade. And I think I got a 1.0 in something and a bunch of 2.0s and I got a couple of 3.0s and I thought, "Gosh, that's terrible." And I showed it to my brother and he said "Tom, you've done very well," you know. "What do you expect? They weren't going to give you good grades right away, anyway." And so that was a comfort to me. And sure enough, over time it built up, and I remember having my grades, I'd always go up to Connecticut whenever I had anytime to be with Virginia, and I'd have my grades sent up there on a postcard. The postmistress up there got very impressed with my grades, you see. I'd ask her, "Did I get my history grade yet?" She'd say "No, that's not here yet." She was lovely lady, lived right down at the end of the street, at a little town called Gildersleeve. But I loved the sciences. I just soaked them up, except for physics, and I don't know why that was. I think we had a good teacher. He was Professor Porter. I remember his demonstrations and I understood, I thought, but I couldn't give it back for some reason. And I think, I found over the years, that I'm not a good engineer. Something about my abilities that don't focus in that area. I thought they would. I was good in anything else, why wasn't I good at physics? Well, that's the way it was. I remember my roommate took physics and he failed it. And I've talked to other fellas, particularly at this reunion, that failed courses. They couldn't understand chemistry. And I remember talking with my son, when I was up there recently in Vermont. Our son, excuse me. He took chemistry when he was going to college after the war. He took Quantitative Analysis. I loved Quantitative Analysis. Professor didn't bother me, he gave us a good lecture, he told us about what we had to do, but many of the men in the class said they didn't think he was worth the dam, you know. He didn't help them at all. But I'd hit the formula on the button, you know, and I understood what was going on, in the formulation, and Tom told me, anyway, that he took a course like that when he was in college and he got the formulas all exactly right, precisely. But he didn't go to class, so the teacher failed him and that made him so mad, you know. What are we here for? He didn't get anything out of going to class, but he didn't get along with the teacher. She was a woman. We're not all anti-feminists. JL: Did you have a favorite professor here at Rutgers? TA: A favorite professor? Well, I don't like to pick favorites. KP: Although you did mention Professor Nelson on your survey form, so maybe if you can say little bit about him. TA: He was among the top guys, yeah. He was a terrific guy and he made a big impact in research, on wildlife and the shore. He could put it out so it was very interesting and understandable, and I think in terms of ability, in terms of productivity in relation to teaching, I named him high. But the others I liked, I thought they were capable. It's awfully hard for me to pick of the best, except for Virginia. It's just, I'd feel it's discriminating, you see, and they really aren't better. Maybe I just don't know enough about them. That's how I felt about it. But if I had to pick, I think I picked a logical person. He was preeminent in his field. One thing I didn't like at Rutgers, when we got where, was a lot of lab work, and lab work gets to be highly individual. You look through the microscope or you'd dissect this, or something like that. And Al Schatz was in the class, and I forget what it was we're doing, whether it was zoology or what it was [we were] doing in the class, and he came over and he wanted to look at my microscope and find out what I had found. And I resented that deeply. He was intruding, so I didn't like it, in brief. And that's just me. If I'm going to do something, leave me alone. I'll do it. I'd love to build stone walls, but get out of my way. I don't want you around, you know? Just leave me alone and I'll do it. And that's just me. It's not a very social, desirable attribute, but that's just a behavior factor. And I didn't mind. As a younger child, I felt I had to learn from people and I didn't mind so much doing things, like my father for example. He was telling me how to hit a nail, that's a little bit different. But here, I felt I was eligible to be independent. I guess that's just a feeling. It's just a growth factor. I don't know if any other people feel that way or not. I remember after exams, taking the exams in the gym, for example. The guys afterwards, one in particular, I remember Carl Bosenberg, he was a very nice guy. Have you talked to him? KP: Yes. TA: Very fine man. I talked to him on the phone last night. He doesn't come to the reunions. He doesn't talk very well, he said. He doesn't want to come, but he's a good man and I wanted to find out how he was. I remember him particularly, and others after the exam, would say, "Tom, how did you answer this question. What did you put for that?" I wouldn't tell them. And I was telling Virginia about this the other night, she said, "Why didn't you tell him?" You know. "It doesn't make a difference. It's all over." But it's not a very desirable social attribute, you know. I know that. But that's the way it is. JL: You had mentioned a female professor. Were there many?" TA: A female professor? KP: I think that was your son. TA: That was our son. That wasn't me, that was our son. Well, I remember the girls in class here very well. There was a girl from NJC who took accounting here. She was a nice girl and I liked her. I remember walking with her. We went canoeing one time. But I was never really interested in her, particularly. There was a fine girl that was in my forestry class, my last year, when I was a senior, from NJC. A very fine girl, nice girl. She was a good student and pleasant to be with. Could communicate well, but I never felt a warmth towards her. But she developed tuberculosis, went home and died. And really, it hit me. I thought that was a pity. I wrote to her once, she wrote to me once, after she went home. How that affected me was, I had to go to the clinic and get checked out for tuberculosis and I understand the procedure, so it wasn't a big deal. Anything else about women, I can't tell you. KP: Where did you live at Rutgers? TA: Well, first-year I lived out on Richardson Street with a family. They were quite young and they rented rooms at a very reasonable price. 250 dollars or something like that, a week, and that was a good deal and I shared a room with Burton Rockcliff, who got to be a doctor. And Burt and I didn't have much in common. We didn't communicate very much. He had his bed and I had my bed and he got up and I got up and it didn't matter very much. I didn't dislike him. But I remember once he said about me, I was getting up and getting dressed to have a date in New York with Virginia. She was coming down from Connecticut and I was going into New York and I had ten dollars. So I met her at Grand Central Station, we went to Radio City Music Hall and we went a restaurant chain, I don't know if it's still around or not. I don't quite remember. They charged five dollars a meal, I remember. It was a big deal. Anyway, that was the last of my money. I had more than ten dollars, I guess. That was the last of the money that I'd spent, was only meal. Well, I was getting dressed for that occasion, and I guess I always felt that I should look right, except when I'm working, that doesn't make any difference. And so, I was getting up and I put on my shirt, put on my trousers, I hooked up the suspenders, I put on a belt. You know, a belt looks good. I put on my jacket so I could look proper when I went to see Virginia. And Burt said, all I heard him say that morning was, "Tom, you're not taking any chances are you?" I didn't know that he was even awake, but he remembered that at the fiftieth reunion. He came back, "I want to see Tom." He said "Tom, you remember that time?" I don't think I ever saw him very much after that first year. And I remember one fella, Wally (Hergit), that was in the house at that time, he went to a fraternity and I think he flunked out. I can't remember very much about the other people, I don't know what happened to them. I don't see them. JL: What did you think of Greek life at Rutgers because I know that you didn't join a fraternity? TA: Why didn't I join a fraternity? JL: Yeah. TA: I wanted to join fraternity, but my brother was the treasurer. If I wanted something important, I had to get the money out of George. And George didn't think a fraternity was necessary, that's all. And I was asked to join one, but I felt a little bit, frankly, that they'd like to have my grades in their computations. But I thought, well, I'll have a good time anyway, so it didn't bother me very much. I can understand that. But I wasn't asked by any other fraternity to join ... --------------------------------------END OF SIDE TWO, TAPE ONE------------------------------------- KP: This continues an interview with Mr. Thomas Adams, on May 18, 1997, at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey with Kurt Piehler ... JL: And Jen Lenkiewicz. KP: You read the paper growing up, which I heard was very unusual, from what I've gathered from a lot of these interviews. It seems like you knew a lot about the New Deal, enough to paint a sign ... TA: Yes. KP: But you must have known a lot about, from reading what was going on in the world just by your reading The Herald Tribune ... TA: That's right KP: What did you think was going on the time? TA: At the time? I was very conscious of what was going on in the world. I remember writing a paper for freshman English, and it was forecast that, eventually, there was [going] to be a war in Europe. I knew that. So I researched the paper and I got back the paper with a good grade, except the professor said, "Mr. Adams you should strive to improve your handwriting." It was a good statement, but I never was a good handwriter, and am still not. I can't write neatly like a lot of people can. And even if I try, I can do it slowly, but it's still not very good. So, there is no question that there was gonna be a war and I was going to be in it. There was no question of that at all. It's just the way it ought to be. So I didn't mind ROTC. I thought it was good and I took the first two years. It was a pleasure. I got to be in Scarlet Rifles, I liked that. I remember being, I liked to drill and I remember they had a countdown drill to determine who was the best soldier in the Scarlet Rifles at the end of the sophomore year, I think this was. So I got almost to the top. A fellow named Clark Espenship from Highland Park got the top, and they did us repeatedly. They had a heck of a time deciding. But I didn't mind. I liked it. It didn't bother me at all. About the rest of the ROTC courses, I found that some of the teachers were really not very good. They didn't know how to communicate very well. They were doing their best, and I never minded the parades or the drills or that type of thing. I wore my Scarlet Rifles badge, I thought that was a good thing. I liked the uniform. I remember one time, I came into the class, I forget which, senior or junior year, where the professor was there, and I'd brought an umbrella from home. It was raining, and so I went into the class and the professor said, "Adams, officers don't carry umbrellas." Well, okay, I won't carry an umbrella. But it just seemed to me like a sensible thing to do. And I liked the ROTC summer camp. That was very good. And remember they had a band up there that paraded the company street to wake us up every morning. And what I didn't like was, I was given kitchen duty as part of the routine and I was put on pots and pans, washing pots and pans, and there was a corporal in there, [thinking] that he was going to fix this kid, and I sensed that, in his behavior toward me, I didn't like that. But the other things we did I liked very well, and I felt that we had a good program and I learned a lot from it. I got to be an expert in the automatic pistol. I wasn't so good in the other weapons firing. It was worthwhile, it was timely, it was useful to me, and so it was a good thing. The fact that they didn't make me a company commander or something like that didn't bother me. That was just the procedure. So there was no question, when I was out, I was going to be a second lieutenant and I wasn't going to be around very long and that was it. But Virginia wanted to get married, she wanted very much to get married, and so we got married a week before graduation. And that was probably a wise thing, under the circumstances. I don't know. I think we could have gotten along if we got married sooner. KP: Did you think of waiting until after the war was over, in terms of getting married? TA: No, I didn't want to do that. I owed Virginia. We'd been sweethearts. And I knew she wanted a baby. I couldn't leave Virginia without leaving her with a baby. That was just it. But the fact that I had to go, I understood. She knew I had to go. I knew I had to go and that didn't bother me. It was just the thing to do. And what happened to me in the military, I was sent to Camp Croft after about six weeks. The graduation was early May, and I think I went on active duty on June 15th, so I went to Camp Croft, South Carolina, and that was a big thing. KP: Before going into the military I want to ask you a few more questions about Rutgers. TA: You want to hear more about Rutgers? KP: One of my standard questions is, especially for the Class of '42, was, did you know Vinnie Utz at all? He was such a legend. Do you have any Vinnie Utz stories? TA: Stories about people? Or anything like that? KP: Yeah. TA: Well I remember, for example, I was tapped for Alpha Zeta early, and I liked that. I thought it was a good thing. I got to be the cencor, the top guy in that, because I was the best graded guy. I remember I liked the Alpha Zeta thing, and going out to the meetings at the, it was the Short Course Building out at the campus in the evening, and our main job was to pick people who we thought ought to be in the Alpha Zeta and, [on] second thought, thinking about it, I feel I was unreasonably discriminatory in that situation, but that's what you had to do, and so I did it. I thought it was my duty. And I remember, too, I was in forestry, I worked at NYA, that was the usual way to earn money, and one of the things I was doing was planting trees. (Charlie Polk?) was the instructor, junior year, for forestry work and dendrology, was, I think, is what the class that he taught was. The senior class was general forestry. But there I was only one, as I recall, in that curriculum. It was a tough curriculum, in part, I think, because people weren't interested in it. That was what I wanted to do. I wanted to learn about it. There was never any question about it with me. I remember sitting alone in the lab, Charlie Polk would come in and ask me, "What's this, what's that, what's in the lab? And otherwise, I'd just look at it and figure out what the hell was that. Is this a piece of oak or piece of black cherry or is it an elm or what is it, you know? But I did get to learn a lot. The thing about what I learned stuck with me. The details are fading. I have a problem distinguishing among oaks. I know a white oak and a red oak, for example, but there are some forty species of oaks, and I don't know many of them and felt I should know them all. And I knew, to get what I wanted to get out of it, I'd have to go to graduate school. And I felt that what I'd really have to learn, I'll learn in graduate school, so I'd do the best I can to get the best foundation that I can have. And that didn't bother me, that I didn't know everything about what I could have learned. I remember taking a trip with some Alpha Zeta boys out to a property the University owns up in Sussex County someplace. I don't know if they still have it or not. KP: Yes, They do. TA: They do? KP: They still do. TA: Good. And we planted trees up there, just for the fun, and I remember riding with some fella who had a car. I didn't have a car. But he said, "Come on, come on," and we did. And five or six of us piled into the car and drove up there and we had a good time. I can't remember all their names, though. They've kind've faded into the background over the years. KP: What about Dean Metzger? Do you remember having any dealings with Dean Metzger? He was a very memorable figure, even if you didn't have a lot of contact with him. TA: I sure did. You know, that's a good question for an AG. You ask any AG, and he'll tell you Dean Metzger was the best man. He was an excellent man. I knew he got his credentials by working with the dairy industry in Vermont. And he talked like a New Englander all the time. He was a very well informed man and he liked what he was doing. He believed in it. And we learned a lot, I learned a lot from him. And I remember going out to the round barn at the AG campus for lectures out there. And I remember going to the Short Course Building for other lectures in the bad weather, sometimes, by Dean Metzger. And he had a student assistant or fellow or something like that. I can't remember his name. He was always around, he was always in the class, he took care of all the stuff for the dean very effectively, you know. Just like you. And I remember him, and of course, I liked it, and it was all good stuff. Another professor I remember very well from the AG campus was a Russian man to who taught soils. He was an excellent scientist, very good man. And he was talking about the soils, he still had quite a heavy accent, and he'd talk about "the perfect oodzol," and he had a funny way of pronouncing loess, l-o-e-s-s , but he said it funny, but I have no memory of how he said that. But he was also an excellent teacher. And I didn't take a great many more courses. I took a bacteriology course that was taught by, no, I think that was taught here, on this campus. I took an entomology course that was taught out at Rutgers and I didn't think much of that. I didn't learn much about it. I knew you had to have entomology. When my brother went to forestry college, for example, after his freshman year, he came home and we traipsed around the country catching bugs. And one of my best friends in school, the fella that lived next-door, that I stayed with the night my sister was killed, I wrote to him about coming to a high school reunion. And he's had a heart problem, he couldn't travel or something at that time. He was living up near Rochester New York, but he wrote to mean he said, "Tom, how is your brother?" He said, "Do you remember going around with your brother picking up bugs?" And I knew the bugs were important and I knew I would have to learn them, you know, if I focused on that area, but I didn't pick it up for some reason, but I got an acceptable grade but it wasn't the big deal. But I thought a lot of Professor Johnson, who was a botanist. He was an excellent teacher, and I got a lot out of his work, and I liked that very much. And I had friends here, some from fraternities. One of them, from the fraternity, was a usher at my wedding, for example. So I didn't feel a dichotomy, in any sense, you know, between me and the guys in the fraternity, except that they slept in the fraternity and that they had to pay dues, and you could bring your girl there, that was about it. We had a group that ate together at Winants. And I remember them very well. One was Frank Schafer, who got to be a doctor, and Frank was a good man. He was very tall, he was six foot three inches or something like that, six foot four, maybe, was a very good student, and I liked being with him. But he wouldn't come to the reunions. He felt, I don't know why, he didn't want to leave his practice. Another one was Alexander Edgar, a very nice guy, and he's the guy I see most of at the reunions. And he didn't want to be interviewed. And I said, "Alex, interview," you know. "It's not for you it's for other people." He's a stubborn guy. KP: He lives out in Kansas. I wrote to him. I was even willing to swing up north, and he's very ... TA: He didn't want to do it. And another fellow was Elliott Alexander, who was a journalism student. And he had polio, but he was a nice guy. Polio, looking at him, after I got to know him, didn't make a difference. He was a bright guy and he could quote things, and he had original bits of things that he wrote. We always ate in the cafeteria, so this little thing I'll never forget, went like this: "Cafeteria Catherine, she's the girl of my dreams, she is my honey, she never let me down, and she's got the cutest ice box in town." Another one was about Robert the Roue from Reading, Pennsylvannia. I remember that. So whenever we talk about, we have a friend that lives near Reading, the Roue, we always called him the Roue. He was a very smart guy and he picked up these words, which I thought I could add to my vocabulary. I think those were pretty much the guys that always ate lunch together or supper together. And we ate well, and we had a good time at supper, and then we'd quit and go back and study, or something like that. It was no big deal. Another one I'd forgotten about, and forgive me for forgetting about, another was Dick Harms. Now Dick graduated after three years, and he got to be Phi Beta Kappa, and we always talked about the war, and we said, "Well, we'll just have to do it, that's all. No question about it. We want to get into it." And he always took the, he wanted to be a lawyer, so he took the opposite point, "I'm not going to get into that. I won't go in, why do you want to go in for?" And so on like that. We talked about that. But he went in very early and was killed in airplane accident. And he's a brilliant guy and it's a pity. That's was just the way it was. And that's what bothers me about the war, all the good people, all the good people that were lost. KP: You accepted the idea very early. So you signed up for ROTC knowing that there was going to be a war. But a lot of Roosevelt was doing was very controversial, Lend-Lease and so forth. How did you feel about all the actions Roosevelt was taking in terms of foreign policy at the time? TA: Well, it never bothered me. It didn't really bother me at all. KP: For someone who had painted over a sign ... TA: No, I wasn't anti about it. They had good people. When I went into the military, I had an excellent regimental commander. Very effective guy. He knew what he had to do and he did it. And I liked it. It was my duty. I went to Rutgers and I got tapped to go to the motor transport school. Now, Tom, the guy that's in charge of this program? KP: Tom Kindre. TA: Tom Kindre. He remembered, that we were outside, there was a motor school, in the place where we were ... KP: Camp Croft. TA: ... at Camp Croft. And he said, there were guys standing around outside, and he said "I need six guys to go to motor school. You, you, you, and you." And I never could figure out why I was picked to go motor school. It didn't make sense to me. But they wanted me to go to motor school, and I liked motor school, and it was a good thing. We'd have to spend summer, awfully hot summer, in Columbus, Georgia. But so what? We'd peel our coveralls off, and get out there, the shirt's off, anyway, underneath, go out and play volleyball. But I can remember packing the rear wheel bearings on the truck, that you had to do. I don't remember it now, but I remember the procedures that you have to follow to determine the problems, whether a electrical problem, and the only bad incident I had, in my military career, was, we're going on a night duty, a night training thing of some kind, so I was out of the camp for a night and I wanted to call Virginia before I went out for the night, and I was in the room where they have the telephone. And I just picked up the phone, nobody was at the phone, and this guy came out, he been in the john, he was coming around a corner, he said, "Put that phone down, Adams. It's my phone, I got here first," you see. So I considered, what should I do? "It's not right that he should push me off that phone," I said to myself. I said, "Well, he's bigger than I am, and I can't really punch him because I'd get hurt." And I probably couldn't hurt him much anyway. And I thought I could pick up the phone and I can probably kill him with it. I said, "Oh, no." You know, that's not the thing to do. So I just left But apparently he bragged about that, to a big guy who was in our class, a fellow named Head, who came from Texas, and talked Texan. And a day or two after that, he [Head] came up to me and he said, "Tom, if he does anything like that, if he bothers you at all anymore, you tell me. I'll take care of him." And it was a touching incident. It turned out well, you see. But then, I went back to Camp Croft, and I was sent to the 100th Infantry Division, at Fort Jackson. And while I was at Camp Croft, I knew what my duty was, Virginia went home after Columbus because I didn't know what was going happen. And so, we were together drinking beer one night, with the old grads, you know, from Rutgers, and talking about how's things going, what have you done, what are you going to do, etcetera, and this fellow who was an old grad, he must have been thirty-five or something like that at the time, was sitting next me and he said, "Tom, are you married?" And I said, "Oh, yes. I'm married. Very much married." And he said, "Where is your wife?" And I said, "Well, she's with her family in Connecticut." I thought that was the place where she should be, and he said to me, "Tom, she's not doing you much good up there, is she?" So I called her up that night, and I said "Honey, come on down. I want you here." And so she came down about two days later. I met her at the station, and that's the way it was. KP: Where did she live? TA: In Middletown, Connecticut. KP: I mean, where did you wife live when she got to Camp Croft? TA: Oh, I got this mixed up, excuse me. That was before I went down to Fort Benning. That was before that. So I knew where I was gonna be for three months. Excuse me, I got that mixed up. KP: So this was at Benning where she came down. TA: Benning. Well, what we did at Benning, we got down there and we couldn't find a place to live. We couldn't find a place to stay for the night, the hotel was filled up, and we went out to this extremely crummy tourist place, that had separate places like that, and that's where we spent the night. So I said "Well, Virginia, I'm going out to the camp, you see what you can do to get us a place to stay." So she went out and looked for places to stay, for a room with kitchen privileges, which was the standard procedure. And she looked at some places and she didn't like them for some reason, but she met a woman in this procedure, I don't know how she met them, they said, "Well, come out for the evening," or something like that. I can remember Virginia setting the table with a blue tablecloth, putting the candlesticks out, putting the silver out. When I would come home in the evening, boy, that was terrific. I remember, however, one time in the middle of the night, Virginia was out of bed, and she was beating against the wall with her slipper, and there's a big bug, a completely harmless bug, they call them a wood roach, I think. About that big. A huge thing. And there she was, trying to get that bug on the wall. I said, "Honey, what's the matter?" I can also remember seeing, there was a group of colored people that lived nearby, across a gully. And I can remember hearing them sing at night. And of course, I can also remember, Virginia had to put the pillows out, to hang them out to dry. And I remember we had to get a bus out to camp, which meant getting up at an ungodly hour. But a fella had a car, and he said, "Sure, help pay for the gas and you can come along." It was no problem. And it got better after while. So, we liked it. We got Wednesday afternoons off, and we'd go into town and go to the air-conditioned theater and have an air-conditioned dinner, and then go back by bus to our room at night. Well, that's the way it was. It was no problem. It was just the way it was. And the fact that it was hot, so it was hot. Virginia didn't complain about it. She bought a little black lunch box, to pack my lunch. Always gave me a nice lunch with fruit in it, like plums, I remember, sandwiches, a piece of lettuce, piece of carrot, something like that. KP: Now this was at Benning. Were you in the advanced infantry at Benning? TA: No. I went to the motor school. KP: At Camp Croft? TA: No. Let me try to get this straighten out. I went to motor school at Benning, for three months. After three months at Benning, then I went back to Camp Croft to be assigned someplace. We didn't know where. And then that's when I was tapped to go to Fort Jackson. And then I could have home-leave before that, before being assigned to Fort Jackson. So in the meantime, my brother had gone, he'd volunteered. And he said, "I've got that car at home, Tom, and it's not doing me any good, so why don't you just take it." So I did. And we drove back to Fort Jackson in George's car. So we had car after that, until I subsequently got my experience at Fort Jackson. You want to hear about that now? KP: Yeah. TA: Do you want to know more about Rutgers? KP: I guess one of the questions is, you'd been in ROTC. A lot of people said that you learn a lot in ROTC, but once you're in the military, you're really, really learning ... TA: Yeah, I really liked that. KP: Did you like motor school? It seems that you didn't have any problems. Did you have any problems? TA: No problems down there are all. No, I liked it. And we had the guys that knew what they were doing. Some guy in the motor industry who'd been an engineer with General Motors or something like that. He ran it and he knew what he was doing. And I got to know the vehicles, the old trucks that we had, the three axle trucks they were. I even got to learn to drive it. And the jeeps, and the command cars, I knew all about them, you see. So there is no question I liked it and I soaked it up. So when I went to Fort Jackson, they made me motor transport officer, just zap, like that, they said, "Lieutenant, you're motor transport officer." I started there, I guess it was September, early October, probably after the home-leave, and I was with the first bunch of guys that got made first lieutenants. They made me first lieutenant right away. That was great. Get more money. So I organized the motor school. It all had to be set up. It was a brand-new division. And my incidents with the military at that time, I'll tell you about those. We set up a training program for drivers and mechanics, and we got assigned drivers and mechanics and they had to learn about the damn stuff. KP: This was still at Fort Benning ... TA: No, this was at Fort Jackson. KP: Fort Jackson, okay. TA: Where I was motor transport officer. KP: So you were doing what you had been trained for at Benning? TA: Yeah, I had been trained at Benning ... KP: And now you're setting up this school, and you're doing ... TA: Yeah, that's where I am. That's the transition. And I had a great respect for our colonel and the other people. The executive officer was kind of a lazy guy, but he was a nice guy. I got along well with my company commander, he left me alone, he didn't tell me to do anything. But I had a master sergeant that had been assigned from some division, because he'd been a good boxer, I think. KP: You were with the 100th Infantry at this point? TA: 100th Infantry Division, yes. KP: Your colonel was ... TA: Andrew Tychen. T-Y-C-H-E-N. Did I spell that right? KP: I think so. TA: Tom Kindre was in that division. A bunch of us were in that division. KP: So you knew Tom when you were young officers? TA: Yes, that's right. And, Tom has probably told you this, too, I don't know, but I will, too, to validate what he told you. So anyway, I was very proud of my wife. I was extremely proud of Virginia, you know, and I wanted to show her off, really. What a wonderful girl I had. And so I said, "I'd like to invite some of the boys from Rutgers [over] for Thanksgiving dinner." It was a family tradition. These guys didn't have anybody around, and so I asked her if I could invite some guys from Rutgers, and one of them was Tom Kindre. And at the fiftieth reunion, he told me all about his experience, of coming to the Thanksgiving dinner. He told me, at that time, that, "I really understood, I got a feeling, what wonderful thing it could be, if you could be married to the right girl." And, of course, Virginia had to cook the turkey. She'd never cooked a turkey. There was no question, you see, about that. And so, we had the platter, we had one of Mary Adams' platters in the kitchen we could use, and, so I think I held that turkey while she got it out of the oven. Well, the turkey had been pretty well over-cooked, and some parts of it were extremely crisp and hard, and she'd put it all on the platter and I didn't hold it right and it fell on the floor. But we were quietly sequestered, the guys never knew that, you see. So I carried in the turkey, and I was very proud for carving it. I put it on the table, and the turkey was really very good. It really tasted great. And Virginia had the cranberry sauce, she had the creamed onions, and she had another vegetable, and she had mashed potatoes, she had gravy, giblet gravy, and it was all very good. And she had said many times, that she had often watched her mother cooking, but her mother wasn't the kind of cook that you could follow. She'd just put a little bit of that, and a little bit of that, of the other, but she's a very bright girl, and she learned, you know, that you follow the book. So if she had to find the book, she'd find the book and do it. So that was no problem. But that was a great day, when I was at Jackson. And then, I loved to exercise, I always loved to exercise. I always did pull-ups, and run, anything like that. I'd keep myself in shape. One of the best things I liked about the situation at Jackson [was that] they had a tumbling pit. Do you know what a tumbling pit is? Well, you think about it, and you think how could you ever do it? Well, it was a long pit, it must have been at least twenty-five or fifty feet long or more possibly, with wooden sides filled with saw dust. And so what you did was, you'd run, going in, and tumble. And it was wonderful. You'd turn over sometimes, three or four times, depending about how fast you did it. So the motor pool where I worked was right down the hill, and I'd always do that, going down to the motor pool. It was routine. I'd stop and do a few of chin-ups, and tumbling, that was the thing I could do quickly, and then you'd get down and get to work. And I liked the training down there, too. I'd like to go out and talk about the routines you'd follow when you're on a mission, when you took vehicles out on a night march or something like that. We had a sand pit, as far as a training facility. I remember going up in seeing how that jeep would negotiate that sand pit, and I could tell people what that was like, and I liked that. I liked the training part of it. I enjoyed that. But about this guy that came from the motor pool, who was my master sergeant, I realized after while that he was not the man for this job, so I went and talked to the executive officer. And this was about after six months or so, six or seven months, possibly. I said, "Colonel, this guy is not good enough. I need another guy to be the master sergeant." And he said, "All right, Adams. That's fine. You know who you want?" And I said, "Yes. I think I know what I want. He's a sergeant, and he's a mature man, and he's with one of the battalions. He was a staff sergeant, I think. I'd like to have him." He said, "Okay. That's what it will be." And there was no question about. So that was one of the things I knew I had to do. And I felt awfully sorry for this guy, the boyer, because the procedure was to break him in rank to a private. Of course, he couldn't do anything to me about it. He had to be perfectly civil. He knew the Army procedures. Well, he got to be a corporal mechanic before I left. I made him a corporal mechanic, and he could have been a good mechanic, sergeant mechanic, and that was his top, that was just about what he could do, I think. And that bothered me, but it was a necessary thing to do. They sent me down a guy, a lieutenant who had been sent in, they didn't know what do with him, so Colonel Stowe told me, "Adams, I want you to see if you can find something for him to do." So I tried to find something for him to do and he didn't do it. He didn't show up. And one night, I went into the officers mess to eat, and he was seated at the end of the table, and I didn't want to talk to him. I sat at the other end of the table, and he'd been drinking, and he said to me over the table, nobody else around, he said, "Adams, you're a sad sack." And I didn't say anything to him. I didn't want to involve myself with him. I shouldn't have said, "Well, you're drunk" or anything like that. Because, to heck with him, just don't deal with him. I didn't want to deal with him, I didn't have to deal with him, so I just told the colonel, "I can't use him, he won't do anything." So, that was good, and I liked that attitude. It held me responsible. And they gave me the job to do. And what happened to me was, our anniversary was in May, and Virginia's parents came down to see us, and they stayed at Mary Adams' house with us. I remember that very well. And that night, I'd developed severe asthma. And that's an awful thing. You just can't breathe. And Virginia was really frightened. I said, "Honey, take me out to the post hospital. That's the only thing we can do. Get the car, take me out." So she did, and we went out there and they gave me a shot of adrenaline. Gone. Absolutely gone. So, after a week or two of that, going home and so forth, being in the hospital long enough, until they were sure I was out of it, I was sent to Oliver General Hospital in Augusta, Georgia. That was a big hospital, built on what used to be a country club, a place you'd come in and stay for the weekend and play golf. It had a golf course and everything like that. And they kept me there for three months, and they took out my tonsils, and they straightened a broken bone in my nose. It was horrible operation. Gosh, that was awful. But I survived it. I don't remember what it felt like, but it was just one of these things. And the board met on me and decided that I was fit for limited service. I couldn't go overseas. [I was] disqualified for overseas service. So they sent me back to Camp Croft, which is an infantry replacement training center. And there, I was assigned to the 27th Training Battalion commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Lotke who was a National Guard officer from New England. And they didn't know what to do with me. They used me as a guy to see what he could do. They assigned me to a night march one time, and I was out on that night march, and I was carrying three or four rifles, the dust was boiling up all over. And I came back, and I had gotten asthma, not severe, but I could feel the development of it, and I said I would do whatever I can, but I don't ever want to do that again, I'd better not do that again. I don't want to get sick again. And so I didn't get any duty like that again, but the Colonel made me supply officer. And so I [was] supply officer. KP: It's not an easy job, I imagine. TA: Well, it was interesting. I didn't know a damned thing about it, of course. But I had to learn about it, you see. I had to determine the quantities of rations that should be drawn. I had the supervise the layoff of the rations, the amount of beef that the truck put off, the beef, into the mess hall. They'd get so many cans of this, so many cans of that. And that was no big deal. And they sent me out, as a supply officer for the battalion, they sent me when our battalion had a group going out for field training. They sent me out as supply officer. So I just had to make sure we got the food and somebody was cooking it, something like that, somebody dug the latrines. That was my duty. And I liked that. A fellow from Texas, Lieutenant (Nederland), he was in our division. I remember, walking out at night, nothing else to do, and hearing men who had their hounds out, and they were after coons. And they talked about their coons, their dogs, and where the coon was, they said, "That coon is over there." And the Old Pirate, or something like that. They identified their dogs, they could tell their dogs by their bark. And I believed it, I think they could. "He's getting close, so we better go," they said. So that was interesting. And I liked Lieutenant Nederland. He was a very nice fellow. He came from Nederland, Texas. --------------------------------------END OF SIDE ONE, TAPE TWO------------------------------------- KP: ... the advanced ROCT, into the advanced, specialized training programs, before Pearl Harbor, or even after Pearl Harbor, people couldn't get into, several people told me, "I couldn't get into the Air Force because I had bad teeth," and they wondered what did this have to do, and some were obvious, like eyesight. But you had the asthma attack. Had it ever occurred to you before this incident ... TA: No, I wasn't disqualified for anything like that. My eyes were good, my hearing was good, all that stuff. KP: You never had problems ... TA: I was fully qualified, physically, when I went in, and I don't think they really knew, at that time, what caused the asthma. It might have been psychosomatic. They didn't know. It could have been. They thought so at that time. I don't think they think so now, so much, but that was a possibility. But that was just the case, and that's why, I think, I wanted to get better physically qualified, because I knew that if I was going out into the field, I'd better be damned well be physically qualified. So that was just all part of the procedure. Well, getting back to Camp Croft, let's talk about that. The Colonel took a shine to me, apparently. And the fellow who was battalion adjutant, was moved out for some reason, he was sent someplace else, probably, [and] he [the Colonel] made me his battalion adjutant. And certainly after that, two to three months after that, he got to be regimental commander, so the fellow who was there, who was regimental adjutant, got shipped out, so I went with the colonel to be regimental adjutant. And I liked that. All I had to do was publish orders, you know, to people. I kept, a group of people who kept the records, to keep them straight. I had to approve a lot of things. I approved three-day passes, for example, that was one of my duties. I had to conduct parades and ceremonies. I loved that. Except one time, I was doing that, I fouled up the markers, where the units had to stop. And I always went back and checked on them and it didn't make sense to me, when I went back and checked on them. And I knew exactly how many paces, and where you put the pins and everything like that. That's what I did. And the guy who preceded me told me precisely what the procedure was. I always carried a card in my left hand but I never looked at it after the [parade] got started. And I thought, gee whiz, I told the colonel, "Colonel, I don't know what happened. I don't know how it happened. I did the usual procedure, but I don't think it's right." He didn't say anything. The parade worked out fine and I had to stand at the edge, I had to be the guide for the companies when they lined up, so they'd probably lined up on me anyway, and they knew the distance between the companies anyway. And so it probably didn't make much difference, these were experienced guys. And then, when I saw everybody was lined up, I'd yell, I could really yell, I'd say, "Guide's post." And so all the guides would all change their position, they'd rotate ninety degrees, from looking this way to looking that way. And I'd have to march up to where the Colonel was standing and salute him and say, "Sir, the parade is formed." And he'd say to me, "Take your posts, sir." And so I'd march around behind him and stay there 'till the parade was over, and salute the colors when they came by. So that was all good. I didn't mind. I liked it, you see. It was a good thing. I think soldiers should parade. I think it's a good thing to teach. I don't know if they do it anymore. KP: I think they do. TA: Do they? KP: I think soldiers will parade until the end of time. TA: A lot of people don't like it, but I thought it was good. You were part of a team. You followed orders, and all these things. KP: How long were you a part of this replacement training battalion? TA: I was there about, let's see, I went there in the fall of '43, and I got out in '46. KP: That was a long time. TA: Three years. A long time. I got to be a fixture. And we had good time there. The regimental officers would get their wives [and] go out at night. One thing happened, I remember. They were having an NCO party at the motor pool, where they trained people in motor work there. They had the beer, and the beer was in a big GI can that had been filled with ice. And so I was the lowest ranking guy at corporate headquarters, I was a captain, the placement and training officer was a major, and we had the executive officer who was a lieutenant colonel, and the Colonel. So I was the lowest ranking officer. So they all took their beer out of the GI can and drank it. Chug-a-lug, like that. And I never drunk beer like that before, and it was cold. But I knew I couldn't fail, but I remember that incident, how that cold beer, cruising down my alimentary canal. And it was not the most agreeable thing in the world, but I did it. So that was all good. JL: You read newspapers a lot. How would you say the United States reported the war around that time? TA: About the war? JL: Yeah. How would you say the United States reported the war in the newspapers? TA: Yeah, I did. I read the paper and I found out what they were doing. And we knew all about the war. The Army did a good job of communicating about the war to people. They had a good paper. One time, when I was with the infantry division, we were detailed to be an escort for President Roosevelt's train. So we had to be along the track between Warm Springs and Washington. Well, we were in South Carolina, so we had only about a hundred fifty miles or so. So that was a good duty, and it was good training. I didn't mind that all. People said they saw his dog, but I didn't believe it. KP: This was the famous Fala? TA: Yeah. "I saw Fala on the train." But I didn't believe that so much. Another duty we had, which I liked, I was detailed to go with a group of other officers and NCOs to pick up our motor equipment from Fort McPherson in Atlanta and drive it back to Jackson. And we did that. We went over one day and stayed overnight, and came back the next day. Went to the officers' club during the night, drank beer, the nurses were there and so on. It was a happy occasion. So that was an interesting event for me. It went all orderly. My duty was, I wasn't in command and of the [detail], but I was the sub-commander, for fifty or seventy-five vehicles, or something like that. I just had to be sure they kept their distance, that they didn't run off the road. They all knew how to drive, so it wasn't a problem. KP: You were destined to be in an infantry division, and Tom Kindre and I have talked at length during his interviews, that if you had not had this asthmatic condition, you might well have gone overseas. TA: I could have, yeah. KP: And the survival rate for lieutenants in infantry divisions was very low. Even Tom Kindre has talked about ... TA: I fully expected not to come back, you see. I knew what the real world was like. KP: You knew that? TA: I knew that. I was fully aware of that. The casualty rates [for] second lieutenants were the highest, by far, from any other specialty. I knew that's what it was. But, again, you know, I wasn't afraid of it. I didn't worry about it. I don't think Virginia worried about it. We're not the worrying type, thank God. It's just the way it is. So, when I was determined ineligible, I wasn't elated. That was when the guys congratulated me. And I said, "Well, sure, so what?" That's the way I felt about it. I felt better because I could be with Virginia. I was rewarded for doing nothing and I didn't feel that was right. So while we were living at Croft, our daughter was born at the Spartanburg Hospital. And I remember I wanted to go in and get Virginia a Christmas present once, while I was there, I probably did it more than once, I just went and asked Colonel Stowe if I could go into town and buy Virginia a Christmas present. He said, "Go ahead, Adams." KP: You live in South Carolina now. Had you been in the South before World War II? TA: I hadn't been there before. I'd been through South Carolina. My brother took me on the trip that went through parts of South Carolina and we toured. He was interested in forestry, and he was working for Metropolitan Life Company, where he was concerned about paper, before he went into the Army. So we toured the forest. Saw how they produced turpentine, what they did with pulp, and so on, like that. So that was a very useful thing. And of course, when I was in forestry here, we took at field trip. We didn't go into quite as many places to see things, but it was a useful trip. So I've been to South Carolina, and we knew what it was like in South Carolina. And we were very happy when we were in Spartanburg. The people were very good to us. We stayed with a family that took us out for rides on Sunday, and we knew their boys. They were going to Wofford College at the time. We corresponded with them until they died. They were just fine people. Of course, as an adjutant, I knew who was coming and going, you see. That was a big advantage. So we always knew when the apartments were getting vacant, or would be vacant, practically even before the guy knew he was going. KP: And that's for coming and staying for so long that ... TA: That's right. So we got an apartment, at first, that we liked. Then we got a house that was half a house. It was the best place that you could get at Spartanburg. And we could walk to the concerts at Wofford. At Spartanburg, we had a sandbox for little Tom to play in, and so on. It was all good. KP: How much did your being based in South Carolina affect your decision to return to South Carolina? TA: While I was a Camp Croft, I was out with one of the majors one evening. They were at our house when the news came out about the GI Bill. So we talked about the GI Bill. I said, "That's great, you can go where you want, etcetera, do what you want." So, I'd decided, by that time, while I was a Rutgers, I decided that forestry was not the career. Mostly for Virginia. It would have made a good career, but I'd just didn't feel that way about it, because I thought about going out in the woods, and she's not that kind of a girl. So I took business courses, I took accounting, I took the general business course, I took economics and so on. I thought they were the best I can get to prepare for business. So I decided that I wanted to get a graduate degree in the Master of Business Administration. So I applied to the three places that I knew had the best reputation: Princeton, Yale, Harvard. They had a program at all three places, but Harvard program was the best sales job. It made the most sense to me. So I applied. I told about my experience in the Army, etcetera. I went up for an interview, and the guy told me, we talked for a little while, and I told them about my situation because I wasn't completely de-mobilized then. I got out as soon as I could after, I think it was after V-E Day. I realized that the war is going to be over in a little while, so why should I do this anymore? There's nothing more to do that pays off. So I got out. I could get out on points. So, they wouldn't let me out of the Army. I was just put on some sort of duty. I got paid. So I applied to the three schools. I only went to Harvard. I told the guy who was interviewing me, "I'm not out of the Army. I don't know when I'll get out of the Army." And he said, "Don't worry about it, Adams. You're a lead-pipe cinch. Grades like yours from a place like Rutgers, you're a solid prospect. So just let us know when you get out." But they did send me back to Camp Joseph T. Robinson for duty. And it was a typical Army fubar. KP: Camp Robinson in ... TA: Arkansas. Camp Robinson in Arkansas. So I went down there, and I'd been an adjutant, so I went to the adjutant. I said, "Is there anything I can do?" He said, "Well, you can write to this congressman, you can write to that congressman, etcetera." I said, "Okay. Do you want me to come back?" He said, "Yeah, come back." I came back and he didn't give me anything to do. He didn't want me around. There wasn't anything to do. So, frankly, at that time, I commiserated with another captain who was down there. We'd drink beer and play the slot machines. So I think I was down there, anyway, about five or six weeks, until all the procedures had been accomplished nothing. I remember I had a room there that had a gas heater in the middle of it. And I was reading TimeMagazine, that was the best source of news at the time, and I didn't like what they wrote about something, that I didn't think was quite right. They put too much fear into it, I thought. And I wrote to them, and I said "Look, I'm a soldier down here. My family is home there. I couldn't be with them for Christmas, etcetera," and I just didn't feel right about it. Anyway, I got sent home, ten days before the class started, and then I reported to the Harvard Business School. KP: This was in 19 ... TA: '46. February of '46. KP: So Time published your letter? TA: What? KP: Did TimeMagazine publisher your letter? TA: Yeah, that's right. Well, that was just an incidental thing in the history of my experience, of being at Camp Joseph T. Robinson, doing nothing, drinking beer, playing slot machines, etcetera, and reading TimeMagazine. KP: At any of the bases you were at, did you have any black soldiers? TA: Well, they had a black battalion in our infantry training regiment that we had no contact with. We didn't see anything of. All we knew of [it] was, was that the officers they sent there were the least competent officers we had around. That was a common understanding. That's the only contact I had. KP: You never had any direct contact, except that they're over in another part of the camp. What about at Camp Robinson, were there any black troops at the time? TA: I don't remember anything about them being down there. I had no contact with them. They probably were there, but I didn't know it. KP: How crucial was the GI Bill, in terms of going to Harvard, going to business school? Do you think you would have thought about the business school without the GI Bill? TA: I don't know what I would have done. I think I would've gone to work for some bank and gotten my qualifications that way. That was probably what I would've done. But by the time I finished my MBA at Harvard, and I went back to the bank, they offered me a job. But the job I got paid me twice what the bank would pay. It was a good paying job. So I didn't ever work for the bank again. It was just one of these things. I liked Harvard, I got along well, we had a study group of people that were supposed to study together. The professor didn't give us a book or anything like that. We were supposed to be self-generating educators. It was a good system. But we had guys in our group the didn't do anything. And I thought, "Why keep them around?" But the other guys didn't want to do that. JL: I'm curious to know, did you know anything about the concentration camps overseas? TA: I'm sorry, I'm not hearing you clearly. JL: When did you first hear about the concentration camps? TA: Did I know about that? I'd never heard anything about it. I didn't know about it. I was shocked when the news came out. I thought it was awful. And I felt, well, I knew the Nazis were doing it, something, but didn't know exactly what it was. It was common knowledge that they were doing something. I remember, even when I was here at Rutgers, the Jewish people came over voluntarily. There was a little girl lived in the house next-door. They called her the little refugee. KP: This was in New Brunswick? TA: Yeah. In New Brunswick. But we ultimately, about my experience here, the family finally moved to a bigger house on Bishop Place. And my roommate, at that time, was a fellow named Jim Belcher, whom I liked. He was a nice guy, and we visited, and so on. I think his mother had the idea that I might be able to help him because of my grades. I didn't mind that. I knew what was going on. I enjoyed his company. But he didn't make it. He got washed out after the sophomore year. I remember coming to the physics guy here, in this building. I wanted to know how we made out. I said, "Professor, how'd we make out?" And he said, "Adams, you passed. Belcher, you didn't." That's all he told us. So Jim knew that, he was not surprised. I didn't know what the grade was. I thought it was great [that] I passed. Well, ultimately we lived on Bishop Place, and we moved to Highland Park. My brother wanted to, he got disquieted by living with my father, I know he did. So he came down, and said "Would you mind if I get a place where we could live in the same house?" And I said, "Certainly not. Why not? I'd be glad to have you." So we stayed with a lady out in Highland Park whose name was Mrs. Hulbert. And her husband had been a professor at the University and had died sometime previously. She was a lovely lady. A bright, intelligent, sensitive lady, you know. She didn't interfere with us at all. I'd come in the back door so I didn't have to disturb her when I came back from class to get up to my room to study and she'd be cooking cookies at the kitchen table, spread out, she'd say, "Take a couple, Tom." And it was a very fine experience. So we'd take her out to dinner, and we knew her sister who came to visit occasionally, we knew her daughters, she had two daughters, and it was a very worthwhile, comfortable experience. We still have a nice little foot stool that has a needle point cover on it that she made for our wedding present. And that's in our living room. KP: When you were Harvard, you knew you had to leave forestry. Forestry was not going to work for you. What type of career did you hope to get after Harvard? TA: I stayed at the school for one semester, in the dormitory. I had a desk, a Harvard chair, desk of my own, two to a room, to sleep and study, and six to share a common john. That's how it worked. And they were all gentlemen. We'd go have dinner together and we'd help each other on with our coats. That was the procedure. I thought that was a nice procedure at Callie. You'd eat and then do that. Well, then at the end of the first semester here, they started to build, what do they call that? Tortilla flats? The buildings that are out here, what's now built up? KP: Trailers? TA: No. You hadn't heard about this. Well, that was at Harvard. No, it's not here, it's at Harvard. They got buildings that were used for construction places, probably, and they had nice little apartments, three apartments to a unit, or six to a unit, and three to a side. So Virginia came up with the children, and we got along fine. I remember taking little Tom with me to where we had to turn in our term papers, pick up what was coming up on the schedules and so on. Virginia's father gave him a nice little wooden wagon. We'd carry the kids around in the wagon. And a very memorable time with me was when Virginia went out with the children and a wagon to shop across the river, the Charles River, and I'd gotten a confirmed offer from Atlantic Refining Company. And I ran out there and met her halfway across the bridge. It was a very big day. It was the job I wanted. Incidentally, it was a job I was well picked for. They picked people properly. That impressed me. I liked the work I did at Atlantic. I was an organization analyst. I was immediately given responsibility, there was no question about that. I was good as the other guys who had worked for Atlantic for five years. No discrimination. One time, we complained about the fact that we thought our grades were too low. We talked to the boss about that, and he said "You shouldn't talk to me about that," but we got our grades lifted. We three guys all got the same grade and a better salary. But I was always impatient. I wanted to do something else, and I liked the work I was doing. It wasn't that I felt that I was being held back, particularly. I was just, I wanted to do something else. I wanted to be stimulated by a new job. I didn't get a new job for about three years and my wife knew that I was impatient, so she was reading the Times one day, and she said this blind ad was in the paper, and I applied for the ad and they called me up and I when out to Ford to be interviewed. I didn't like the guy they had me interview, I didn't like the kind of work that I was gonna do, I didn't like the way I was going to be dealt with out there. I could've done the work, but I said, "That's not good enough." And I said, "No, thank you, I didn't want the job." So I went home, and one Saturday morning when I was home, a fellow called up and asked if I might be interested to come out again, "We have another job we think Tom might really like." So I went out for that job, and it was the same title that I had with Atlantic, but I was on a bonus roll, I got a new car every year, and all these good things, you see. And I got more money. So I took that job, that was enough bait to catch the fish, in other words. Same kind of a job title, organization analyst, where you go out, you study and you find out what's wrong and recommend what to do about it. Organization of people to a degree, too. Well, I liked that work. It was good work. I worked for a good man in Atlantic and I apologized to him for leaving but he said, "Well, Tom, you have to lookout for yourself. If that's what you want to do, go do it." So, I went to work for Ford. I liked the work. When I was working at Ford, I made a good impression with my boss' boss. And he liked the way I wrote. He gave me some jobs to do and they sent it to the president for signature just the way I wrote it, and that was a good deal. So when he got a new job, he took me to become his administrative guy. He got another job at corporate headquarters and he picked me [for a] comparable job there, and I got increases, more money, bigger bonus every time. And we lived in a lovely town there, Plymouth, Michigan. It was a very fine town to live in. And there were a lot of guys out there just like me trying to get along, with young children. We joined a church. They asked us to join a choir, I love the choir. They wouldn't let me in the chorus here, but I love to sing. Singing is a wonderful thing. And I get a real spiritual lift out of singing. It's a good thing. So we joined a church choir and we were in the choir for a long time and on our fiftieth anniversary, our daughter got a hold of old friends and wrote to them and said, "Please write something about Mom and Dad." And one of the people they wrote to was the choir director, and Virginia sang in the choir, too, and she has a good voice, and she has a good ear for the note, and he said, "Virginia, you were the mainstay of the alto group. Everybody depended upon you, etcetera. They wouldn't even start singing until you gave them the note. And Tom, you blended very nicely." And of course, at the church, I got into the, to be the top guy of the governing body of the church. And we had a wonderful minister there. Everybody who ever knew him claims he was the best guy they ever knew. It was a Presbyterian church, and our children joined the church, Virginia joined the church. Virginia got into the women's associations, she got active in that. We had a very good experience. We were in Plymouth for thirteen years and worked for Ford for ten years. They picked me for a key job at the headquarters at Ford. Reporting to HF II. I had to be interviewed by HF II, so I had to be interviewed by Ernie Breech before it could be clinched, and before that happened, they told me another guy has been picked for the job. And so I said, "Well, that's what it is." He had a higher, he was a more important guy to them than I am, they saved him, but he was not too good a man. Honestly. At Ford, I learned this on this job, I really learned this. The finance people really ran the company. If you weren't in with the finance people, you might just as well give up. And so I did something. I said, "If I was going to be in this job," at the top, eventually, I knew that the fellow was going to leave sometime, I'm going to have something to do. I don't just want to sit around waiting for something to happen. I don't want to be ignored while important things are decided. And so I got a letter signed by HF II that really gave us that role to do. But in the process of doing that, my boss used, as an example, something that one of these guys in finance had done. And the problem was, they made too many phony jobs. They made a job to give the guy more money. And you could read it, you know. It was just plain. So anyway, I could have made the rest of my career for Ford, but I knew I didn't have a career anymore, because this guy would control my career. My wife said, "I know you'd be a good teacher. Why don't you do something about teaching?" So I thought, "Well, if you're going to be teacher you're going to have to have a doctorate." So I went out to the University of Michigan, talked to the dean. I applied, I took the graduate record examination, I was qualified, etcetera. I went out there, and they'd started summer courses then, at that time. They didn't really have a schedule. I couldn't get the French I needed, and that kind of turned me off a little bit. So the dean asked me if I would work for him. And I thought about the prospect of short rations in the years I was doing the Ph.D. work, and we didn't have children to worry about anymore, they were all gone, and I said, "Okay, Dean, I'll take it." He said, "What kind of a title do you want?" And I told them, "Well, if you want me to do something you better make me associate dean." So he said, "All right." He announced that I was associate dean. It was kind've a stupid thing. I don't mean to demean him, but that's the way it was. So after three years at Michigan, he decided he didn't want me around anymore. KP: What was it like being a dean? What did you end up doing at that position? TA: What did I do there? Well, I did whatever I could to help. I did whatever I could to be useful. The most useful thing I did was to do something effective about an evening MBA program we had, which the teachers didn't want to teach there, the students were not selected the way they should have been. I got to know the admissions director well, and so he and I talked about it a lot, and we rapidly reached the conclusion that we could work together and do something about it. So I said, "Len, you pick the guys to your standard, and I'll do anything I can to help you in the process." And then over time, the faculty became aware of this, of what we were doing, and we could get the faculty. I'd go talk to them and I'd say, "Look this is a good thing. The school makes a lot of money out of this. Whoever of you would sign to this would make some extra money." Your professors could use a little more money and they'd give me a guy. And after a time, it went very well. We had two sites, one in Dearborn and one up in Flint, and I authorized one person who worked for me full-time, a very effective German lady, who quit her job when she heard I was leaving the University. She was a very nice person and she got a job, anyway, somewhere else. She just didn't want to be around any more. Ultimately, the admissions director quit, the young professors quit, and the school's reputation went down. Until they got, the first dean they brought in didn't help very much. The next dean was effective, and got its reputation up there again as one of the leading schools, which is what it was when I went there, you see. That's why I wanted to go there. They had good elder faculty, but you can't run the school just on a few good men. You have to have a staff. I also planned a parking structure that was there. I planned modifications to the buildings. I went out and made some speeches for a fund-raising thing. I went out and interviewed perspective students at schools that were around. I set up a meeting at the University for students from various schools, got the faculty. I got the best people to participate in that, Paul McCraken, you've probably heard of him. He's the economist. I got him to talk at a luncheon, by example. They really pitched in and helped out. I got a case from Chrysler Corporation because Chrysler would always talk about their business, but Ford and General Motors wouldn't, so I had a case, to give a case example. So we sent it to the schools for the kids to look at, you know, come back and we had a faculty panel that commented on their specialties, and a personnel guy and a finance guy, a marketing guy and so on, and they commented on the aspects of the case. And that was very popular. That went off very well. But I didn't get that idea until late in my tenure, so I don't think they ever did that again. I've learned since they'd decided to close the Flint operation, being more remote, and disappointed a lot of guys who were up there, but they didn't pay much attention to the program after that, that's just a fact. So that was just something I feel proud of, as you can tell. KP: At Ford, did you ever run into Robert McNamara? TA: I did. I'll tell you about my opinion about him, shall I? KP: Please do. TA: You'd like to hear about him? Well, he was a finance guy, you see. He was a fair-haired boy. And he came from finance, where he'd been a controller, and they sent him to run the Ford division. And they fired a very able man Lou Crusoe, who had been vice president, a general manager, of Ford division, who helped Ford a lot. And I knew what he was doing and I had great respect for him. He knew the business, he knew very well, about design and cost and so on. Products, the like, and he did very well. Bob McNamara was a fellow that I'd call a "cold fish". He didn't care much about us in the process. But meantime, shortly after he came to the Ford division, my mentor took me to Ford headquarters so I didn't get to know him anymore about that, after that. He made a good reputation for himself. They brought out the Thunderbird and so on. He knew how to get people to do things, if he liked them, if they were important to him. And they decided to make him president of the company. But before he could really function as president, he was called to be Secretary of Defense. And I thought the idea of leaving at a time like that, after being given all the opportunities he had, being, in effect, picked for the top job in a company, I didn't like that. I didn't think that was the thing to do. KP: Did you ever meet him at Ford? TA: Did I ever meet him? KP: In person? TA: Oh, yeah. I saw him often. I heard him talk, but I didn't deal with him much personally, you see. He wasn't that kind of a guy. KP: It's curious that you say that, because that is the account of him working in the Defense Department. TA: You know what we called the accountants at Ford? Bean counters. So when I got out of Harvard, I thought, I had a very good grade in accounting, a very top grade, and I probably would've been a pretty good accountant. KP: You mentioned that you had a little problem with quantitative, so you would have been a good ... TA: Then I interviewed, and I could have gotten a couple of jobs in that field, but this other job that I took paid better, and had more appeal for me. That's all. JL: That was the National Bank? TA: No, I went to the Irving Trust Company out of high school. JL: Okay. I'm sorry. TA: Oh, excuse me. The National Bank of Boston after Michigan. So what I did, I went to work getting for a job, and I said, "Honey, we've to get out of this house, we have to stop the drain on our cash." She said, "What do we do?" I said, "How about going to your parents?" No problem. Her father had married again, a lovely lady, and so, before I left, I sent out resumes. I did it by kind of industry. I picked industries, and I figured the best job I could do would be a top personnel man. And I thought I was best qualified for that. I'm not an inspirational leader, I know that, but I figured I could do that and get on well with it. So I applied for a job as head of personnel with companies and a headhunter found me. He was looking for guy for a bank, after I sent the letters out to banks. I was interviewed by a bank, and he said, "You're a very good prospect for that bank." I don't know if they tell that to all the people or not, but they picked another guy who was a better salesman, I think, probably, but he was a dope, really. What I saw, what he did afterwards. He shouldn't have been picked. But then I got another call, in the meantime, from the First National Bank of Boston, from the top personnel guy there. And he said, "We have your resume here, how about coming up for an interview?" "I'd be delighted," you know. So I went up there and I got along very well with him. So he said, "Well, there's another guy who's going to get my job in a while, six months or year or something like that, and you have to be interviewed by him." So he passed me, he accepted me for the job as training director. And they didn't really have anybody on the training, they didn't have anybody that ran it, and they had people doing training and they had programs going, pretty good programs, because the guy that had been promoted had paid attention to that. He's a very intelligent guy, and very bright. So, he said, "What I want you to do is to set up a suitable training facility, and get out of that room that you're in at the bank, where everybody is in the same room." So I set up the training facility by getting rental floor at a vacant building there. We mobilized all the training, except the computer training. Now, I don't know why I didn't decide, recommend that we get the computer training, except that computers never attracted me very much. I guess that's why. But we picked up the teller training and we had secretarial training and training for other people. A bank is a funny place to work, though, it's different. The guys were very cooperative, helpful, effective people. It was a good bank. The chairman was a conservative guy, and I put in a recommendation that we set up a training program for officers, for junior officers. Once you get to be an officer, your sort of one of the elite. They made me in officer as a training director, for example. I didn't know what it meant, but I ate in the officers dining room. But in the course of something I did up there at the bank, I invited people who were doing actual training. I wanted to get to know them, get acquainted with the people who were on-the-job trainers, you see. Those were people I was really interested in. So I invited them to lunch at the Parker House. I checked with my boss, "Can I do this?" "Good idea. Go ahead and do it." "I invited these people?" "Fine. Go ahead and do it." But in the process of that, a fella that was in charge of computer training was not invited. --------------------------------------END OF SIDE TWO, TAPE TWO------------------------------------ KP: So you invited all these trainers to your luncheon, but you didn't invite the supervisor? TA: Yeah. And I had a very effective lady who was in charge of secretarial training. She had been raised with a colored family, a family of color. And she said that she considered herself a person of color, but she was white as a sheet. You know, a lovely lady. A very intelligent, effective, confident person. And she was the best trainer I had, really. And so, I asked her would she be willing to setup a program that would give the bank a better reputation in the city of Boston and to try to pick people of color for training, for the bank? She said, "That would be wonderful." So we set that up. The PR people loved the idea. She thought it was a great idea. My boss thought it was great idea, etcetera, etcetera. So she recruited the people by posting in churches, posting around, interviewing the people, telling them what it was going to be like. She was very careful about that. And she picked ten or twelve young women, very bright. They can handle it, no question about that. So that was one of the good things. Meantime, they told me to hire another young lady whose father worked for a bank in Chicago. She was a good person, and I didn't mind hiring her, and I used her. But I wanted her to have a job, and I wanted her to have a pick, to participate in picking these people who were going to be in this program. Well, there was a lady that did that work for personnel, and she made such a fuss about it, and I was told, "Don't let her do it." That's all. They didn't want another person, you know. And so, I had trouble in finding things for her to do, but she was a good person, she'd do whatever I asked. That was [what] the bank was like. KP: It sounded very territorial. TA: Yeah. That's right. And incidentally, this incident with a man who supervised the computer training, he complained to his boss who complained to my boss. My boss, at that time, was a young man who said, "I want you to go apologize for what you did." Well, I knew I had to do it. And I thought, "Well, it won't bother me." I went down to the number two guy in this area, the supervisor of the guy who complained, because the guy, the vice president, the top guy said that he won't send anymore people to the training program if you don't get Adams out of there. So that was the gist of it. So I went down to see him and said, "I'd been sent down here to apologize. I apologize. Is that okay?" He says, "Sure." That was all there was to it. And another thing about the bank, the chairman was this conservative guy. I prepared a letter that recommended the training for officers. So the letter had to go to the chairman for approval, anything affecting the officers had to be approved by the chairman. I didn't mind that. Well, he sent the note back, saying, "Our officers don't need any training." So that killed that idea, you see. Well, that was okay. I still liked what I was doing. But meantime, a headhunter who'd got me an interview with another bank said, "I've got the job for you, Tom. And I know the guy you'll be working for. And you and he will get along fine." He said this and I had faith in this guy, he was a very good headhunter. So I went out for this interview with the construction company out in Des Plaines, Illinois, to be the top personnel man. My boss wanted me make me vice president. Well, I couldn't make a vice president because the personnel guy at the headquarters wasn't a vice president, which is stupid. And besides, you're making more money than he is. So I got him a salary increase, anyway. But over time, I got acquainted with a fellow who was the executive vice president of the company. He was a very good man, but he couldn't stand the chairman, at the time, and he got sick. And so he was demoted to be the number two man in our subsidiary company. And he said to me one day, he said, "You're not very popular over at headquarters." I said, "I know that." "So why aren't you." And I said, "Well, the guy in headquarters is just not up to his job." He didn't say anymore. But a month or so later we got a new man to run the personnel department at headquarters. I got along fine with him. He was good man. He made all the rop personnnel people in the divisions vice presidents. Took him a little while do that. A man that became very popular with the chairman. "This is not the best man you could find in the industry." My boss was told to find a man to back him up as Executive Vice President. He wanted to bring a man back who had been running the company in England. I said "Boss, you better not do that. That guy is not the man for the job. He doesn't know how to pick people," you know? And so on. But he did it. He was in a bind. And so he brought this fellow back, and this fellow offended the construction man. The construction man quit and my boss got sacked. So that was that. He told me later on, "If I had listened to you, Tom, I would've been with the company all the time." And he knew it. He knew that, but they squeezed him. In that business, they had a tremendous investment, not just money, but reputation, in what they did. If you didn't do it well, you lose money, and most importantly, you lose reputation in the industry. They say, "This company doesn't build a good job." So the construction man running a construction project is probably as important as a general in an infantry division. He's a key man. And you've gotta be very careful about who you're picking and you can trust. And that was the way it was. KP: In construction, things can really go wrong. TA: Oh, you know that. KP: People will know if it is really wrong ... TA: You know that very well. That's right. Another key man in the construction business, though, is a project manager. And the project manager is responsible to follow a job, from the inception, when they get a contract to completion, to keep informed about it, to find out what's going on, to report to management about it, and so on. And he's a watchdog. And some of them were good and some of them weren't good, but the effective construction man is another key man in the construction business. And finally, the key people are the guys that sell. They're very important. They have to be known in the industry, they have to be good salesmen, you know, any good salesman, and they have to be effective, you know, in what they do, get a good contract. The best salesman in the company was the fellow who was chairman when I was hired. And he was a good man, he knew the industry very well, he did the sales for all the big jobs that were there when I came, that had attracted the president and made it a really interesting job. They made a lot of money, and the bonuses were good, but one year they weren't good, and we didn't get any bonus that year, which wasn't reasonable. We couldn't do anything about it. The workers couldn't do anything about it. They never did that again. I told my boss, I said "Boss, that's bad business." My boss wanted to cut, the finance people wanted him to cut salaries to save money, and I said, "Boss, that's bad business. You lose your best people." So, he was a very intelligent guy. We did get along fine, you know. He listened to me. He gave me a job to do and let me do it. KP: Was that your last company? TA: That was the last company I worked for. Yes. And we were retired at sixty-three and a half, I was. KP: Was that the retirement age at the company? TA: No. It wasn't quite. Retirement age was sixty-five. At that time, I talked to Virginia. Virginia decided that we'd like to go to England. He went to England and he got to know of family there, a relation of Virginia's step mother. And so I went to England. I had to go to England often. That was our principal foreign subsidiary, and I had to keep an eye on it. I went there often. And so, after a while, I found that going to England, one of the problems, is that you go on Sunday, and you're arriving on Monday, and Monday is a waste. What I did, over time, was, I'd go, I'd ask Virginia, "Is this all right, if I go for another weekend?" So I'd go Friday night, and I'd go out to this farm, in western England, that we got to know. So, over time, we got to know them very well. They kind've took us into the family. And they're fine people. They're farmers, hard, solid, you know, dependable people. We still love England. England is the place we still like to go. The lady that we knew well helped us get a house in England in Gloucester. It was a choice house. An old house. A lovely garden. And we got to know the neighbors well. And we're still friends. One of them, they always want to see us. We always have a couple of dinners with one of them. Some of them have died. But we've kept in touch with them. We've kept in touch with their children. And it's a very satisfying experience for Virginia and me, we feel great about that, a very good thing. KP: How did you end up in South Carolina? TA: Well, we decided we'd go to live in Charlottesville. It's called one of the nicest places to live. KP: Yeah. The University of Virginia and ... TA: Yeah. The great hospital, you know. Good medical facilities, and everything. Well, it has a lot of the good things. We had an excellent doctor. The very reliable man. Top man in his field, at the Medical School. And we had a good lawyer. We rented a place for a while and we were comfortable with it for a year, and our niece was living in the town, at the time, and she spotted an area she thought we would be interested in. So we had a house built there. It was a very nice house, well built house, and we liked it. But over time, we'd lived there five or six years, we got an advertisement in the mail from this outfit in South Carolina that was developing a planned community. And they urged us to come down spend three days with them at no cost, while we were there, and "We want you to listen to our story and see how you like it." So we went down, and it's an area of some 6000 plus acres that's been carved out of the forest, that took over from the old cotton fields. I fell in love with it. It was where I wanted to be. I don't think Virginia necessarily liked it as much as I did, but she sensed my enthusiasm and she took hold. She's always been that kind of a person. And I still like it. It's a nice place to be. But now, Virginia feels we're getting on and we better get someplace else, because she doesn't want the children to have to worry about us, she said. The children say, "Come live with us, come live with us, etcetera." She said, "I don't want to do that." Besides, Montana gets cold in the winter. It's lovely country. KP: It gets very cold in the winter. TA: Vermont also gets very cold in the winter, you know. And we couldn't afford to stay where we were living, in Chicago. I felt that. I mean, I didn't have the income. I knew we wouldn't have the income. So that's why we shifted to Charlottesville. And we got a good house. We sold it for considerably more than we paid for it. So that was all good. But about Charlottesville, now. There are very isolated communities there. There's the medical fraternity, there's the legal fraternity, and even the church was like that. They didn't really want us around very much. But we have a lot of good friends, a lot of people move down in that place. The senior center, they called, which was a volunteer outfit. No government support. Their obligation was to the people who were their members. They attracted people, a large number of people, and I was active in that. I had a men's club and so forth. I love to hike up there, the Blue Ridge, just nearby. And we had a wonderful time hiking. I liked that. Virginia never liked the hiking, but she'd come to the annual dinner we had and she liked that. And she got along fine there. But when we were living out in Barrington, when I was working for the construction company, Virginia didn't have anything to do when she was out there. No children. One of her friends worked for school as a teachers aide, so she said, "Come try. They needed teacher's aides. Come try it out." So she tried it out and she liked it. And she worked at that for ten years. And she was an excellent teacher's aide. I told her she ran the school, but she didn't agree to that. But I know she told the principal what to do, you know. And the teachers were her best friends, in terms of what we did together, what we liked to do together. About Charlottesville, I didn't like the situation. The county was always arguing with the city about who was going to do what and who was going to pay for what, who was going to let the roads go where, and this isolation factor, and the church, we couldn't get really feel comfortable with the church. We wanted to be in the church. And so and all these things. We had friends there, and the idea of moving down to South Carolina was a very attractive proposition. So we came down initially and bought a lot. And then we talked about it and talked about it, and I said, "Would you mind if we go down to talk about getting a house built down there?" She said "No, let's do it." Virginia always liked that idea, a new house, you know. So that's what we did. And we had, we were about the fifth or sixth house built there. And we had a good house built, but nobody wants to live where we bought our house. It's interesting. The development is centered on golf and I'm not a golfer. I don't want to live on a golf course. And most of the people want to be on the golf course. And we just didn't want that. Other people didn't either, but that's why we have to be where we were. Still alone, down at the end of a long cul-de-sac which is our private drive. Nobody else has built on it. KP: And you were, in fact, in a forest. TA: Yeah ... KP: Which is ironic. You had originally been interested in forests. TA: And I love gardens. We always loved flowers. The only thing I didn't like about the building, was the fellow that did the grading and put the soil down. I paid for topsoil, they didn't deliver topsoil. So the garden's been a problem. I had to create the garden. But things flourish. The growth rate down there is amazing. You plant a tree and it's four feet tall in two years. KP: I plan to build a house in North Carolina ... TA: And, of course, I loved the tall trees. The tall trees were all behind our house. Our house was framed by these huge, tall pines. And it's a beautiful scene. They're not the only trees. There're oaks, there're red gums that are colorful. Our son says they're not as good as the color in Vermont, but really they are. And we like it there. So now we're thinking about going to this retirement community in Greenwood, South Carolina. And we checked them out. We went to one of our faith and we weren't too impressed with it. We went to another one, it was a Methodist kind of place, and we were very favorably impressed. Virginia likes that. She likes the atmosphere. And now we just wonder if we can get the kind of place we want to live in. That's a problem, a typical problem. We've targeted the fall of '98 to sell the house, and Virginia's brother is in the real estate business, and he said that he feels that the people of northern Michigan would just love that house, and they've heard about it, and so he doesn't think that there would be a problem selling it. KP: Is there anything we forgot to ask you? TA: I don't know. I've talked so much, I can't think of anything else. JL: The only question I have that we didn't touch on was about your children. Do you want them to go into the military? TA: About our children. We have the three children. And our son was having difficulty when he was in high school. Behavior difficulty. And so he was sent to a boarding school in northern Michigan. And it was a fine boarding school. And he did well there. He got into some difficulty but they didn't sack him. And then, after that was over, he became in love with a girl that he met there, and he wanted to go to Ripon College because it was close to her college in Wisconsin. Well, in the course of his career, he'd been in the Army. Subsequently, we heard about this, he majored in beer at Ripon and he got tossed out. And he had married, in the meantime, up in Boston, he had married a nurse. And so, he went back to college, when we were living in Boston. He lived with us for a while, then they lived nearby for a while, and she had a baby, soon, but not too soon. He's a very bright boy. He's much like his father. And, now, he's twenty-five and he still hasn't fully oriented himself with the world. He's a very nice boy to be with, very bright, articulate, intelligent fella. Tom has a daughter, Tom and Patti have a daughter who's also extremely bright, who also went to the boarding school, went to the University of Rochester, very bright girl, she got a job with a law firm in Boston right away. She didn't like that job, she got another job. That's just the way it is with her. Our younger son Jonathan had apparently told a girl, when he was in high school, that I'll marry you. And so he went away to college, and I don't know all that happened, but he left college and he went back to work. He joined the telephone company, had a good career in the telephone company, and he realized that women were being preferred, that weren't qualified for jobs. He wrote something that was critical of that, and the management had found out about it, and they demoted him, and he gave it up. He quit. He always wanted to be a nurseryman. So, he decided, he went to work for a nursery, and he liked that, and, over time, they promoted him to a job, but he wasn't handling the plants there, and he didn't like that. He was selling merchandise. He didn't think much of the merchandise, but, now, fortunately, they've given him a job handling the trees and the plants. And he knows them. He has a bookshelf, that's about as big as that one, of books about trees and plants, and if he doesn't know, he'll go find out and tell people. He's very effective, very effective personally, in personal contact. And his first wife divorced him, which was a difficult time for him. Another girl fell in love with him. He married her and they were married for ten years, and he got into difficulties, financial difficulties, so she left him. And he met another lovely girl, a young girl, but she's too young. She loves him, she's a fine girl but they just don't harmonize very well. So that's just the way it is. Now, about our daughter Judy, she went to college, did very well at Muskingum In the meantime, she'd gone on a trip to Europe where she met a young man who went to the Naval Academy. So after two years in Muskingum, she said she wanted to go to the University in Washington, what's the name of that? JL: George Washington? TA: No, not that one. It's another one. KP: American University? TA: American. Good. Good for you. You get the cigar. And, of course, we knew what was going on. And unfortunately, she went to work for a Democratic senator from Pennsylvania, and she became a confirmed Democrat at that time, so I'm forbidden to express my opinions in her company. And she loves me, I know she does, but Virginia doesn't like it, so I don't do it anymore. Well, she decided she wanted to be a law librarian, and in the course of that experience, she became disaffected with her husband. I don't know why. It was a surprise to us. She left him. And she's married to another man, a fine man, and he's in the financial consulting business. And she got herself qualified as a law librarian and she was recruited for a job out in Montana as the state law librarian, and, I hate to say all this, but you want the facts. She's the current president of the National Association of Law Librarians. She's in the "Who's-Who in America." She goes around visiting. She talks to lawyers about how they should do their work, you know. That type of thing. And she loves it. And the people out at Helena, we met the judges she worked for, they say "Judy, just run the library. Make sure the library runs. You do whatever you think you should do. And that's fine. That's good for Montana, you see." KP: She seems very successful. TA: Yes, very successful. And her husband is successful. Our son, Tom, is very successful. He went to college. He was attracted by a wife's cousin to help run the family business, a tire business in Rutland. He was a young man there. He knew he was going to inherit the business and he knew Tom and so he said, "Tom, you come run the business and I'll sell." And that was the gist of it. Tom has run the business very well. But unfortunately, the guy, the salesman who hired him, had a family tragedy and it threw him off completely and he drained the money out of the business and the business was going downhill, downhill, downhill, and finally, he said, "Tom, there's no room for two of us." So Tom was out of it for a little while until the company went bankrupt. The industry people said, "Tom, we'll get you back in the business. Give you a hand." So Tom's back in the business. He runs this business in Rutland. He's picked the guys, he's very good at picking people, and he picks the people that he knows he can trust, and who know, that he's had some confidence in what they can do in the tire business. And so it's gone very well. But right now, the tire business is not doing too well in Vermont. The Canadian free trade situation had cut into the truck business there considerably. It hurt Tom's business and it hurts him, you know, in the course of that. KP: It's ... TA: He feels that. He feels that, you know, a deep responsibility to the people, mostly, that works for him. He said that, "I think about the people." I'm sure he does. He loves the woods. He bought this place out on Lake Dunmore in Vermont. He made a friend in the real estate business and he got this place for not very much money, and he loves the woods. When he was out of work, a fellow came in and made him an offer that he literally could not refuse for his camp and the tennis court that was built to the camp. And he, it was a wonderful time to get the money. He couldn't refuse it. KP: You've talked very honestly about the problems in your children's marriages. Why do you think your marriage has been so successful and why do you think your children have had a more difficult time? TA: Of course, I don't know why they acted the way they did, you see. I told Jonathan, for example, the younger boy, that if he's gonna do anything, to be a nurseryman, he better get trained as a nurseryman. Well, he didn't like the training. He didn't like the classes. He knew more than they did and so on. And I wasn't worried about Tom at all. He volunteered for 'Nam before I left my last job. He volunteered for it. And he was in a armored cavalry unit in 'Nam, and he knew what was going on, and he's a very good man with people, and he got along well with them. And he was working for the fella, his company commander was the cousin of the lady he married, who was a nurse, that's how that worked out. And he didn't want to talk about 'Nam for a long time. He said "I had a sergeant who was a very good man, and the kooks, or whatever they called them, were lobbing mortar shells at us. We knew exactly what their location was." And he said the fellow who was in charge of the company, at that time, told them, "Do not return their fire. That's an order." So he had a sergeant who was his number two man, and he talked to Tom and he said, "Look, Tom. I'm going to put a mortar shell on that." And Tom said, "Well ..." Nothing. The sergeant said, "Don't worry about it. Don't worry about it at all." So he lobbed one shell at that machine gun, they were shooting machine gun fire. No more machine gun fire. But a senior officer came by and he asked who was responsible for firing that mortar shell on that machine gun? Tom said Sergeant something-or-other, and he got decorated. Well, are you satisfied? KP: Well, I think so. I'm actually delighted that the equipment didn't work, I thoroughly enjoyed the interview. In some ways it was a blessing in disguise. TA: Well, I want to be helpful to you and Rutgers. KP: This concludes an interview with Thomas T. Adams, on May 18, 1997, at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey, with Kurt Piehler and Jen Lenkiewicz. Thank you again. We really appreciate it. --------------------------------------------END OF INTERVIEW-------------------------------------------- Edited by Dennis Duarte 07/08/00 Edited by Sandra Stewart Holyoak 08/10/00 Edited by Thomas T. Adams

Zerbe, J. Domer

J. Domer Zerbe: Yeah, I didn't like John. My father went by John. Kurt Piehler: This begins an interview with J. Domer Zerbe at Rutgers University, in New Jersey, on November 16, 1994, with Kurt Piehler and ... David Brown: David Brown. KP: I guess I'd like to begin by talking a bit about your parents. You mentioned that your father was of German descent. How far back does your family tree go in the United States? JDZ: Well, both my father and my mother are of German descent. Actually, mother's maiden name was Slear. The family on the Zerbe side goes back to about 1708. Some of the Zerbes came over from Alsace-Lorraine. Initially, we understand that the family came actually out of the Saxony Province, moved to Alsace-Lorraine, and then, subsequently, came to America. Interestingly, they came over as indentured servants to the British. Apparently, they settled up in the Ossining, New York area. They worked in the pine forests, getting pitch for the British Navy ships. Sometime later, and we're not sure exactly when, the two brothers decided that they wanted to leave that area. I suspect they were really farmers at heart. ... They put what belongings they had and built a raft and went over to the headwaters of the Susquehanna River. That is the north branch of the Susquehanna. ... They floated on down below Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, to an area where a creek, then known as Tolpehocken, T-O-L-P-E-H-O-C-K-E-N, ... comes into the Susquehanna, and they moved on up the Tolpehocken Creek, and took up residence in there. Now, it isn't clear as to exactly how they obtained deed to the properties, but, at any rate, that's where they went on the Zerbe side. KP: So, your family on your father's side goes very far back. JDZ: Way, way back, yes. KP: What about on your mother's side? JDZ: Well, I'm not really clear. We were fortunate on the Zerbe side to have a family history that was actually done by a woman who was a Zerbe, who married a Mr. Elliot, who was a publisher of a newspaper in Pottsville, Pennsylvania. ... She had enough interest in the family as such to do this. I suspect, in reading the history, that it could be a lot more complete. It was done way back, as I remember, ... just after the turn of the century. So, I suspect ... if you really dug in and did some more genealogical work, you could discover a lot more, and, sad to say, I probably am remiss in not having done more of that myself. KP: Your father was born in Altoona, which is a big railroad town, or, at least, was at one point. Did his father work for the railroad? JDZ: Oh, I come from a railroad family. [laughter] Why, one of the earliest things I could remember is, you know, as a kid growing up, maybe getting into high school ages, my father saying, "I don't care what you do in life. I want you to be happy doing it. I want you to do it well, but don't work for the railroad." [laughter] KP: Wow. Really? JDZ: My father had forty-nine and a half years, with ... what was then the Pennsylvania Railroad. Yeah, he started as a messenger boy in Altoona, making $14.90 a month and I just can't forget that figure. It's one of those things that sticks in my mind, regardless of the very poor memory I've developed since, but he started as a messenger boy. He went off to World War I in the 28th division, the Keystone Division, ... which was really the Pennsylvania National Guard. ... He was in the division headquarters company, in what they called the G-2, or intelligence section. He was a sergeant major, which was the highest non-commissioned officer ranking, and he retained that rank right through the war. ... When he came back, he went back immediately to the railroad, again, and he went off to a local school. I don't know if it was a high school or what it was, but, anyway, he learned shorthand and he learned typing, and became a clerk for the railroad. ... That's really what he did in, eventually, ... the personnel department in Philadelphia. He moved from Altoona to Harrisburg, for the railroad, and then, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to Philadelphia. And, each time, getting a little improvement in his pay and in his ranking, but ... still, forty-nine and a half years later, Dad finished as a clerk. But, what he was able to accomplish, in terms of the support for me and my sister, was kind of amazing. I'd like to add parenthetically that, actually, ... his father came from a little place called Lykens, northeast of Harrisburg, and he was a railroader. He was the one, he gravitated from Lykens, Pennsylvania, as a young man, to Altoona, and, as you say Kurt, that was a railroad city. I have vivid memories of going out and spending five and six weeks each summer as a young boy with my grandparents, when it was a railroad town, and there wasn't anything in the world any better than riding a train behind a steam locomotive. I mean, that was ... the joy of my heart. ... My grandfather became what they called a valve machinist in the locomotive shop in Altoona. Actually, it was in Juniata, which is a little town over the hill, just east of Altoona. The Pennsylvania Railroad installations there ... were, at that time, just absolutely huge. That was their main building and repair place for both the locomotives and the cars. Other members of the family, too, worked for the railroad. I had one uncle who was a freight brakeman, and one uncle who was an electrician in the locomotive shop. So, lots of railroading in the family. One of the great things that my grandfather did for me, after he retired, and, incidentally, when World War II came along, he had already been retired. They called him back, because he had expertise as a valve machinist that the railroad had needed, because they got into ... defense work. But, he would take me because I could get passes on the railroad from my Dad, free transportation. He would say to me on a Monday, while I'm out there as just a kid, "Should we go some place this weekend?" Well, you could go anywhere on the Pennsylvania Railroad system, which meant going as far as Chicago, or St. Louis, or Cleveland, or Cincinnati, or Detroit, and I got to all those places. ... So, amongst my friends, in that era, man, I was a big traveler. [laughter] KP: That's a fact, because most people in the early '40s were lucky to get west of Philadelphia, south of Washington, and north of New York. JDZ: Yeah, that's right, yeah. I remember very well going to the Century of Progress, in Chicago, in 1934. Boy, that was a high spot in my life, at that time, with my grandfather. KP: You had mentioned that your father had served in World War I and went in as a sergeant major. You mentioned that he learned how to type and take shorthand. Was that in the Army, or was that afterwards? JDZ: No, that was afterwards. KP: That was afterwards. You don't know why he decided to go back to the railroad? JDZ: No, he, I'm sure, having started as a messenger boy, and with the kind of loyalty attitude that people had in those days, and even in my generation, I'm sure he felt the railroad was the place where he ought to be after the war. And so, he certainly didn't want to be a messenger boy. So, he saw self-improvement in shorthand and typing as a way to accomplish a little more. KP: You mentioned that your father was in intelligence during the war. Did he serve overseas, in France? JDZ: Yes, oh, yes. KP: Did he ever talk about what he did during the war? JDZ: Not a great deal. No, no, not a great deal, no. And, as I say, he was in division headquarters company. Well, that doesn't get you up to the front, so, he didn't have, what I would term, combat experience. Oh, he brought things back, as every soldier did, you know, memorabilia kinds of things, helmet, backpack, and pictures, ... French postcards, things like that, 'cause, they didn't come home immediately after the war. He didn't get back ... until, I think, about June of 1919. DB: He may be fortunate for not going to the front. JDZ: Yes, very much so. KP: When did he meet your mother? JDZ: Gosh, Kurt, ... my mother came from Sunbury, Pennsylvania. ... Dad, through another family, well, let me take a step back. My grandmother ... had a very close friend in Sunbury. They had grown up together in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, and this friend of my grandmother's had a daughter, and my grandmother was ... going to make a match. She was going to match my father with the daughter of this friend. ... Somehow or other, they arranged for him to go over to Sunbury and meet her. He didn't know her prior to this meeting. ... He went over, well, there was no real relationship that developed between them. But, in the process, he met my mother in Sunbury, who was a friend of the young girl that my father was supposed to come over and have the date with in Sunbury. ... I remember my mother was always so pleased to talk about the time that my father came over and they went to a park just outside Selinsgrove. I know it well because it was there when I was a young boy. As a matter-of-fact, it's still there, Rolling Green Park, and, at that time, they had dances, apparently, on weekends. A dance band was there and there was a dance floor, and they went over, and my father winds up dancing with the woman who became my mother, practically every dance, and left the other gal to sit. They had nothing in common, so, it didn't take long after that that ... my dad apparently decided that he'd found a proper mate. And then, he was running to Sunbury every weekend from Altoona. ... They were married June 14, 1921. KP: Your father's career sort of explains how you ended up in Mount Holly. JDZ: Yes. KP: He kept going farther east, and was eventually based down in Philadelphia. JDZ: Yeah, they lived in an apartment in Philadelphia, as a married couple, and that's where I was born. And then, in that, I guess what we could call it the ... first suburban exodus, after World War I, he decided to come to New Jersey. One of the people ... he worked with had come over and settled in Woodbury, New Jersey So, mother and dad came over and they looked at Woodbury and, but anyway, subsequently decided that they liked Mount Holly. ... That's how we came to settle there in a small bungalow, for which they paid 3800 dollars, brand new, with an unfinished second floor, and my father, over a period of three or four years, refinished the whole upstairs, made three bedrooms out of it, in addition to the bedroom downstairs. So, it was very, in those days, commodious. KP: Mount Holly and Camden County was very rural at that point in time. JDZ: Oh, I'll say. [laughter] Well, of course, Mount Holly is in Burlington County. KP: Yeah, I always think that it is in Camden, but, it is really Burlington. JDZ: It's in Burlington. It's interesting you should say that, because, when I came to Rutgers, if you came from south of Trenton, you were referred to as an "apple-knocker." You were, ... I mean, a real country boy, and, of course, I thought of the area north of New Brunswick, once you got into the Newark area and above, you know, I thought about all those communities simply running into one another. When did you know when you were out of one and into another? It was, I guess, this communal desire ... to meet with other people from your area that led me to build some friendships with fellows from south of Trenton. Not that I declined ... friendships with others, but, I remember ... we had a mixer, up here, as freshmen. We'd come in and this was even before classes. I guess classes were going to start the next day. ... I had played baseball for Mount Holly, just as a sub. I was a sub outfielder. A little guy; I only weighed 132 pounds. ... There was a chap from Pemberton who pitched for them, a fellow by the name of Fred Detrick, and I got into a game, as a sub, against him and got the first hit of my high school career [laughter] as a sub against him. ... The reason I mention him is because I remember, the night of the mixer, ... somehow I knew from the local paper, I guess, that he, and then, another friend of his from Pemberton High School, by the name of Bill Haines, whose family was big in cranberries, and still is, in South Jersey, they are the biggest, and the two of them were going to come up to Rutgers. So, I made it a point to meet the both of them at that mixer. And, I met ... some other fellows from Woodstown, Swedesboro, Ocean City, to mention a few places. KP: There still is a very strong north-south split, but it seems to have even been more pronounced then. JDZ: Oh, yeah, you see it, certainly, in the politics, in this most recent campaign. The challenge was hurled out, "What do you really know about South Jersey?" [laughter] ... I guess it's sort of like north and south California. ... I think we are getting a heck of a lot more attention than we did in those days. ... KP: When you were growing up in Mount Holly, where did most people work? What did most people do for a living? Were most commuters into Philadelphia? JDZ: Well, there was some ... local industry. There were two textile mills that made upholstery fabric. They would have been the largest employers in town. ... Well, one of the upholstery mills actually had a dye-house, as well, which was a separate company, but, under the same ownership, and then, there was another dye-house, Ankokas Dyeing and Finishing. The big textile mill was Northampton Textile, but, let's call the independent die-house Ankokas Dyeing and Finishing. As a matter-of-fact, my father-in-law worked there for over ... forty years. And then, there was a hosiery mill there, and, in the early twentieth century, prior to about 1920, there was a carpet mill there. There were a number of commuters to Philadelphia. We had railroad service. At that time, the Pennsylvania Railroad actually ran out of Camden and came over through Mount Holly, to Pemberton, and down across, what we think of as, the Pines, the Pine Barrens, through Whiting, over to Seaside Heights, up to Seaside Park, and there were trains that ran every day, back and forth, from Camden up there. So, there were a bunch of commuters from Mount Holly at that time. KP: Were most people who lived in Mount Holly first generation Americans, or were they second, third, or forth generation Americans? Did you have any immigrant communities that worked in the mills? JDZ: Well, I would say second and third generation for the most part, very definitely. My wife comes from an English background and her father was the last of eleven children, and her grandfather had, actually, ... worked in the textile industry in Manchester, England. ... He was brought over to a Philadelphia upholstery concern, people who made plush-type fabrics. ... He had an expertise called plush-cutting, and he was actually recruited from Manchester, England to come over. ... They paid his passage, they paid for his whole family to come over. And then, he would go back, once a year. He was a race track tout, if you will. He enjoyed the races, [laughter] and ... once a year, he would leave the family, I mean, they lived in a section of Philadelphia called Manayunk, an Indian name, and that's where the mill was located. But, then, once a year, he'd go back during race season to watch the ponies run. My wife's father was the only one of the eleven children born in America. The others were ... born in England. But, I don't know that they are necessarily typical. ... I think of my close friends and I think they were all, oh, I'm sure they were all second, third, fourth generation. I don't think we had anything like the kind of ethnic enclaves that ... clustered in the cities, where you're Italian, Polish, German, or whatever groups would come in, brand new, from Europe. KP: How good was your elementary and high schools, looking back? How well did they prepare you for Rutgers? JDZ: I think, generally, ... quite good. ... You know, it always sounds, I guess as though, and you don't intend to brag. I'm not patting myself on the back. Please, don't misunderstand. ... I just think that there was an attitude engendered in young people at that time. It certainly was in me. My mother and father had no college education. My father didn't even graduate from high school. He quit school in the middle of his junior year. My mother did graduate from high school, in Sunbury, in 1918. But, there was never any doubt that I was supposed to go to college. KP: Both your mother and father had ... JDZ: Yeah, it was just sort of assumed, "Hey, you're going to go to college," and, I guess I was imbued enough with that I worked hard enough in school. ... In today's lexicon, I'm probably considered a nerd. I hear that term from my grandson ... KP: Were you ever called a grinder? JDZ: Oh, yes, yeah, some, [laughter] I think in an unjustified way. I never got real great, great marks, but, ... in elementary school and high school, I worked and I got good grades. When I came to Rutgers, I was probably a ... B student. But, I had some great teachers. I mean, there are three or four teachers that stand out in my mind. A high school algebra teacher, an 8th grade ... English teacher, Alva Hendrickson, just great. ... They seemed so dedicated and I enjoyed school. I thought school was great. I get into high school and, well, I have vivid recollections of lots of things. I guess, ... sports activities were high on my agenda. I love football, basketball, ... the major sports. KP: Did you play any sports? JDZ: Well, I was pretty small. I said, earlier, I was a sub on the baseball ... team. That was the extent ... KP: But, you loved going to the games. JDZ: Oh, yes, sure. ... I had a lot of close friends who participated, who were bigger than I in stature, not that that was the main reason. But, I enjoyed all of that. I got a break, ... I'll call it a break, in my junior year. ... We had student council, as in most schools, or all schools, high schools, and we had a high school that numbered about six hundred, total. ... When it came time to put up candidates for student council, there were two other fellows who were in my class, juniors, and they were running a campaign, you know, in a small kind of a way. And, one of my friends said, "I'm going to start up a petition and run you." Me, for student council president. ... I wound up winning, which was no great tribute to me. [laughter] It's just the idea that by petition, I could win, and that was a good experience. It was a great experience. ... I selected one of those two who had been the original candidates as sort of a right-hand person on the student council. You look back on it, you say, "Well, what real accomplishment did student council ..." But, in those days, and I think to a high school student, that's important. You start to build some responsibility and some, if you will, feeling about management, managerial kind of stuff. High school was a great experience. KP: It sounds like being the high school student council president gave you a lot of leadership experience. JDZ: Well, it did. Each Friday, in addition to running the meetings, of course, ... we'd have an assembly. ... The student council president was the one who got up on the stage ... every Friday, and made some remarks about activities during the week, and introduced the program to be for that Friday. Yeah, standing in front of people and talking, ... it came about a bit easier. KP: How big was your high school, approximately? JDZ: Well, we had about six hundred students at the time. We became a regional high school. ... We were Mount Holly High School, in my first two years, and then, they embraced a larger regional concept and, we became Rancocas Valley Regional High School. I graduated from Rancocas Valley Regional High School. ... I had taken a competitive test for a scholarship, which the railroad offered through their employees, through my dad. His insistence was that I should really try to take this test for a scholarship to Bucknell University. ... I sort of gravitated toward Bucknell more out of, I guess, the fact that I had a number of relatives up in that area and I'd become a little familiar with it, and I'd done enough reading to know that it had a very high ranking as a university. So, I took the test, and I got a very, very small, ... little $400 a year scholarship. ... I graduated from high school and, somewhere, and I have the letters at home, the supervising principal, I'm sorry, the superintendent of all the township schools, lived around the corner from me. ... He wrote me a note one day, after I graduated. He said, "Domer, have you ever thought about Rutgers?" He said, "You know, you could take an exam for a state scholarship, they give so many per county." ... I talked to my parents about it, and thought, "Well, gee wiz, money being as important as it is, maybe this is the direction I ought to go." So, I wound up, then, I had another letter from Mr. Kindig, who was the high school principal, seconding what the superintendent had said, "By all means, take the exam." So, I took the exam and, fortunately, I got a scholarship which paid tuition, which was great. You know, Rutgers then was what, eighteen hundred students. Great, small school. ... I had never been up to Rutgers, prior. ... I didn't know the first thing about New Brunswick, or Rutgers. Of course, once I took the exam, I got a hold of catalogs and things to see what they offered, because my interest, initially, was in journalism. So, I wound up at Rutgers. KP: Before leaving Mount Holly and the 1930s, how did the Great Depression effect your family? JDZ: Well, my dad was never fully unemployed. I remember well, him coming home and saying, "Well, we're only going to work three days a week," and he worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. But, never fully ... unemployed. But, the parents of my close friends, I had six close friends through high school, ... and this group adhered together. ... We had lots of fun together. Some of them had parents who were totally unemployed. ... It was tough. ... It's a conditioner, there's no question that it conditions some of my thinking today. KP: In what way? JDZ: Life, well, there is so much affluence today. You know, it's give your children, give your grandchildren, it's as though I want things better for them, so, give, just give, and that's not right. It just isn't right. I think we are learning that, but it's a slow, slow process. ... It made me a saver in a way. I hate to throw things away. But, I think being a pack rat is kind of one of the things that, perhaps, emerges from this saving kind of trait. My wife does the same thing. You just don't throw things away when you know how tough they were to get. ... When I came to Rutgers, after I had taken this exam that I told you about, I came to find out that the girl who had lived across the street from me in Mount Holly, who was ... three years older than I, was dating a chap who was at Rutgers. His name was Carleton Dilatush. ... My neighbor was Shirley Cain. ... He somehow got the word, through Shirley, that I was going to be an incoming freshman. He was already ... gonna come back for his senior year, I'm coming in for my freshmen year. So, he made it a point to introduce himself to me, and so forth. Well, as a result of that, I wound up going into the same fraternity, in my sophomore year, but, I also was fortunate in getting the job that he had. He carted food from the cafeteria to the infirmary, in metal containers. ... I became heir apparent, when he graduated, to that job and it paid for my meals. Of course, it allowed me ... access to the cafeteria ... to help put the food into the containers. ... And, I had to have a car, in order to do this. ... I got my first car and, I mean, that was a prerequisite to having the job. Had to have a car. Wound up buying a second-hand, 1936 Chevrolet Coupe. Great automobile, stick shift, went to Moorestown to a dealer, and ... my father went with me, of course. Three hundred twenty-five dollars and that car was a great car. KP: So, you had a car on campus. JDZ: Well, I had a car but, ... my friends, you know, would beg, "Let me use the car for this, let me use the car for that. Can I go on a date with your car over to NJC?" Whatever. Oh, no, I was a tight ... no, I watched what happened to that car. That was my car. Now, I'd do favors for guys, but they'd go with me. But, I wouldn't ... KP: Lend it out? JDZ: No, I didn't lend that car out, no way. KP: What did you and your father think of the Roosevelt Administration, Franklin Roosevelt? JDZ: Well, my dad was a Republican, I think all through his adulthood. KP: He did not waver in 1932 or 1936, did he? JDZ: ... No, but, on the other hand, ... I don't have a keen recollection on that. My father and I, we really never had many serious discussions about politics. I knew he was Republican. I think, like many Republicans in those days, they saw what had happened under Herbert Hoover and said, "My God, here's salvation under a new man, Roosevelt." ... I had an uncle, for example, who was on WPA, up in Sunbury, Pennsylvania, Works Projects Administration. ... He was totally unemployed and had three children, and we had first hand contact with them. ... I think it brought home to us that, boy, Roosevelt is doing something worth while. Here's the WPA, then, of course, along came the NRA. I mean, the government was pouring money in. ... When you knew that you had people selling apples on the corners, veterans from World War I, you know, selling nickel apples, anything to try to make a living. ... It wasn't unusual to have hobos come to your back door and beg for something ... to eat in the '30s. You know, "Could I please, you know, I'll do some work, I'll do anything." KP: So, you remember hobos coming for a ... JDZ: For a sandwich. KP: Would your mother give them anything? JDZ: Oh, yes. Yeah, there was ... a spirit of neighborliness, wanting to help one another. No question about it. You didn't have the suspicion, you didn't have the fear that somebody's going to come into your house, beat you, rape you, that kind of thing. That never crossed your mind. KP: In your community, did you ever have any Ku Klux Klan activity. Do you remember ever watching them march or anything? JDZ: No, no, absolutely not. I have no awareness of anything of that sort. KP: One of the questions that I always ask is why did you come to Rutgers? Did Rutgers live up to your expectations? JDZ: Yes, yes, I think so. KP: You never look back and wish you had gone to Bucknell? JDZ: No, no, not at all. I think Rutgers ... was small enough, and, I guess, in today's situation, where it is so large as a state university, I don't know whether I would have the same feeling about it as I have today. My grandson goes to Franklin and Marshall. He's in his junior year there, and he and his parents went out of their way to select a smaller school. ... It's a school about the same size as what Rutgers was. I think they have about 2200 out there now, as Rutgers was when I went here. ... I'm not arguing against the state university, or what it offers, certainly the latitude it offers, and the costs. I think that's great. I just don't know that it satisfies all. Very doubtful. KP: Yeah, you were very happy at the time. JDZ: I was very happy at the time, and ... I get the feeling that my classmates were ... happy, yeah. ... You'd have discussions about why you had compulsory chapel. KP: How did you feel about compulsory chapel? It often does come up in interviews. JDZ: I felt ... chapel offered some unusual opportunities, from time to time. They'd have Norman Thomas come. He had the Socialist bent. He spoke and, incidentally, he was an excellent speaker. I mean dynamic, I thought. KP: In fact, he was speaking here on Pearl Harbor Day, when Pearl Harbor was attacked. JDZ: You know ... you are telling me something I didn't remember. I have a vivid memory of what I was doing Pearl Harbor Day, and getting the word. I was in the library, I was down in the stacks ... at that time, we called them the stacks. I don't know if they're still there or not, down in the basement, where the booths were. ... I was studying, and I came out, and bumped into people as soon as I got ... on the first floor of the library, telling me what had happened at Pearl Harbor. DB: When you joined your fraternity, what was it like being in charge of a fraternity in the late 1930s? JDZ: Well, I wasn't in charge. I did become president of the fraternity in my senior year, 1943. Our fraternity had some problems right from the outset. Alpha Chi Rho had been formed from what was called Ivy Lodge and the Tritilian Lodge, two local fraternities, and they combined back before I came to Rutgers. I can't tell you exactly what year that was done, but it was done, I think, in the early '30s to mid-'30s. ... Building a kind of financial base with an alumni was slow to happen, obviously. You were in the formative years, and here's a new fraternity, Alpha Chi Rho, and it didn't have a lot of strength, anyway. ... As a result, we never had a chapter house that we owned. It was always a rental, and ... in my years here, we lived in two different houses. Of course, I didn't live in a house my freshman year. I lived up on Bartlett Street, with five other students, one of whom, incidentally, had a great impact on my ... career at Rutgers. If I may ... KP: Oh, no, please do it. JDZ: I'm going to reminisce for a moment. A fellow by the name of Fred Lacey, who went on to become a federal district judge. The name may ... be familiar to you. Well, I wound up with the Olsen family, who owned the house and put out rooms on Bartlett Street. I had been late in getting up here, and so, I wound up at ... well, we didn't have a lot of university housing, at that time, so I wound up with this private family. And, there were five other students there. Three freshmen, ... two sophomores, and a junior. I wound up rooming with Fred Lacey my freshmen year. Now, Lacey was a big guy. He had gone to the University of Indiana on a scholarship, pitching, baseball pitcher. He was about ... 6'3", a big guy, and a good student. ... He hunkered down and I think that was a good motivation to me. Instead of throwing me in with, well, I don't know, I think ... it just happened that way that I wound up rooming with him, not with another one ... of the other two freshmen. He was just a good influence. That was the whole freshmen year, but, he was a good influence. KP: Did you stay in touch with Judge Lacey? JDZ: No, I lost contact. Of course, ... he was two years ahead of me, and I lost contact with him. ... As a matter-of-fact, I haven't seen him since. ... I've seen pictures of him, read about him, but I haven't actually seen him. I've looked for him at times, I've been up here for reunions. But, I've never made a connection. DB: Do you remember any fraternity activities, whether it be your own or another fraternity's? JDZ: Oh, yeah, sure. Oh, yeah. Anyway, I had said, we lived on two different properties. We lived in a property on Union, ... a rental property, and ... we might say, in a state of disrepair. We would come in, before school started in September, and have some work days and put it in some reasonable shape. And then, we had to get out of there, when was that? I guess ... at the end of my sophomore year, which would have been '41. We had to get out, and then, we rented a house up on ... Easton Avenue. Sigma Alpha Mu was sort of diagonally across from us, Sammies, that's what we called them, yeah. We had a lot of friends over there. But, we had ... fraternity parties. [laughter] ... I was not a beer drinker. I never learned to drink beer then, not as though you have to learn to drink beer. I acquired a taste for beer in the service, finally, after I had already left Fort Benning and gone on to my first station after that, in 1943. But, we had beer parties, and I could remember living in the house on Easton Avenue. The windows, there were two windows in the living room, you came in through a center hallway, and then, made a right turn into this rather large living room, and there were two windows, and those windows came down almost to the floor in that particular house. We had one guy in the fraternity, strong, burly kid. He'd go through the whole winter wearing only a sweater. I remember him and thinking to myself, "My God, what are you doing to yourself? I'm all bundled up with a sweater and parka, and he's walking around in the middle of the winter with a sweater on." Anyway, invariably, he'd have the sweater on and I swear, [laughter] ... he would drink a little too much and, invariably, run through a window. And, never, never cut himself. I swear, never cut himself. It just was good fortune. Anyway, that's one of the recollections. And then, we had, oh, what was he, the assistant dean of men, at that time, by the name of Cuno Bender. Cuno was an ex-football player, big, burly guy, and he was like a traffic cop, you know, out of uniform, plain clothesman. And, he would snoop in on what was going on, when it would be the end of an exam time, or whenever those times were that you were thinking about a party, on a Friday night, or a Saturday night. Cuno was always around, oh, yeah. He was around, he was a sneaky kind of a guy. [laughter] ... -------------------------------------------END TAPE ONE, SIDE ONE----------------------------------------- JDZ: To continue on the fraternity thing, ... there were actually four of us who roomed together for the last two years. ... It was a great bunch. We had a fellow from Rahway of Czechoslovakian descent named Sloca, Charlie Sloca, and then, Fred Detrick, and the fourth guy was ... Weston Dangler, came from down around Asbury Park. Sloca from Rahway, Detrick from down my way, Pemberton, and it was just a great crew. I didn't do a lot of studying in the fraternity house. I found that to be a difficult, although some fellas didn't. ... We had, I think, ... three engineers my last year, and we had one chemistry major. I mean guys who ... had tough, tough courses. I found the library was the best place I could study and did there more than anywhere else. But, we had a lot of fun, we really did. Good, clean fun. ... We had double bunks, two double bunks, and Charlie Sloca slept above me. ... He was going, at that time, with a girl at NJC. Charlie was a very fine, fine student. He ... got a Phi Beta Kappa key, as did his wife at NJC. He was dating her. ... I remember senior year, he had a picture. Fred Detrick and I talk about this often. Charlie had a picture of Maureen on his bureau, we shared a bureau, as I remember, and the picture was there. ... Detrick, he was a bird. I mean, he was always kidding around, doing things that would ... annoy, and if he got back in that room before Charlie got back from classes, he'd turn the picture around, face the wall. ... Charlie would come in and he'd storm, "Who did this to the picture." ... He knew right well, well, I don't think he was necessarily sure who it was, but, it was, invariably, ... Detrick. Detrick ... started out in engineering, and then, changed the end of his freshman year, went into, I think, ... education. Dangler was an agriculture student, so, most of his work was across town at ... Cook College, and, of course, most of my classes were, I had a lot up on ... Bishop Place. Great place. Had History and Political Science classes up there. But, the fraternity life ... was good. We were a pretty serious bunch, actually. We had our fun, but, a pretty serious bunch. It wasn't all frivolity. ... Fred Detrick, in our senior year, ... became, I can't think of the title he had, but, helping the cook. We had a cook, a German lady by the name of Ertl, E-R-T-L, Margaret Ertl, who came from Highland Park. ... Yeah, we got her through another German lady who was our housekeeper, and the two German ladies knew each other. We weren't satisfied with the cook we'd had the previous year, so, Margaret Ertl came down, and Margaret was perfecto. She couldn't do enough for you, and she knew how to cook. Fred Detrick was the one who would go do the buying for the house, and he and Margaret would go together, much of the time, and, of course, Margaret took ... an extreme liking for Fred. ... Margaret had to be in her early fifties, mid-fifties, at the time, but a dear. I could remember her potato leek soup. [Makes pleased noise.] ... But, anything she did, and, of course, you tried to cook as inexpensively as you could, you know. ... You didn't have meat every meal. You didn't have roast beef, and the better cuts, filet mignon and all that business. KP: Your fraternity, what were your initiations like? JDZ: Well, I recollect several things. I recollect crawling across, you know, on all fours and getting paddled by, oh, I don't know, six or eight people. We didn't have a big house. ... If we had maybe sixteen or eighteen in the house, ... that was the largest. We were not a big house. So, my recollection is there might have been six or eight upperclassmen, so, you got paddled. And then, I remember, they gave everybody, all the pledges, ... a full garlic, all the cloves, and you had to eat, you were forced to eat, the garlic. And then, they passed out cigars, and everybody had to light up a cigar. ... I didn't smoke in high school. I mean, I was not a smoker. Later on, I became a pipe smoker, and would smoke some cigars. But, that's all. I'll tell you, you put the cigars on top of the garlic, and ... we were all sick as dogs. What else do I remember about that? ... It was in total innocuous. It was not something that was real hazardous. They didn't make us swim the river. ... KP: I have heard that some fraternities were not as innocuous. JDZ: Yeah, yeah. ... My recollection is not vivid of this at all, but I do think that they sent a couple of fellas off to do a bit of scavenging for something or other, and, what you had told me about the two going up to New York sort of triggered that. But, I'm not clear on that, really, at all. DB: Do you remember if your fraternity, or any others, would poke fun at, or try to get involved in, things such as the German Bund, or any Communist groups, for pranks, or jokes? JDZ: No, I don't. No, I don't. I have an awareness. I think we all had an awareness of it. When you say poke fun, yes. I think that we had our share of hilarity over things we would read about the Bund meetings, and that kind of thing. But, ... nothing, really, that I could recollect that ... would, really, suggest, you know, a strong, political kind of response to it. KP: Did most people in the fraternity read the newspapers? Many people have commented how they never got a chance to read the newspapers. JDZ: No. Well, the newspaper was expensive. ... I knew there was a newspaper out, but ... that's an interesting question, 'cause I don't think of the daily newspaper as something that was available there at the house, that some individual might have bought and, certainly, the fraternity didn't buy it. That was money. That was not a necessity. KP: Many people have mentioned Vinnie Utz, and one of the pranks he apparently did for his initiation. He did an impersonation of Hitler in front of his fraternity house as part of his pledge. JDZ: I had heard that. ... KP: Yeah, it is apparently quite infamous. JDZ: He was a Kappa Sig up at ... what was the corner of College Avenue and, what's this, George Street? ... I think the freshmen had to go up, and they had like a bell tower, and they'd go up and, "Coo-coo," on the hour, twenty-four hours a day. Fred Baser, who was on our committee could tell you. He was a Kappa Sig, and I think he was one who had to do that. Make a mental note to ask him. KP: When did you think the United States was going to go to war? Did you have any sense of that before Pearl Harbor? JDZ: Yes, I think we were all of a mind that we would be involved at some point. I mean, the German U-boat activity, and the sinking of our ships, was something we were all acutely aware of. I don't remember there being any strong feeling, on the other hand, that Roosevelt should try to spur us into ... the conflict. I know ... today it's suggested that he did things that might have speeded that process along, but I don't have any recollection, at the time, of feeling, as a student, that he was doing that. ... From the time that the Italians went into Ethiopia in 1935, I could remember in high school, you know, starting to wonder, "Where is all of this going to lead us?" Mussolini is down there, and then, ... the Hitler-Mussolini bond, and I could remember so well the Germans moving into the Sudetenland. ... You had to feel that, "Hey, there's got to be a crisis here. Somewhere along the line, the Germans have got to be stopped." KP: Your family's ancestry is German. Did you or your father have any opinions about the situation based upon that? JDZ: No, no. ... Again, I don't remember my father having any strong opinions. ... A story I could remember about my father better concerns World War I, when he went away from Altoona. They had neighbors who lived, I think, about three houses away, and this is my father now, ... and my grandparents. They had neighbors who lived three doors away, and their name was Pippert, P-I-P-P-E-R-T, and they were German. I could remember Mr. and Mrs. Pippert with a strong German accent coming down. Now, ... this was during the '30s, when I'm a kid, you know, just a young teenager. But, I could remember them coming down the street in the mid-'30s, and talking to my ... grandparents, and I ... can recall my grandparents making comment about how, I'll use the word, ridiculously ... old-country these Pipperts were. Now, again, my forebearers were German, but they'd been here for a long time. These Pipperts had come here more recently. ... I can remember my father talking about the attitude that the neighbors ... about the Pipperts being in the neighborhood and being very, very pro-German during World War I. ... Of course, my dad was on the American side. DB: What was the general reaction of the Rutgers community after the fall of France in June of 1940? JDZ: Dave, I could only say, out of my very vague memory, that it was just only one more block in the ever building road that said, "Hey, we're going to be involved in a war here, somewhere along the line." I mean, ... at the time, we were all, of course, ROTC. ... You know, it was an infantry ROTC unit, and, as a land-grant school, you all are ROTC, unless you were physically disabled. KP: You elected to stay in. JDZ: Well, I elected to stay in, but, what I was going to say is, this happened in 1940, so, we were all taking some ROTC, at that time. And then, it was at the end of the sophomore year that you had to make a decision as to whether you wanted to proceed with ROTC. ... At that point, I decided, and I honestly can't tell you why, ... I guess it was the idea that, "Well, by George, why not take advantage of the fact that I could go in as an officer, rather that taking my chances going in as an enlisted man, somewhere down the line." I think ... that feeling was heightened, I know, because, while I was in my junior year, now, I'm in advanced ROTC in my junior year in 1942, ... my number came up at home. ... I could remember a Mrs. Rossell, who sat on the draft board, being very insistent that I go into the service. I'm a student at Rutgers. ... I went down, my father and I, and argued that I'm in advanced ROTC. I'm qualified. I don't have to go in as a draftee at this point. I'd done exactly what any advanced ROTC student could do, and you could get an exemption. There wasn't anything illegal about it. KP: But, you had to put up an argument with the draft board. JDZ: Oh, yeah, yeah. ... Remember, you didn't have ... 60-70% of your high school class going off to college in those days. You had maybe 15-20% going off to college, and Mrs. Rossell ... in personality, was a very dominant kind of person in the township. ... She was a bulldog kind of person. KP: What was her role in the community? JDZ: Well, she'd served on the town council and she was a woman ... whose name was always, you know, before the public, as it were, politically. ... She gravitated toward power, and her husband was a barber; husband had a barber shop. But, she was a dominant kind of figure. KP: Was she a Republican or a Democrat? JDZ: She was a Republican. Oh, yeah. KP: And, she was on the draft board. Was she just insistent that everyone be drafted? JDZ: Well, I assume. She took the same position with everybody, had there been others, but, again, I think it was the fact that there were so few involved in advanced ROTC who came before her. I might have been the first one, and she didn't really realize that I was conforming to the letter of the law. KP: You eventually became an officer. How good was your ROTC training? How effective was it? I'm sure you probably took it more seriously your senior year, when we were already at war. JDZ: ... That's a tough one. ... I'd have to say that I think if you were to compare the ROTC training with what happened during three months of OCS at Fort Benning, Georgia, there was a night and day difference. I mean, it's one thing getting some preparation out of a book, doing some tactical movements on a map based on the fact that there's a river here, and there are woods here, and there's a hill here. That's one thing. ... I think the instructors were decent ... instructors. There was one guy, ... as a matter-of-fact, the day we had lunch, someone brought up Elmer, what's the name, Klinsman. ... He was one of these officers that was a little rooster. You think of authoritarian, boy, he was the very quintessence of authoritarianism. ... I think the instruction was probably as effective as any ROTC instruction anywhere. But, it paled into insignificance in terms of what happened at OCS, where you had field problems and very intensive preparations. KP: Without OCS, with your ROTC training alone, you would not have been able to function well as an officer. OCS, it seems, was the crucial element. JDZ: That was crucial. Oh, yeah. Yeah, very much. Yeah, ... we had some who washed out. Of course, we had to go through OCS, you know. The War Department put through a ruling in the ... fall or winter of '42, no more commissions; no more direct commissions. You went to OCS to earn your commission. So, much of us in ROTC had been inducted into the service in February, took us to Fort Dix. We became privates, but we continued to study. ... By that time, they had what they called an Army Specialized Training Unit, came here from Fort Monmouth, Signal Corps, and they were here for the instruction. ... It was a contingent of, mostly, enlisted men, but, getting training in Signal Corps work. Then, it was automatic after you graduated. We graduated in May, and then, after just a few days, we went to OCS. I wound up down at Benning, where most of our fellas went, and you were automatically made a corporal beforehand. KP: You majored in History and Political Science. When you came to Rutgers, what did you think you wanted to do? JDZ: I wanted to write. ... I went into Journalism my first year. KP: What convinced you not to go into Journalism? Why did you change your mind? JDZ: I developed ... a strong interest in foreign affairs, at the time. I thought that I wanted to, eventually, work for the State Department, get into the Diplomatic Service, get proficient in a couple of languages, and wind up as a career State Department kind of person. ... That's what led me away from Journalism. KP: I found this to be remarkable; some people cannot remember any of their professors, much less name their favorite professors. You named three professors that made a distinct impression. JDZ: Charanis, George, and Ellis. KP: What was distinctive about these professors that you remember? JDZ: Well, ... Charanis was Greek, a wonderful guy, a great sense of humor. ... Of course, quite an accent, which stays with you, you know. I think an accent, anytime, tends to attract more attention. But, he taught ... Ancient Civilizations, I guess it was called, and he was tough. I mean, he was a good taskmaster. He'd let you know if you weren't cutting the mustard, as it were. ... As I recall, he had a nice way of embarrassing you. Subtle, make you feel like you want to fall through a crack in the floor if he cited you as really not keeping abreast of what was going on, or not being able to answer a question, or unable to make some rejoinder to whatever ... subject we were discussing. Ellis was quiet, but I thought of Ellis as studious. Ellis was not someone who was easily approachable. Very intensive kind of a guy, and I respected that. You could talk to him, but he wasn't someone you felt would encourage you to come forth and talk. But, he knew his subject, let me tell you, I felt. And, ... Professor George of Political Science, I mean, he was somebody who everybody at Rutgers knew. Whether you were an engineer, chemistry major, biology, ... you knew who Professor George was. He'd get up there and he'd do a dance. He was an angular kind of a build, probably, I don't know, 5'11" or 6 foot, not real heavy, sort of a thin kind of a guy. Smiling face, you know, and ... he'd make one of these real trenchant kind of comments, politically, you know, to see what kind of a response he would get. ... You could get into some great discussions with him. Fun, you know. ... I'm not sure of this, but I would guess, that he probably drew more people, as an elective course, more students coming out of the more scientific disciplines, than any other professor at Rutgers. KP: A number of people have mentioned him. JDZ: ... "Hey, I got to take a course ... I've got to go a semester with Professor George." And, he was in local politics, as I recall. He lived outside of New Brunswick, but he was in local politics, think he ran for councilman, or something, not a big job. But, he had his finger in, as it were. ... He was a good influence, I guess, in terms of convincing you that you ought to be a participant ... in the political process, yeah. KP: And, he didn't care about which side you came down on it sounds. JDZ: I don't have any recollection ... that he really did. Now, you may get some other comments from others who feel very strongly that he was one or the other, Republican, Democrat, whatever. He was just ... Professor George. He was a good guy to have class with. KP: Do you have any recollections of Arthur Burns? JDZ: No, nope. Do not. KP: The Class of '43 entered Rutgers when America was at peace, although war was breaking out in Europe. When you arrived here, President Clothier said he hoped that the United States would not become involved. The war really transformed Rutgers, as you mentioned earlier. What were the changes that you saw? You talked about the ASTP arriving from Fort Monmouth. Many people were already inducted. What did war do to the campus? JDZ: ... The only comment that I could make in that regard, I think, is that we started to see some of our classmates, a few of our classmates, leave school and go off. I think the first one of our Class of '43 who was killed was a guy by the name of Johnny Groves, from Ocean City. And, he being from south of Trenton ... I knew John, and John went off quite early. Again, I can't tell you exactly when Kurt, ... but he was early in the game. He may have left in our junior year in '42, but he, eventually, become a tail-gunner on a B-17 Flying Fortress, and he was killed over ... in Europe. ... That's really, pretty much, the only recollection I have. I'm probably a poor interviewer, ... because my memory is hazy on lots of things. ... I was probably too immature to appreciate much that was going on, and I'm very frank about that. KP: What was the relationship between the regular Rutgers College people and the ASTP? Was there any jealousy or misunderstanding looking back upon it? JDZ: I don't recall any. ... They probably had some misgivings, being around a bunch of college students, but I don't recall there ever being any outbreak of real feeling, hostility. ... Don't have any recollection at all of any particular act or event. KP: You were inducted as a private when the war broke out. JDZ: Well, not when the war broke out. KP: Well, shortly after. JDZ: Yeah, that was in February of, actually, '43. Yeah. KP: Did you draw a private's allotment, at that point? JDZ: Yeah, oh, yeah. It seemed like a strange kind of existence, really, ... to be taken to Dix and inducted, and yet, being able to continue until May. KP: Were you expected to wear your uniform? JDZ: Oh, yeah. KP: So, you wore your uniform to class every day. JDZ: Oh, yeah. KP: To what degree, after February of 1943, were you a student and to what degree were you a private? Would you, for example, have morning roll call? JDZ: No, you just wore your uniform and went to class. KP: And, you went to your regular ROTC training then. Had the war changed it in any way? JDZ: Not that I recall. KP: There was not a difference between 1940-1941 and 1942-1943, in the terms of the training. JDZ: I don't remember that there was, no. DB: What can you say about your training at Camp Gruber, Oklahoma? JDZ: I was not at Camp Gruber. The 88th Division was activated at Camp Gruber. The 88th Division had been in World War I, so, they were re-activated at Camp Gruber. I went over as a replacement, so, I had nothing to do with Gruber. Now, I came into contact with a lot of men, when I got to Italy, who had been at Gruber. I mean, all kinds of stories. As a matter-of-fact, several of the fellows had married Oklahoma girls around from the Muskogee area. But, I was not at Gruber. I went from Fort Benning, OCS, in September of '43, to Camp Croft, South Carolina. ... The orders came through, and some went to McClellan, some went to Croft, some went to half a dozen different places. Well, I wound up at Camp Croft, an infantry replacement training center. Thirteen-week cycle, and then, [makes a "Zip" sound] overseas. Tough. ... Later, in going through two-cycles there, training, two cycles of new draftees, I only met one of the men whom I had had in a cycle in my training platoon at Camp Croft. I only ever met one in Italy. You never know where these fellows went. ... They went over and God knows how many were killed, or wounded, or whatever. KP: I want to back up and take you back to Fort Benning. You described that training as being very crucial. JDZ: Well, it was. ... First of all, you had to be impressed with the discipline in the staff and in the administration, the logistics. ... Coming from a sort of loose administration, as a college, young man, and going down there and seeing, boy, everything done. At 10:00, this was done, at 11:00, this was done, at 12:00, this was done, and, boy, you had to be impressed because it was like that. There wasn't any kidding about it. If you had a field problem, ... you're out there in formation, and, you know, you didn't question that. Hey, listen, I want to be an officer, and, when I was there, they were graduating about one hundred seventy-five new ... infantry second-lieutenants every other day. I gotta tell you, if I can digress, a little story. KP: No, please, go ahead. JDZ: One of the things that sticks in my head that has nothing to do with discipline, only the extent that you had a little bit of time between chow, dinner chow, and compulsory study hall at 7:00, and it was compulsory. You had, maybe, depending on how fast you ate, maybe you had twenty, twenty-five minutes, something like that, and it was perfectly natural to get out and, you know, just wander, small groups, ... down the company street. You had the next row of barracks over here, that was the class that was going to graduate three days ahead of you, or two days ahead, and your class, and then, the next barracks over here, that line of barracks, they were going to graduate two days after you, with another bunch of infantry lieutenants. ... So, it happened that in the barracks next to us, there was a candidate who had a lot of notoriety as a football player. His name was Bob Waterfield. He married Jane Russell. Now, Jane Russell may not mean a thing to you, but Jane Russell was a very beauteous, curvaceous actress. ... She was beautiful. She really was, and she made several movies. Anyways, this movie star winds up marrying Bob Waterfield, and he was a UCLA football ... star, and he's in this next barracks. Well, ... it was a lot of fun, actually, to walk down the end of the company street and Jane Russell would come. She was living down there to be close to him. I mean, he wasn't living with her. There was no way he could live with her. He could be with her weekends, but he wasn't living with her. They were married, but she'd drive over. She had a powder-blue, Packard convertible. You probably don't know what a Packard is. Well, it was ... an elegant, expensive automobile. Distinctive. And, it was powder-blue, that made it more distinctive. And, it was a convertible. She'd ride over ... there and park at the end of his company street. Well, that was ... only sixty, seventy yards away. ... You could get yourself, you know, a good view of Jane Russell every night to boost your spirits. And, Bob would ... come down and, you know, they'd chat, and then, when he had to go to compulsory study hall, like all of us, "Zip," back we'd go, compulsory study hall, and she'd drive off. ... It was one of those simple treats. And, I remember, God, Georgia peaches, I could remember the damn hard peaches. They were like baseballs. ... It seemed to me that every dinner meal, we had a Georgia peach. That was ... a dessert. There was some great guys, and I oft times wonder what happened to all these guys ... in my barracks. KP: Where did they come from? JDZ: Well, it was interesting, Kurt, in that our OCS class was composed, about 98%, of other ROTC groups. They came from, and you start spouting out the names, we had 'em from Syracuse, Washington State, Creighton, Oklahoma, it was then Oklahoma A&M, it's now Oklahoma State, but then, it was Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical. As a matter-of-fact, ... we were assigned bunks alphabetically, and my name, being a Z, I was right down at the very end. There were no Z's after me, and the fellow who bunked next to me was a Young. Tracy Young was his name. He was ... mild-mannered, ... he came from Oklahoma A&M. As a matter-of-fact, ... he was the NCAA light heavyweight wrestling champ that year. Very mild-mannered guy, weighed about 175 lbs., tough as nails, and quiet. ... It was close knit, ... and that was your platoon. That was your training platoon. When we go on a problem, and you were out in the field on problems all the time; that's what made it so valuable, really, the field problems. ... If you weren't doing marksmanship and becoming proficient in putting a ... M-1 together and disassembling it, or a machine gun, or a mortar, whatever, then, ... you were out doing marksmanship. You were out, you were on the range becoming familiar with all the weapons, from a .45 caliber pistol right up to, as I say, .81mm mortars. The field problems were great. They had these great big vans for transportation. Big, long van, and ... two benches would run the length of the vans, and you'd get in there and you'd sit astride the benches, on your way to these problems. Now, the Harmony Church area, Fort Benning is big. I mean, Fort Benning is not a thousand acres, Fort Benning is thousands and thousands of acres, and you've got all kinds of terrain which, again, made it so valuable in your training. And, you'd go out on a field problem and then you'd maneuver, you know, whatever. Maybe it was a squad maneuver, a platoon maneuver, and then, you'd get a chance, you'd be the squad leader one time, you'd just be one of the members of the squad another time, or you'd be the platoon guide. It was in those days, in the table of organization, you had to have a platoon guide. ... You were called on for the different tasks, and then, to learn what that particular task called for. I can remember compass ... problems, particularly those at night. You had to cross all kinds of terrain. You'd run a course, and, in order to pass that test, you'd have to come out within about thirty or forty yards of a stake that was driven in the road. ... In the interim, you're leaving a point back here along one road, and you're going to cross all kinds of terrain, woods, hills, streams, whatever, ... to see how well you could read and follow a compass at night. ... That was one of the more complex problems, and you had to pass that thing. ... If you didn't pass, you had another shot at it. ... If you didn't pass it, ... it was a demerit. You get enough demerits, then you washed out. Either you're pushed back five weeks to another class, or you're washed out totally. ... All of that was in the hands of what they called a tactical officer. Each platoon had a tactical officer. Now, these were officers ... who had been through OCS themselves. ... They were tough, but they were also sympathetic. They'd been ... candidates, and they give you a lot of good guidance, and, for the most part, were ... good leaders. KP: You mentioned that people washed out. How many did wash out? How many from your platoon, in particular? Did any wash out from your platoon? JDZ: I can't. ... Our company was probably, at the outset, ... about two hundred men, and I couldn't tell you how many. I don't remember, I'd have to look at my certificate to see how many graduated. ... We got a certificate ... KP: But, you knew that people washed out? JDZ: Well, I knew, from the Rutgers gang, ... I think there were twenty-two of us who wound up down there from Rutgers, I believe, and I'm not absolutely sure of that, and, I think, five either were pushed back or washed out completely. ... I can't verify that for sure. ... I think there were seventeen of us who graduated from Benning. Nine of the seventeen were killed. Three of us wound up in, this is Rutgers now, ... Italy, each in a different division. ... Bill Pillion wound up in the 91st Division. Harry Young wound up in the 85th, and he was killed, and I wound up in the 88th. Now, ... I'm sure in each instance, because of the length of time ... well, I'm not absolutely sure. I was going to say each one of us probably went across as replacement officers, but I'm not absolutely sure about that. I could be wrong. KP: A number of people that I have talked to in my interviews tried to avoid the infantry and tried to avoid the Army. JDZ: I didn't have the good sense to do that. I didn't have the good sense to ... do that. No, I can't make any comment. ... I will tell you this. The pride I feel, being in the infantry, you'll never know. I mean, ... I feel so fortunate to be alive. That's the beginning, and I'm not trying to be dramatic. ... It wasn't nice. But, having been there, and back here, I can say, "Boy, I've seen it, and you can't tell me a thing. I know what it is, and don't ever try to make me swallow something." Don't put me in a room with some BSer who's going to tell me how it was from the rear somewhere, because it can't be done. You were there. ... I think every infantryman feels that way. Hell, they take 70% of the casualties. ... They fight the war. ... That isn't to take anything away from the engineers, or the artillery men, or whatever. ... I ought to shut up. But, I feel a great deal of allegiance to the ... KP: The infantry. JDZ: To the infantry. ... Yeah, there's nothing like it, because, you know, you live like a dog. You live like an absolute dog. That's part of it, I mean, just the arduous kind of way of living. Being wet, being cold, hoping that there's something to eat. We went through one stretch, one stretch of about three weeks, on K-rations, nothing but K-rations. ... That gets a little tiring, wearing, and then, eat when you can, hope that you might be able to get something warm, ... heat those K-rations somewhat. I'm not trying to over-dramatize. I'm just trying to tell you what is. And, thank God, I wasn't there the winter of '42-'43, before the Cassino Abbey was taken. ... That was absolute hell. It was bad enough for us trying to get through the Gothic Line. KP: No, I want to move on to Italy soon. JDZ: ... Well, I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. KP: No need to apologize. I know you were very busy in training, but, did you ever get out into Georgia and see any of Georgia when you were in training? JDZ: No. Oh, no. ... One of the first messages you got as a candidate was, "Don't venture off the post unless you absolutely have to." -----------------------------------------END SIDE TWO TAPE ONE------------------------------------------- KP: ... This continues an interview with J. Domer Zerbe on November 16, 1994 at Rutgers University, with Kurt Piehler ... DB: ...and David Brown. KP: Just continue, please. JDZ: Well, you asked about seeing some of rural Georgia, and I indicated very strongly that there were a couple good reasons why we didn't. The parachute school was at Fort Benning and paratroopers have a tough name, as you well know. They were tough, and they were taught to be tough. ... If you ventured over, for example, across the Chattahoochee River to Phoenix City, Alabama, on a Saturday night, you'd be amongst five thousand paratroopers. ... We were told right off that, "If you were wearing an OCS symbol, some of those paratroopers would like nothing better than to get involved and get you embroiled ... in some kind of a fracas, and "Boom," you're washed out." I mean, there wasn't any (aye, yes, or no?) about that. ... So, we stayed away from Phoenix City and, certainly, stayed away from Columbus, Georgia, the closest town. ... KP: So, you really stayed on base, pretty much. JDZ: Oh, yes. And, I can't recall anybody who, to my knowledge, ever ventured into any of those towns in the thirteen weeks we were there. Phoenix City, that was a rip-roaring, you know, lots of brothels, and street walkers, and it was a wide-open kind of a town. A paratrooper kind of town, you know. [laughter] KP: You have created quite a figure for the paratroopers. Did you ever have any contact with them at the base? JDZ: No, never did, and never did subsequently, either. Since the war I have. ... I have a close acquaintance who was a paratrooper, but, no, I had absolutely none, absolutely none. We had no paratroopers in Italy. German paratroopers, yes, fought them, but not ours. So, we didn't see anything in Georgia other than the Fort Benning base, Harmony Church area. KP: You were in infantry school, and I get the sense that you were not quite sure what you were getting into. What theater did you hope to get assigned to? JDZ: Well, ... if I had any preference at all, it would have been to go to Europe rather than the Pacific. The Pacific seemed so damn far away, and, of course, ... I wasn't destined for the Marine Corps. You knew dag-gone well that they were going to have to be making the initial tough landings, and island-hopping across the Pacific. ... I certainly expected to get overseas, somewhere along the line, and I'd rather it be Europe. ... I certainly had no predilection that I was going to go to Italy. I figured, "Well, ... I'd go over to England, and then, eventually, join an outfit in France." But, it didn't happen that way. KP: You mentioned that after you graduated at Fort Benning, you were transferred to Camp Croft. JDZ: Croft ... just outside Spartanburg, South Carolina. ... It was an infantry replacement training center. There were a number of, we called them IRTCs, in those days, and that's where a lot of OCS people would go, initially. Now, some would wind up joining a division in the States and get more training. ... A division might well be on maneuvers and I'm sure some of our fellows wound up that way. KP: But, you wound up as a replacement. JDZ: Yeah, there were, I think, ... three or four of us, from my class, who went to ... Croft. And then, you'd join a training battalion and there was, like, a table of organization that the infantry would follow, but ... they were training platoons. KP: In other words, you would be broken up after your eleven weeks. JDZ: Oh, yeah. Thirteen, the cycle was thirteen, and then, they eventually expanded it to seventeen weeks. And then, those men ... they're gone. God knows where they went, to the winds, to go somewhere, again, ... as a replacement, just like I wound up doing later. I went through two cycles down there. KP: This was your first independent Army leadership position. What was it like to command a unit? What did you learn and what was your relationship with your sergeant? JDZ: Well, we had, in each training platoon, ... a buck sergeant and we had a corporal, and I remember very well, the both of these fellows were Italian. ... As a matter-of fact, they were both from New Jersey, North Jersey. The corporal ... was a football player from the University of Tennessee. ... I think he'd gone down there for two years, and then, subsequently, he's inducted in the service. ... He was tough. I mean, he was tough, but he was fun. I guess ... I quickly learned ... being an officer, you don't just throw your weight around. ... Anyone has that idea, it's misshapen, that you simply come in and, all of a sudden, you're the big honcho. That's for the birds. Anybody does that has got to be off of their noggin. The relationship that an enlisted man, like a sergeant, has with his platoon is an entirely different relationship than an officer has with a platoon. In a sense, even in the training platoon, your non-coms are closer to the men. ... They can do things, they can say things that an officer doesn't, or won't ... or shouldn't, right. You communicate, basically, through your NCOs, your non-coms. And, as I said, there were two in each platoon. The sergeant ... these guys were both young. I mean, they were both in their ... early twenties. KP: Was your sergeant in the regular Army? JDZ: No, no, no ... neither of these guys were regular Army. No, none of these people were regular Army. ... Company commander we had, the captain, he was in ROTC from probably, Class of, like, '41, out of some college. As a matter-of-fact, he was a Virginia Tech ... graduate and he'd already made captaincy. He hadn't been overseas. He hadn't been anywhere. I mean, ... he'd been in the States, doing ... the same thing I was doing. No, none of those people were regular Army. We had a battalion commander ... a little guy by the name of Ruby from the State of Massachusetts, and ... he was, probably, National Guard. He hadn't been overseas, ... but, he was a lieutenant colonel. He liked ... all the young officers' wives. ... Oh, he got along great, 'cause, he was a guy about forty-years old, and if you had an affair, like a dance, you know, a weekend dance, boy, he loved to dance with the young officers' wives, those who were married, you know. [laughter] ... Anyway, the NCOs, they were good. They were proficient. ... I remember, we had one guy in our platoon in the first cycle. He was from New York City, and he was what we called a screw up. I mean, ... everybody else in the platoon could do it right, and he'd screw you up. Well, you get to a point where you say, "Hey, enough of this nonsense. I mean, my reputation's at stake, too. This is a bunch of crap." So, what do you do with this guy? ... You try to reason with him, and so forth. ... I could remember, after a particular inspection, the corporal I mentioned to you, who was the football player from Tennessee, he came to me, said, "Lieutenant, ... we got to do something with this guy." I'm not going to mention his name. "But, we have to do something with him." ... This fella who was messing us up, the platoon, big, big burly guy, but, he was fighting the Army system, pure and simple. ... I said to this corporal, "Yeah, we do." ... This guy says to me, "I'll take care of it, Lieutenant. Do you want me to take care of it?" "Yep, you take care of it." Well, he took care of it. I mean, he gave the guy a little bit of a thrashing. He didn't take him out and beat him half to death, but he worked him over a little bit and he straightened the guy out. He straightened him out. ... Maybe the guy was fearful of getting more, I don't know. But, he became a better soldier. KP: In other words, he finished. JDZ: Oh, yeah, that was fine. That worked all right. It might not work in another case, who knows? But, ... you were dependent on an NCO to do that ... kind of thing. I reprimanded the guy, you know, verbally, but that doesn't necessarily cut the mustard. I remember, on a training session at Camp Croft, I did something, if it was a rainy day, you had an indoor ... I mean, you always had an alternative training program scheduled, in the event of rain. So, this was conducted in the barracks. Now, I had my platoon and ... we were on a map reading exercise. This was another New Yorker, from somewhere in New York City, and I remember we had a break, for ten minutes say, and I happened to be standing by the water fountain. This guy, I saw spit in the water fountain. Well, I can't tell you how I reacted to that. I said, "How in the hell could a human being with any sense go to a water fountain and spit?" Hell, he had a men's room he could go to in the barracks, and I grabbed him, he wasn't a big guy, I grabbed him by the back of the neck, and I pulled him away. ... I remember his name, his name was Goetz. I says, "Goetz, what in the hell are you doing?" And, he looked at me in bewilderment. "What do you mean what am I doing?" I said, "I saw you just spit in that water fountain. ... Do you think that's the thing to do?" And, I don't remember, ... I guess he became apologetic, but I often wondered to myself, "My God, maybe he didn't know any better." ... I should not have grabbed him the way I did. I mean, that was verboten, but I did it. ... They were good guys ... for the most part, ... and they were all from mid-Atlantic states and New England. ... KP: So, you didn't have any southerners in your platoon that you could remember off hand. JDZ: No, I don't. I remember a guy from Maine who was a real good soldier. ... He was in his mid-thirties. He was no young guy. You know, by the time you were thirty-eight, ... you could avoid military service, and this fellow had to be, ... I suspect he was in his ... mid-thirties. His name was Soule, S-O-U-L-E. He was a woodsman from northern Maine, and he was a guy that wanted to be exact. He wanted to do everything right. He wanted to please, but he was tough. ... He was a pleasure to be with, because you knew he was anxious to learn, he was going to do his best, and, hell, we all respond to that sort of thing. ... I had a fellow from West Virginia, I mean a real Appalachian chap, probably low education, and when I say that, I'm not denigrating, please, when I say low education. A lot of these guys could do a million things I couldn't do, and I came to appreciate that when I got overseas, even the more. But, he was very courteous and always wanting to, you know, one of the things they tell you in the service is don't volunteer. I mean, if you got any brains at all, don't ever volunteer for anything. You get tapped, but don't volunteer. And, I could remember this chap, again, he was a guy in his mid-thirties, and ... he would volunteer. ... I don't know, maybe he thought he was polishing the apple. I don't know, I really didn't give it a lot of thought. He just seemed to be one nice guy who learned growing up that you pitch in, you do your part. ... Only ever seeing one of those guys ... overseas always bothered me a little bit, because ... when I got my orders to go overseas, I thought, "Well, ... I'll wind up ... seeing a few people that had been in training platoons." Only one. KP: You went through two cycles. When did you get your orders to go overseas? Was it while you were in the middle of a training cycle? JDZ: No, it was, as I recall, at the end of a cycle. It was between ... cycles. Got the orders in, oh, some time in, I think it was June 2 or 3, 1944. Now, remember, Normandy landing was June 6, and ... my oldest son was born in Spartanburg. He was born in ... November of '43, and my wife, of course, then, we had an apartment on the north end of Spartanburg, and I was home lots of nights, but then, if we were out bivouacking and training, ... I wasn't home. KP: How did you meet your wife? JDZ: Well, she was a high school student. KP: From Mount Holly? JDZ: High school, yeah. KP: And, you married before you went into the service? JDZ: Married before, right, yeah, I married while I was a senior at Rutgers. ... KP: Did the war hasten your decision to marry? JDZ: Yeah, I guess it did. KP: Because. you could have just postponed until after the war. JDZ: Yeah, I guess it did. I was truly in love, and still am. No, ... my wife was one of two children and we'd gone through school together, and I never really paid any attention to her until about junior year of high school, and then, I knew she existed, because we'd all gone through pretty much school together from elementary school on up. ... Senior year of high school came along and we both were aspiring thespians and she winds up getting the female lead in the senior play and I wind up getting the male lead, and that sort of drew us closer together. ... KP: And, she followed you to Fort Benning? JDZ: Oh, no. ... Oh, God no. ... KP: But, through Spartanburg she did? JDZ: Yeah, when I got down to Spartanburg, when I got ... to Camp Croft, then I made it my business, as fast as I could, to try to find a place for us to live. ... Somebody gave me a tip to go to this northern end of Spartanburg. As a matter-of-fact, it was outside the city limit up on Route 29, which is the main road north-south in those days. There was no Interstate 85. And, family there by the name of Flow, F-L-O-W. ... Mrs. Flow was from Buffalo, New York, and she married this man by the name of Lennox, Lennox Flow, and he was a Spartanburg resident. I don't know how they ever got together, but ... she ran the household. ... They altered their house a little bit, and they actually had three small apartments. So, the three small apartments were occupied by two other guys like me, young officers out at the base, but we were the only ones that had a child. KP: So, in a sense, you experienced several different worlds. You were in the Army, but you understood the civilian world at the same time. JDZ: Yeah, yeah. KP: Do you consider yourself lucky to get an apartment because apartments were very scarce? JDZ: Very, very lucky. Yes, absolutely, we were. And, Mrs. Flow was sort of ... a surrogate mother to ... both of us. My mother came down from Mount Holly at the time our son was born, and stayed for, I think, about three weeks with my wife. ... The people, my wife even speaks to this day about how cordial the nurses were. You know, as you were saying earlier, we didn't have the mobility in those days. Southerners were southerners, northerners were northerners and you didn't have all this flow back and forth. The war came along and, of course, then it started. But, my wife comments that those, the local nurses in the hospital there at Spartanburg were just so obliging, ... so caring. It didn't make any difference where she came from. KP: What other memories do you have of living in Spartanburg, both you and your wife? JDZ: Well, getting out on a Saturday night. [laughter] ... Remember now, you're close to an Army base. So, on a weekend night, you got thousands of guys coming off the base, wanting to get a little bit of a social life, you know, go out, have a couple of beers, or look for some women, you know. ... Anything to get away from the base. ... You quickly learned that if you went downtown, what we called downtown, down in the center of Spartanburg, with your wife on a Saturday night, or, well, more so a Friday, or Saturday night, hell, all you were doing was this. You were saluting. ... Your arm would fall off. I mean, these were new inductees into the service and they were told, "Hey, you see an officer, you salute." [laughter] ... So, your life was, I found, rather private. What we did, socially, was done with the officers and their wives who lived in the apartment, the other apartments where we lived there. We'd get together for, you know, dinner, or play cards, and, usually, they'd come to us, because we had the child. We had the baby. DB: Was there a lot of card playing on the base? JDZ: Well, yes, I imagine. Yeah, I guess so. I'm talking now about card playing back in the apartment. I'm not talking about out on the base, Dave. Did you misunderstand that? DB: No. JDZ: Okay. I'm sure there was a lot of card playing, sure, in the barracks. Oh, Lord, yes. And, gambling. Oh, yeah. KP: You had access to the PX, but your wife was a civilian. Did you experience any of the civilian rationing? JDZ: I rarely used it. I didn't use the PX for much. KP: So, when your wife was at home, you depended on rations? JDZ: She and I would shop weekends and, occasionally, we'd go over to Camp Croft to the PX, but not very often. We'd go into Spartanburg and do our ... KP: Do your shopping? JDZ: ... Basic food shopping, yeah. KP: Was rationing a problem? Is there anything you particularly remember about dealing with coupons? I'd be curious to hear what your wife would have to say. [laughter] JDZ: I'd jump ahead to my story if I told you. Now, I don't want to do that because that comes after the war. Well, you were cognizant that so many things were being rationed. ... Yet, I don't recall that there was anything that I missed from my life that I ... wanted so badly that I couldn't have. Obviously, gasoline was rationed and all I needed, I mean, I had this little, I told you, 1936 Coupe, that I'd had here. Well, I took it to Camp Croft. So, I had a car. That was to go in and out from the apartment out to the base, what, seven or eight miles each way, each day, if I wasn't on a training exercise out there. Then, the car would stay out parked on the base. My wife didn't drive, so she's home. She planted a garden, a vegetable garden. She's a flower woman to begin with. She's got tremendous horticulture knowledge. So, she planted a garden, and, I mean, caring for the baby filled in her time pretty well. [laughter] KP: I could imagine. JDZ: Yeah, but ... there was certainly enough gas to get me back and forth, and ... I mean, there were never any trips to go over to the Smokies some weekend. You just didn't do it. ... You were confined to Spartanburg environments, yeah. The social life, as I say was pretty much right there, ... at the Flow family residence. I remember Mrs. Flow ... she had one son, and he was in the 30th Division, and they were on maneuvers somewhere, and she'd keep us abreast of how ... he was doing. ... I could remember her, you know, saying, "Oh, boy, I hope they don't go overseas, yet," or whatever. Eventually, he got overseas, but, by that time, ... we'd gone. Well, I got orders to go overseas around the 2nd or 3rd of June. We packed up the car and started up Route 29. ... We must have started up Route 29 ... I guess, early in the morning, the 5th of June, and we drove all night. Remember ... what a Coupe ... looks like, ...with a ... space like that in the back of the seats, and had a wicker basket and the baby in the basket, and I remember coming into the outskirts of Washington, DC, and here were newsboys out on the street, selling the newspapers. Normandy invasion. ... Oh, boy, ...finally, it is here. So, we went back to Mount Holly, and ... my wife and the baby stayed with my parents. ... The orders were to go to Fort Meade, Maryland. That was preparatory to going to port of embarkation, which turned out to be Newport News, Virginia. ... When you got to Fort Meade, you had no way of knowing when you were going to go. You just knew you were going to go overseas. It was day by day by day by day. ... As it turned out, I got home each weekend, if I lasted up to a weekend, and the orders didn't come to go overseas. ... KP: You'd go back to Mount Holly. JDZ: Go back to Mount Holly from Fort Meade, Maryland. Actually, I did that twice. And then, ... the order came. Again, each time you'd leave Mount Holly, you'd say, "Hey, I don't know whether I'm going to see you again or not. I mean, this is bye-bye." So, then, we left from Newport News, and went across on an ... Army transport. ... We were part of a convoy. There must have been ... forty, fifty ships in that convoy. ... I had gotten a promotion. I got a promotion from second to first lieutenant about three weeks, as I remember, before I got my orders to go overseas. There were four officers assigned to a cabin, and that was a luxury. If you'd seen the way the enlisted men were packed in the holds, six bunks high. ... God, you got to feel sorry for people who are being packed in there like they were ... sardines. And, they were here, these canvas bunks, ... six high. And, once a day, at least once a day, you were required to go down, and you were assigned, when you got on the ship, you were assigned to a certain number of men down there, to go check on those men at least once every day, to make sure that illness was taken care of, ... they were getting food, and there was a lot of sea-sickness. God, and that made it terrible, because the odor down there in the hold, ... you know how perspiration starts to permeate a room. Well, here's this confined hold and I don't know how many men there were down there, but hundreds and hundreds and hundreds, and each officer had to go down and see about X-number of men. ... I don't know, I think I was responsible for twenty or thirty men. ... A lot of them were sick. I didn't feel so great myself, but we were up there in the lap of luxury, up on the level of the main deck, four to a cabin. ... It was uneventful. You know, you spent your days out leaning against the rail, most of the time, hoping that ... there's not some submarine out there ... and we had destroyer escorts. They'd race around the perimeter of the convoy all the time. KP: So, you had no fear of the submarines? JDZ: ... Fear? Well, I say, oh, yeah, we had some apprehension about submarines. KP: But, you never had any real contact? JDZ: No, no. ... The convoys were composed of small Liberty ships. I mean, the only big ships that were fast enough that could outrun a submarine were the one's who went by themselves, in those days. Everything else was in convoy. A lot of Liberty ships. I came back on a Liberty ship. ... Took us fourteen days to get from Newport News over to ... Naples. KP: You were sent to Italy. What did you think the fighting would be like before you got over there? What were your thoughts of being sent over to Italy as a replacement? Did you have any thoughts at the time? JDZ: Well, I knew it was mountains. I knew it was one mountain after another. ... I didn't particularly care for that. I mean, I knew that was going to be tough. Not that it turns out to be any tougher than fighting ... through hedgerows. Maybe it was not tougher. ... I knew it wasn't going to be a picnic. KP: Would you have preferred to go to France? JDZ: No, not in retrospect, no. ... I had apprehensions. I had concerns about how it would be to get into a rifle company where there'd already been experience. Obviously, you're moving in as a replacement. How are you going to conduct yourself? ... Who's going to continue to give the orders here? ... Anyway, I wound up going to ... they had, in Italy, a huge replacement depot. It was called the Dairy Farm. It was Count Ciano, who was Mussolini's son-in-law, and, this was south of Naples, and it was a huge complex. This was where ... everybody who went to Italy, as a replacement, funneled through the Dairy Farm. You reported in, I mean, there was transport right at the dock at Naples, you know, to take you to the Dairy Farm. And then, from the Dairy Farm, ... you were assigned to a large tent with a bunch of other guys, and you stayed there until the order came for you to go north and join some outfit. So, yeah, everybody felt a great deal of apprehension. "Where am I going? Who am I going to be with?" ... You knew the conduct of the war. At that stage, Rome had been taken. Rome was taken the same day as the Normandy landing, June 6. They finally got to Rome. And then, the Germans had retreated to ... not a strong line, but another line south of Florence. And, I joined, it was fortunate in retrospect, ... the 88th Division, at a time, when the activity was kind of light. They knew that the Gothic Line existed between Florence and Bologna, which is a distance of, what, forty miles? And that's where the next German strong line of resistance was, the Gothic Line. You know, they'd already penetrated how many lines in Germany, up to that point, three or four? Kesselring ... was a master in setting up. It's probably hard to appreciate how very few men could hold up a whole battalion, when you've got the advantage of height, when you're on top of a mountain, and you're looking down. ... You see, your whole element of surprise, first of all, is taken from you. You got to depend upon night attack, ... usually, if you're going to be successful, all other things being equal. It didn't take much, by way of German resistance, to hold up, you know, for hours or for days, you know, depending on the situation. They had the whole element of ... advantage on their side, in terms of where they were placed, ... a number of strong points across the entire Italian Peninsula. So, anyway, I felt, if I get to an outfit, I'll ... try to be a decent ... officer and take it sort of easy, depending on whatever situation I meet. Well, I got assigned to the 88th Division. I report to division headquarters, and then, I wait a couple of hours, and they send me to the Second Battalion headquarters. Now, I told you, there's not a lot of activity at that point. They were in a static position. We were ... probably thirty miles or so south of the Arno River, south of Florence, which is on the Arno. ... The activity was quiet. ... From the Second Battalion, then they sent me over to E Company. E Company was led by, at that point, Captain Harwood. He was a Hoosier from Indiana. Kind of a gruff guy, maybe three or four years older than I. He was a guy in his twenties and, hell, I'm only, what, twenty-two? ... He says, "Okay, I'm going to assign you to the first platoon, rifle platoon. ... They haven't had an officer for some time." I don't know what he told me, a matter of weeks, ... probably the better part of, maybe, a month or so. ... He said, "They got a tech sergeant who is a hell of a soldier." ... "As a matter-of-fact," he says, "he's in for the DSC, Distinguished Service Cross," which he subsequently got for some sort of action ... previous to this. And, he was a young guy. He was of Ukrainian descent by birth. ... So, I think what Harwood was trying to tell me was, "Hey, I'm going to put you in there. You're inexperienced. You go over there and, you know, don't try to be the head honcho right off the bat. ... Just learn a little bit from this guy." I could remember going over and joining him. The sergeant had the platoon headquarters and it was a wee, small town. There must of been, oh, I don't know, a typical little Italian village, you know, with a bunch of connected, like, row houses, and ... one of these houses was platoon headquarters. And, I went in, introduced myself, and the sergeant was there with a runner. ... So, we started to talk. ... I'm not sure his acceptance was all that positive of me. And, I don't blame him. But, as I think about it, you know, ... he didn't sit back and say, "What the hell are you doing here?" But, ... he probably had thoughts in his mind, "Well, why is the company commander sending this guy to me? I mean, we've been doing fine. We're getting along all right." ... The platoon wasn't up to strength. There wasn't any platoon up to strength. You know, instead of having forty guys in the rifle platoon, there were probably, maybe, thirty. ... So, we chatted a little bit, and I asked him, "Well, ... where's the platoon? What's the situation? Give me the picture of what the situation is, because we're not pushing. We're in a static position." Well, he takes me out and we go around in back of these houses. ... There's a little sporadic rifle and machine-gun fire off in the distance some place. And, running out from the back of this little village was a sort of a spur ... more like a peninsula of woods. ... He said, "What we do at night, ... right after dark, ... I've been sending a reinforced rifle squad out there." He said, "Reinforced to the tune of another BAR." That's a Browning Automatic Rifle. Each rifle squad has a Browning Automatic Rifle. ... He'd put two BARs in the same reinforced; that's why he called it reinforced squad. I don't know, there must of been maybe twelve, thirteen guys. ... He says, "That's really all. We go out there and we stay all night, just in case of patrol activity, and then, right before day break, ... pull them back." So, that was my introduction, and that was a good introduction, because it was not in the midst of some hectic, loud, active battle going on. We stayed there, I guess, ... a week or so. And then, we moved again and the movement, again, was not anything fierce. ... As I said, the Germans were in retreat and they were going back to the next line, the Gothic Line, which was up there about twelve miles above Florence. So, it was a good introduction. ... They pulled us out of the line, pulled our division out of the line, and sent us over to just outside of Pisa, the Leaning Tower, and we stayed there and we trained. We were off-line now and there was very little going on, in terms of actual combat. The 88th Division was out of the line and every other day you got the chance to go over to the south end of Leghorn, Livorno, and swim in the Mediterranean. This was during the hot summer of 1944. Livorno Harbor had been literally, totally destroyed. You couldn't get any kind of a vessel in there. ... A lot of these seaside villas ... lovely homes that the Italians had ... lived in, I guess, during the summer months, ... like we would go to a seashore resort here. ... Of course, they were gone. There were no civilians around at that point. So, we go over and ... go into one of these seaside houses, or two, or take as many as you want, and take off all your clothes and go out and swim in the Mediterranean for an hour or so. That was recreation if you weren't training. Otherwise, we were having platoon and company training. And then, you had a little time off. I remember going into Pisa and spending a day. KP: One of the things I have talked about with people, and other scholars who have studied this, was that it was very hard for replacements to form bonds. JDZ: Right, right. KP: Being rotated off the line, did this help you, and other replacements, adjust and mesh with the unit? JDZ: Yes, yes, no question about it. ... I mean, like you, I have read so many instances of replacements being tossed in. I don't know whether you saw, just this past week, I know our PBS Channel showed the Battle of the Bulge ... KP: No, but I've heard that from people I've interviewed. JDZ: ... And, he was talking about replacements just being thrown in and they don't even know ... the name of the guy, and then, assigned to a platoon, and the next thing you know, they're KIA. And then, the platoon sergeant doesn't even know their name, or remember their name. No, ... it was very fortunate in that regard, very, because of the, really, quiet kind of activity. But, we knew, ... of course, that we were getting ready to prepare for the Gothic Line, and that was not going ... to be a simple situation. And then, you wondered, "Jeez, well, the Germans have already pulled back out of Florence and they haven't destroyed the city. I know we had some thoughts, a little bit earlier, "My God, are the Germans were going to blow all the bridges over the Arno, and are they going to destroy the marvelous ... art treasures," and that kind of thing in Florence, which they did not, thank God. So, they pulled into their line, the Gothic Line, and it was quiet, as far as our division was concerned, and as far as most of the divisions. The activity, then, ... it just stayed quiet, until about September. ... The 88th Division was held in reserve. When September rolled around, in the first effort, the 85th, the 91st, and the 34th were all going to make first, with the 88th Division in reserve. And then, the 88th, ... wherever one of those three divisions could make a real penetration, the 88th was going to funnel in and attempt to follow up. So, we got involved about ... September 15, or so, and it ... just got progressively tougher as we moved through the forward division. The division we moved through was the 85th, and they had already taken some ... of the primary hills. You know, all the mountains are named in Italy, and they had already taken a couple of theirs, but they had not ... taken the objective in some others, so, bingo, in we come. And, it just got tougher and tougher. After only a week, or ten days, or so, the company commander ... ordered me to take the weapons platoon. "Leave the rifle platoon and take the weapons platoon." Now, our company strength, at that point, was probably two-thirds of what a company should be. Remember, ... the Italian Campaign was ... supposed to be a holding campaign. And, in September, that same September where we were making our effort now, you see, the Seventh Army had gone into southern France under General Patch, and they were moving from southern France up ... we'll call it kind of a flanking kind of move. ... ------------------------------------------END TAPE TWO SIDE ONE------------------------------------------ KP: ... You were saying that you were transferred out of this platoon. JDZ: From rifle platoon to weapons platoon. Now, I've got a section of machine guns and three 60mm mortars. ... How do you say it, you know? Instead of guys carrying rifles, you got men carrying either pistols or carbines, but there you got three squads, you get three mortars in that section, and you've got ... two light, air-cooled machine guns. It was a good bunch. I mean they were ... great guys. Again, they were experienced and they had good sergeants. As a matter-of-fact, ... almost the whole mortar section were Indians from Arizona ... and New Mexico. How they ever got that kind of alignment, I have no idea. KP: They were congregated into this platoon. JDZ: They were congregated into a weapons platoon, and then, ... the mortar section. KP: Did they speak any Native American languages? JDZ: Native? KP: Yeah, did they speak any Indian languages at all? JDZ: Yeah, to some extent they did. Now, there was a sprinkling of other Indians ... through the company. Yes, because, we have a sergeant by the name of Benevides who was from ... somewhere in Arizona. He was a tech sergeant. He was a platoon sergeant and he was a good one. But, if we ever got back off-line, he would go out and get drunk like you wouldn't believe, and they'd have to haul him back. I mean he couldn't move. He'd get ossified. And, they'd bring him back and they'd reduce him in rank. Boom, you're a private, right off the bat. And, in short order, once he sobered up, and another few days had gone by, hell, he's back to platoon sergeant again. ... That's fact. He was a hell of a soldier, but he'd get a hold of some local vino and he'd just go until it was gone, gone, gone. ... So, I had this weapons platoon and that was an entirely different kind of situation, because you're in a position. ... Where do you place the machine guns? Where do you put the mortars? ... You're getting orders. Obviously, if the company commander calls the platoon leaders together, you know what your objective is and you ... try to reach it in the best way possible. But, I can't impress upon you too much how easy it was for just a few enemy troops, in the right positions, to hold us up. ... We frequently would have a whole company column. Now, a company column, that's one guy following one another. That's the least effective kind of maneuver. That isn't a maneuver. ... You had no choice, because, if you ... tried to make a broad front and moved people this way, ... you tried to ride the ridge line and not have people down in the valleys, down in the ravines, because, boy, the Germans were excellent with their mortars. They were devastating and they'd mortar you to tears. It was bad enough riding the ridge lines, but, at least, you had more elevation here than you would have down in the ... ravine of the valley. So, you tried to ride those and we ... finally, on a very, very foggy day, foggy, light rain day, we took an ... important terrain feature, by surprise. The Germans ... were there but they didn't expect us in the numbers we got up there. ... I can see our regimental commander that day coming up the hill ... and saying, you know, in effect, "Come on, keep moving, keep moving," because it was a surprise. ... Mount Battaglia was the name of this dominant terrain feature, and Battaglia was within eight miles of the Po Valley. Now, remember our objective was the Po Valley. Our objective was to win the war, get it over with, obviously, but the Po Valley gave you this tremendous respite from mountain, mountain, mountain. The Po Valley was twenty-five, thirty miles wide north-south, before you hit the Dolomites, and then, ... eventually the Alps. ... We got within eight miles, and we got on this Mount Battaglia, and, ... by now, I'm company exec of E Company. ... Again, we only had, at that point, ... four officers in the company. We had company commander, company exec, and two platoon leaders, so we were missing one rifle platoon leader and one weapons platoon leader. So, I was company exec. ... We got up on Mount Battaglia, "G" Company was in the lead. They were right up. Well, you'd have to see a picture. But, it was more ... like a ridge line, but a very prominent ridge line. And, at the very, very top was the remnants of an old castle. That castle had been there from way back, let's say, about the twelfth century, and just remnants of it. And, G Company, they got up there at the very, very top. I'm company exec of E Company. You know, your battalions made up, Second Battalion, your companies are E, F, and G, and then, H, heavy weapons company. Each battalion has a heavy weapons company. ... You get three rifle companies and a heavy weapons company. Well, I'm company exec of E and we were not at the very top, we were down to their right about, oh, four hundred, six hundred yards, spread out, and then, of course, dug in. ... Well, we were there for seven days, and in the seven days, we lost two-thirds of our battalion. ... Mostly mortar fire, artillery, and you just had to hold it, that's all. And, we did, but the poor devils in G Company, they had the toughest time. ... I lost a very, very good friend, as a matter-of-fact. I had gone to Rome. I had one pass while I was over there, and I had gone to Rome on pass, and he and I wound up rooming with each other. He was regular Army. He's a guy that had gone into the service about 1938. He was from a little place, Orwigsburg, Pennsylvania His name was Roeder, Bob Roeder, R-O-E-D-E-R, German. ... He was company commander of G Company, he was killed up there at the castle. ... He got the Congressional Medal of Honor. We only had two Congressional Medals of Honor in the 88th Division, and he was one of the two. But, we spent a week there. ... KP: Is that your most vivid memory of it? JDZ: That was a nasty, nasty week. ... One of the most, yeah, because you couldn't move. ... We all dug foxholes, and the foxholes couldn't be deep enough. ... It was ... wet snow and rain, and the foxholes would fill up ... with water. We had a lot of people in Italy that got trenchfoot. A lot of them ... had to be sent back with trenchfoot. ... For seven days, the Germans knew that they had no business losing that dominant terrain feature, and they tried to get it back. ... They had trouble supplying us. We went through a period, ... not that it was terrible, but we didn't get any food up for, like, thirty-six hours. All your supplies, in that situation, you know, came up by mules. ... They selected guys out of a division, and they'd become mule-skinners. And, they would handle ... big burros, that's what they were. ... All of the supplies, your ammunition, your food, all had to come that way. ... It was usually done at night, for obvious reasons, where you couldn't be seen. The Germans ... were so accurate with their mortar fire, and they knew, for example, to get up to this very top of Mount Battaglia, where G Company was, and we were down just a little bit lower, ... you had to go through an expanse of about two hundred fifty yards that was wide open. In daytime, it was just totally open, and, boy, the Germans, they'd keep that mortared sporadically, twenty-four hours a day. You know, they'd throw in two or three shells, and then, there might not be another shell for twenty-eight minutes. And then, they'd throw in two or three more, and it went on ... all the time. Well, these guys come up with the mules, or any men coming up there, you know, they'd get up across there as fast as they could, and you had a lot of situations like that in the mountains. But, anyway, after seven days of that, before ... we were finally relieved, they had to bring up another battalion from our regiment. We lost so many men on the hill. KP: What was it like to lose so many men at one time? What was that experience like? JDZ: Well, G Company lost a disproportional larger amount than we lost in E Company, because they were, as I say, at the very, very crown of this hill. We weren't getting many replacements. They were going into the Seventh Army in Southern France. We didn't get replacements, very, very few. So, the unit strength got lower, and lower, and lower. And, the morale started to dip, and ... it was difficult to move around during the daytime. It was very difficult, and, if you did move, you moved fast. There were no ... out-buildings to afford any protection right in that particular area. You'd move from your foxhole, maybe, to the next foxhole, check on how they were doing there, move to the next one, or yell over, ... "You guys all right? Everything okay? You got ammo?" ... But, at night, you could get up and be little bit freer to move, but, meanwhile, you're getting sporadic fire. And then, ... some of the units ran out of ammunition, and ... the burros didn't get up to where we were. ... Hell, they were throwing big pieces of rock down. The Germans would attack and throw rock at them. ... Anything to keep them from getting up the hill. ... After that another battalion from our regiment was committed, ... we were pulled back. We were pulled off-line for a couple of days. ... At that point, we did get a couple of replacements. I say a couple. I can't tell you how many we ... got. We built up platoons maybe by eight or ten guys, but we were never up to full company strength, never. KP: Never in your time? JDZ: No, never. ... About ... third week in October, thereabouts, we went into the attack, and I'm still company exec of E Company. G Company was on our left, F in reserve, and we were attacking ... it was open, ... it was rock-strewn, but ... there weren't trees. It was, like, two hills, two small hills, but no trees for cover, just rock, where there was rock. We got our hill, we were on the right, and E Company, we got up and got our hill. We took some casualties, but we got our objective. G Company, you could watch over there, and ... they were getting mortared to tears, and you knew they were taking ... you know, at a distance, it's hard to tell, ... maybe four to six hundred yards away, what's really going on. You know, that's something in infantry, ... it is so hard to communicate, it is so hard to control. ... You know what's going on right in your immediate area, but to know what's going on four hundred yards away is impossible. But, we could tell that they were getting a lot of mortar fire, which said to us, "They're taking casualties." So, ... about late afternoon, it was light, this is ... October, maybe four o'clock or so, ... a runner comes up and says, "Colonel Williamson wants you to take command of G Company." Well, I can only tell you, ... it wasn't a happy thought, in my mind. I mean, I knew some of the guys in G Company. In the battalion, you got to know people from other companies. But, I thought, "God knows what I'm going to see when I get over there." So, the runner's name was Byrd. He was from West Virginia, too. I remember him well, he was a good kid. ... He said, "And, the Colonel wants me to lead you over there." So, we got down off the crest, or I thought it was off the crest of the hill, and we get about half way over to, and this is only, you know, a couple hundred of yards, they were only over there four or six hundred yards. And then, the damn machine gun start popping right around our heads. You know, I don't know whether you've had the experience, ... but, when you're in the rifle pits ... learning about fire, ... when they're close, ... they pop right over your head. And, here I am. Foolishly, I've got enough of myself exposed. The runner's ahead of me, and he and I are running, ... a trot, and damn, ... I foolishly was up just a little too high, and some German had spotted me, and he was popping them, and they were popping right over my head, the machine gun fire. I remember I saw it and I thought, "You damn fool. How dumb can I be?" And, I get down off of the slope, you know, so you're not creating a silhouette, got over to the G Company. And, I don't know, I think some days it was the worse day of my life. I hope you don't think that I'm playing. KP: No, of course not. JDZ: I knew ... the company commander was Ed Maher. He was first lieutenant. He had the company, and, again, the company was not up to strength. He's dead, he's laying on the hill. The company exec, they had a company exec by the name of Dykers. He was wounded. He was ... shot in the ankle, and he was going to be sent back. What was there of the weapons platoon, the mortar section ... well, first of all, I'm getting ahead of myself. I found whoever was leading the company, and it turned out to be a platoon sergeant by the name of Barone. He was from north Jersey. Now, he'd been with the 88th Division from, initially, ... KP: From training? JDZ: At Minturno. Yeah, ... when the first elements went in, in southern Italy, in February. So, he'd been with them February, this is October. So, I found out, you know, who was in command of the company, because the officers were ... one dead, one wounded, that's the only two they had. And, Barone's in a, I don't know if you know what a slit trench is, but a slit trench is enough that you can lay down in it, you know. It's not as deep as a foxhole, ... you could stand up in, but a slit trench, anything ... enough to ... afford you some protection. He's got a slit trench, and there's a lot of rocks, shale, in this area. It's a bitch to dig in. But, anyway, I found him, and said, ... "What the hell's the situation? ... Where are the machine guns from your weapons platoon?" So, he points to where the machine guns are. Hell, the ... gunners were both dead on each machine gun. The mortar squad, mortar section, three mortars, of course, they're in back, you know. You fire mortars from defilades somewhere. Well, they were ... in the back and they weren't firing, and there was still sporadic mortar fire coming in. So, I'm laying in this same slit trench with Barone, ... trying to size up the situation, "Where the automatic weapons were, and how many able men do you think there are," and so forth and so on. ... I was with him, I don't know, half-an-hour, maybe, and all of a sudden, he gets over and he starts to beat on the ground, beats table like that, and ... I knew, right off the bat, he was off his rocker. ... He kept saying, "I can't take it anymore. I can't take it anymore. I can't take it anymore." ... The company headquarters, all that consisted of the company headquarters, we had ... the communications sergeant and a runner, two of them. ... Anyway, I used that runner and I sent him back with Barone. I said, ... "He's of no use to me, at this point." So, he went back, and I get up, and, eventually, got ... riflemen put onto the machine guns. ... We got through the night all right. I mean, if the Germans had decided to ... counterattack, ... they'd have overrun us so easily, it would have been an easy game. But, they didn't. KP: What happened to the sergeant? JDZ: He wound up in a military police outfit. We bumped into him ... when we got to Naples to come back to the States, the word got around that Barone was in a MP outfit, and we got to see him. And, he was straightened out, but I'm sure, like everybody, everybody's got a breaking point, at some point. ... Well, anyway, ... the whole offensive, by November 10th or 15th, we were unable to reach the Po Valley; nobody could get to the Po Valley. On a clear day, we could see the Po Valley, and we had maybe one clear day out of a week, and you could actually look into the Po Valley from where we were. Now, this was not Mount Battaglia. I mean, ... we'd been pulled off-line and, you know, another area, and there were a lot of things that happened in-between. ... Our division fought on the east flank of the Fifth Army, most of the time, which meant that we had British Eighth Army on our immediate right. When we took Mount Battaglia, we were five thousand yards ahead of the British Tenth Army on our right. Not Tenth Army, British Eighth Army. ... You know, we kind of shared ... the American Fifth Army occupied about five-eighths to two-thirds of the peninsula, and then, ... the British Eighth Army from the Adriatic into contact with us. And, there were times when we were relieved ... by the Coldstream Guards, a British outfit. They relieved us on one occasion, we relieved them on occasion. ... One happy situation I will never forget. The word got around that the British were going to relieve us on the front. We were on Mount Grande. ... I was company commander, and we'd made our CP, command post, down off the ... crest of the hill, maybe thirty, forty yards, and we piled up stones, yea high, and we made an enclosure. ... That was our CP there. There were no houses, no farm houses, in that area, none of that, and we stretched tarps over top to give us protection from the elements, and this British company commander came up. ... Every British company commander I ever ran into, they all have what they called a batman. The batman ... was an enlisted man who carried their duffel. This was the way that ... the British got their reputation. Pardon. DB: Like a caddie? JDZ: Yes, like a caddie, exactly. Well, he came up anyway ... in the afternoon sometime, and the word was that we were going to move out late that night, and they were going to move in, which meant that I had to show him our positions. Well, I did that and that went off, and things were pretty quiet, and we went back. And then, the order got countermanded and it was to be delayed twenty-four hours. They weren't going to come up ... his company exec, second in command, was going to bring the company up. So, instead, he spent the night with us. And, we never had tea, I like tea, and they got a ration of tea. ... We sat there that night, in the CP, into the wee hours of the morning, the command group. You know, myself, and I didn't have a company exec. I only had one ... other officer at that point. There were ... probably six, eight enlisted men in there, all sitting around in the CP. ... He pulls out his tea. He's going to stay over-night now. He's decided, instead of him going back, he'd stay there. So, he stayed there and we're telling stories back and forth, and joking, and ... having a ball. ... He pulls out his bag of tea. He had one of these cloth bags, big cloth bag of tea. We ... boiled hot water, you know, and had the tea. All we had was coffee. We never had access to tea. So, ... the tea was a nice break. [laughter] ... I swear, we must have ... cut his bag in half before the night was over. But, that sticks in my memory. ... There are so many ... funny things that can happen. We were on the outskirts of Bologna. This was the last push now. In other words, we spent the whole winter in the mountains. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me just tell you, in a nutshell, I started to suffer a lot of diarrhea, middle November, thereabouts, and I had a standing order with our supply sergeant to always send up long johns for me. I mean, I had diarrhea and I had it bad. And, I was not alone. There were others. Anyway, come Christmas Eve '44, I had yellow jaundice and hepatitis, and there were a lot of yellow jaundice hepatitis patients in Italy, a lot of them, matter-of-fact. So, I got sent to the rear, ambulance to Florence, and then, the C-47 hospital plane back to Naples, 300th General Hospital. So, that's how I spent Christmas Day of 1944, in a hospital plane. I get back to the 300th General Hospital, and the whole hospital is full of yellow jaundice, hepatitis patients in Naples. Spent six or seven weeks in the hospital, and then, you were sent out to a conditioning company, to get ... your legs back in shape, get you in condition again where you could act like an infantryman, after being in the hospital. We spent two weeks in the conditioning company, hiking, you know, for the most part, that kind of thing to build up ... your strength. And then, I got sent back up to the unit. Well, I wasn't sent in as a company commander. ... I'm still a first lieutenant, but I went back and took over what they call the intelligence and reconnaissance platoon. Every battalion has an I&R platoon. So, I took over that platoon. And then, ... from November 15th, roughly, until the spring push started, we were still in the mountains south of Bologna. ... When the final push started in the spring, ... April 3rd, I think, was the date we left the line of departure. ... Our battalion had to go up a gradual slope. ... Monterumici was the name of the mountain on one side, Mount Adone was the name of the other one, but there was a saddle in-between these two. ... It was probably one thousand yards from the line of departure, where your attack started, up to the saddle, and that was a tough thousand yards. There was one old farmhouse, ... all farmhouses over there were stone, ... in there and, of course, the Germans had all winter now to dig in, prepare. I mean, ... when we finally broke through in three days, they had rooms in there, I tell you, ... not unlike this room, dug into the reverse slope of the mountain. It's almost unbelievable, but that's the way and they were living pretty good. But, we had a hard job, getting up that thousand yards of saddle. One of the things the Germans did, ... in that situation, they have what's called a Schu, S-C-H-U, mine, and they looked like a small cigar box. ... When we left the line of departure, there was a lot of sort of sandy area, and they would plant, during the winter, ... these mines. You had a quarter of a pound of explosive in the mine, and the mine would get buried so that just the tip, like a top of a box, not closed, ... just barely sticking out the surface ... of the softer sand. And, all you had to do to trigger that, you know, you hit that box, the lid goes down, and a quarter of a pound of explosives goes off, and it knocks off your foot, or it knocks off the front of your foot. ... We had eleven guys, I think in the first twenty minutes, ... in the battalion, step on Schu mines and lose ... parts of feet. Fortunately, ... we were able to get some of them into ... this farmhouse that was there on that slope, moved them into the basement on the south-side. ... We got up there, ... we got there, and it was rather quick, and from that point on, ... now the hills are getting smaller, down into Bologna, and the Germans are in total retreat. Now, see, this is the spring of '45. The war's only got to go until May 7th or 8th, and it's over. ... KP: It must have seemed like a very strange war to you for someone who was used to taking a few hundred yards at a time. JDZ: That's right. Well, it was. It was so strange. ... First of all, we thought it was going to be a big problem getting across the Po River. Well, it wasn't a problem. Why the Germans didn't blow the bridges over the Po River? Not in our area of advance. KP: Oh, they didn't? JDZ: I've never read about speculation on why they didn't, but they didn't, and, as a result, we got across in a hurry. Now, you've got ... five infantry divisions in Fifth Army getting across the Po River, in the valley, and starting to sweep out, fan out, as fast as we could go. ... They brought the two and half ton trucks up, and they'd transport a platoon and a half, let's say, at a time, and they'd move them ahead, up the road, ... eight to ten miles, rushed the truck back, put another forty guys on, rush them up. Now, the Germans are in total, total chaos. I mean, they're trying to get back into ... Germany, or into Switzerland, anyway they could. I had a funny experience. ... So, they leap-frogged us like that and we had a situation where, one night, somewhere there in late April, ... we're in a convoy and it's a miserable night. It's raining, pouring rain, and so forth, and ... our truck convoy stops and German SS troops came in and grabbed a whole truck-load of guys, took them prisoner out of their truck, and nobody else in the convoy knew it. It actually happened. And, these ... men from our outfit, our battalion, were prisoners for a matter of, maybe, seven, eight days. And, by that time, the Germans let them go, because the war was ... almost over. But, they got back, and, oh, they were so grateful, because they were afraid SS troops were going to do them in. But, ... it was an interesting time. We got to a place, I remember a little town, Cavalese. Now, you're getting up into the Dolomites, and we get into this ... pretty, little mountain town, and there was a trout stream, ran down through the town. ... We had a sergeant by the name of LaFortune. He was a college guy and he and I would talk about fishing, once in a while. ... We knew we were going to be in there, ... in this little town, at least twenty-four hours, and it was just a beautiful mountain town with a trout stream. ... He comes and he says to me, "Hey, ... let's go trout fishing." "Damn, that sounds good to me. We'll go trout fishing." ... Scrounge up a couple of rods, well, we did. ... We went down, and we are fishing in this stream. I had my ... .45 caliber pistol with me. He didn't have any arm at that point. ... I mean, the war's almost over. ... Here's the stream and here's a mountain that goes up south of the stream, and I hear this crashing, like people coming down. ... You couldn't help but hear them coming down through the underbrush. My God, they come out, they were surprised as we were. Two German soldiers with ... the helmets slung on the muzzle of their rifles ... God knows where they came from. Their unit was in total disorder, ... and, again, they were trying to get back to Germany, one way or another. Well, ... I saw these guys, and down goes the rod, ... whipped the pistol out, and they saw us, you know, and, boy, the hands went up. [laughter] They were very happy, absolutely. ... We took them up to turn them over to the people who had the POW cage. The POW cage wasn't in that town. I don't know where it was, but we turned them over, 'cause we were taking a lot of prisoners at that point. KP: Was that your first encounter with taking someone prisoner, or had you taken someone prisoner before? JDZ: No, we'd taken prisoners before. ... As a matter-of-fact, the 88th Division took more prisoners than any other division over there in Italy, ... from the period that they were in combat, from February of '44 until May of '45. There was a lot of strong feeling about taking prisoners on the part of some people. I mean, there were Americans who would just as soon have killed them, you know because rumors would come back to us, I don't know. ... The kind of carnage that goes on is hard to reckon with sometimes. And, there were lots of stories, ... you know, you turn four prisoners over to ... someone had to accompany them back to the rear, and some of these guys said, "The hell with them. I'll take them down the hill and I'll shoot them." ... I can't attest that that was done. I never saw that done, and I wouldn't have done that myself. I just didn't have that kind of feeling. KP: But, you mention that your division had a strong feeling about taking prisoners. Why? JDZ: I have no idea. KP: I know people have said some units would kill their prisoners. JDZ: No, ... I can't read anything into that, no. Just fact. We took a lot of prisoners. DB: Was there a point in time that you sensed that the German morale was declining, or that their fighting was becoming less intense? JDZ: We knew that their numbers were becoming fewer and fewer. ... We were, supposedly, opposing, at one point, twenty-two German divisions. Well, hell, there wasn't a German division in Italy up to anything like full strength. They were lucky if they were at 40% full strength. So, you knew. They were trying to fight a war on the Eastern Front, war on the Western Front, and just trying to hold what they could, for as long as they could, in Italy. So, they were opposing tremendous numbers of people. DB: What about the Italians? What were their general attitudes or reactions to you, as well as the Germans? JDZ: Well, ... first of all, you saw damn few civilians. When you're fighting, the civilians are gone. They've retreated to a cave somewhere, or they've gone to the rear, and, of course, this is agricultural country, farmers. ... Interesting you should ask that, because I can remember we had a lot of kids in our outfit who could speak Italian. We had a lot of boys of Italian extraction. ... One of the enlisted men came up to me one day, he said, "I got a farmer back here, wants to talk to you." So, he brings him up, and I said, "Well, talk to him, what does he want?" So, he gets done this conversation, he says, "Lieutenant, ... you see that farmhouse over there, out there, oh, a half-mile or so? ... That's his home, he wants to go there." I said, "Tell him there are Germans in that farmhouse. We know damn well there are Germans in that farmhouse. Tell him, make sure he understands that." Well, that guy, he was reluctant to believe it. I mean, you could tell by his actions. ... What you had to watch for ... situations like where your front was not moving very fast. You'd get into a static position for a day, or two, or three. You had to watch the people like that weren't being funneled into your lines by the Germans, simply to learn more about your positions, and so forth. We knew this guy, there was not a Chinaman's chance in hell that he was going to be allowed to go up there to his farm. I mean, we could care less where his farm was, at that point. That didn't mean diddly-squat to us. But, you had situations like that. KP: You had a very strange experience, not unique to you, but, you were on the line, with combat that went on forever, and then, you were yanked out and sent to a nice hospital with clean sheets. What was that like? JDZ: Oh, God, that was like seventh heaven, even though I had yellow jaundice and hepatitis. ... I was in a room with two other guys in the hospital, and one of them, by the name of Peterson, I will never forget, because he was a Swede. The 34th Division, his outfit, had more combat time than any other division in any theater in World War II. They went into North Africa, the Red Bull Division. Now, they were National Guard from ... I think, North and South Dakota and Iowa, and ... he was being rotated. He was one of only two guys out of his original rifle company left, and he was being rotated, and he got back as far as his division CP, and he came down with yellow jaundice. ... He was one of the two guys. ... He had ... four hundred thirty-five days of on-line in combat. I thought, "Oh, my God." ... The rest of us were happy, but he wasn't happy, because he was being rotated. He wanted ... to get home. The rest of us were happy to be in those clean sheets. Oh, yeah. ... I could remember three guys came into the room almost every night to play cards, and we called them the Doughnut Brigade. These guys, while they were back there with yellow jaundice and hepatitis and recuperating, they'd had hemorrhoid problems, and they decided to have, if they could get it done, ... hemorrhoideftomies. And, we called them the Doughnut Brigade. I could see those three guys coming out of the room almost every night. ... Anything to, hey, prolong staying there. But, I was sitting there, it was six or seven weeks, and then, back up, as I said, to the conditioning, re-conditioning company. ... You were meeting guys in the hospital, you know, from every unit, share your experiences. I had one hundred forty-nine days on-line, and, fortunately, did not get hit. KP: But, you had a lot of close calls, it sounds like. JDZ: I don't know that I had a lot. ... I know of a couple that I had. KP: But, you were definitely in harm's way. JDZ: ... I thank my lucky stars with this guy Sgt. Barone and the slit trench, because we happened to be down at the time, and there was a mortar round came in. And, as true as I sit here, it landed about that far from the slit trench. Oh, God, what a roar, and, you know, throwing rocks on you and everything. But, fortunately, we were down. I think, had my head been up, or any part of my body been up above the surface of the ground, it would have been hit. KP: How scared were you in combat? JDZ: Oh, hell, now you sound like the doctor. You sound exactly like the doctor. You get to the hospital ... KP: And then, you were asked that? JDZ: And, the next day, yes, he comes around, and he's got his clipboard, and he doesn't say, "How scared?" he says, "Were you scared in combat?" "No, I'm a goddamned fool. I wasn't scared in combat, not a bit." Are you crazy? ... That's fact, believe me. [laughter] KP: The reason that I find it interesting for officers is that you have to lead these men, and, while a private could be more scared, he is really responsible for himself. You have to create this example for your men. How did you feel about that? JDZ: It felt very inadequate at times. Very inadequate. ... "Does my fear show through to these guys?" Come on, let's be honest. We all, we're in this situation together. "What do you feel?" "Well, I feel the same thing." ... KP: You mentioned one case of battle fatigue. Had you encountered other men in your units that could not make it? JDZ: ... Occasionally, we'd have something like that. None of them as stark as the situation where I was taking over a company, and the one guy in command was beating the ground, and just absolutely ... temporarily, certainly, out of his mind. He just ... reached it. Occasionally, we had it, but not really very many. Now, there were a lot of ... desertions in Italy. There were acknowledged desertions. Had a lot of ... guys of Italian extraction, and I don't mean to point to them and say, "Well, they were anymore ... vulnerable to that kind of thing," but there were some. KP: Did you have men from your unit go AWOL? JDZ: We had a couple of guys, yeah, just disappeared. DB: Where would they go? JDZ: ... Get off the uniform and fit into the ... populace as fast as you could, sure. You know, a lot of ... these guys, you know, in talking to them, you find out that ... their parents had come to this country, so they were new, in the sense that I'd call them, you know, first generation in America. They were first generation immigrants. ... You'd be surprised. I mean, you'd be in a certain area, you're talking about a certain town, and one of your men would pipe up and say, "Hey, my uncle's from ... there." I was grateful for the number of Italians we had in our unit. I know the 88th Division, when it was formed, came primarily from New England and the middle Atlantic states. -------------------------------------------END SIDE TWO TAPE TWO----------------------------------------- KP: This continues an interview with J. Domer Zerbe on November 16, 1994 at Rutgers University with Kurt Piehler ... DB: and David Brown. KP: I guess I want you to repeat that story. JDZ: Well, the story you're talking about, this was during the last push in the spring. ... We broke out of the mountains, we're in the south-side of Bologna, and we're stopped momentarily, for some reason or other, and I'm in this nice suburban house with a runner, and our battalion artillery liaison officer, Captain Cohen, and his radioman. ... A mortar round came in and hit the tile roof, and it makes quite ... a clatter. ... The radioman, very nonchalantly says to Captain Cohen, "Did you hear that, Captain?" ... Cohen turns to him indignantly and says to him "Did I hear it? Do you think I am deaf, you dumb son-of-a-bitch?" [laughter] Another thing I remember, south-side, ... now, this is war, and this may sound totally incongruous to you, but it happened. Our battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Yongue, comes walking down the road, in Bologna, with a bicycle, a brand new bicycle. Turns out that they got into one of these suburban homes and here was this lovely bicycle, and he was bound and determined that he was going to get that bicycle to the supply sergeant. You see, your supply sergeant was never up front with the company. He was going to get that to the supply sergeant, and get it sent home. I don't ever know if he got it sent home or not, but I'll tell you one more, along the same lines. During the last push, when we get up ... well into northern Italy, well above Trento, and before Bolzano, we got to a warehouse. It was a German supply warehouse and it must have been Luftwaffe controlled. Remember, Kesselring, at one point, had commanded the Luftwaffe. Anyway, on this warehouse, there were something like two hundred beautiful, gray, flight jackets, German flight jackets. And, there was a section of it that was nothing but liquor. And, there was another section where they had a bunch of ... drafting boards, stenographic supply, comptometers, okay. ... Our battalion commander, it, hell, happened our battalion, was the first to this place. When they uncovered what it was, our lieutenant colonel, the battalion commander, put a guard, he put a couple guards on it, and told regiment, right off the bat, what we had. ... Again, this was a place where we stopped, maybe, overnight, and don't you know the word got around, and the next thing you know, you had big brass, colonels, majors, and the like from rear echelon, showing up, because word got around that there was liquor in this warehouse. And, these guys, these enlisted men, took great pride, boy, in the fact, standing there at port arms, and saying, "Sorry, sir, you'll have to see Colonel Yongue." So, ... the big brass didn't get in. But, the upshot of it was that there must have been seventy or eighty of these, I'm calling them coptometers, adding machines, and, by then, ... the trucks had brought up duffel bags. ... The guys who got these adding machines put these in their duffel bags. ... We're still doing some leap-frogging ahead, remember I told you, in the trucks? ... Finally, and they hung onto these ... until the war was over. We were in the little town of Merano, M-E-R-A-N-O, the day the war ended. We were there the day before the war ended officially. ... There were German troops in that town, we were in the town. ... We were given the word that there was to be no hostility. The following day, the armistice would go into effect. ... I had, and a lot of us had, money that we had taken off prisoners. We called it wallpaper, ... big bills in size. ... I had a bunch of them, as well as all of our guys. ... There were some craft people in this small town, beautiful little town. If you ever get a chance to go there, go there. And, I went in, we decided, "Hey, if this money's going to be any good to us, we'd better spend it in a hurry." And, we did. ... The shopkeepers accepted it, and I have three or four wood carving pieces at home that I bought, and got safely to our supply sergeant, and got sent home. ... The following day, that currency was declared invalid. Invalid. ... No good. But, the interesting thing was, we got there the day before the armistice. I mean, we're on one side of the street and there are German troops sort of nonchalant on the other side of the street. Both of us knew that it was over the next day, officially. That was May 7th. KP: Did you take those Germans prisoners the next day? JDZ: No. You know, I can't answer that question, and I'm sorry that I can't. ... I think there ... had to be an agreement somewhere that they were to show up. I presume that they simply showed up as a group, somewhere, and became prisoners of war. The following weekend, the first weekend after the war was over, four of us got a jeep and we drove about forty miles up through beautiful mountain country to the Swiss border. A little town Nauders, N-A-U-D-E-R-S, and we got up there, and there's ... a Swiss guard, Swiss Army, and they wouldn't let us in. They were regarding their neutrality, as they should. ... He stood there and we were able to speak to him, and we said, "We'd just like to have some pictures taken. Can we step into Switzerland?" And, he let us step into Switzerland and we had pictures taken. Big deal. But, I remember sending pictures home, just black and whites, of the wild flowers that were growing on the ride up there. It was, you know, one of these treacherous kinds of roads, beautiful country. God, I'm glad we didn't have to fight through that. KP: Did you have any concern that you might be sent to Japan to fight against the Japanese? JDZ: Oh, yeah, sure. ... Absolutely. I didn't have quite enough points to stay in the 88th Division. They had a funny ruling and ... some of us who had gone over as replacements, in the same situation as I, got transferred to the 91st Division. I wound up with the 363rd Infantry Regiment, in the 91st Division. Now, they were over close to Trieste, in the town of Udine, U-D-I-N-E, and they confronted a situation with the Yugoslavians. Remember, Tito's Partisans had been very active, and the Yugoslavians lost land that was mandated to Italy after World War I, and Udine was located in that area, and the Yugoslavs thought that, rightfully, it was theirs. ... They were going to make it a point, now, while the iron was hot, to regain that territory. At least claim it, and then hope that the negotiators would allow it to hold up. So, what do they do but ... our regiment, the battalion I was in, took a company, and it happened to be the particular company I was in, I ... don't remember what happened to the other companies. But, anyway, there was a river that came running on down southerly, and the Allied Control Commission had decided that that would remain a boundary, at least for the time being. ... The regimental commander of the 363rd, just the previous day or two, and this was all in ... late May, or early June, of '45, he had to drive the Yugoslavs out of the town of Udine. ... He did it, he pulled tank destroyers, ... they were given the order. This town had a beautiful central park, and the Yugoslavs were given the order to vacate. They were in the municipal building of the town. ... They were given the order to leave, and they refused. The regimental commander of the 363rd infantry was ordered to drive them out. He got a hold of four TDs, tank destroyers, and he lined them up across the town square. Now, he says, "You get out, or I'm going to blow you out. I'll blow the building down around you." Well, they got out in the last minute, but, when they left, they crossed the Isonzo River, which runs roughly north-south, and the company I was assigned to gets the task of going up and guarding ... an electric generating sub station like, up the river from Udine, ... I'd have to guess at the miles, but a few miles. We're up there, I've got a platoon, and we're guarding this power plant against the possibility of the Yugoslavs taking some extreme action. ... The power plant's on the ... west side of the river, and it's a narrow river. It's not a big river, but a river that would drive turbines and create a lot of power. ... On the east side, they've got higher elevation than we, and we get up there and we knew that they were digging in. They were creating emplacements, gun emplacements, against the possibility of what? ... I'll tell you, we were uncomfortable. I mean, because we had a rifle company that was stretched out over ... a space of ... three or four miles. ... They'd bring the truck up with our hot food once a day, but, otherwise, you had radio communication from one platoon to another. ... Here these guys are on this bank overlooking us, and we're wondering to ourselves, "What the hell are they going to do? Wait till nightfall, and then, attack us?" ... It was uncomfortable. ... That lasted for just a few days, it wasn't too long, but it was uncomfortable. DB: Is there any chance that one of the reasons they told the Yugoslavs to get out was because they were Communists? JDZ: I have no idea. ... I always took the position that ... simply, at this point, there had to be a lot of delicate negotiations that were going to take place. But, they weren't about to let the Yugoslavs come in and, just by a power play, take over a particular area. ... I countered that with driving them out to where they, ... so-called, belong. [laughter] But, that didn't last too long. Incidentally, the men from the 88th who had the duffel bags with the adding machines, well, before I left the 88th, we came back to Lake Descenzano. ... We bivouacked there for several days, and the order came down from regiment, "Dispose of all the things that had been picked up in this warehouse." Well, you never saw such a sick bunch of guys. They let ... the first two hundred who got the flight jackets, they let them keep the flight jackets, as I recall, but the fellows who got the adding machines, and, you know, you'd pick up anything, they had to dispose of them and put them in a great big pile. Out they came from the duffel bags. ... We didn't have enough transport. ... We were picking the best trucks out of the German transport to ad to our own, and their transport, at this point, was not very reliable. I can remember, we had two or three German trucks that would move in our convoy, at that point. The war is over, now we're three, four weeks after the war, we're into late May, early June. KP: When did you embark for the United States? JDZ: The day Japan surrendered, August 14th. The 91st Division, who did not have the same amount of combat time in Italy that the 88th had, was destined to come back to the States, being brought up to strength, and go to the Pacific. And, they were going to meet at Camp Rucker, Alabama. So, I came back with them, the 363rd Infantry Regiment. It took four days, in a cattle car, from Udine to Naples. Narrow gauge railroad and a cattle car with a bunch of guys, ... a platoon or so. ... You could almost run as fast as a train went. Now, from Udine to Naples has to be ... four hundred miles, maybe. ... Every hour the train would stop and someone'd yell, "Piss call." You'd jump out and urinate, or whatever, and this was the way we got to Naples. And, somebody was telling me, the other day, I was with a bunch of my friends and we were talking about the venereal disease inspections, examinations that you had frequently. Well, the last thing we did before we got on the boat to go home, the order came down for all the troops to come out, dressed only in raincoats and boots. So, we are. And, that was at the pier in Naples. There was a medical team there, inspecting, to make sure they weren't putting anybody on board, you know, with VD. KP: What would happen if someone did have VD? JDZ: I don't know, ... they were yanked out. KP: So, you saw people that were yanked out? JDZ: Yeah, oh, yeah. ... There were a couple. There was a lot of VD in Italy, but I suspect it was everywhere. ... You had lectures and films on VD every so often, just to keep it foremost in your mind. [laughter] KP: What did you and your men think about this risk? Did it matter, seeing these films, and such, to your men? Were they less likely to go to a brothel if they were aware of the risk? JDZ: I guess that depended entirely upon the particular individual. I wouldn't have any part of it, but I guess ... that's the only way I know how to answer that. I am sure there were some who were very much inclined to, at the drop of a hat, and others wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. DB: All right, I have two questions. One, after the war was over and there were celebrations going on, was there any "partying" with the Italian women? JDZ: Oh, I'm sure there was. I don't carry ... any real, vivid memory of that. Remember what I told you. Now, for example, in the town of Merano, where we were the day before the war ended, there were damn few civilians around. Damn few. If we went through a village, while the war was going on, and you marched through a village, what few Italians that would be there would be out there offering you a bottle of wine, or an egg. You know, an egg was a delicacy. "Ova, Ova." ... And, every guy wouldn't get an egg. Maybe, every eighteenth guy would get an egg handed to him. Speaking of that, we had a guy in our outfit, ... I forget his name, but he was from Tennessee, and he was a butcher. ... We were K-ration, K-ration, K-ration, and, at some point, in, probably, early November, we ... were in a little static situation and somebody came back, they'd been on a little foray, and said, "Hey, there's a good-sized pig down there at that farm. Well, ... what do you think we ought to do?" I said, "What do you think you ought to do? Are you hungry?" So, they bring the pig, and they skin the pig, and we had a barbecue. I can see that, they put that pig on a spit, and we were in a situation where we could do it. ... We weren't right up on the very, very front, and we had pork, nothing ever tasted so good. Frequently, if we got a hot meal, the doggone meal would be lamb, ... mutton from New Zealand, and the damn mutton was 90% fat. Oh, God, it was miserable. It wasn't like good lamb, like you and I know, a leg of lamb. It was miserable. We were on the line one time for, I can't tell you exact number of days, but this is gospel truth, we were on line for the better part of a month, just with K-rations, given to you in three boxes. You tried to heat it, if you could, each one of the rations. Well, that had something to do with the yellow jaundice and hepatitis, too, the nutritional deficiency that resulted. Anyway, they pulled us off-line and told us we were gonna go back and get a hot meal. And, we started walking like ten o'clock at night and we walked back for two, three, hours, wee hours of the morning, ... as it turned out, right back close to where our 105mm howitzers were, ... one of our artillery battalions. They had a huge mound of straw there, huge mound of straw, and they had hot food. Well, if you want to see a bunch of guys ... dig into a meal and make pigs out of themselves, just gorge themselves, I amongst them. And, I'll bet you three-quarters of the guys in the outfit were sick that night. I can see the great, big hamburgers, greasy, but hamburgers, and catsup, you know, a luxury, catsup, and mashed potatoes and canned peas. And, after you had all you wanted, go over to the hay pile, and get yourself as much hay as you want, and bed down wherever you want. And, we were back close to a whole battery, a battery is four guns, 105mm howitzers. And, they fire, you know, boom, boom, boom, boom, like that, with maybe a little more spacing, but they all fire the same mission, ... within the same short time interval. And, I'll tell you, I bedded down like everybody else, and as God be my judge, those guns fired missions that night, and I never heard them. ... And, we all said in the morning, we were surprised to hear, they said, "Yeah, they fired missions during the night." You get to the point where you could walk in your sleep. ... Really, I'm not kidding you. You do, and there were situations like that. Well, the war ended in Merano, and then, we went to Descenzano. ... I wound up with the 91st Division over around Udine. And, came back and left Naples, 14th of August, after the VD inspection. ... DB: What did you think of Mark Clark? KP: What did you think of him at the time? JDZ: Well, don't forget now, retrospect is always easier. I just recently read a book. You want to read a good book on the Italian Campaign, read Circles of Hell by Eric Morris, who is a British writer. It'sCircles of Hell: The War In Italy, 1943-1945. Well, it drew me because that was just the period. I mean, I went over there in '44. I think the historians will, maybe, give him a ... C for his effort. But, I'm sure Mark Clark felt, in all honesty, and with justification, that he never had enough manpower to do what had to be done. I mean, there's a rule in warfare, or there was a rule at that time in warfare, that if you're gonna go into the attack, you ought to outnumber your opponent three to one. Three to one. And then, you stack up the kind of terrain we were in and you might say, "Well, maybe it ought to have been six to one." So, he never had enough. And, yet, ... some of the things that were done at his command, the 36th Division, the Texas outfit, had a terrible, terrible time at the Volturno River. I mean, read about the Italian Campaign. It's just terrible what they were asked to do, and the carnage that they suffered as the result of it. And, Cassino, my god, read about Cassino, attack, after attack, after attack, and the lives that were expended up there. And then, the effort that the Air Force made, the 15th Air Force, you know, bomb it into submission. They didn't bomb anything into submission, the guys just went deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and when the infantry came to attack up that hill, why, they were met with just as fierce opposition as ever. And, the only thing that ... brought down Cassino was, ... in effect, outflanking them. ... And, anytime you can do that, that's a gain. But, I think Clark, I don't think he was outstanding. I think he was a politician, that's for damned sure. He got in touch with Eisenhower, according to this book, ... as soon as Eisenhower was given command of SHAEF. Clark, who had gone to some schools with Eisenhower when they were both lieutenant colonels, he wrote to him right away. And, in his letter, he didn't ask for, ... almost as an equal, he suggested strongly to Eisenhower that he, Clark, should be given a big command under Eisenhower, but, I guess, not far under Eisenhower. I can't quote verbatim, but, you get the picture. Finally, you know, Rome was a big prize, finally got there the 6th of June, the day of the Normandy landing, and that was such a prize. And, he didn't want ... the British Eighth Army to get there ahead of him, and he said, "By God, if there are any Eighth Army people there ahead of us, shoot them." ... Now, I wasn't with him then, see. I joined him about seventy miles north of Rome. But, there were elements of the division that I joined, who went into a part of Rome. They didn't see any British troops, but Clark was just absolutely fanatic about it. These are prizes. You know, military leaders, hey, they are subjected to pushes and pulls and the ambitions, and, I'm afraid, many of them, as human beings, are not prone to regard life, as long as it's not their life. DB: Would you put that on the same level as the American and Russian race to Berlin? JDZ: Yeah. ... Sure, because after all, the politicos are the ones who, ... look at what Churchill wanted to do. I mean, Churchill fought like crazy to have us go into the Balkans, always in the Balkans, the soft underbelly. And, he was the one who wanted to have Eisenhower ... go all the way to Prague. "Get your tail across there so that the Russians don't bring that within their orbit." KP: You came home and you must have been delighted. If you had been with the 88th, you'd still be in Italy. JDZ: That's right. They went into occupation duty, and then, ... replacements went, it's interesting because, if you go to an 88th Division reunion, you could be with people who were with them from the very beginning or to people who were with them as late as 1955. Ten years after the war, they were still in occupation over in Italy and Austria. Now, we came home, and ... immediately, I never had any, I went to Rome on pass, I told you, with this Captain Roeder. He and I roomed together, as a matter-of-fact. But, I never had leave, as an officer, so I had ... accumulated thirty-two days leave. So, when I got home, of course, we were given ... two or three weeks, that didn't count as leave time. I mean, you were back from overseas. And then, ... this 91st Division was reassembling at Camp Rucker, Alabama, that's down the southeastern corner of Alabama, outside a little town called Ozark. So, now, my Chevy has been up on blocks while I'm overseas, in Mount Holly. So, I take it down off the blocks while I'm home from overseas. And, I've got five tires, such as they were, and you couldn't get, tires were rationed, and you had to have a mighty good reason to get a tire. So, anyway, two of the guys that I'd come home with on the boat, one from State College, Pennsylvania, and one from up in Maine, we were gonna reassemble at my home in Mount Holly. And, the three of us were gonna go down in my coupe to Rucker. So, we left. I don't know how many days we left ourselves. We, probably, left ourselves three days to get down there. And, I told these guys when we left, I said, "Hey, you can see the condition of these tires and I've tried to get tires while I'm home here ... to no avail, using the excuse that I had to get back to Camp Rucker, Alabama. And, the authorities in Mount Holly said, 'Well, hell, use the train. Go some other way.'" Because we were coming from everywhere, it wasn't the case of a whole unit coming. We started down Route 40, ... and before we got to Baltimore, I had a blow out, and ... I'll bet you we stopped twenty times. We put the spare on, now I've got four tires. I'll bet you we stopped twenty times, between where we had the flat north of Baltimore and Camp Rucker, Alabama, and we made it. ... And, by God, as true as I sit here, the next morning, I come out to the parking lot, down there, and I've got a flat tire. Now, I've got a real good excuse. Now, I'm on a military base and I've got to get home, and I have my vehicle there. And, I went to headquarters, and I had to see two or three different people and explain the circumstance. I got two certificates, and each one for a tire, and I went into Ozark, Alabama, and found a dealer ... and I got two new tires for the Chevrolet. Oh, dear. KP: Had you thought of staying in the Army? JDZ: No, absolutely not. I came home, in my hometown of Mount Holly, there was a National Guard company, 44th Division. And, when I came home, I hadn't been home a month, and a fellow I knew, a little younger than I, not a close friend, but an acquaintance, and he'd been a pilot. He'd been a pilot in the Eighth Air Force and he decided to stay in. So, when he came home, instead of staying in the Air Force, he saw this break that he could get running the National Guard company in Mount Holly. He came to me and he said, "Hey, you were in the infantry. This was an infantry outfit. ... Why don't you come on board? ... I can make you company exec, right off the bat." And, I said, "I don't want any part of it. I hope they've lost my records forever. I don't want any part of it. Absolutely none." And, he stayed in and draws the longevity pay, ... he had a nice business, too. But, that's what he wanted. Not me. KP: So, you had no thought of staying on and making it a career? JDZ: No, no way. I saw enough of the war and I saw the politicking that goes on in the service ... apple-polishing. It's bad enough in civilian life, but in the Army, I think it's rampant. And, that's probably unjustified, when you get down to a guy like Omar Bradley. A real, fine, apparently, everything you read about Bradley was fine, fine, fine, and he cared about his men, and was a good strategist, so, I don't mean to hold commanders in disrepute. After all, if you take the responsibility, what was it that Truman said, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." KP: When you left, you were married and had a young son. What was that like? JDZ: ... Oh, it was just great. I can remember coming home ... KP: How old was your son? JDZ: Well, ... what was he? I was over there June, and came back in August, so thirteen-months, fourteen-months. And, ... he was a joy, as was my wife. ... In the interim, she'd started living with my parents, who were only too glad to have her and a grandson with them during the war. ... About three months before I came home, she rented a house from her aunt. A little bungalow in Mount Holly that her aunt ... still owned. ... She's started to furnish it and so forth, so, when I came home, I came home to a nice, small home. Yeah, it was a real homecoming. It was. KP: I read in the Rutgers Alumni Magazine that you were very lucky to have a home, because you had to do quite a bit of commuting, you wrote once, between your first job and ... JDZ: Oh, for a year ... the first year with DuPont. ... I come out of the service, and, of course, didn't want to do anything for a couple of months. ... I had thirty-two days of leave time to begin with and, "Well, I'll start looking for a job come November, into December, of '45." I went to DuPont, and I went to Armstrong Cork Co., I went to Scott Paper, looking for a marketing job. ... The war changed my attitude completely about this aspiration I thought I'd had earlier about the State Department and fluency in a couple of languages. I'd already been overseas and ... it dissuaded me completely from wanting to pursue that. ... I say the war, I guess it was the war. ... All I know is that I came home, now I've got a wife and a son. I thought, "I could get into marketing." ... When I got to DuPont, boy, the thing that intrigued me was nylon. Nylon was new. Nylon was invented, well, brought into the commercial picture in 1938, right before the war. Boy, it intrigued me. And, when they sent me ... I went down and talked to personnel, and then, they sent me over to talk to a sales manager in the Fiber Department. Oh, boy, this is where I wanted to be. But, I was offered a job by Armstrong Cork. Scott Paper, I went for an interview, but I never made the follow up. But, I'm glad I went with DuPont. That nylon was intriguing, and, of course, it was only the forerunner of a hell of a lot more fiber chemistry. KP: And, you stayed with DuPont for the bulk of your career? JDZ: Yeah, I was with DuPont until '85. And, I left about a year and a half before I would have wanted to. I had thirty-nine years and four months. We had an early retirement opportunity. ... At that point, DuPont was very smart, if you look at when they started to go into down-sizing, compared to when some of these did, they started quite early. When they had this early retirement opportunity, I had enough service and age. It was a combination of age and service, and I looked at what my responsibility was going to continue to be. I sat down with the man who was going to be my new boss and saw what he expected. And, he was being thrust into responsibilities that he had very little knowledge of. ... I got involved in waste fiber management, waste fiber development. That's another story, but it was a very, very small task force. There were very few people in the company knew, really, what, and paid much attention to what we did, and still, we started to make a lot of money. And then, the company got very excited. But, I decided, at that point, that I was gonna wind up frustrated, that after thirty-nine years and four months, to stay on another year and a half, no way. ... I don't want to finish my career that way, so I bowed out. The company wanted to drop 6500, at that point. This was in April of 1985, and 11,220 took retirement, and it left DuPont in a real manpower crunch for the better part of two years, really did, from '85 into '87, because ... they had not forecasted accurately about how many people would take the early retirement opportunity. But, ... since then, they've had, ... at least, three additional downsizings. You're done. ... I've got to go, as a matter-of-fact. ... KP: Is there anything we forgot to ask? JDZ: If there is, I can't think of what it would be. I'm afraid, I mean, looking at my watch we've been too long. KP: Well, thank you very much. ... -------------------------------------------END OF INTERVIEW-------------------------------------------------- Reviewed by Shaun Illingworth 6/21/99 Edited by Sandra Stewart Holyoak 6/27/99 Edited by J. Domer Zerbe 7/99
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