THE^UNIVERSOF CHICAGOMAGAZINE,Sa* .. y ••; ¦» ^ *'?C - »*SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 1972THEUNIVERSITYOF CHICAGOMAGAZINEA taie of two dam sites: Tell Abu HreyraNubian rescueJohn A. Wilson 35What is a university press worth?Morris Philipson 13Trustée élections add three alumni to board 18Peripatetic alumnus 3119 Books20 Letters22 Alumni newsVolume LXV Number 2September/October, 1972The University of Chicago Magazine,founded in 1907, is published six timesper year for alumni and the faculty ofThe University of Chicago, under theauspices of the Office of the Vice Président for Public Afïairs. Letters andeditorial contributions are welcomed.Don Morris, AB'36EditorJane LightnerEditorial AssistantSecond class postage paid at Chicago,Illinois; additional entry at Madison,Wisconsin. Copyright 1972, The University of Chicago. Published in July/August, September/October, Novem-ber/December, January/February,March/April, and May/june. The University of ChicagoAlumni Association5733 University AvenueChicago, Illinois 60637(312) 753-2175John S. Coulson, '36, PrésidentArthur Nayer, Director, AlumniAffairsRuth Halloran, Assistant DirectorLisa Wally; AM'68Program DirectorRégional Offices1542 Riverside Drive, Suite FGlendale, California 91201(213) 242-8288320 Central Park West, Suite 14ANew York, New York 10025(212) 787-78001000 Chestnut Street, Apt. 7DSan Francisco, California 94109(415) 928-03375850 Cameron Run TerraceAlexandria, Va. 22303(703) 768-7220COVER: This éloquent représentation of the head of a hippopotamus, now on display in theOriental Institute, is one of the hundreds of objects rescued beforehand from the great lake inthe Nile valley created by the Aswan dam. It was recorded by Cari E. DeVries, researchassociate in the Institute, in a Nubian cemetery on the east bank of the Nile and dates back toEgypt's earliest dynastie period, or earlier. The exquisite bronze hand mirror shown on theback cover, and dating to 1,500 B.C. is likewise part of the Nubian find. Articles begin onfacing page.Picture crédits: Pages 1, 3, 4, 5, 11, and 32, Oriental Institute; Page 13 Leslie Siemens,University of Chicago Press; Page 30 Vanguard Photography; Page 31, Pearisburg-Narrows Virginian Leader.The Euphrates, as the historié river winds across Syria on its way front Turkey to the Persian Gulf.<\ taie of two dam sitessyRia's new, dam on the uppeR euphRatesCReates an aRChaeoloqical emeRqencynot unlike the famous Rescue opeRationon the nile a décade aqo; aqain theORientaL institute plays a RôleIn a few weeks an expédition conducted jointly by theUniversity's Oriental Institute and Oxford Universitywill begin work at a site in Syria whose archaeologicalremains extend back in time to the neolithic.The excavators will be working against time. TheUniversity's team, headed by Peter Parr, associate pro-fessor in the Oriental Institute and in the Department ofNear Eastern Languages and Literatures, will includethree graduate students. Their assignment: to get as muchwork as possible done on the site of Tell Abu Hreyra in two seasons of effort. After that the site will be coveredby the waters of the Euphrates, rising 130 feet aboveprésent levels in the first stage of construction of theSyrian Arab Republic's new dam. A second stage willraise the water level another 65 feet. The flooding willhâve covered hundreds of archaeologically importantareas by the end of 1973.The dam will be nearly three miles across, and it willcreate a lake five miles wide and 50 miles long, extendingnorthward from Tabqa almost to the Turkish border. It3will store some 420 billion cubic feet of water andgenerate more than 1,000,000 kilowatt hours of electricpower. But it will inundate the remains of an area whosearchaeological importance has begun to be recognizedonly in récent years.The area is already familiar to researchers of theOriental Institute. Excavation of Tell Mureybit, anotherneolithic remain, was begun two years ago, as was TellSelenkahiye, a more récent site, dating to 3,000 B.C. (Atell is a mound indicating the présence of buried archaeological remains below.)Tell Abu Hreyra is regarded by Syrian authorities asone of the ten most important locations in the area. Theminaret of the Abu Hreyra mosque — of greater interestto the Syrian government than the more ancient portionsof the site — will be moved 650 feet from its présentlocation and repositioned on higher ground — as weresuch landmarks of Nubian culture as the temples of AbuSimbel when the Aswan dam on the Nile was built. Syria regards the crash program of rescuing the soon-to-be-flooded ancient remains as so important that it hasmade spécial concessions to foreign excavators, who willbe permitted possession of half of the objects they find asthey uncover houses, tombs, etc. This arrangement provides an important opportunity for the Oriental Institute,which already has on display a great many of thetreasures uncovered in the Nubian rescue opération andis still busily sorting and restoring much more of thismaterial.As the Oriental Institute embarks on this new rescueventure, under the leadership of its new director, John A.Brinkman, it becomes part of a search and préservemission with teams from a goodly number of otherinstitutions. Some appréciation of the nature and scopeof the job ahead may be obtained through a look back-ward at the predecessor effort on the Nile, a perspectiveprovided in one chapter of Thousands of Years, a newlypublished book by a former director of the Institute,beginning on the page opposite.Digging at an earlier site on the Euphrates. After ail objects are removed from the excavation, residue is put throughscreen at far left.¦ ww r» .»¦The smaller temple at Abu Simbel created in honor of Queen Nefertari — originally a monolithic wonder, now movedto a new and higher location.nuBian RescueThe Nile Valley, as seen from the air, is a tawny and graydésert, lonely, forbidding, yet strangely beautiful. Acrossthis wilderness cuts the broad brown stream of the river,John A. Wilson (phD 26) is author o/Thousands of Years(New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1972, © John A.Wilson). From his memoir this behind-the-scenes accountof the rescue of Nubian antiquities from the Nile, is taken.Wilson, Andrew MacLeish Distinguished Service Profes-sor Emeritus in the Oriental Institute and the Departmentof Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations, was director of the Oriental Institute from 1936 to 1947. feeding a band of vivid green on each shore. The eternalbattle between life and death leaps forcefully to one 'seyes.The mechanics of the Nile seem to hâve the air of aplanned ingenuity — I mean the movement of the Nilebefore man added his ingenuities of dams and canals. Thelakes far south on the equator feed the White or "Clear"Nile, which proceeds northward into the Sudan at aleisurely pace. There its slow course used to be impededeven more by floating islands of végétation, the Sudd.Much of the silt has been deposited before this streamreaches Khartum, which is why it is relatively "clear." AtKhartum it is joined by its more turbulent partner, the5Blue or "Dark" Nile, rushing down impetuously fromEthiopia after the summer rains. Before man slowed itdown by dams, it was this more urgent Blue Nile thatcaused the annual inundation, which used to reach a peakin Egypt early in September. At Khartum the vigorouspush of the Blue Nile holds back the more placid watersof the White Nile, so that the latter stream may continueto water Egypt after the inundation has dashed throughthe land.The gift of the NileThe annual flood used to stretch out over the Egyptianfields, resting for a few weeks and depositing a thin filmof fertilizing silt. Then it would flush back into the bed ofthe river, and men would begin their crops. By spring theNile would be a low, sluggish stream. To hold the flood aslong as possible, ancient man caught the water in earthenbasins. In the delta a System of canals was used to carrywater out to the spreading fields, but canals were usedonly sparingly in Middle Egypt and not at ail in UpperEgypt.The diff erence between mean high and mean low Nileused to be twenty feet at the First Cataract, sixteen atCairo. A markedly low Nile meant famine. A markedlyhigh Nile would wash away the dikes and melt themud-brick villages. Since Greek times men hâve repeatedthe truism that Egypt is the gift of the Nile. With theEgyptians one can corne to love and fear the river.Modem health measures hâve permitted the population of Egypt to increase at a staggering rate. When therevolutionary government took over in 1952 the numberof Egyptians was moving from 25,000,000 toward 30,000,000. The government decided upon a major opération, a new high dam south of the First Cataract. Thiswould back up a lake 300 miles long, impound water to beused twelve months of the year instead of seven, and givethe land much more hydroelectric power. As in the caseof a smaller dam sixty years earlier, this would obviouslybenefit the living Egyptians.But the vastly increased height over the previouslevel — 180 more feet — would flood more than twentyNubian temples and cover permanently 300 miles oflittle-known archaeological land.Should we then recognize the priority of the living,shrug our shoulders, and say, "Let the dead bury theirdead"? In the earlier case we had merely regretted theloss of Philae; should we now turn to other matters? There was a vigorous "No!" to thèse questions fromseveral Egyptologists. More than one person faced up tothis formidable challenge, but no one more résolu telythan a French scholar, Mme. Christiane Desroches-Noblecourt. Her voice was insistent and undaunted bydifficultés. Without her demand that Nubia must besaved before the high dam was completed, some of therest of us might not hâve bestirred ourselves.Further, there was now an agency that had not existedin 1900, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, andCultural Organization. Mme. Noblecourt in Paris couldbe heard clearly at the UNESCO headquarters on thePlace de Fontenoy. A salvage opération more massivethan anything that had been known before would cost astaggering amount, and UNESCO was notoriously poorin the face of the many demands made upon it. Yet it wasobviously this world force that should be concernedabout this cultural problem.Several small forays into the doomed land showed thedimensions of the problem. In June, 1959, the executiveboard of UNESCO authorized a survey by specialists,who were to recommend what, if anything, could be doneby an international effort. A commission of experts visi-ted Nubia in the heat of October, headed by Dr. J. O.Brew of Harvard, who had been vigorous in pushing theinvestigation of American sites that had been threatenedwith flooding. The other American member of the commission was the late William C. Hayes of the Metropolitan Muséum of Art in New York. We could hâve hadno better représentative.The commission had a rugged trip, trying to see andjudge everything in Egyptian Nubia. The weather wassteaming, and most of the member s were new to the areaand to the problems. The commission grossly underesti-mated the cost, and concentrated more on saving templesthan on the excavation needed. But a positive report wassubmitted, ending with the recommendation that thedirector-general of UNESCO make an international ap-peal to rescue "the Nubian historical, archaeological, andartistic héritage which forms part of the human culturalpatrimony."Reversai of attitudeThe United Arab Republic clearly expressed the sin-cerity of its request to UNESCO by reversing its formernationalistic attitude, which had jealously protected anti-quities from foreign exploitation. Président Nasser re-6leased a statement in which he said that the high damwould be for the benefit of the people of Egypt, but thetreasures from the ancient past were part of the héritageof ail mankind. The U.A.R. was prepared to give ex-cavators, in Egyptian Nubia at least, half of their finds,instead of that minimal représentation that had been socommon. Those institutions which worked in Nubiawould later hâve priority for excavation in Egypt proper,and would be granted that more generous division offinds. Further, five Nubian temples and sundry otherantiquities might be ceded to those countries which par-ticipated in the salvage work in a big way. Ne ver beforehad such generous terms been offered to the excavator.In practice over the f ollowing years Egypt has f aithf ullycarried out thèse libéral promises.Unprecedented cultural effortEarly in March, 1960, the director-general of UNESCO, Vittorino Veronese, launched an appeal to the nations of the world to save the Nubian antiquities. Laterthat month a group of Egyptologists, archaeologists,anthropologists, and muséum curators met at the National Gallery in Washington to consider what the UnitedStates might do. It was expected that the Egyptologistswould provide the ideas and the enthusiasm for an ener-getic campaign. This promised to be the biggest culturalcoopération ever undertaken and a pilot project for simi-lar crises in other countries..111 health and prior commitments kept two leadingEgyptologists from the meeting. The others were unfor-tunately divided in their opinions. Perhaps we who dealwith matters four thousand years old are not prepared tomeet a deadline of five years. Certainly we were ailabsorbed in research projects of our own, which wouldengross our attention over the next year or two. None ofus had ever excavated in Nubia, which presented archaeological problems différent from those in Egypt itself.None of us expected our institutions to change existingbudgets and provide large sums of money for such anemergency.One Egyptologist argued that Nubia was a poverty-stricken land in contrast to rich Egypt and that the bulkof the problem was the rescue of vast stone temples,which was a job for engineers rather than philologists. Ailof this had some truth, and the objections blunted thedrive for a common effort. A few of us believed that if weevaded this challenge we should not be true to the cultural héritage from ancient Egypt that had been en-trusted to us for study. This was our problem.However, no one opposed the formation of the UnitedStates National Committee for the Préservation of theNubian Monuments. That was a formidable name, but itdid state our purpose.I was already involved with another committee andknew that I would hâve to be out of the country frequent-ly, to attend meetings in Egypt. So I spent the lunch hourcampaigning for a slate of officers that did not carry myname. That was not very bright of me, because myefforts were rewarded by my élection as executive secre-tary, the most time-consuming position. Brew was theobvious choice for chairman. William Stevenson Smithof the Boston Muséum of Fine Arts and Froelich Raineyof the University Muséum in Philadelphiawere the firstvice-chairmen. We were authorized to begin action.One of the main tasks was publicity. The Americanpeople had to be informed that there was a clear andprésent danger in Nubia, but there was no justificationfor spending large sums of money on advertising. For-tunately newspapers and magazfnes saw it as a goodstory . Reader 's Digest carried an excellent article early inthe campaign, and other national magazines gave generous picture coverage.It seemed probable that the total Nubian campaignwould cost at least $50,000,000. In my private mind I setthe American goal at $20,000,000. That seemed out-rageously high in contrast to archaeology's former ap-peals. Although I did not want to voice thèse ambitionsunless we had some assurance of success, Senator Ful-bright elicited the figure of $20,000,000 from me when Itestified before the Senate foreign relations committee.Blocked crédits helpThe figure was not impossible. Over the years theUnited States had sold to the United Arab Republicsurplus grain amounting in purchase value to severalhundred millions of dollars. Under Public Law 480 thiscrédit in purchase money remained in a debtor country,to be used for the mutual benefit of that country and ofthe United States. The huge sum in Egypt could easilystand the drain of $15,000,000 for the Nubian emergency.Action to allocate American crédits under Public Law480 had to be taken in the House appropriations committee, and on that committee were politicians who wereimplacably opposed to any officiai gesture for the benefit7of an Arab government. However, the crédit in Egypthad to be expended somehow. We hoped that thèsepoliticians would consider archaeology less offensivethan military or économie assistance. The crédit was insoft Egyptian pounds, which would apply to expensesinside Egypt.Honoraria add upBut the Nubian campaign would require hard American dollars also. We hoped to raise $5,000,000 hère inhard money. My appeal to the big philanthropie founda-tions to start off such a drive was courteously shelved bythem. It remained for a later and différent committee, onespecifically set up to aid in the rescue of Abu Simbel, toraise hard dollars up into seven figures.The National Committee, operating without directpublicity or full-time staff, raised only many thousands ofdollars. We had nearly a thousand responses to our softapproach, most of them for five or ten dollars, butaccompanied by very cordial letters. There were heart-warming expériences, such as the letter from somegrade-school children who had a hobby show and raisedeighty-seven cents for Nubia. A schoolteacher sent infive dollars a month for nearly eight years. Hundredswrote offering their services without pay.In the end I was the leading financial contributor. Itook to the road in 1961— '62 and gave eighty talks infifteen months. Some of thèse were without fee, but Iasked for an honorarium from any organization thatseemed to be liquid, and any payments went into theNubian account.For large money the approach was to the Congress.Although I had testified before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, our chief asset was Brew's expériencein visiting senators and congressmen to urge the protection of American archaeological sites. In the spring of1961, Brew, Edmundo Lassalle, a New York businessman, Prince Sadruddin Aga Khan of UNESCO, and Iwent to Washington. Sitting on a porch overlooking apleasant park, we spent the morning writing proposais,critieizing them, and writing them over again until we hada workable document. In the afternoon we went to theWhite House and presented our appeal to PrésidentKennedy's assistant, Richard Goodwin. He gave us acordial réception and was sufficiently informed to question us closely. Our proposai was for $22,000,000 out ofthe crédits held in Egypt, of which $2,500,000 was to be applied to the removal of smaller temples in Egypt andthe Sudan; $1,500,000 to aid American archaeologicalexpéditions in the doomed country; $6,000,000 to savethe temples of Philae; and we suggested a contribution ofone-third rescuing the temples of Abu Simbel. That lastportion appeared later to amount to $12,000,000. On April6 Président Kennedy sent a recommendation to the twoHouses of Congress, with our carefully written proposaisilluminated into éloquent appeal.By 1971, $16,000,000 has been allocated as a resuit ofPrésident Kennedy's recommendation. How thèse allocations got through a busy and reluctant Congress is astory I know only by rumor and cannot détail hère. Somecongressmen hâve been willing to allow action if they didnot hâve to go on record as supporting it. On two criticaloccasions the right formula was found. The $6,000,000for Philae has not yet been brought again to the attentionof Congress, because the plan to save Philae has not yetbeen clarified. The political climate is still unfavorablefor effective action.The United States National Committee for the Préservation of the Nubian Monuments is still in existence.South of the high dam virtually ail the excavations hâvelong been completed. Ail the temples there that could bemoved hâve been brought to safety. However, the Islandof Philae lies north of the high dam, and the actual rescueof the temples there is still in the future. The committeeremains in existence in the hope that we may find someway of helping on that.Early in 1960 I was invited to be a member of theConsultative Committee, set up under the auspices ofUNESCO to advise the Egyptian Government about thearchaeological work in Nubia and the rescue of thetemples there. Bill Hayes had been the obvious Americanfor that member ship, but his health would not permit himto take on another obligation. Beginning in May of thatyear the committee met once or twice a year in Shep-heard's Hôtel in Cairo. A session would last from five toseven days.The lecturer's dilemmaI was still teaching in Chicago, and notice of a pro-posed meeting usually came only two or three weeks inadvance. I had made rude remarks about other prof essors who went off on projects and left their studentsstranded. Now I was caught in my own criticism. I triedto make my absences as brief as possible — no more than8ten days, with some lesson assignments for the studentswhile I was away. This meant flying out to Egypt by jetplane — seventeen hours' travel time. The différence intime between Chicago and Cairo is eight hours. When themeetings began at 9:30 on the morning after my arrivai,my biological-psychological System would protest that itwas only 1:30 a.m. It usually took four days to adjust.When I returned to Chicago the reverse would be true.At a late morning class my system would demand that theworking day end. The students had to be patient with aclod of a professor. On the evening after I had returnedfrom one such trip I gave a public lecture. I warned theaudience that it might be 8:30 in the evening for them, butthat it was already 4:30 the next morning for me and thismight be the first time that the lecturer fell asleep beforehis audience did. Although I did get through the lecturewithout flagging, the question period was a disaster. Mybefuddled mind refused to rise to the unforeseen de-mands made upon it.It was difficult to think of the Cairo meetings as visitsto Egypt. The sessions were held in a modem hôtel, andwe had little time to be out of doors. I was elected secretary of the committee, which meant that my sparetime was spent in deciphering pencil notes taken oninvolved discussion and then setting them into parlia-mentary language for the minutes. If one is so im-prisoned, it does not matter whether the meetings are inCairo, Paris, or Chicago.The clinging typewriterAt the end of one meeting my thirty-year-old typewriter broke down finally and irreparably. Since I hadregistered its number for customs when I entered Egypt,I had to carry it to the airport for my departure. A newload of papers from the meetings now made my luggageoverweight, and I asked for permission to abandon thetypewriter at the exit customs. This was impossible. I hadbrought it in; I must take it out. I should not ask them todépart from established régulations. They finally did methe favor of not weighing it in with the rest of the luggage.I found that I should not be allowed to jettison it in flightor at any of the transit airports. I had to carry the corpsehome with me before it could be consigned to its lastresting place.None of us knew in advance whether internationalpolitics would affect the discussions. Would there be aninflexible Egyptian or French or Russian or Americanattitude? But no one came charged by his government todéfend national honor. Also, Fritz Gysin, the Swiss muséum director, was elected chairman. He was an admirable presiding officer, understanding, patient, andfïrm. Almost ail matters were argued and decided on theirscientific merits. We agreed so well that a vote had to becounted on only one issue in ail of the meetings.Most members of the committee were, in some respect, officiai représentatives of their home countries.But the Department of State had no formai interest in meas a member of this committee. I represented no acad-emy or learned society. Nobody had briefed me on theproper American position about Nubian problems. Theinterplay of considérations had dictated that there shouldbe an American on the committee, but officially I was anAmerican, not the American. However, I could not con-vince some of my colleagues on the committee that myviewpoint was strictly my own. They would ask me whatthe American position on some question was. When Ianswered that I did not know, that I was serving thecommittee as an Egyptologist rather than as an American, some of them could not accept my statement be-9cause they came from so différent a national setting.At one time it seemed necessary to bring a technicalexpert from Rome to advise the committee on the chemi-cal treatment of ancient materials. The représentativefrom UNESCO said that there was no money for such apurpose. I burst into protest. If they would just let metake the round trip between Chicago and Cairo economyclass instead of first class, they would save $500, whichwould be ample for the expenses of the man from Rome.Suddenly I was aware of a slight tension around the table.Some of my colleagues felt that they must do theircountries justice by traveling in the dignity of first class. Ihurriedly said that I was an exception, because my travelwas more than twice as costly as that of any othermember. It was agreed that less expensive arrangementsshould be made for me, and we did get the technicalexpert for the following meeting.To be frank, airplane travel has become a bore. Without the constant attention from stewards and stewardes-ses that seems to be a feature of first class, I can read orsleep. Back in 1928, when I had my first bumpy flight inGermany, airplane travel was an exciting adventure. Inthe late 1930s, when one flew over lakes and mountainsand farms or over those billowing clouds, flying offeredbeauty. Now it has simply become a means to go fromone place to another without regard to pleasure or inter-est. When Mary and I flew from Thailand through Ceylonand India to Egypt, we spent half again as much timewaiting in dreary airports for unaccountably delayedplanes as we spent in actual flight.The twelve members of the Consultative Committeewere assisted by Egyptian and UNESCO officiais. Thehôtel room was crowded. At the first meeting the blastfrom the air-conditioner blew directly upon the interpréter, who could not change his seat. He developedsevere earache. From then on we did most of our owninterpreting.Linguistic puzzles, solutionsThe committee at first accepted French as the officiaiinternational language, but much of the technical lan-guage was in English, and I found it difficult to rendersuch terms as "riprap," "subsurface capillarity," and"grouting" into French. Five other members of the committee were more at home in English than in French.Only two lacked some English. We slowly forced thediscussions into English, with translation into French or Russian when needed.Prof essor Boris Piotrovski, the member from the Soviet Union, arrived for the first meeting with anotherRussian in attendance, introduced as his interpréter. Thissecond man had only a little more English than hiscompatriot and almost no French. They always sat to-gether and went together. It appeared that the interpréterhad been sent along as a kind of consultant-governor forthe member. Piotrovski had some command of German,and translation into that language satisfied him. He and Igot along together in that médium. I had been studyingRussian in préparation for the coming congress in Mos-cow in the summer of 1960.One morning the two Russians sat down beside me atthe conférence table. I greeted them with zdravstvuite,one of the few terms I had available. They responded tomy "How do you do?" but looked startled and soonchanged their seats. At the second meeting of the committee, Piotrovski was permitted to corne alone. By thethird and later meetings he was even allowed to join us insome of the evening social e vents. He was an ableexcavator and a friendly man.Literally monolithicMost of us were experienced enough to handle thearchaeological and epigraphic problems that faced thecommittee. However, the biggest question was one ofengineering, the rescue of the two temples at Abu Simbel.About 175 miles south of Aswan a steep sandstonebluff faces the Nile. Shortly after 1300 B.C., Ramses IIhad two temples carved into this cliff. They weresouthern exponents for Egypt, majestically announcingto travelers north on the Nile that they were entering thedomain of the great pharaoh. The temples are unique.Loss of them would be a confession of Egyptologicalindifférence. But how do you préserve structures thatbelong to a single pièce of hillside, with a façade nearly100 feet high and with a pénétration of 180 feet into themountain? The four colossal figures of Ramses II thatdominate the Great Temple are themselves 66 feet high.A Frenchman once said, "Imagine the Cathedral of NotreDame carved out of a single block of stone!"None of us would accept the argument that the engineering job was too difficult and too expensive, that thetemples had been photographed, copied, and measured,so they could be allowed to sink under the waters of thenew lake without loss to science. We felt that this would10be an archaeological crime, like letting the stones of theParthenon be burned for lime or using the Roman Forumas a quarry.The obvious answer was to leave the temples in placeand to protect them behind a coffer dam. That proposition was carefully studied by a French firm. We were atfirst disposed to accept their plan. But we were told thatno dam is free from seepage and that the porous sand-stone cliff drinks water thirstily. Pumps would hâve towork night and day to keep water out of the templesbehind their lofty dam. If those pumps were to breakdown and repairs delayed for several days, the structureswould be flooded. I entertained an aesthetic doubt also.The temples had been designed to be seen from the Nile,looming up in stately grandeur. If one had the first viewof them from a boat moored above at a 160-foot dam,they would seem to shrink into insignificance inside adeep well. In the end the chief difficulty was that theestimated cost of the coffer dam started at $60,000,000and went beyond $80,000,000 as revisions and highercosts appeared.The alternative to a dam was a scheme so audaciousthat it inspired both ardent imagination and ardent fear.That plan was to eut each temple loose from the moun-tain in a single pièce and to jack it 180 feet up in the air.After months of repeated tiny liftings, each structurewould stand on steel and concrète pillars facing anartificial shore of the new lake. No engineer had everlifted 250,000 tons before, and no one had ever attemptedto raise a tremendous weight to such a height. Yetengineers were fascinated by the proposai and declared itentirely feasible. "It is simply a matter of extrapolation:if you need ten hydraulic jacks to lift 6,000 tons, you usemore than four hundred jacks to lift 250,000 tons." TheItalian genius who devised this plan was gifted withdaring and imagination. He was not equally gifted inmaking an estimate of costs. Hère again the indicatedamount was going above $80,000,000 when the proposaiwas dropped.The Swedish alternativeDebate over thèse two schemes came close to disturb-ing the harmony of the committee. Yet even though theproposai for a dam was called "the French plan" and thatfor élévation "the Italian plan," judgments were formedon professional grounds rather than along national Unes.The archaeologists, except for myself, wanted to leave Large temple at Abu Simbel dwarfs humans before it.the temples in place behind a dam. The engineers and Iwanted to lift them. This was the only time that we failedto reach a consensus by discussion, had to hâve a vote,and were obliged to report in our minutes that there was adifférence of opinion. At other times we were united inwhat we called "the spirit of Nubia," a common eager-ness to finish a stupendous job as quickly and as well aspossible.There may hâve been a little weariness when we finallyaccepted the so-called Swedish plan, which was to eutthe temples into blocks, convey them to higher ground intrucks, and there reassemble them. We had given suchintense concern to studying and supporting previousschemes that this slicing up of the structures seemed likean act of desperation. Despite assurances, we were notconvinced that the friable sandstone would take kindly tosawing. Surely there would be considérable loss along theseams. With the wisdom of hindsight we can now see thatthis method has proved to be brilliantly successful.The ultimate cost of the rescue of Abu Simbel was inthe range of $40,000,000, of which the United ArabRepublic paid more than half. I was sometimes con-fronted with aggressive questions: "Was it worth it?" or"Couldn't the money hâve been better spent on the needsof the modem world?" If the costs of the total Nubiancampaign are measured against the costs of feedinghungry children on the one hand, or against the cost of anuclear submarine on the other hand, the debate can beendless. Yet in défense one can say that for the things ofthe spirit — the great artistic achievements of man overthe âges — there has never been so great and so successfula venture. At a time when the nations of the world were11grimly competing with one another in military expendi-tures, they were able to agrée on a cultural enterprise.This was a vigorous assertion that things of emotionaland spiritual value go beyond mère price tags. Within theNubian campaign Abu Simbel was the dramatic sign thatmen could still agrée on cultural matters.Doing the impossibleAlthough we should ne ver hâve admitted it publicly,the full program of the Nubian campaign had seemedimpossible at the start. That made the success ail themore gratifying. Within a five-year limit not ail of thetemples could be saved, but eighteen of them, in whole orin part, were snatched to safety. That majestic monster,Abu Simbel, was reconstructed with skill. Not ail of theexcavation was carried out by experienced hands. Yet itwas extraordinary that more than thirty expéditions froma score of différent countries were able to take the fieldand to do a respectable job. Practically every one of thesites which that survey by young men had labeled asworth examining has been excavated. Not ail of the rockinscriptions and drawings, a fascinating répertoire ofgraffiti, could be discovered and copied before the dead-line. They often lay in out-of-the-way nooks. Yet hun-dreds of new ones were found and recorded. In ail, therenever before was so concerted and so comprehensive anarchaeological activity.By 1965 the task of the Consultative Committee hadbeen completed. The remaining problems could be as-signed to smaller teams. One team, composed of engineers, dealt with physical problems, the technicalmethods of cutting up the two Abu Simbel temples,transporting them, and rebuilding them in an artificial hill.I found myself a member of what was called the land-scaping group. Although I might be able to distinguishbetween yew and rue or between sedge and hedge, myexpérience in landscaping was nil.This assignment proved to be more interesting andmore rigorous than the work on the Consultative Committee. Instead of being confined to^ hôtel room in Cairo,we held our meetings on trips to and from Abu Simbel. Incongenial company that open-air excursion was a plea-sure. Our government boat was no luxury liner, but it didget us from the high dam to Abu Simbel and back, and wewere too engrossed with our business to demand relaxedcomfort. On the other hand, it was exhausting to scram-ble around a mountainside in summer températures. We were in session in the Abu Simbel rest house onone August afternoon when the température outside was122 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air-conditioning ap-paratus was not working.No reconstructed monument can ever look exactly likeits original, but the façades and the interiors of the twotemples are faithful to their former appearance. Thevisitor sees no marked sign of rebuilding. However, thecliff that enshrines the Great Temple is of necessitylower, because a monument built up out of eut blockscannot carry the same weight as a solid hill. Thereforethat façade does not seem to soar up as high as it used to.The cliff is also somewhat shorter in its southern extension. Some of the scènes and inscriptions carved into therock surface hâve had to be put elsewhere or crowdedtogether a little. That caused us much debate and regretthat we could not présent things just as they were threethousand years ago.The façades use the same stones in the same places asthe original, and the seams between the blocks are veryunobtrusive, so that the immédiate framing of the twotemples looks quite natural. The rest of the cliff is built upof random blocks of sandstone, graded away from thefaçades in quality of précision, so that there is somefeeling of an artificial wall in the more distant setting ofthe façades.My Egyptian colleague from the Consultative Committee, Anwar Shoukry, was the résident archaeologist atAbu Simbel during the dismantling and reconstruction.His dogged insistence that carved surface be treated likedélicate china and his détermination to effect a trueensemble were blessings to the work. The Swedishconsulting architects and the Italian quarrymen andmasons were also the right men in the right places. TheItalians treated stone with loving care.Two hours too briefMany tourists now visit Abu Simbel by the fast hydrofoil boats. The trip from the First Cataract takes fivehours, they hâve about two hours to visit the temples,and then they hâve the five-hour return trip. The touristboat is moored directly in front of the site, though we hadrecommended a harbor some distance away. The touristwould then hâve lost another half-hour of his visit intravel to and from the monuments. With grumbling, wehad to accept this. But Abu Simbel deserves more than atwo-hour visit.12What is auniversity pressivorth?The director of the rnirersitu of Chieaao Press présentsan off-eamera aeeount of hoir, irhu and whenthose erudite roiumes aet publishedBy Morris PhilipsonMorris Philipson speaks to Press personnel. Oscar Wilde's epigram: "A man who knows the price ofeverything and the value of nothing" is his answer to thequestion: "What is a cynic?" It is a damning définition;but then, the person who knows the value of everythingand the price of nothing is equally half-baked. The opposite of the cynic is the man with his head in theclouds — highminded but unworldly. It is no more désirable to hâve your heart in the right place but no money inyour pocket than it is to hâve your eye on the bankbalance but no idea of what to spend it on.In this sensé, the essential question, from the stand-Mr. Philipson (ab '49, am '52), director of the University ofChicago Press since 1967, combines in his backgroundmany of the several and various éléments involved in auniversity publishing opération — writing (five books, plusshort stories and articles); publishing (Vintage, Knopf,Modem Library, Random House, Panthéon, BasicBooks); and teaching (Hofstra, Juilliard, Hunter), plus aphD from Columbia. The article printed hère is a great-ly abridged version of a more extensive analysis he puttogether of the university press as a unique institution insociety.13point of a university press, is: What is university publishing worth? The issue is not whether scholarship is worth-while; that is assumed. It is whether universities shouldbe in the business of publishing scholarly works.Influencing university financial décisions are two ines-capable truths which apply at ail times. One is thateverything costs money (which is not limitless). Theother is the impossibility of doing everything that every-one desires (because many of those desires are incompatible).What are some of the purposes of a university press?One, traditionally the most important, is that a universityenhance its prestige by the support of publications mak-ing significant original contributions to scholarship. Thedésire to do so is satisfied by the pleasure it takes inpublishing whatever is important in advancing an académie discipline. This is much more often than not out ofstep with what appears to be désirable at the momentfrom the point of view of the gênerai public, simply bydéfinition, because no need cornes to be commonly feltuntil someone proposes a new idea in such a way as toengage popular concern.It goes without saying that there cannot be popularappréciation of such novelty, innovation, originality, orimportance because only the free-lance intellectual andthe académie scholar know which questions in any givendiscipline are the ones they are most eager to hear ofanswers to. It is exactly in this sensé that scholarlypublishing is specialized.The thought vanguardIn other words, what is relevant in popular culturetoday may be anywhere from ten to a hundred yearsbehind the times in regard to originality of thought.During the past four years, the two most obvious examples are public concern for environmental studies, underthe concept of ecology, and for the life of Negroes in theUnited States under the concept of black studies. Thepublications of American commercial presses are anywhere from ten to forty years behind original scholarlywork published by university presses in precisely thosefields.The popular mind readily grants the distinction between pure and applied science and recognizes that whatseems arcane, obscure, and devoid of usefulness to otherthan an élite minority of scholars in one génération maybecome of inestimable value at a practical level to a latergénération. Commercial publishers and the public at largeare quite willing to leave such works, ostensibly devoidof immédiate cultural or financial return, to the presses ofuniversities for them to subsidize "uneconomically."In fulfilling the désire for novelty a university pressmay appear to take on an aspect of playing roulette, for itis one thing to believe in the originality of every work it publishes, while it is another accurately to predict importance.Quite properly, it is hoped that each one of the bookspublished by a university makes its contribution to aspecialized audience no matter how small; but whether abook may hâve significance above and beyond that cannot be anticipated with prescience. The story cornes tomind of a movie producer reported in a newspaperinterview as saying he had five films in the works thatyear and one of them would make $10,000,000. Whenasked, "Which one?" he shrugged his shoulders and said,"That's the only thing I can't predict."When Prof essor Stanley Elkins' monograph, an experi-ment in psycho-history entitled Slavery, was first published in 1959, it was reasonable that the hardcoverédition numbered 2,500 copies. Since its appearance in apaperback édition in 1963, it has steadily sold approxi-mately 30,000- copies a year. When the new translationsof The Complète Greek Tragédies, edited by David Greneand Richmond Lattimore, first began to appear, only 2,000copies of each volume were printed. In the past twelveyears, in a variety of éditions, the cumulative sales hâvecorne to total more than 1,000,000 copies.For scholarly publishing, importance is essentially amatter of influence in advancing académie fields. If thiscoordinates with commercial success as well, so muchthe better. One financially successful publication mayenable a press to afford five to ten works a year which itotherwise could not pay for.It is only the books that fall into this exceedingly smallmargin of ail university press publishing which commercial publishers begrudge them. And that grudgingcriticism of unfair compétition, because of non-profitstatus, bespeaks only their passion for profits and not aconcern for the distinction that accrues to those whoinvest in intellectual advance.The financial security of a university press is a verydifférent matter indeed. Although it is not a businessundertaken to make a profit, it should be operated in asbusinesslike a manner as its staff is equal to. But whether,as in the case of the University of Chicago, its press goesback to the 1890s or, like Howard University in Washington, D. C, it is about to establish one in 1972 — thesimple fact is that any university must "lose" money inorder to found a press. Roughly spéaking, it must beprepared to invest between $100,000 and $250,000 annu-ally for at least five years before its press can hâveenough of a backlist to approach the condition of earningits own keep.The break-even budgetIt is possible that "earning its own keep" may corne tomean operating on a break-even budget. That may evenbecome the requirement the parent university places on14its press, once its volume of business has arrived at thepoint where income from the sales of its books is equal tomaintaining its overhead costs plus its investment in thepublication of new books in the course of a given fiscalyear. Beyond that, it is conceivable, but much less likely,that a university press may, over and above breakingeven, operate with a surplus which then can be con-tributed to university gênerai funds.But there is no shame to be imputed to a university if itknowingly décides to support a press operating at adéficit, any more than it would be deemed shameful for itto finance an outpatient clinic which might operate at adéficit. A university is not a profit-making organizationalthough, if it is managed badly enough, it could go intobankruptcy.Contribution of craft and artfulnessThe process of publishing is not the mechanical one ofbeing a téléphone wire contributing nothing to the message conveyed or delivered; it is an opération dépendenton craft and artfulness exercised in such a way as tocontribute to the message itself . It consists of an elabor-ate set of détails, no one of which is important unless it isoverlooked or poorly executed. *At least, an author may show appréciation for thefunctions performed by his university press — knowingthe quality of the work that has gone into editing, design,and manufacture. At best, he may even know somethingof the marketing functions — of sales, publicity, promotion, and advertising; and of the business functions — ofwarehousing, billing, and shipping, to say nothing of thepréparation of information regarding sales and royalties.Ail of this being conceded, it is now appropriate to askwhat price this costs the university.To the uninitiated mind, the only costs attending apublication are the bills from the printer — the spécifiecosts for manufacturing stock of the physical object. Infact, those make up less than half of the costs of a book.What one thinks of as the printer's bills are dividedbetween composition or engraving, on the one hand, andédition costs, Le., paper, printing, and binding, on theother, totaling roughly 45% of the publisher's costs. Onemust then add approximately 10% for royalty. Thus,about 55% of whatever a publisher takes in on the sale ofany copy goes to cover what is called cost ofgoods sold.This is about half of his total costs, because ail othercosts are dealt with in the category of overhead. That isthe half no one thinks about. It is made up of the salariesof every member of the staff; the expenses for office andwarehouse space; advertising, direct mail, and catalogs;heat, electricity, and water; the préparation of invoicesfor each order; wrapping for each package, and so on.This cornes to approximately 45% of costs. In otherwords, for every dollar that is taken in, 55 cents goes out to cover the cost of goods sold and 45 cents goes intopaying for overhead. Fortunately for the university pressit is not necessary to provide an extra incrément for thestockholder.Overhead costs must be thought of as the amount ofmoney which makes publication of any book possible;the cost of goods sold must be thought of as the amountof money that makes any particular book actual.The shocker for most people who hâve no directexpérience of publishing is the answer to the followingquestion: Given a broad average of expenses, whatwould you say it costs to publish a university press book?Answer: $15,000. The broad average would show a bookof about 300 pages; the composition cost would be atleast $3,000; the édition cost for a first printing of 2,500copies would be about $4,000. Royalty on such a printingwould corne to about $1,000. That totals $8,000. Overhead would amount to 45% of the cost of goods sold,bringing the total to approximately $15,000.Ten times $15,000 is $150,000. It follows then that inthe first year a university wishes to subsidize the publication of ten books it must be prepared to spend in theneighborhood of $150,000.A little learning is still a dangerous thing. If a universityopérâtes one year on a budget of $110,000,000 and has afaculty of 1,100 members, it becomes more foolish thannot to say that it costs $100,000 per man-year, unless onetakes into account the distinction between how much ofthe university's budget goes into support and how muchinto salaries. By the same token, the area of overheadwhich makes the opération of the press possible is opento a great variety of interprétations.Publisher's alternativesNo two publishing houses calculate their overheadcosts in exactly the same way. There are fixed costs andthere are variable costs. Should the total in any one fiscalyear be evenly distributed over each of the books published that year, or should the allocation of those costs begiven a différent percentage in every single case? Howone answers that question détermines the list price ofeach book.Should the percentage of overhead costs be broughtdown as the number of books published goes up? Obviously, if an overhead budget of $75,000 enables a university to publish ten books in one year, it might be possiblefor that same staff to handle fifteen books the next year.But then the variable costs must be fudged in order tomake up the différence. For example, if there is a budgetfor advertising ten books and that same amount is to beapplied to fifteen books, then one way of handling itwould be for each book to receive one-third less money.The variations are endless.But the concept of economy does not mean doing15something as cheaply as possible. It means using financial resources as effectively as possible.Setting a list price on university press books is to inviteunending négative criticism. Of course, it cornes from thebook buyer who is shocked that anything costs more than$5.00; but to the publisher it cornes first from the appalledauthor himself who, either with outrage or with anguish,asks: "Why, when the book is only 300 pages long, areyou asking $12.50 a copy?"Just as the uninitiated assume that printing bills are theonly publishing costs, so they assume that the length of abook is the only déterminant of its price, whereas whatconditions its price is the relationship among (1) the costof composition; (2) the number of copies of the firstprinting (édition cost); (3) the author's royalty ; and (4) thediscount at which it will be sold.Factors of pricingThe discount (least of ail taken into account by theoutsider) refers to the différence between the list priceand the amount of money that the publisher actuallyreceives on each sale, depending on whether it might be atextbook sold at 20% less than list price, a specialist orprofessional book sold at about 30% off list price, or agênerai (so-called "trade") book sold at 40% or more offlist price to wholesalers and book store buyers. Whole-saler discounts are frequently higher than thèse.The aspect of this interrelationship of the four condi-tioning factors that is most striking can be seen in thefollowing way: The composition cost of some $3,000 forsetting type for the pages of , let us say, a 300-page bookis the same whether the first printing is for 2,000 copies orfor 200,000 copies. When it is reasonable for the firstprinting to consist of only 2,500 copies, then the entire$3,000 investment in composition must be divided amongonly those 2,500 copies, increasing the list price to amuch greater degree than the share of composition costbuilt into the price of almost any commercial publisher'sbook (the first printing of which is not likely to be lessthan 6,000 copies).It should be self-evident that the market expectationsfor each book as expressed in the publisher's gamble onthe quantity of the first printing are most important indetermining its list price. If it could be believed thatwithin the first five years of publication Archaic RomanReligion by Georges Dumézil or Education and SocialChange in Ghana by Philip J. Foster or Dynamics ofNuclear Reactors by David L. Hetrick would be likely tosell 20,000 copies, then issuing a first édition in a printingof that quantity would enable the price to be much lowerthan each one of those books carries. But the veryspecialization of the market anticipated for the sale ofsuch works requires that the buyer share more of the financial risk with the sponsoring university than thepurchaser of a popular book has to share with the commercial publisher.One measure of the meaning of specialization might bemade sharp by pointing out that in 1900, when the population of the United States was approximately 100,000,000, it was appropriate for the University of ChicagoPress to publish a first printing of John Dewey's TheSchool and Society in an édition of 2,500 copies. In 1972,when the population of the United States is over 200,-000,000, it is still appropriate for the average scholarlymonograph to be published in a first printing of 2,500copies. The number of scholars may hâve increasedabsolutely with the total number of the population; butthe fragmentation of académie disciplines has resulted ina relative number which has not increased at ail.Almost no author who was ever born, however, imagines that his book has a market of so small a number. Andpublishers hâve been proved wrong on their estimâtes ofaudience. But thèse are the rare exceptions, which iswhat makes the story telling exciting. The nature ofprofessionalism in publishing is precisely to guess ac-curately in a majority of cases.The editorial sélection process is at the heart of suchprofessionalism. In contrast to the péjorative expressionthat university presses publish books no one else (nocommercial publisher) would touch is the actual expérience of university presses, which décline a very muchgreater number of possible publications than they support.The problem of selectivityAt the University of Chicago Press, our records showthat for every book we publish we hâve turned down ten.For every 100 books we publish we hâve turned down1,000 — completed manuscripts, partial manuscripts, proposais, or prospectuses. This deserves to be made explic-it, so that no one misunderstands the function of auniversity press as that of putting out in book form ail ofthe would-be scholarly manuscripts declined or rejectedby commercial publishers.University presses hâve no monopoly on scholarlypublishing. It was at one time said — not without justification — that Alfred A. Knopf Inc. was the primary publisher of scholarly books in the United States. And stillmore contributions to scholarship are published by uni-versities than by commercial presses. And without thismédium the public distribution and communication of thefindings and spéculations of académies would be restric-ted to a very much more limited scope.If the editorial sélection process is the heart of professionalism in university publishing, then ail universityadministrators must give serious attention to the criticism16voiced by Chester Kerr, director of the Yale UniversityPress, in the May 7, 1972, issue of the New York TimesBook Review, where he is quoted as saying: 'Too manybooks are being published. The whole System that re-quires scholars to be measured by publication is respon-sible for more books than are wanted. . . . Too damnedmany inferior works are published just to get a promotion."It is the dependency of the f aculty sélection process onthe principle of "publish or perish" that he challenges.Reconciliation of conûicting aimsThe crux of the matter, as it émerges again and again, isthe question, What is wanted? The young académiewants promotion to tenure; the scholar in each fieldwants anything and everything that can contribute to theadvancement of his discipline; the publisher wants thebooks that will keep his opération financially sol vent; theadministrator wants what will redound to the prestige ofhis university as a whole.Thèse are four frequently incompatible desires. But ifthose who are responsible for making a university presspossible choose to maintain it at ail, then the resolution ofconflicts among thèse four conflicting desires for "what iswanted" must rest on the judgment of the director andeditorial staff of the press, with the approval of theirf aculty board. If they choose well, they reaffirm theirprofessionalism; if they choose badly enough of the time,they are doomed. But the possibility of choosing welldépends on the coordination of publishing know-howwith the sensé of scholarship that is what distinguishesthe university press from a commercial publishing house.It is as easy to make fun of scholarly books as it issimple for the outsider to make fun of anything he doesnot comprehend (especially if he believes that he willne ver be on the inside of it). It is easy to caricature booksselected for publication by university presses as "hard-core pedantry." A monograph on Byzantine manuscriptillumination or the élaboration of an hypothesis explain-ing the enserfment of the Russian peasantry during theseventeenth century is as easy to sneer at as — as what?— as if it were the play thing of the rich, a trifle, aFaberge Easter egg for the czar, an expense of spirit in awaste of shame (when there 's real work to be done).Imagine the guff aws of laughter in the editorial officesat Random House or McGraw-Hill or Little, Brown whenyoung Professor So-and So's letter appears asking if theywould be interested in pursuing for publication his 600-page, double-spaced typescript interpreting the interrela-tionships among the novels of Virginia Woolf, or theprocess of innovation diffusion in rural Sweden, or theadaptation of Roman law in the évolution of the HolyRoman Empire. Silly, isn't it?! Not only because it can't make money for a publisher, but isn't it silly in itself?— about as laughable as the désire to make money is to aCistercian monk.Thorough enjoyment of the joke requires membershipin a différent club, with acceptance of a totally différentset of values.University presses do not publish everything that isoffered to them, any more than they hire every one whocornes to the personnel office and asks for a job. Thesélection process for publication is exactly analogous tothe ways in which an académie cornes to be hired as amember of the f aculty of a particular university.In another article about publishing, in the New YorkTimes of April 10, 1972, Mr. John Macrae, representingE. P. Dutton, is quoted as saying: "I find that the scholarly book — not yet a collège text because it's only theleading edge of some idea — has very little chance of amarket now."In many cases, the better it is in terms of being anoriginal contribution, the harder it is for such a book tofind a market. And I guess that's what bothers us, and itplagues one and disappoints one."Wisdom in managementThat is precisely why university presses must continueto be significant. There is nothing derogatory in sayingthat they publish books no one else would be willing topublish, because the members of the "else" are primarilyconcerned with immédiate commercial returns. Obviously, the university press ought to be operated economical-ly. Still, even if it is very well managed, it is no spécialpoint of pride that it has a minimal déficit or no déficit atail. Good management should be taken for granted.But just as universities do not hâve a monopoly ofscholarly publishing, so is it true that commercial publishers do not hâve a monopoly of good management.The fantasy that "professionalism" in publishing is lim-ited to a dozen high-powered commercial houses in NewYork and Boston is a myth. Infinitely more importantthan the concern over each university press being operated in as professional and économie a way as possible isthe idea that every one be managed in those ways that aremost appropriate for the parent university. There is noone best way to operate a press, either commercial oruniversity-sponsored, any more than there is any onebest way to teach a particular course offered at a university.Implicit in ail of the foregoing remarks has been theassumption of the intrinsic value of scholarship. But, inaction, that value dépends on the exercise of a networkof human beings who do so appreciate it. Similarly, if onerecognizes the values that a publishing program has to itsparent university and is conscious of the costs to thatsponsor, then it should be self-evident that the worth of a17university press is as relative — Le., conditioned by thechaos of incompatible social demands — as every othervirtue in life.In a republic besieged by highminded and raucouslyvocal innocence, those who are ultimately responsiblefor the opération of a university may be unnerved by thethought that $15,000 would keep a Vietnamese villagealive for one year, support cancer research, or operate aday care nursery. Should one publish Keats and HisPoetry or The Shape of Utopia or Bantu Bureaucracyunder those circumstances? No matter how painful toidealism, there is no contest. The trustées, the administration, the f aculty, and the student body are not em- powered to use their university's resources to save theworld. They are charged with a mission to contribute toresearch and teaching. What they do hère and now maycorne to make possible a better life for every family forthe next 500 years.One may be appalled by gruesome social problems; butit would be worse to transform universities into agenciesof social welfare than it would be to support académiescholarship and its public dissémination, because such atransformation would eliminate the possibility of enhanc-ing human life through systematic knowledge. But everything costs money; and those who are at the growing tipof something are necessarily out on a limb.Election of four new trustéesadds three alumni to boardMax Palevsky, who has interests in both the data processing board of trustées earlier this year. Addition of the fîrst-listedand motion picture fields, Arthur Rasmussen, chairman and three of the group brings to 31 the number of alumni trust-chief executive officer of Household Finance Corp., Robert ees, their class vintages ranging from '06 to '53. Following isW. Reneker, président and chief executive office of Swift & a tabulation of the présent board membership, with theCo., and Edgar B. Stern, Jr., whose interests are in the degrees and years indicated for those members who arebroadeasting industry, were elected to the University's alumni:TRUSTEES LIFE TRUSTEESRobert O. Anderson, ab'39 Edward H. Levi, phB'32, jd'35 William BentonNorman Barker, Jr., ab'44, mba'53 John G, Neukom, phB'34 Wm. McCormick BlairB. E. Bensinger Max Palevsky, phB'48, sb'48 Norton Clapp, phB'28, jd'29Charles Benton Ellmore C. Patterson, ab'35 Dwight M. Cochran, phB'27Edward McCormick Blair Charles H. Percy, ab'41 Lowell T. CoggeshallPhilip D. Block, Jr. Hart Perry, am'39 Fairfax M. CôneRobert E. Brooker Peter G. Peterson, mba'51 James H. DouglasCharles L. Brown George A. Poole Cyrus S. ÈatonJames W> Button, ab'39 Jay A. Pritzker Howard GoodmanMargaret B. Cameron George A. Ranney Porter M. JarvisMarvin Chandler Arthur E. Rasmussen, am'43 William V. KahlerKenneth B. Clark Joseph Regenstein, Jr. Ferd KramerEmmett Dedmon, ab'39 Robert W. Reneker, phB'34 Glen A. Lloyd, jd'23Gaylord Donnelley (Chairman) John D. Rockefeller iv Earle Ludgin, x'20Kingman Douglass, Jr. Edgar B. Stern, Jr. John L. McCaffreyJames C. Downs, Jr. Gardner H. Stern David B. McDougalW. Léonard Evans, Jr. J. Harris Ward John F. Merriam, phB'25Marshall Field, x'63 George H. Watkins, x'36 Harold A. Moore, phB'15Katharine Meyer Graham, ab'38 Christopher W. Wilson James L. Palmer, am'23William B. Graham, sb'32, jd'36 Frank H. Woods Albert Pick, Jr., p1ib'17Robert C. Gunness Joseph S. Wright David Rockefeller, p1id'40Robert P. Gwinn, phB'29 Albert W. Sherer, ab'06Irving B. Harris Hermon D. SmithStanley G. Harris, Jr. HONORARY TRUSTEES Sydney Stein, Jr., phB'23Ben W. Heineman George W. Beadle Frank L. Sulzberger, x'07Robert S. Ingersoll Robert M. Hutchins J. Howard WoodDavid M. Kennedy Lawrence A. Kimpton Théodore 0. Yntema, am'25, phD'29'BooksThe Papers of Adlai E. StevensonVol. I: Beginnings of Education,1900-1941Walter Johnson, Editor; Carol Evans,Assistant EditorIn this, the first of what will be an eight-volume set, Walter Johnson (am'38,pIid'41), formerly a member of the University's history department, now teachingat the University of Hawaii, has put together a fascinating collection of AdlaiStevenson's letters, writings and speechesthrough his first 41 years. (Actually thefirst extant communication in his ownhandwriting is a note to his father scrib-bled in 1907.) Mr. Johnson's collaboratoris Carol Evans, secretary to Adlai Stevenson from 1948 to 1961.In The Papers of Adlai E. Stevenson(Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1972. $15)Johnson has enlisted much help fromStevenson's friends and members of hisfamily, and the documents, in addition tothrowing light on his development fromChoate, Princeton, Harvard and theBloomington Pantagraph to young lawyer,and emerging political and civic leader,also reveal Stevenson's own perceptive-ness and humanity.It is nearly impossible to provide a représentative sample of the contents of abook which spans such a long period ofdevelopment, but among the mémorableitems is the one reproduced below, one ofa séries of editorials written for the Pantagraph in 1925 about the famous "monkeytrial" of John Scopes (X'29).Written more than two décades beforehe won the governorship of Illinois, itsharply opposes the prosecution view inthe case expressed by William JenningsBryan, a youthful idol of Stevenson (andthe man whose Presidential running mate in 1900 was Stevenson's grandfather). Fol-lowing is the text of the editorial, headed,"Genesis vs. Evolution":A great Englishman once saidthat "the ignorance of the so-called educated classes is stu-pendous." But quite apart fromthe médiéval aspect of the greatbattle between today and yes-terday, Genesis vs. Evolution,Tenn., 1925, there is a funda-mental aspect of this trial whichis equally humiliating.The law prohibits the teachingof any theory that dénies the divine création of man as taughtin the Bible. It was passed bythe gênerai assembly of thestate of Tennessee, composedpresumably of conscientiousAmericans of better than average intelligence. The characterof this measure is precautiona-ry. The good people of Tennessee feel that the tenets of science are iniquitous and apt tovitiate the minds and morals oftheir vigorous intelligent youngmen and women. The conclusion is then that the solons ofTennessee feel that anything butthe literal acceptance of theBible and the traditional tenetsof faith is subversive of themoral and spiritual public wel-fare.This was exactly the state ofmind which gave an impulse tothe Inquisition in Europe, par-ticularly in Spain. But that was500 years ago. The Bible is anhistorical and Iiterary monument. But it has been the un-challenged "best seller" of theâges, not because of its historical and Iiterary value, but because it has revealed the word of God and pointedxout theclear, unequivocal road to hap-piness thru the life of Christ. Ifthe children of Tennessee findthe Bible any less puissant as aguide to a better and more ful-some life because they hâveevolved from the amoeba ratherthan from ready made mencreated by God it is a sad com-mentary on our spiritual and intellectual independence.And incidentally, if our mental processes as a nation hâvebecome so devitalized that wemust be blindfolded and led bythe hand, then it is high timethat those champions of demo-cracy, who seize each patrioticoccasion to reaffirm their beliefin the infallibility of the greatpublic mind, view with alarmour latter-day dégradation. Tru-ly, if men and women can notdistinguish between right andwrong and profit from the Bibleunless they know whetherGenesis or évolution is right,then we hâve reached a sadstate of incompétence.The SettlersMeyer LevinThis is a heart felt novel epitomizing themigration, in the first quarter of the centu-ry, of Jews from eastern Europe to whatwas to become Israël. Mr. Levin (phB'24)présents a saga of one large family's exploits, joys, sorrows and relationshipsacross a panorama which retains in sweepwhat it may lack in the deep portrayal ofindividual personalities. A thought andemotion-stirring pageant, it might well bethe scénario of an epic film (New York:Simon & Schuster, 1972. $10).19JxttersRatner draws praiseto the editor; I want to thank the University of Chicago Magazine for an oppor-tunity to read Richard A. Ratner's article"Drugs and despair in Vietnam." I foundit, after scanning the usual slick news-magazine articles on the subject, mostdown-to-earth and unconcealing. I don'tknow Ratner, I know only what news-paper readers know about the subject, butI feel informed.PETER GRAM SWING, PhD'69Swarthmore, Pa.Part of Ratner's thesis 'unbelievable9to the editor: My wife read Dr.Ratner's "Drugs and Despair in Vietnam"(May/June) and brought it to me with theclassic remark: "That fellow ought to seea psychiatrist!" So after that, I had to readit myself .Well, it wasn't that bad.In fact, I found myself agreeing withDr. Ratner ail the way until he got to P.22, "Hostility relocated." Then he pro-posed that the despair of the young arisesfrom the "realization" that their society isvictimizing them, working to destroythem. With which I go along.What bothered my wife, and fascinatedme . . . although Dr. Ratner probablydidn't think very hard about it when hewrote . . . was the explanation of the"realization." It seems that our "establishment," Le., my génération, in a sort ofsubconscious fashion was afraid of thetensions building up among the young andwanted to get it discharged in a safe place,Le., Vietnam. As Dr. Ratner put it, "Whatbetter way to cool tensions betweenblacks and whites than to unité themagainst yellows?" And so we sent ouryoung men out to die in Vietnam.Well, my comments are naturally suspect. I'm over thirty, alas; I belong to the"establishment" génération. Worse still,I'm a member in good standing of theMilitary-Industrial Complex (just retiredon 30 from the Navy), I'm a G.P. {Le., anM.D.), and we ail know the stupid ideasG. P. 's hâve about psychiatry.But despite being a G.P., I take psychiatry and the social sciences very seriously. And I hâve something to say that connectsDr. Ratner's explanation of Vietnam withhis spécial field of interest, Le., drugs anddespair and that "realization" behindthem.1 . The theory sounds like hogwash to me.I know it's supposed to be in my subconscious that we sent our young men toVietnam for our own safety against racialtensions. I don't know what kind of déniaiwould mean anything. Ail I can say is thatthe idea doesn't seem unthinkable, or horrible, or impossible; it just doesn't seembelievable. My feelings are exactly whatI'd expect to feel if somebody brought suitagainst me for raping Mrs. Truman.2. The idea doesn't sound like it originatedwith Dr. Ratner.It fits perfectly with current revolution-ary cant. Don't trust anybody over thirty.Vietnam is a scheme of our M-I Complexto crush the colored races. The U.S. isthe most arrogant, exploitai ve, atrocity-committing power of the 20th Century,Hitler not excluded.I'm reminded of popular psychiatrie articles of World War II that were supposedto explain the Baddies of that war. Afterail, it wasn't 'chic' to argue that any"races," even Germans and Japanese, justnaturally were impérialiste and atrocity-prone. So the Nazis were a resuit of theGerman patriarchal family, where theMAN was the absolute lord of the home.And the Japs? — ah, the Japs were toilet-trained far too early. It seems that Japanese mothers quickly grew tired of urinetrickling down their backs and started thetraining as soon as possible.I know, it sounds ridiculous to me, too.But it was seriously advanced by profes-sional psychiatrists during WW II, andplease note that like Dr. Ratner's theory, itfitted precisely into the requirements ofcontemporary intelligentsia "chic". . .3. The U.S. has been in a "communications explosion " almost since 1900.I think most historians will agrée onthis — and also, that radical advances incommunication tend to be followed byprofound changes in the moral underpin-ning of society, and thèse in turn, by vol-canic social changes. Thus the perfection of writing Systems afew centuries B.C. was followed by theappearance of Great Book religions, withsocial changes that smeared most laterpages of history with blood. The inventionof mass communication (Gutenberg, about1450) was followed in a remarkably shorttime by the Protestant Reformation andnumerous libéral révolutions. And in ourown century the communications explosion (by no means limited to the inventionof radio and TV) has been attended by thelabor movement, the civil rights move-ment, women's lib, the gay révolution,etc., and the end is not in sight.4. The U.S. tried to conduct a militaryopération — believed to be neces-sary — without a formai déclaration of war.It therefore had to permit the communications média to operate without the usualwartime restrictions.For the sake of argument, let us suppose that Freud and the subconscious hadnothing to do with the Kennedy-Johnsondécisions about Vietnam. What other explanation might there be? Since I was inthe military, let me try my hand at the job.The Hitler expérience proved that it ispossible for a totalitarian state to try toimpose its delightful System upon thewhole world, Le., we can't blâme everything bad that happens upon our paranoidEstablishment. Moreover, Hitler startedout grabbing a bit hère and there, with aline and a technique extraordinarily likethose of the Communist movement. Andthe Communists, likewise, were grabbing abit hère and there, quite like Hitler . . .while the Vietnam grab wasn't obviouslydifférent in any fundamental way fromprevious grabs such as South Korea . . .So even if we substituted a soulless computer for Kennedy and Johnson, it's notinconceivable that the computer wouldhâve involved the U.S. in Vietnam, in-dependently of Freud.After ail, it is one of the Chief Executive 's duties to préserve the national in-dependence of the U.S. A.** It happens to be my personal belief that ifMoscow does hâve Hitler-like ambitions (andyou'll admit they make the idea convincing),there isn't anything we can do to stop20On the other hand, with absolute weap-ons in both sides' hands — the computermight also hâve decided against a formaidéclaration of war on any party. Thisdoesn't handicap a totalitarian Systemmuch; their normal condition is a sort ofinformai war against everybody, with thecommunications média pretty much throt-tled ail of the time. But in a democracylike the U.S., you hâve to be at total warto get even a moderate amount of coopération from the mass média.So during Vietnam, the média operatedpretty much as usual.5. The média exist in a nexus ofcompétition . . . for the favor of audiences.This is true for ail kinds of communication — commercial and non-commercial,spoken and written and broadcast. If thecustomer wants to be told that the moonis ail green cheese, you'd better humorhim if you want to stay in the communications business.The customer, in turn, knows that whathe does makes no différence to speak of ,regarding great affairs.So it's about ail you can expect if hebothers to vote on élection day. You can'texpect him to do anything hard or labori-ous or painful . . . such as study the realcomplexities of an issue like Vietnam, orweigh alternatives realistically, or makepainful décisions. And if he won't do thatmuch, why shouldn't he please himself? Ifhe wants the moon to be green cheese,why shouldn't he patronize the writers andbroadcasters who say it is green cheeseand give plausible arguments for it? Andreject those who argue against them?6. Vietnam meant that the U.S. had to askthe customers for sacrifices.America was asking Americans to dosomething for America — of the young, torisk their lives in combat. Of mothers, togive up sons; of wives, to give uphusbands; and so on, involving quite alarge part of the customers of the média.Nobody, of course, likes to be asked forthem — Le., even so, Vietnam wasn't much good.But that's not a matter of Freud and the subconscious, merely a différence of opinion aboutstrategy. sacrifices. When asked, most of us wouldlike to discover that the sacrifices are un-necessary. Better still, not just unneces-sary but the S.O.B.s who demanded sacrifices turn out to be the real villains. Andthat the sacrifices are immoral as well asunnecessary. Of course, thèse propositionsshould be backed up by some half -wayplausible argument.That's what U.S. customers wanted . . .and what U.S. média delivered. "Hawks"soon became unpopular in the média, andany "hawks" who failed to get the message found they were losing customersand influence. Over a few years someremarkable changes in belief took place.The Vietnam affair became unnecessary,the paranoid dream of our Military-Industrial Complex. It was also immoral,the crime of the century — not even theNazis were so wicked as our imperialisticestablishment. And think of ail those innocent bystanders! Even when the VietCong was the victimizer, it was reportedin the press as if the U.S. was the causeof it ail. (Obviously the VC wouldn't hâvehad to be so cruel if the U.S. had onlygotten out of Vietnam earlier.)To be sure, it was hard to find half -wayplausible arguments. With ail the labor andrationalizing, they still sounded sick. Butthe inconsistencies and implausibilitieswere pretty well hidden by the sheervolume of the voices repeating them.7. From this arose the 'realization \ thedespair, and the drugs . . .Now do you see, Dr. Ratner, why theyounger génération has lost faith in itsSystem and sees it as the enemy?Why the média blandly ignore the worstthe VC and reds can do, and trumpetevery U.S. sin to the heavens?Not because such things are fair, orobjective, or especially true. But becausethat's what the public wants to hear . . .and the customer is always right. If thisproduces despair and drugs, it's as uncon-scious a thing as Freud ever thought of .ALFRED B. MASON (M.D.), SB'38Brooklyn, NY.Reaction to the Ratner article ran threeto one in agreement with Mr. Swing 's view. Whose ox is gored?to the editor: Professor Anastaplo andother readers may be interested in a remarkable parallel to the récent con-troversy over the Pentagon Papers.On December 4, 1941, only three daysbefore the attack on Pearl Harbor, theChicago Tribune ran a headline article en-titled "FDR's War Plans!" by CheslyManly. Hère is the lead:"Washington, D. C, Dec. 3 — A con-fidential report prepared by the joint Armyand Navy high command by direction ofPrésident Roosevelt calls for AmericanExpeditionary Forces aggregating 5,000,-000 men for a final land offensive againstGermany and her satellites. . . ."One of the few existing copies of thisastonishing document, which representsdécisions and commitments affecting thedestinies of peoples throughout the civi-lized world, became available to the Tribune today. . . ."Secretary of War Stimson's response tothe publication of this document has a ringof familiarity:"What do you think of the patriotism ofa man or newspaper that would take thoseconfidential studies and make them publicto the enemies of this country?"Since the 1941 document discussedplans for the future, as opposed to the record of past décisions, the publication ofthis document posed far more seriousproblems to the government than wouldthe Vietnam study, particularly since atthe time we were at peace with Germany.Indeed Hitler's déclaration of war uponthe United States, issued one week afterthe Tribune article, made spécifie référence to "a plan prepared by PrésidentRoosevelt. . . . revealed in the UnitedStates, according to which his intentionwas to attack Germany by 1943. ..."Nevertheless, there is no record of any-one ever having been prosecuted or en-joined from publication as a resuit of thepublication of thèse war plans.The above information and quotationsare from Facts and Fascism by GeorgeSeldes, New Union Press, New York, '43.GERALD S. GLAZER, SB'63Milwaukee, Wisc.alumni V^(ewsClass notes1 1 john G. Sinclair, sb'11, emeritus"¦- -^ professor of anatomy at the University of Texas Médical Branch was hon-ored recently when he was presented thefirst of an annual award which has beennamed in his honor. The award, the JohnG. Sinclair Award for OutstandingAchievement, was inaugurated by thescientific community of the UTMB chap-ter of Sigma Xi. Dr. Sinclair joined theUTMB f aculty in 1928 when he was ap-pointed chairman of the department ofhistology and embryology. He retired in1958 and has been involved in researchever since. He is considered a leading expert on the embryology of the olfactorySystem.in memoriam: Olive Bickell Griffis,phB'll.1 *} CHARLES E. PALMER, MD'12, Was*** ^ profiled recently in the Ontario(Ore.) Argus Observer in an attempt "topay at least a partial tribute to a physicianand surgeon whose dedication to humanityin this and other régions has touched thelives of many of us." Dr. Palmer first setup médical practice in the town in 1927and has remained there ever since. Ac-cording to the daily newspaper, Dr.Palmer was "so busy with his work thathe didn't realize the years were going byand that he was getting older." He cameto a sudden realization of the passage oftime on his 75th birthday and decided toslow down by relinquishing the helm inthe rooms of surgery to return to a moregênerai practice. But he found himself justas busy as ever, as other surgeons regu-larly sought his counsel and the expérience of his years. He retired from gêneraipractice just a few years ago.1 C colleen browne kilner, PhB'15,-*- J deciding years ago that the varietyof trees in her home town of Kenilworth, 111., was as interesting as those found inher horticulturalist-publisher husband'scollection of rare and beautiful tree books,began writing ecological/historical shortstories about spécifie trees in the village.In April the Kenilworth Historical Societypublished the collection, under the titleKenilworth Tree Stories, in the belief that"the most effective way of interesting citi-zens of ail âges in ecology is to weave thehistory of a town around its trees." In1968 the society published Mrs. Kilner'searlier book, Joseph Sears and His Kenilworth, in honor of the Illinois ses-quicentennial observance.in memoriam: Edward Warszewski,sb'15, md'17; Helen Hinman, PhB'15.1 /l in memoriam: Alfred J. Link,*-" phB'16, jd'18; Lucy Richmond Sam-sel, phB'16; Vernon F. Schwalm, am'16,PhD '26.1 Q RALPH W. GERARD, SB'19, PllD'21,^s md'25, emeritus professor of bio-logical sciences and former dean of thegraduate division, University of Californiaat Irvine, has been selected as distin-guished alumnus of 1972 by the alumni association of Rush Médical Collège. Dr.Gérard, internationally recognized re-searcher on the brain and behavior, wasthe University of Chicago alumni medalistin 1967 and a member of UC's physiologyf aculty from 1928-'52.in memoriam: Ida Pauline Haller,phB'19; Otto Rhinehart Thome, am'19.OA NEIL C. HUTSINPILLAR, AM'20, has** "been awarded an honorary doctorof letters degree by Wabash Collège,Crawfords ville, Ind., where he taught English from 1920 until his retirement in1952.benjamin h. willier, p1id'20, professoremeritus of biology at the Johns HopkinsUniversity, has been elected to member- ship in the prestigious American Academyof Arts and Sciences, the second oldestlearned society in the country. A specialistin the field of developmental biology, Dr.Willier is a member of the National Academy of Sciences and was editor of theQuarterly Review of Biology from 1941 to1957.in memoriam: Joseph A. Allen, p1ib'20;James B. Friauf, x'20.O 1 vivian carter mason, p1ib'21, di-** rector of the division of social service for the welfare department in NewYork City, is the first woman and the firstblack person to hold this position. Mrs.Mason is a member of the Norfolk (Va.)board of éducation and served for sixyears on the board of directors of theSouthern Régional Council of Atlanta, Ga.Last October she was named the outstanding newsmaker of the year by theVirginia Press Women.in memoriam: Ellen Gleason Conklin,phB'21.'l'I ruel Churchill, sb'22, professor^^ emeritus of mathematics at the University of Michigan, is the author of Oper-ational Mathematics, just published by thecollège division of McGraw-Hill.john n. charters, am'22, retired, jour-neyed to the Midway in August from hishome in Sarasota, Fia., to attend the UCsummer commencement exercises, inwhich an mba degree was conferred uponhis son thomas charters. The youngerMr. Charters has accepted a job with theFirst National Bank of New York.fritz orin crisler, phB'22, retiredUniversity of Michigan football coach andathletic director, was honored recently ata gathering of the University of MichiganClub of Chicago. A national football hallof famer, Crisler coached Michigan teamsfrom 1938 to 1947, winning the champion-22An advertisement for Chicagochairs, with some little-known fa et son the birch tree, from theRoman Empire to the University. . .In the athletic contests of ancientRome, trophies of birch branches wereawarded to the victors, a practice whichlater spread to récognition of achieve-ment in other areas. In time, the "fasces"—a bundle of birch rods, sometimeswith a protruding axe —became a sym-bol of authority, carried through thestreets on civic occasions by lictors,the sheriffs of their day.In the New Worldr the birch had beenused extensively by Indians, notablyfor wigwam pôles and the bark canoë.But the earliest settlers largely ignoredthe tree in favor of softer woods whichlent themselves more easily to construction in primitive circumstances.Woodsmen often were discouraged bythe labor needed to hew down a birch,especially when they felled a treewhose toughness had kept it uprightlong past its useful âge for lumber.Most observers, deceived by thebirch's graceful appearance, were un-aware of its great strength. JamesRussell Lowell called it "the most shyand ladylike of trees."The sap and leaves of the birch yieldan oil similar in fragrance to winter-green, and one of the tree's early useswas in the flavoring of a soft drinkknown >as birch béer. As the characterof its wood became apparent, the birchbegan to be used in the manufacture ofproducts where durability was important: tool handles, wagon-wheel hubs, ox yokes, barrel hoops, wooden-ware. Challenging oak and hickory forstrength, and excelling them in beauty,birch soon came to be favored by themakers of sleighs and carriages. And,finally, cabinetmakers adopted thewood for the finest furniture.Some of the first railroad tracks werespiked to birch crossties. In the earlydays of the automobile, birch was usedby some coach makers for the mainframe and other structural members.During the métal shortages of WorldWar II the British used the wood in themanufacture of airplanes —especiallyin the well-known mosquito bomber,constructed almost entirely of birchplywood. Tennis rackets and skis arestill made of birch.Some years ago, the Alumni Association found a century-old New Englandfurniture manufacturer who continuesto employ hand craftsmanship in theproduction of early American birchchairs. The firm, S. Bent & Brothers ofGardner, Mass., is still operated bythird and fourth génération descendentsof its founders. Hundreds of their piècesare now in the homes and offices ofalumni and —especially the sturdy arm-chairs— are found everywhere on campus, from the President's office to theQuadrangle Club.At least one United States Président,while in the White House, owned aBent & Brothers armehair, identical incolor, design, and construct on to the model available through the AlumniAssociation.The designs for the Chicago chairsoriginated in colonial times and reachedtheir présent form in the period from1820 to 1850. The selected yellowbirch lumber cornes from New Brunswick, Canada, and from Vermont andNew Hampshire. Except for modern-day improvements in the adhesives andthe satin black finish, the chairs arefaithfully traditional.Identification with the University isachieved by a silk-screened goldChicago coat of arms on the backrest,complementing the antique gold détail stripings on the turnings. The armehair is available either with black ornatural cherry arms. Ail chairs areproduced on spécial order, requiring aminimum of four weeks for delivery,and are shipped express collect fromthe factory in Massachusetts.f- ' TI The University of Chicago I| Alumni Association iI 5733 University AvenueChicago, Illinois 60637 Ij Enclosed is my check for $ , payable to ii The University of Chicago Alumni Associ- Jation, for the following Chicago chair(s): II Armchairs (cherry arms) at $48 each iI Armchairs (black arms) at $46.75 each I[ Boston rockers at $36 each I Side chairs at $28.50 each iName (please print)Address i.ship in his final season. Eleven of his Wol-verine players were named All-Americanduring his tenure, and he is a lifetimemember of the NCAA football rules committee. At the University of Chicago, Crisler played under the legendary AmosAlonzo Stagg.in memoriam: Grâce WeatherheadRankin, phB'22; Percival Allen Gray, Jr.,sb'22, phD'24, md'27.12 A. N. FERGUSON, SB'23, SM'25,^ J md'29, diagnostician and heart spe-cialist at the Duemling Clinic, Fort Wayne,Ind., since 1933, retired in June.RUTH NEUHAUSEN FONAROFF, SM'23,was honored in Louis ville, Ky., at theJewish National Fund's "Salute to Israël"program for her involvement in such activités as Hadassah, Israël Bonds, theCouncil of Jewish Women, Labor ZionistOrganization, and the Bureau of JewishEducation.in memoriam: Blanche Hinkley Howe,am'23; Hélène Woolf Muir, phB'23.O / MARTHA MCCORMICK, PhB'24, AM'26,£** professor of mathematics at Missouri Southern Collège until her retirementthis year, is one of only two MSC profes-sors to hâve been selected for the honorof "professor emeritus." ProfessorMcCormick began her career with the collège in 1937 when it was still Joplin JuniorCollège and was instrumental in buildingthe school's pre-engineering program.lucy l. tasher, phB'24, jd'26, am'32,phD'34, retired in August from the historydepartment faculty at Illinois State University and has moved to Palm BeachShores, Fia.'J/i SIMON AGRANAT, PhB'26, JD'29, is^*" président (chief justice) of Israel'sSuprême Court, a post he has held since1966. He was named to the ten-memberSuprême Court in 1950. Judges at aillevels in Israël are appointed for life.CHARLES K. A. WANG, AM'26, PriD'31,has been designated professor emeritus atCalifornia State University at Los Angeles, where he was professor of psychologyuntil his retirement in June. Previously director of the division of research, Ministryof Social Affairs, for the Chinese Nation-alist government, Dr. Wang has taught atthe Catholic University of Peking, National Central University in Nanking, andTaiwan University in Formosa. He cameto Cal State L.A. in 1954.in memoriam: A. Adrian Albert,sb'26, sm'27, phD'28, Eliakim HastingsMoore distinguished service professor of mathematics, a member of the University of Chicago faculty since 1931.0"7 Robert l. hunter, jd'27, presiding^ ' judge, divorce division of the circuitcourt of Cook County, was elected président of the Conférence of ConciliationCourts at its spring meeting in San Diego.james v. root, sr., pIib'27, head of theJames V. Root Advertising Agency, Dan-ville, 111., has retired from the business hefounded almost twenty years ago. Alsoone of the founders of the Danville SeniorCitizens Club, Mr. Root has been quite active in local organizations and activities.He does the layout work for the VermilionCounty Museum's quarterly magazine, andis a member of the Kiwanis Club, theDanville Light Opéra, the Masonic Order,the Gao Grotto and the Scottish Rite.in memoriam: Alexander J. Napoli,phB'27, jd'29.10 DOROTHY V. NIGHTINGALE, PhD'28,^^ retired in August as professor ofchemistry at the University of Missouriand was granted emeritus status. She hasbeen a faculty member there for fifty-three years. According to the retired deanof Missouri's collège of arts and science,who spoke at a retirement dinner in herhonor, Dr. Nightingale "deserves to bepraised for having worked ail thèse yearsin one of the roughest, most chauvinisticdepartments on this campus." She is oneof five women in fifty-seven years to holda faculty position in the chemistry department, he commented. Dr. Nightingale, anative Coloradan, plans to move into a retirement home in Boulder.j. e aston parratt, am'28, retiredsuperintendent of Murray City (Utah)Schools as of July 1 , has entered politicsand is seeking the Démocratie nominationto the state législature from his district.OQ JEANNE DeLAMARTER BONNETTE,^*s x'29, author of In This Place andfour other books of published poetry, hasbeen named co-winner for 1972 of theNew Mexico Press Women's Zia Awardfor outstanding writing. Presently record-ing secretary of the National Fédérationof State Poetry Societies, Mrs. Bonnette, anative of Albuquerque, for the past twoyears has produced "The Creative Process," a séries of programs about the arts,shown on KNME-TV, Albuquerque.samuel selbv, phD'29, and a colleaguein the Hiram (O.) Collège mathematics department hâve co-authored a revision of amajor collège math text. After a year ofwork on revisions and additions, the third édition of Modem Analytical Geometry ison sale in many collège bookstores. Thetwo were commissioned by Intext Educa-tional Publishers to update the textbookoriginally written in 1951 by W. KelsonMorrill. Professor Selby has authored several other math texts.2A ROBERT L. BRETTON, sm'30, has re-¦J^ tired from Marshall University,Huntington, W. Va., where he was professor of geography and had been a facultymember for forty-two years.The initial issue of the Arkansas Journalof Sociology, a publication sponsored andedited by University of Arkansas graduatestudents, has been dedicated to a.stephen stephan, am'30, in récognitionof his many years of service as chairmanof the sociology department and his pion-eering efforts in the field.in memoriam: J. Howell Atwood,phD'30; Thomas S. Vinson, phB'30.2 1 VICTOR e. hruska, PhB'31, jd'32,J ¦*¦ former officiai of the Prudential Insurance Company, is currently director ofthe Older Americans Volunteer programsadministered by ACTION. Mr. Hruska résides in Fair Haven, N. J.earl v. pullias, am'31, who retiredthis spring as professor of higher éducation at the University of Southern California, was recently given a spécial awardby the California Association for Health,Physical Education and Récréation for hisservice to the physical éducation profession.20 LAWRENCE L. DURISCH, PtlD'32, hasJ ^* been named the first distinguishedprofessor of the University of Tennesseechapter of Pi Sigma Alpha, politicalscience honor society, and was cited forhis distinguished performance as a political scientist — in the classroom and as anindividual.alfred frankenstein, phB'32, art crit-ic since 1934 for the San FranciscoChronicle, spent the summer at the University of Delaware as visiting professorof art. An expert on the late 19th centuryPhiladelphia artist, William MichaelHarnett, a still-life painter noted for thegreat précision in his work, Dr. Frankenstein during a revival of Harnett's popu-larity in the 1940s discovered that thepaintings then attributed to him were actu-ally the work of three men. Paintings bythe two others, John Frederick Peto andJohn Haberle, contemporaries of Harnettwho painted in the same style, were takenby two dishonest Philadelphia art dealers244LUAN1 FUf\ID CâLLEffi 5ET TQ StûïïT dUTUflnJ TELETHQieHow can a university keep in touchwith 75,000 far-flung alumni? A téléphone call now and then certainlyhelps.It's complicated if you're an alumnusin Kuala Lumpur, Istanbul or Baghdad.But if you live in Seattle, Minneapolisor Dubuque, you can expect a call fromthe University of Chicago in the nextfew months.It's time for the Alumni Fund's annual phonathon, accomplished bymeans of an evening of telephoning, incity after city, to raise money for theUniversity. Since the phonathons beganin 1968, more alumni hâve taken parteach year. This year, between late Sep-tember and the end of 1972, some 25,-000 to 30,000 will hâve been called—almost twice as many as in 1970. In1971 there was an international touch:the first Canadian phonathon, based inToronto and covering most of Ontario.The number of alumni and theirspouses who serve as volunteer callershas also been on the rise. Last yearalmost 1 ,000 alumni manned thephones, compared with 400 the previ-ous year.The Alumni Fund seeks gifts fromalumni on an annual basis and is one ofthe University's vital sources of un-restricted support. This year's Fundgoal is $1,250,000; a goodly share ofthis is expected to be raised by thephonathons."The personal touch of a téléphonecall makes a big différence in helpingpeople décide where to give and howmuch," says Valérie Dalwin, ab'63,mat'65, a high school teacher who wasa volunteer in the spring New Yorkphonathon.Besides providing a quick, efficientway of raising money, the phonathonsgive alumni volunteers a chance to par- ticipate in an important University ac-tivity and it has been demonstrated thatthey strengthen alumni groups.They're also fun."We had a good time. There wasgreat spirit in our group and a lot ofyoung people," reported Karen (Drigot)Stone, who with her husband, Richard,participated in the Los Angeles phonathon. Both are 1967 graduâtes of theCollège.In Los Angeles there were two nightsof telephoning. Two of the couples whovolunteered the first night had such agood time they decided to corne backthe second night."It's instant gratification for the volunteer," explained Richard Krohn,ab'47, mba '50, who is trademark manager for Levi, Strauss, & Co. in SanFrancisco."It's very satisfying to make a téléphone call and know you've raisedsome money for the University. Andyou're not ail alone at it. You're part ofa group." Krohn said the volunteersdeveloped a spirit of cameraderie andthat the phonathon helped alumni in themetropolitan area keep in touch withthe University community.Volunteers usually get together before the phonathon for sandwiches andcoffee and a briefing on the latest University news by a staff member. Ail ofthe alumni they dial hâve received apostcard from the University tellingthem to expect a call. When the phonathon is over (each takes from one tothree hours), volunteers send gift en-velopes, with personal notes, to thealumni who were contacted.The first time a phonathon is con-ducted in an area, each caller's effortsbring in, on the average, $200-$300. Insucceeding years the amount raisedgoes up between 3% and 5%. However, there hâve been many instances wherecalls hâve resulted in individual gifts inthe $1,000 range.Joseph Whitlow, ab'39, a Seattle in-surance executive and member of theAlumni Cabinet, has lent his offices forphonathons the past several years. Hesaid he was "completely happy" withthe results, adding, "The phonathon ac-complishes a lot in a short time." TheSeattle phonathon covers about 360alumni in Seattle, Tacoma, Bremerton,Everett and Bellingham.John Boop, director of the AlumniFund, is trying to make the opérationmore efficient by providing volunteerswith more information about their prospects and by making better use of computer facilities."Once people realize how enjoyableand productive the evenings can be,they usually agrée to help again," Boopsaid. Over 85% of the alumni callers in1971 agreed to call in the fall of 1972.Hardy Freeman, Larry Clary and Caro-lyn Wilson, the Fund's régional direc-tors, work directly with city chairmenin coordinating activities in most cities."Every year we plan to call in morecities," Boop says. "Our rôle is to un-cover interest and stimulate enthusiasmfor the University."There may yet be a Kuala Lumpurphonathon.who wished to cash in on Harnett's earlierpopularity about 1905, and the names ofthe real artists were removed and Harnett's signature forged in their place.Frankenstein's discovery brought récognition to an entire school of painting, withPeto and Haberle the prime beneficiaries.philip s. klein; am'32, retired in June from the faculty of Penn State and wasmade professor emeritus of American his-tory. Dr. Klein is hard at work completingHistory of Pennsylvania, a book he is co-authoring for McGraw-Hill. It is scheduledfor publication next January.in memoriam: Harold Gustav Shields,x'32. 2 2 SIDNEY WEINHOUSE, SB'33, PhD'36,-'-' professor of biochemistry and director of the Fels Research Institute at theTemple University School of Medicine,received an honorary doctor of sciencedegree from the Médical Collège of Pennsylvania in May, in récognition of his out-standing work in the biochemical sciences.25Dr. Weinhouse was at the University ofChicago from 1936 to 1941, first as an EliLilly fellow, and then as a Coman fellow.During the war years, 1941 to 1944, he re-mained at UC as project leader in theOffice of Scientific Research Development.Active in numerous professional organiza-tions, Dr. Weinhouse also is editor ofCancer Research and co-editor of Ad-vances in Cancer Research.\A ALEXANDER SPOEHR, AB'34, PnD'40,•J * acting chairman of the anthropologydepartment at the University of Pitts-burgh, has been elected to membérship inthe National Academy of Sciences. Dr.Spoehr is a specialist in the social anthropology and archeology of Oceania andSoutheast Asia.2 C J. h. cléments, pho'35, professorJ J of physics at East Texas State University until his retirement this summer, isone of two former faculty members thereto hâve been designated ''professor emeritus," a distinction never before accordedby the institution. Dr. Cléments, who oncetaught at the University of Chicago,headed the physics department at ETSUfrom 1948 to 1969.in memoriam: Edwin V. Nemec, ab'35,mba'59.2^ LUCY BELLEGAY REUM, AB'36,«^^ former social studies teacher, isrunning for Cook County recorder ofdeeds on the Republican ticket. Mrs.Reum was a delegate to the Illinois Con-stitutional Convention, where she servedas vice-chairman of the législative committee.2 "7 RALPH E. ELLSWORTH, PhD'37, hasJ ' taken an early administrative retirement as director of libraries at the University of Colorado but will continue his fullprofessional schedule as writer, lecturer,and consultant. Mr. Ellsworth was one ofa small group that established the MidwestInter-Library Center, now the Center forResearch Libraries.NELDA SCHUBERT FREEMAN, AB'37,managing editor of W. W. Norton & Company, New York publisher, has beenelected to the board of director s.leslie a. stauber, pho'37, RutgersUniversity zoologist, retired at the end ofthis académie year. After completing hisdoctoral study at UC, Dr. Stauber re-searched malaria in Panama for four yearsand in 1935 joined the staff at Rutgers todo research in diseases of oysters. He hasbeen président of theAmerican Society ofParasitologists, vice-président of the Na tional Shellfisheries Association, and haswritten extensively on leishmaniasis, awidespread tropical disease transmitted bythe sand fly.2 O ALFRED H. COURT III, AB'38, wasJ^* honored at the end of the schoolyear by the Biloxi (Miss.) High Schoolstudent body who dedicated their annualyearbook to him and formally presentedhim with the first copy at a school as-sembly. A history teacher at the school,Mr. Court was cited by the students forthe high "inspirational" quality of histeaching.THOMAS ANTHONY MASCIOCCHI, MD'38,physician in West Orange, N. J., has beennamed "man of the year" by the OrangeAlberonese Society. The award is given tooutstanding men of Alberonese descent"whose achievements, integrity and service to society bring honor to Italian-Americans."2Q SEYMOUR J. BURROWS, AB'39,J S mba'53, became executive secretaryof the Chicago Newspaper Publishers Association on August 1. Mr. Burrows,whose thirty years' expérience in industri-al relations management ranges from re-cruiting to arbitration, just finished a one-year stint with the labor relations committee of the American Newspaper PublishersAssociation.henri stegemeier, pho'39, professor ofGermanie literature at the University ofIllinois at Champaign-Urbana, has beenhonored by West Germany for his work inpromoting closer German-American cultural relations. At a ceremony in the Ger-man consulate, he was presented theOfficers Cross of the Order of Merit of theFédéral Republic of Germany, originallyconferred June 2 in Bonn by PrésidentGustàv Heinemann. Known as the Verdi-enstkreuz, first class, the award is thehighest honor of this particular order.ROBERT S. WHEELER, SB'39, PllD'42, di-rector of résident instruction in the collègeof agriculture, University of Georgia, hasbeen cited by Aghon honor society as Ge-orgia's top contributor to agriculture dur-.ing the past year.in memoriam: Florence Pfleger Minto,AB'39.AÇ\ JOHN PHILLIPS CONRAD, AM'40," chief of the center for crime prévention and rehabilitation of the law en-forcement administration, U.S. Department of Justice, has been named a fellowof the new Academy for ContemporaryProblems recently established by Ohio State University and Battelle Mémorial Institute to mobilize talent from ail walks ofnational life to find better answers for urgent social and environmental problems,with high priority to be given to problemsof law and justice. A leader in the field ofcorrections, Mr. Conrad will help theacademy develop more effective ap-proaches to the prévention of crime and tothe rehabilitation of criminals.ralph e. lapp, sb'40, p1id'46, physicist,was retained recently as a consultant bythe Illinois Commerce Commission in aninvestigation of the safety aspects of nu-clear-fueled electric power plants.leo srole, phD'40, professor of socialsciences at Columbia University Collègeof Physicians and Surgeons (New York),has been elected an honorary fellow of theAmerican Psychiatrie Association becauseof his "many and varied contributions topsychiatry." He has also been appointedextraordinary professor (honorary), faculty of psychology and éducation, University of Louvain (Belgium)./ 1 roland d. jackel, sb'41 , retired* -*- from the Office of Naval Researchin June. Jackel volunteered for the navalservice in 1942 and spent the war years asan engineering officer aboard the anti-aircraft cruiser San Juan. After the war hewas with the office of Naval Researchfrom 1946 to 1953, and 1955 to the présent. His last assignment was as scientificofficer for the program in physical chemistry of rocket propulsion./O leo smith, am'42, p1id'43, who*^ played a major rôle in shaping theprésent académie program and a numberof other major developments at RochesterInstitute of Technology, retired from theinstitute June 30 after thirty-three years ofservice. Dr. Smith, founder of the school'scounseling center and director of it from1942 to 1953, is credited with developingseveral distinctive programs at RIT —coopérative éducation (combining schooland work expérience), institutional self-evaluation, use of audio-visual média inthe classroom, independent study — longbefore they came in vogue on a nationalscale. Retirement will allow Dr. Smith totravel, to pursue his hobbies — gardening,bird watching, and free-form wood carv-ing — and to continue his involvement incommunity affairs.in memoriam: James Edward Savage,PhD'42./ 2 john w. ragle, sb'43, director of*»^ the master of arts in libéral studiesprogram and senior lecturer in éducation26at Dartmouth Collège, has been namedheadmaster of Governor DummerAcademy (Byfield, Mass.), oldest boys'boarding school in the U. S., effectiveSeptember 1.jane nichols spragg, sb'43, md'48,médical director of the contraceptive clin-ic, East Orange (N. J.) public health department, was a litigant in the AmericanCivil Liberties Union suit challenging theconstitutionality of New Jersey's 123-year-old abortion law which, on February29, was struck down by a three-judgepanel of the fédéral district court for NewJersey. An appeal and pétition for a stayof the décision, instituted by the state at-torney gênerai, was denied by the court onApril 4. Dr. Spragg, member of the Plan-ned Parenthood Physicians Association,serves as staff physician for the EssexCounty and Tri-County Leagues of Plan-ned Parenthood- World Population./ / MARTHA MITCHELL BIGELOW,* * am'44, is currently director of thedivision of Michigan history, Michigan department of state.eugene may, am'44, pastor of theFlemingsburg (Ky.) Christian Church since1960, has retired from the active ministry./ C Chicago attorneys howard sav-*-^ âge, jd'45, and ellis reid, jd'59,are on the légal lineup of Spécial Prose-cutor Barnabas Sears in the trial of State 'sAttorney Edward V. Hanrahan and thir-teen others — most of them policemen —charged with conspiracy to obstruct justice for their actions that came after a raidby state 's attorney 's police in December,1969, in which two Black Panther leaders,Fred Hampton and Mark Clark, were shotto death. Savage has done extensive civilrights litigation. Reid is président of theCook County Bar Association, a group ofblack lawyers.MARY POLLOCK ENDRES, AM'46, PllD'54,left Purdue University in August to assume the vice-presidency of académie af-fairs at Governors State University, ParkForest South, 111.JEANETTE SCHERER FISS, AB'46, AM'50,received her PhD in spring from theFerkauf graduate school of humanities andsocial sciences, Yeshiva University, NewYork City.in memoriam: (Daniel) Robert Gauss,sb '46.A^l C. WILLIAM KONTOS, AB'47, AM'48,* ' is in Beirut, Lebanon, where he isacting commissioner-general for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency forPalestine Refugees. ROBERT NOTTENBURG, AM'47, PllD'50,and his wife marilyn corn, am'48, hâvemoved from Lakewood, 0., to Evanston,111., where Mr. Nottenburg has beennamed director of éducation, M-W Education Corp., a division of MontgomeryWard.manning m. pattillo, jr., am'47,phD'49, président of the Foundation Center in New York City and adjunct professor of foundation administration at NewYork University, has joined the Universityof Rochester's public affairs office as director of spécial projects. Formerly avice-président of the Danforth Foundationand director for éducation of the Lilly En-dowment, Pattillo was a University ofChicago faculty member from 1949 to1956, specializing in teaching and researchin higher éducation. He is a trustée of several schools and holds honorary degreesfrom Le Moyne Collège, St. John's University, St. Norbert Collège, the Collègeof New Rochelle, and the University ofDétroit.ralph s. saul, am'47, has been ad-vanced to chairman of the executive committee, First Boston Corporation./ O BARBARA JACOBSON SEYMOUR,**^ phB'48, am'62, is information director for the Oregon department of environ-mental quality and does family counselingon a volunteer basis with a private agencyin Salem, Ore.AÇ\ james m. smith, md'49, Hamilton*^ (O.) surgeon, has been named chiefof Hamilton Mercy Hospital's médical-dental staff for 1972-73.Charles b. tinkham, p1ib'49, has beenpromoted to associate professor of English at Purdue University Calumet Campus(Hammond, Ind.). Professor Tinkham in1970 received a Standard Oil award forsuperior teaching ability and was citedparticularly for encouraging the writingtalents of his students and generating theirenthusiasm for poetry.in memoriam: Daniel Charles Albright,am'49, phD'56.CA ROMAN A. SCHMITT, SM'50, PhD'53,J" professor of chemistry and head oflunar rock research at Oregon State University, pocketed $1,000 recently as win-ner of the National Academy of Science 'sGeorge P. Merrill Award for his "pioneer-ing work on analytical techniques for détermination of the rare éléments in météorites." The technique has since been putto effect by Schmitt, a member of theLunar Sample Review Board, in his moon rock studies. It has also been utilized bylaw enforcement officiais in the analyzingand "fingerprinting" of physical évidence.BEVERLY SEGAL WILLIAMS, AB'50, leam-ing disability specialist for Highland Park,111., schools, tells us that her master'sthesis from Northeastern Illinois University has been published by the NationalEaster Seal Society for Crippled Childrenand Adults. The booklet, Your Child Hasa Learning Disability. . . What Is It?, is aguide for parents and teacher s.C 1 ABBAS M. BEHBEHANI, SM'51, hasJ been promoted to professor of path-ology at the University of Kansas MédicalCenter. He is the author of two recentlypublished books. Human Viral, Bedsonialand Rickettsial Diseases, a diagnostichandbook for physicians, and LaboratoryDiagnosis of Viral, Bedsonial and Rickettsial Diseases, a handbook for laboratoryworkers, hâve been published by CharlesC. Thomas of Springfield, 111.mark a. buchholz, ab'51, Lincoln,Neb., attorney, has received a judicial ap-pointment to the bench of the Nebraskaworkmen's compensation court. He hadbeen chief of the légal division of the staterevenue department.GEORGE horwich, am'51, p1id'54, dur-ing the 1971-72 académie year a visitingprofessor of économies in Revelle Collègeof the University of California, San Diego,returns this fall to the Krannert GraduateSchool of Industrial Administration, Purdue University.C'I john w. hunt, db'52, p1îd'61, hasJ ^* ended a sixteen-year affiliation withEarlham Collège, where he was professorof English and associate dean of the Collège, to accept an appointment at LehighUniversity (Bethlehem, Pa.) as dean of thecollège of arts and science and professorof English. Professor Hunt has written abook on William Faulkner and has alsowritten on a number of contemporary au-thors.in memoriam: Maxwell Obst, am'52.C 2 JAMES B. KENYON, AM'53, PnD'60,J J associate professor of geography atthe University of Georgia, has won a $500M. G. Michael Award for Research whichhe will use to conduct a géographie anal-ysis of several bi-cultural cities. Focusingon Atlanta, San Antonio, Montréal, Belfast and Brussels, ail cities with two dominant cultural groups sharing the city un-easily and mingling without diffusing,Kenyon will attempt to gain insight intothe territorial aspects of this cohabitation,27the degree and patterns of polarization interms of residential, social, educationaland employment areas.H. ALLEN MAXWELL, DB'53, Englishteacher, has been elected président of theNational Education Association of SouthBend (Ind.) in the first contested race forthe office in several years. Mr. Maxwell,who left a career in the ministry of twentyyears standing in favor of teaching, wasrecently chairman of a discipline studycommittee which helped draft new "dueprocess" procédures for students.C / APHRODITE FLOROS SARELAS, AM'54,-J * city unit supervisor for service tomilitary families of the American RedCross Mid-America chapter, was recentlyelected président of the Association ofOverseas Educators, an organization com-posed of Americans who hâve taughtabroad. During the summer Mrs. Sarelaswas in Greece on an educational researchproject involving comparative learning dis-abilities.peter udell, x'54, wrote the lyrics andco-authored the book for the smashBroadway musical Purlie. He and GaryGeld, composer for Purlie, hâve teamed upto write and produce thirteen songs thatmade the "top ten" lists in Billboard andCash Box. Their hit song "Sealed with aKiss," sung by Bobby Vinton, has hit thetop twice before — in 1962 and again in1968, and "Hurting Each Other," whichthey wrote for the Carpenters, has justpassed the million mark in sales. Theywrote many of the early rhythm and blueshits for Jackie Wilson and Linda Hopkins.Purlie, their first Broadway effort, receiveda singular distinction recently when the N.Y. Philharmonie performed the score onthe same program with Beethoven.in memoriam: Paul Goodman, phD'54.C C roger c. cramton, jd'55, has beenJ J appointed by Président Nixon, subject to confirmation, as assistant attorneygênerai in charge of the office of légalcounsel.C/l PHILIP M. PHIBBS, AM'56, PhD'57,•S" executive vice-président at Welles-ley Collège, has been elected universityprésident designate at the University ofPuget Sound, Tacoma, Wash. Dr. Phibbswas a congressional fellow of the American Political Science Association and a récipient of a Rockefeller Foundation Research Grant for work in India. During thesummer he served as acting président atWellesley. in memoriam: Robert H. O'Toole,mba'56.C"7 ALFRED HOERTH, AB'57, AM'61, aS-* ' sistant professor of archaeology atWheaton (111.) Collège and former researcharchaeologist at UC's Oriental Institute,was field archaeologist during the summerfor an expédition digging near the famouspyramid of Giza in Egypt. Purpose of theexpédition was to recover historical information, primarily hieroglyphic inscriptions, from the tombs of the Old King-dom.CO SALLY KOLLENBERG DAVIDSON,J° ab'58, am'60, Evanston, 111., whowas one of only a few people in the Mid-west working in macramé when she tookup the craft four years ago, has had herwork included in two books written byDONA ZWEIGORON MEILACH, PhB'46, lead-ing authority and writer on arts and crafts.Both published by Crown Publishers, theyare Macramé Creative Design (1971) andMacramé Accessories (1972).ernece kelly, ab'58, am'59, a graduatestudent at Northwestern University, de-livered a position paper at the first National Congress of Black Professionals inHigher Education, held at the Universityof Texas in the spring.ROBERT J. LADECKY, AB'58, MBA'59, hasbeen appointed corporate controller ofWarner Electric Brake & Clutch Company, Beloit, Wis.cecile bledsoe smith, am'58, assistantprofessor and chairman of the departmentof nursing at Chicago's Kennedy-KingCollège, tells us that she is the "first blacknurse to successfully establish an associate degree nursing program in the CityCollèges of Chicago and the State of Illinois." The first students graduated underthe program in June from Kennedy-KingCollège with an associate of arts in nursing degree.CQ lorane c. kruse, am'59, has beenJ S named acting director of the schoolof nursing, Ohio State University.^A karl finger, sb'60, folk singer/"^J composer/guitarist, en route recently for an appearance before the Massachusetts state législature to protest theplanned building of a high-speed highwaythrough Monterey, Mass., his home, wasplayfully challenged by several fellowtravelers to write a song on the issues. Hetook them at their word, however, andjust managed to put the final touches onthe song as the bus came to a grinding haitin the state capital. Entitled "Ballad of Route 23," the song was presented as KarlFinger's testimony and will soon be re-leased as a record.When louise frankel stoll, ab'60,am'61, and gerhard stoll, sb'58, jd'61,left Chicago in June of 1961, they hadmore to boast of than their new diplomas.They also had a new baby, born on graduation day. In Berkeley, where they résidenow with three children, "there is much ofthe intellectual and political excitementand charm of old Hyde Park. The weatheris fine, the view spectacular, and themountains close enough for skiing," writesMrs. Stoll. "It is also full of old UCers."Mr. Stoll practices law in San Francisco,and Mrs. Stoll was elected to the Berkeleyboard of éducation a year and one-halfago. Says she: "It is something of a switchfor me to be the politician in the family,but I love it!"^1 WILLIAM F. STOLTE, MBA'61, aSSÎS-" *** tant professor of économies atBerea (Ky.) Collège, has been appointedacting dean of the collège for the 1972-73académie year.£/J RICHARD S. SLOMA, MBA '62, pres-^^ ident and chief executive officer ofBastian-Blessing, Chicago, was elected tothe board of directors and to the five-member executive committee of the pub-licly-held Golconda Corp. at the corporation^ annual shareholders meeting.RONALD e. stackler, jd'62, has beenpromoted to vice-président of HeitmanMortgage Company, Century City, Calif.^2 JERRY s. bathke, ab'63, jd'66, until"J recently executive director of theIndian health organization Dine Bitsiis BaaAha Yaa, Inc., on the Navajo Nation(Window Rock, Ariz.), has been hired asexecutive director of the Navajo HealthAuthority, an organization established inJune by the Navajo Tribal Council to im-prove the health of the American Indianpeople and to establish a Center forHealth Professions Education and, eventu-ally, an American Indian médical school.(Mr. Bathke and his wife, Alice, a memberof the Navajo tribe, wrote an article onthe Navajo for the Magazine in 1969, entitled "They Call Themselves The People'.")john w. hill, ab'63, Philadelphia, received his PhD from Harvard in June andis now assistant professor of music at theUniversity of Pennsylvania. Last spring hewas elected chairman of the mid-Americachapter of the American MusicologicalSociety. He is the proud father of a son,28Matthew, born January 24, 1972.arthur h. winer, mfa'63, assistantprofessor of art at Marietta (0.) Collège,has been granted a semester's sabbaticalleave during the 1972-73 académie yearwhich he is using to work in his fields ofceramics and sculpture. Professor Winerhas been selected for inclusion in the 1973édition of Who 's Who in American Art.f^A FRANK MCDONALD, AM'64, Was just"*¦ three days short of finishing aseven-month stint as a guest lecturer atthe University of Havana — a position hehad been invited to accept by Cuba's Min-istry of External Affairs — when early oneday last December, on the outskirts ofHavana on his way to a speaking engagement, he was seized from his car by twoplain clothes men and arrested. Thusbegan eighty-five days of solitary confinement, in custody of Cuba's counter-intelligence agents of state security, oncharges of espjonage against the Cubanrévolution.As McDonald told it in an interview re-ported in the Garden City (N. Y.) News-day, "I had been studying the Cuban révolution and the Cuban people, and I hadcorne to respect the Cubans. It was an un-real situation. I was quite frightened." Hestresses that he kept no secrets from theCuban government. Upon entering thecountry, he volunteered the informationthat his uncle was a high CIA officiai, butthen as well as during his confinement,firmly maintained his own innocence ofany espionage activities.After coordinating Eugène McCarthy'ssouthern states Presidential campaign in1968, McDonald went to work for the Institute of Current World Affairs, a privateopération which finances Americans tolive and study abroad, run by a board"filled with establishment names fromU.S. académie and journalistic circles."He is still with the organization. McDonaldfirst traveled to Cuba in 1970 when he wasworking on a book for Doubleday on theCaribbean. He was invited into the country then and lectured at the university inJuly and August of 1970. Returning in1971 to spend seven months doing much ofthe same, he continued interviewing people — authors and middle-level officiais —for his book. The interviews were usuallyset up by university officiais."Neither coddled nor brutalized," McDonald was told on his eighty-fifth day ofimprisonment that, though the chargesagainst him would be dropped and hecould leave the country, his personal be- longings were to be confiscated on thegrounds that he had been invited to Cubato lecture, but had also been doing "a seri-ous sociological study at a time whenthere was a freeze on this type of activi-ty." McDonald is not bitter about his cap-tors. In view of the CIA's record of se-cretly financing foundations and studentgroups, he feels that the Cubans under-standably could hâve regarded with suspicion an establishmentarian organizationsuch as the Institute for Current WorldAffairs./lC ROBERT P. abate, mba'65, has re-" J signed as group vice-président,American National Bank and Trust Company, Chicago, to become président andchief executive officer of the Elgin (111.)National Bank. Mr. Abate cited the enor-mous development and growth forecastsof the suburban northeastern Illinois areaas a major factor in his décision to leaveAmerican National. An authority on in-stalment financing and éducation loans, hehas been tapped by both Présidents Johnson and Nixon to serve in an advisorycapacity to the U. S. Office of Education.He is a board member of the Chicago Better Business Bureau, a member of theChicago Crime Commission, and has ser-ved on the advisory committee to the Illinois state scholarship commission onguaranteed student loans.jay t. zitz, mba'66, has joined the consumer products division of Heublein, Inc.,Hartford, Conn., as a brand manager withcomplète marketing responsibility forSnap-E-Tom tomato cocktail and Reginawine vinegars. Zitz had been with Proctor& Gamble.K~] KARL W. LUCKERT, AM'67, PhD'69-,^ ' faculty member at Northern Arizona University, is spending the 1972-73académie year at the University of Okla-homa on a National Endowment for theHumanities fellowship for American Indian studies. Mr. Luckert has done exten-sive field research among the Navajo Indi-ans./TO JAMES A. PETERSON, SB'68, who Was*JV awarded his médical degree fromthe University of Nebraska in May, is in-terning at the University of NebraskaMédical Center in Omaha.thomas sowell, phD'68, has two bookscoming out this fall: Say's Law (PrincetonUniversity Press) and Black Education:Myths and Tragédies (David McKay Company). "This does not imply that I write two books at a time," he comments, "butrather that commercial publishers and university presses move at very différentrates of speed." An associate professor oféconomies at UCLA, Mr. Sowell has con-tributed two articles to the Magazine:"The 'Available' University" (Nov/Dec1970) and "Violence and the Payoff Society" (Nov/Dec 1971).^Q marcus felson, ab'69, is currently"s wrapping up his doctoral studies insociology at the University of Michigan.His dissertation, entitled "ConspicuousConsumption and the Expansion of theMiddle Class," finds évidence that "conspicuous consumption is not ail that important and that the expansion of the middle class has not really taken place." Hejoins the sociology faculty at the University of Illinois this September, after whichhe will "begin a life of conspicuous consumption."caryl towsley moy, am'69, has beenappointed to the position of counselor andassociate professor of sociology at San-gamon State University, Springfield, 111."7 A william kopper, ab'70, after' " spending eighteen months as director of the Ecology Center in Ann Arbor,Mich., moved to Modesto, Calif., earlierthis year, to act as campaign manager forCliff ord Humphrey, a candidate for Congress on the Ecology ticket.marcus lieberman, phD'70, since lastSeptember has held an appointment aslecturer and research associate in the Laboratory of Human Development, HarvardGraduate School of Education, teachingmultivariate methods in behavioral research and doing research in moral development."7 1 william ellet, ab'71 , has had a' ¦*- feature-length article, "The Over-education of America: Too Many for TooFew Jobs," published in the Los AngelesTimes.robin geist, x'71, has established herown public relations company, Robin Mer-edith, Inc., in the Insurance ExchangeBuilding, 175 W. Jackson Blvd., Chicago."Having one's own business," says Ms.Geist, "is Women's Lib without having tothink about it." Her accounts so far rangefrom a goldsmith and an insurance agencyto a political candidate.eleanor r. hall, phD'71, has joinedthe faculty of Pennsylvania State University in Erie as assistant professor of psy-chology at the Behrend campus.29¦yi john j. buckley, jr., jd'72, former' ¦" editor-in-chief of the Law Review,began clerking for a fédéral judge of thefifth circuit on August 1.PAMELA GRANDE MATTSON, PtlD'72, has science at Lake Forest (111.) Collège.STEVEN CLYDE SIMMONS, AB'72, hasbegun graduate work as a fellow in Stanford University's interdepartmental modem thought and literature committee. Dur- office of the World Without War Councilof the United States and wrote and editedfilms for public télévision.david a. stern, ab72, starts in at Cor-nell University this fall on a fellowshipaccepted a post as professor of political ing the summer he worked in the Midwest for graduate study in médiéval history.Club eventsalbany: A cocktail party was held at theVan Dyke Restaurant on June 17. Localalumni VIPs who attended included theHonorable Mary Ann Krupsak (jd'62),member of the New York state assembly;Joseph Swidler (p1ib'29, jd'30), chairmanof the New York public service commission; Mary Colley Stierer (p1ib'46),- mem ber of the Troy school board, and RobertStierer (ab'43), former city manager ofTroy. Sara Richman Harris (ab'41) is incharge of Albany-area alumni activities.Chicago: The communications dinner washeld Friday, June 9, at the Arts Club.Highlight of the evening was the presenta-Norman Barker (ab '47, mba '53), président of the United California Bank and atrustée of the University, and Mrs. Barker (at right) smile as the Alumni Club ofGreater Los Angeles' 1972 distinguished alumnus award is presented to Mr.Barker by Nick Reznick (am '48), président ofthe club (far left) and Marvin Braude(ab '41) Los Angeles city councilman. tion of the Communicator of the yearaward to David S. Broder (ab'47, am'51).James F. Hoge (am'61), Chicago Sun-Times editor, was master of cérémonies.los Angeles: Président and Mrs. EdwardH. Levi were the honored guests at aréception at the Hôtel Bel-Air on June 28.Hosts were Norman Barker (ab'44,mba'53), University trustée, and EmanuelReznick (am'48), président of the Los Angeles club.Correction: The May/June issue of theMagazine listed Richard C. Bergholz as aparticipant in the "Election 72" symposium held June 13. At the last minute, hecould not attend, and was replaced by LeoSnowiss (am'60, phD'65) of the politicalscience department at UCLA.san diego: On July 13, following a réception at the University Club, Dean Phil C.Neal of the Law School, speaking on thetopic "The Law School in the 1970s," toldSan Diego alumni and their guests that thedécade will see a growing number oflawyers devoting their skills to caring forthe social needs of the country. He pre-dicted, in addition, that the lawyer population will continue increasing more rapidlythan the population as a whole. Chairmanfor the event, which was sponsored by theUniversity of Chicago Alumni of SanDiego in coopération with the University'sLaw School Alumni Association of SanDiego, was James Malkus (ab'59, jd'61).san Francisco: Président Edward H.Levi addressed a dinner meeting of theSan Francisco club on June 27. He wasintroduced by John G. Neukom (phB'34),trustée of the University. Alan S. Mare-mont (jd'51), président of the San Francisco club, was host.30Tepipatetic alurrurusErnest J. Morris (phB'15) is one alumnus who keeps moving. In a trekthat began in Georgia last April, he hiked 800 miles of the Appalachi-an Trail. (He stopped when he found the projected 2,000-mile journeywas taking up too much of a planned busy summer.) He celebrated hiseighty-third birthday in May after the first month on the trail.Since then, somewhat to his discomfiture, he has found himselfsomething of a celebrity — the subject of a lengthy pièce by Bob Kanein the Virginian Leader and of an interview on WNRV, Pearisburg-Narrows, Va.Discovering en route that his progress was not as speedy as he hadanticipated, and that on the original schedule he would wind up onMt. Katahdin in Maine after the frosts had set in, Morris revised hisplans, flying from Virginia to Maine. But after hiking the northernportion of the trail from north to south, planning to link up with hisearlier footsteps he decided to call off the venture, rather than missrenewing old friendships in the Midwest.A social worker in his student days at the University, Morris wentinto the Boy Scouts and was an executive in that organization for ascore of years before switching to the life of a life insurance salesman(New York Life) for another score. In his "retirement," he is living onthe eastern slope of the Sierras in California, where he has kept busyexploring Death Valley and climbing such eminences as MountWhitney, with an occasional side venture such as traversing theGrand Canyon.This year's hike, Morris told WNRV's Bob Whitehead, "has beenthe most wonderful expérience of my life." One thing he likes is thecomradeship of his fellow hikers. Recalling breakfast préparationsfollowing a rainy night on the Appalachian Trail, when he andnineteen others were crammed into a shelter built for sixteen, he said,"Hère were forty feet moving around in a very limited space. Peoplehad ail kinds of cooking equipment spread out, and yet nobody kickedover anything, nobody got mad, nobody found fault. I challenge youto find anywhere in our civilized society, so-called, where people getalong so freely and easily. To me it was a wonderful révélation ofwhat human beings could be like."tec:1 !t*iooOnnOON^<S1 — inntuOo00OsCi©\