THEUNIVERSITYF CHICAGOMAGAZINESUMMER 1975A CHALLENGE TO CHICAGO'S ALUMNITo increase giving to the University by $1,000,000 this yearEvery alumnus who increases the size of his gift to the University or to his professionalschool this year will accomplish his purpose twice over. Every dollar of increase in 1975over 1974 will represent two dollars of income to the University. Alurnni who did notcontribute to the University or to their schools in 1974 will have their entire 1975 giftsdoubled.Each of these dollars of 1975 gift will represent two dollars of income to the Universitybecause of a matching fund created by Robert O. and Barbara Anderson. Mr. Anderson isa trustee of the University; he and Mrs. Anderson are both alumni. They have establishedthe Robert O. and Barbara Anderson Challenge Gift— amounting to $1,000,000— to dramatize the importance of annual support of the University by alumni during the Campaign forChicago, Phase 2, and to encourage their fellow alumni to give or revise upward theircontributions to that vital effort to back up the campaign.The Andersons' Challenge fund will match every dollar of new giving, or of increasedgiving, by any one person, up to $25,000 and payable within twelve months.Alumni of the College, the Division of the Biological Sciences, the Division of the PhysicalSciences, the Division of the Social Sciences, the Division of the Humanities, the DivinitySchool, the Pritzker School of Medicine, the Law School, the Graduate School of Education,the Graduate Library School, the School of Social Service Administration and the GraduateSchool of Business are eligible to make Challenge contributions.The gifts must be unrestricted. Gifts from non-alumni and from trustees and capitalcontributions to the campaign are not eligible. Gifts from alumni-related foundations will beconsidered on an individual basis.The proceeds of giving under the terms of the Andersons' Challenge will go to theUniversity's unrestricted funds, where they are vitally needed at this stage of the Campaignfor Chicago.The announcement of the Andersons' Challenge was made a few weeks ago, to theannual meeting of the National Alumni Fund Board, by Acting President Wilson and byEmmett Dedmon, trustee, alumnus, and national chairman of the Alumni Fund. A report onthis meeting and further information about the Campaign for Chicago and the Challengeappear on Pages 24 and 25 of this issue of the Magazine.A RARE OPPORTUNITY TO DOUBLE YOUR ALMA MATER'S INCOME. SHE NEEDS IT.THEUNIVERSITYOF CHICAGOMAGAZINEThe University of ChicagoAlumni Association5733 University AvenueChicago, Illinois 60637(312)753-2175Julian J. Jackson, PhB'31, PresidentArthur Nayer, Director, Alumni AffairsRuth Halloran, Assistant DirectorKristen Nelson, Program DirectorRegional Offices1542 Riverside Drive, Suite FGlendale, California 91201(213)242-8288825 Third Avenue, Suite 1030New York, New York 10022(212)935-19771000 Chestnut Street, Apt. 7DSan Francisco, California 94109(415)928-0337735 Fairfax StreetAlexandria, Va. 22314(703) 549-3800Volume LXVIISummer, 1975 Number 4The University of Chicago Magazine,founded in 1907, is published for alumniand the faculty of the University ofChicago, under the auspices of the Officeof the Vice President for Public Affairs.Letters and editorial contributions arewelcomed.Don Morris, ab'36EditorJennie LightnerEditorial AssistantSecond class postage paid at Chicago,Illinois, and at additional mailing offices.Copyright 1975, The University ofChicago. Published quarterly, Spring,Summer, Fall and Winter. Neutron bombardment in cancer therapyThe moral legacy of the founding fathersJohn Hope Franklin 10Humanity's fragile instrument for survivalPaul Brian Moore 14Billiards is a good gameNorman F. MacleanTwo days in the life of an alumnusIrving S. Bengelsdorf 24Carryover sport and the Olympic Games 26The New Deal at midpassageAlbert Lepawsky 29Merriam's 'continuously planning society'Barry D. Karl 36Wall to wallMike Muench 414 Quadrangle news 39 Alumni news 46 Index to '74-'75 issues 47 Letterscover: The billiards player is Albert A. Michelson, professor of physics on the University's original faculty and the first American scientist to win a Nobel prize.Norman Maclean 's recollections of Mr. Michelson begin on Page credits: Page 1, United Press International; Page 6 (bottom right), S. A.Kaluzny; Page 7 (top), Mike Shields; (center left), Jack Hewitt; (center right), JackMitchell; (bottom), Jac Stafford; Page 14, Dennis Lund; Pages 15, 17, ChicagoTribune photo by Charles Osgood; Page 19, Moffett Studios; Pages 24, 25, JacStafford; Page 26, D. Morris; Page 27, Jennie Lightner; Page 29, William Sharp;Page 37, Paul Wagner; Page 43, Paul B. Yost; Page 48, Mike Shields.Quadrangle NewsBoughs, books and ballisticsWith spring (what spring?) coming on andthe end of the academic year approaching,there was mayhem on the Midway, asthirteen more elms along 59th Street succumbed to Dutch elm disease and were felledby the Park District (to be replaced bymaples, ash, locusts and other non-elms).Leon Despres (phB'27, ro'29) retired fromthe city council, but the University stayedon — as it has since the days of AldermanPaul Douglas, and before that — as the wardchose Ross Lathrop, director of the Management Institutes Program at the IndustrialPuzzling creativity"In 1817, at the age of forty-seven, when thelong period of meditation, during whichBeethoven composed very little, was comingto an end, he said to Cipriani Potter withtransparent sincerity, 'Now I know how tocompose.' " (In the decade which had endedseven years earlier Beethoven had writteneight symphonies, five piano concertos, oneviolin concerto, twenty-five piano sonatas,eleven quartets, seven overtures, one operaand one mass.)"I do not believe," continued ProfessorSubramanyan Chandrasekhar, "that therehas been any scientist, past forty, who couldhave said, 'Now I know how to do research.'And this, to my mind, is the center and thecore of the difference: the apparent inabilityof a scientist to grow and mature. ' 'Mr. Chandrasekhar made these statementsin April in delivering the second Nora andEdward Ryerson lecture. One of the world'sleading theoretical astrophysicists, he is theMorton D. Hull distinguished service professor in the University's Departments ofAstronomy and Astrophysics, Physics, andthe Enrico Fermi Institute. In a dazzlingdisplay of erudition, he undertook, in hisRyerson lecture, to discuss "Shakespeare,Newton and Beethoven, or Patterns inCreativity."Both Shakespeare and Beethoven, Mr.Chandrasekhar pointed out, continued to becreative through their respective lifetimes,their late works representing, some authorities feel, their finest achievements.Newton, likewise a creative giant, wasfrom the standpoint of creativity, finished atforty-two, though he remained in full posses- Relations Center, as its new alderman.President Levi left for Washington following a rousing farewell at the Commons(see back cover).Regenstein Library has installed a newbook charging plan "to allow an orderlytransition to the automated circulationsystem," as the library moves toward near-total computerization. The new setupestablishes five due dates in a quarter; if thebook borrower picks the most favorable dateto take out his book, he may keep it as longas forty-nine days; if he is less perspicacious,he may keep it for as few as eleven days.The University's apparatus on spacecraftsion of his faculties for another forty years."My mind," Mr. Chandrasekhar quotedNewton as having said, "seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding generallaws out of large collections of facts. ' '"Two facts," said Mr. Chandrasekhar,"emerge with startling clarity: the remarkable similarity in the creative patterns ofShakespeare and Beethoven, on the onehand, and their stark contrast with Newtonon the other."Are the similarity and the contrast accidental? Or are they manifestations of ageneral phenomenon which, in the case ofthese giants, only happens to be very sharplyetched? . . ."I am frankly puzzled," Mr. Chandrasekhar said, "by the differencethat appears to exist in the patterns ofcreativity among the practitioners in the artsand the practitioners in the sciences: for, inthe arts as in the sciences, the quest is afterthe same elusive quality: beauty."Citing examples of the scientific search forbeauty, starting with Pythagoras' statementof the relationship between the length ofvibrating strings and the harmonies theyproduce if their lengths are in simplenumerical ratios, Mr. Chandrasekhar said:"May I allow myself at this point a personal reflection? In my entire scientific life,extending over forty-five years, the mostshattering experience has been the realizationthat an exact solution of Einstein's equationsof general relativity, discovered by the NewZealand mathematician Roy Kerr, providesthe absolutely exact representation of untoldnumbers of massive black holes thatpopulate the universe."This 'shuddering before the beautiful,' Pioneer 10 and 1 1 is still accumulating data.Pioneer 10 is more than 700,000,000 milesout in space and still transmitting, andPioneer 1 1 , which flew past Jupiter inDecember, is studying cosmic rays en routeto Saturn, where, in 1979, it is expected todive between the planet and its rocky ringsfor still more history-making studies.Tosteson to head Bi Sci DivisionDr. Daniel Charles Tosteson has been appointed dean of the Division of the Biological Sciences and the Pritzker School ofMedicine at the University of Chicago. Healso has been appointed the Lowell T.Coggeshall professor of medical sciences inthe Department of Pharmacological andPhysiological Sciences. Both appointmentsare effective July 1 .Dr. Tosteson is chairman of the Department of Physiology and Pharmacology at theDuke University School of Medicine and is apast chairman of the Association ofthis incredible fact that a discovery motivated by a search after the beautiful inmathematics, should find its exact replica innature, persuades me to say that beauty isthat to which every human mind responds atits deepest and most profound. . . "Mr. Chandrasekhar pointed to the life ofRayleigh, who continued to be scientificallycreative through his life, as an exception. Hecited J. J. Thomson's memorial address, inwhich the British physicist said:"Lord Rayleigh took physics for hisprovince and extended the boundary of everydepartment of physics. The impression madeby reading his papers is not only due to thebeauty of the results obtained, but to theclearness and insight displayed, which givesone a new grasp of the subject. . ."There are some men of science whosecharm consists in having said the first wordon a subject, in having introduced some newidea which has proved fruitful; there areothers whose charm consists perhaps inhaving said the last word on a subject, andwho have reduced the subject to logical consistency and clearness. I think by temperament Lord Rayleigh belonged to the secondgroup."Said Mr. Chandrasekhar: "On readingShelley's A Defence of Poetry, the questioninsistently occurs, why there is no similar ADefense of Science written by a scientist ofequal endowment. Perhaps, in raising thisquestion, I have, in part, suggested ananswer to the one I have repeatedly askedduring this lecture."Mr. Chandrasekhar's Ryerson lecture wasgiven under the auspices of the University'sCenter for Policy Study, which is publishingthe discussion in its entirety.4Visitors, including many employees and their families, swarmed through Argonne West, theIdaho outpost of Argonne National Lab, for which the University is the prime contractor, atthe open house last summer celebrating its tenth year of electric power production. Shown atthat time in the central cell of the Hot Fuel Examination Facility (with its massive four-feet-thick protective window removed to provide access), visitors listen to a guide — in an area inwhich, now that the newly opened facility is operating, no person may enter because of lethalradiation.American Medical Colleges.He will succeed Dr. Leon O. Jacobson,who is retiring as dean after nine years, tocontinue his research and teaching.Dr. Tosteson is known for his research inthe chemistry of natural and artificial membranes. His work has focused on cellulartransport processes, using red blood cellmembranes as a model. Its object has been tolearn how cells obtain their nutrition.Morris is new Law School deanNorval Morris will succeed Philip C. Neal asdean of the Law School July 1 . Mr. Neal willcontinue his studies in anti-trust, Constitutional and administrative law.Mr. Morris, a native of New Zealand,taught at the Universities of Melbourne andAdelaide before coming to the Midway in1964. He is the Julius Kreeger professor oflaw and criminology and director of the University's Center for Studies in CriminalJustice. Long a critic of the nation's penalpractices, Mr. Morris has been active inefforts at prison reform. His most recentbook (1974) is The Future of Imprisonment.Burnham, Ward named trusteesJoseph Burnham, president of MarshallField and Company, and Mrs. J. HarrisWard, Chicago civic leader and longtimefriend of the University, have been elected tothe board of trustees.Mr. Burnham is a board member of theHarris Trust and Savings Bank, vice-chairman of the board of the Chicago HealthResearch Foundation, and a trustee of Rush-Presbyterian St. Luke's Medical Center andthe Chicago Orchestral Association.Mrs. Ward was the founding president ofthe University's Women's Board. She hasbeen active in the League of Women Votersand on the boards of such Chicago institutions as the Art Institute of Chicago,Lyric Opera, Lake Forest College and theField Museum. She founded the "KnowYour Chicago" field trip-lecture series andthe "Bright New Chicago" lecture series.She is the widow of J. Harris Ward, whoalso was a trustee of the University.Wilson names vice-presidentsThe University has four new vice-presidents,announced by Acting President John T.Wilson:Harold E. Bell, comptroller of the University, is now vice-president comptroller.Chauncy D. Harris, the Samuel N. Harperdistinguished service professor of geographyand director of the Center for InternationalStudies, is vice-president for academicresources. Mr. Harris two years ago served aschairman of the Educational Review Com mission which made a complete survey of theUniversity's structure, purposes, andfunctions.D. Gale Johnson, the Eliakim H. Mooredistinguished service professor in, andchairman of, the Department of Economics,is vice-president and dean of the faculties. Heis the senior officer of the University underMr. Wilson. He will continue his studies ofthe economics of the University which he haspursued for the past two years as assistant tothe President and head of the Office ofEconomic Development.Jonathan Kleinbard, assistant to thePresident since 1971, is the vice-president forcommunity affairs and assistant to the actingPresident.Tuition up in autumnFor the 1975-'76 academic year tuition at theUniversity will be 7% higher for undergraduates and 6.5% higher in the divisions.(Among a group of colleges and universitiessurveyed by the New York Times the averageincrease was 10%.)Specifically the new tuition for the normalthree-quarter year will be $3,210 in theCollege, $3,420 in the divisions and thePritzker School of Medicine, $3,690 in theLaw School, $3,750 in the Graduate Schoolof Business, and $3,360 in the Schools ofDivinity, Education, Library Science, andSocial Service Administration.Rising with the costs of education tostudents has been the University's assistanceto students; in the forthcoming year more than $5,000,000 of University general fundsand more than $1 ,000,000 in endowedscholarship funds will be devoted to this aid."More than 5,000 of our 7,800 undergraduate and graduate students are receivingfinancial assistance through the University,"said Charles D. O'Connell, vice-presidentand dean of students, as the 1974-'75 yeardrew to an end.Meanwhile the University has reducedtuition by 30% for undergraduate studentstaking courses this summer in order to promote the fullest possible use of facilities andinstructional personnel in the quarter.Primavera and SignsNew publications continue to be launched onthe Midway:Primavera, a collection of verse, prose,and drawings by thirty-five women, nearlyhalf University connected, as students,faculty, staff, or alumnae, made its appearance in February. Primavera's publisheris Matrix, a group associated with the University Feminist Organization. Publicationof the inaugural edition was made possibleby a loan from Student Government, and thewomen of Matrix plan to issue one or twopublications each year.As might be implied by its sponsorship,Primavera includes many pieces whichspecifically present the modern woman'sviewpoint. "Our poetry," writes MaryaArgetsinger Smith, a free lance writer who isa staff member, "has grey matter, guts . . .\*and gender." A colleague, Clara Ann Bowler(ab'63, mat'65), who describes herself as "afugitive from the practice of law," says:"We are committed to artistic expression interms of sincere feelings and experience, notsexual stereotypes."Alumnae represented, in addition to Ms.Bowler, are Celia Josephson (ab'75), Elizabeth Schnur (ab'74) and Jeanette Syprzak(ab'70).For a copy ($1 .95) address Primavera, IdaNoyes Hall, 1212 E. 59th St., Chicago,Illinois 60637.Meanwhile the female of the species willget additional representation in a newjournal to be published by the University ofChicago Press beginning in September.Signs, Journal of Women in Culture andSociety, will be edited by Catherine R.Stimpson of Barnard College. Sandra M.Whisler (ab'72), New York, will be managingeditor. Individual charter subscriptions willbe $9; afterward they will rise to $12 peryear; address the Press, 1 1030 Langley Av.,Chicago, Illinois 60628.Can you tie that?If it were possible to buy Eiffel Tower postcards only in London, that would constitutean anomaly. Yet anomalies exist. One ofthem was discovered last year by Harold R.(Jeff) Metcalf (am'53), dean of students inthe Graduate School of Business. VisitingNew York City, he discovered that among"old school" ties on sale at Saks FifthAvenue there had been a University ofChicago tie, but it had been sold out. The tiehad never been for sale in Saks' Chicagostore. Saks carefully weighed his appraisal ofthis merchandising hiatus and, in duecourse, had a new batch made up and madeavailable in the University's home territory(and in Saks' contemporary shops elsewhere).The University bookstore continues toThe Chicago tie, Saks version.stock its version of the Chicago tie, its widtha more conservative three inches, contrastedwith the Saks 4.5-inch model. In bothversions the crest is red and gold. In the Saksmodel ($7.50) the field is navy. The bookstore is out of navy; ties in stock ($5) have afield of black. Feast and famineThe Maroon women's basketball squadrang up the best performance in winter quarter sports, winning ten and losing two games,for a percentage of .833. In tournament playthey won two games and lost five.Best performance among men's teams wasrecorded in indoor track, where CoachHaydon's forces were ten and five for a .667record. The men's basketball team did almost as well, winning nine and losing six;percentage: .600.None of the other teams fared well. Thewrestlers rang up a .250 and the fencers a.235. The gymnasts were one and nine, for. 100, and the swimmers one and ten, for.090. In badminton and swimming thewomen's teams were winless.KudosSaunders Mac Lane (am'31), the Max Masondistinguished service professor in theDepartment of Mathematics, the Committeeon the Conceptual Foundations of Science,the Committee on Ideas and Methods, andthe College, is winner of the MathematicalAssociation of America's 1975 award fordistinguished service to mathematics.Paul Meier, professor in the Departmentof Statistics, the Department of Pharmacological and Physiological Sciences and theCollege, has been named the first Ralph andMary Otis Isham professor.William J. Reid, professor in the Schoolfor Social Service Administration, has beennamed to the George H. Jones professorshipin SSA.Easley Blackwood, professor in the Department of Music and the College, hasreceived two commissions this spring: theLibrary of Congress asked him to write awork for violin and piano to be premiered inWashington this fall; and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra asked him to compose asymphony to be performed in 1976 as part ofthe orchestra's celebration of the Americanbicentennial.Four alumni were among the five facultymembers chosen this spring for membershipin the National Academy of Sciences. Thefive:Gary Becker (am'53, PhD'55), Universityprofessor in the Department of Economics;Brian Berry, the Irving B. Harris professor inthe Department of Geography and theCollege; Dave Fultz (sb'41 , phrj'47), professor in the Department of GeophysicalSciences and the College; Donald Steiner(md'56, sm'56), A. N. Pritzker professor inand chairman of the Department of Biochemistry and professor in the Departmentof Medicine and the College; and GeorgeStigler (phr/38), the Charles R. Walgreendistinguished service professor in the Department of Economics and the GraduateSchool of Business. ttvetv-u/EEk dTake a single week shortly before the sprinlequinox. What's happening on the MidwalA concert of Messiaen piano works and Ianother by the Collegium Musicum. A colloquium on astronomy and astrophysics.Concerts and master classes by the Merce ICunningham dance company, with John iCage and other composers present to seetheir music performed. A conference onneuromuscular disease. A lecture by theChicago Symphony's Margaret Hillis. Oth«lectures — on the study of syncretism(Divinity), on Holy Land archeology (B'naiB'rith-Hillel), on virology, on holography,on cohomology. A special spoof issue of th<Maroon. All this with exams approaching.But then the pace becomes livelier. NBCTelevision is filming its rock show, "TheMidnight Special," in Bartlett Gym. Warr^Beatty come to the Hyde Park Theater forthe premiere showing of his new film,"Shampoo." Allen Ginsburg and William 'Burroughs give a joint concert-reading in apacked Mandel Hall. Edward Maser,director of the Smart Gallery, receivesAustria's Cross of Honor in Science and Aipresented by Eduard Adler, Austrian const)general.And one cheering postscript: BurtSugarman, executive producer of the "Micnight Special," turned over to the Universilas a parting gesture, a check for $4,303 for,the refurbishing of the women's locker roo]in Bartlett.On facing page: Top — Bartlett Gym vibrateto the pounding of Midnight Special bands.Center, left — Warren Beatty speaks with fa,behind them is John Cawelti, professor in tiDepartment of English and the College, wh\presided at the premiere. Center,right — Merce Cunningham films dancers.Bottom— Mandel Hall audience hearscollaborative concert-reading by Messrs.Ginsburg and Burroughs. Inset — Burrough^(center) and Ginsburg (far right) talk withstudents afterward.Below: Austrian Consul General Adlerconfers honor on Edward Maser.v /14 w. f f;sr-»\Jr* few-LiInNeutron bombardment in cancer therapyRadiotherapy has a long history in the treatment of cancer;most of that history has involved the use of X-rays. Now,however, a newer, more powerful and, in a number ofrespects, more effective form of radiation — the neutron —has appeared on the scene. Using the newly refitted thirty-inch cyclotron in the sub-basement of the Franklin McLeanMemorial Research Institute, University medical researchersare putting the neutron to use in the bombardment of malignancies, in work which is now experimental but is expected tobe in use by next year in the treatment of patients.The X-ray has long been used in cancer treatment becauseits radiation damages tissue, and damages malignant tissuemore than it does normal tissue. But the X-ray is an exceedingly small entity. It reacts with the electrons in the atomswhich go to make up a cell, and the dosages required to effectappreciable damage in a tumor are so large that the harmfuleffects on normal tissue often offset the benefits of theradiation.The neutron, on the other hand, is 1,800 times as massiveas the X-ray. The difference between the effects of the twocan be compared to the differing impacts of a bowling balland a Ping Pong ball.The X-ray goes through tissue like a needle; the fastneutron smashes its way through, hitting the atomic nucleusand producing a wide track of particles scattered from it —protons, alpha particles, and carbon and oxygen nuclei,which in turn create ionization along their paths, transferringenergy proportionately.Yet early work with neutrons in radiation therapy indicatesthat the neutron's effect on normal tissues is not significantlyDiagram of the Chicago cyclotron setup, showing the heavyinsulation, the path of the deuteron beam, and location of theberyllium target. The collimator's function is to absorb strayradiation. The quadrupoles are magnets which serve as lensesto condense the beam. greater than that caused by X-rays, while the effect ontumors is greater. And the patient is subjected to considerablyless radiation in achieving this result. While X-ray treatmentsinvolve daily sessions for a period of approximately sixweeks, the same results — or better — can be achieved with fastneutrons in perhaps three visits a week for a month or less.Not only does this lessen the deleterious effects of theradiation, but it means that the apparatus can be used totreat more patients. The figures are not complete yet, ofcourse, but where a given X-ray source can be used in treatingperhaps 100 patients in a year, neutron treatment can takecare of at least twice as many."The technique is very promising to date, but it is still tooearly to know what its full potential will be," says Dr. MelvinGriem, professor in the Department of Radiology of the University's Pritzker School of Medicine and also director of theChicago Tumor Institute."It is only fitting," he adds, "that we are in the forefrontof this critically important exploration."By necessity a project such as neutron radiation of cancerinvolves the participation of both medical people and physicists. Collaborating with Dr. Griem have been LesterSkaggs, professor in the Department of Radiology and theFranklin McLean Memorial Institute, and Franca T. Kuch-nir, associate professor in the Department of Radiology andthe McLean Institute. Dr. Skaggs is responsible for the functioning of the cyclotron and the radiation transmission equipment as well as for supervision of safety factors and thephysics of delivering accurate dosages of neutrons.One of their problems involves the fact that a neutronsource creates gamma radiation as well as neutrons, and whileit is not difficult to measure the total radiation, it has beenextremely hard to say how much of each type of radiationgoes into the total. They successfully met this challenge bydevising a computer code which, using neutron yields atvarying angles of dissemination, causes the gamma radiation(which is constant at all angles) to cancel out, providing thebasis for good control of the dose measurement.The cyclotron which is being used in the neutron therapystudies was originally built for radioactive isotope work byDr. Paul V. Harper, Jr., professor in the Departments ofSurgery and Radiology and the McLean Institute. This workcontinues, and the neutron experiments are making use of theequipment on a shared time basis.The first experiments with neutron therapy were done atthe University of California thirty-seven years ago, only a fewyears after the discovery of the neutron. But the early resultswere not encouraging, and the treatment did not win acceptance.8British researchers, however, were not daunted by theseinitial experiments with fast neutrons, which caused excessiveamounts of damage to normal tissue. In 1950 the building ofa cyclotron for neutron therapy work was begun and muchpioneer work was done there. The neutrons produced by thiscyclotron, however, were relatively slow, and the Britishscientists felt that much more could be accomplished usingmore energetic radiation.The University is one of four research sites in the UnitedStates which have been launched to follow up on the Britishstudies (the others are at the University of Washington, TexasA. and M., and the Naval Research Laboratory near Washington).The Chicago cyclotron is rated at 8,000,000 electron volts.The neutrons are created by directing a beam of deuterons(heavy hydrogen) at a target of beryllium. The beam then isdirected toward where the patient sits or lies, in awell-shielded adjoining room.And the cyclotron at Chicago is the only one in the UnitedStates to be built into a hospital.Studies have shown that neutron treatments are more effective than X-rays for certain kinds of cancer, includingtumors of the head, neck, arms, legs and salivary glands, andalso for soft-tissue sarcomas. Like X-rays, neutrons are lesseffective in treatment of deep-seated malignancies.Use of neutrons in radiation therapy has two additionaladvantages:1. There is a differential in the amount of damage done byX-rays; this differential is related to the amount of oxygenpresent in the tissue: the better oxygenated the tissue, thegreater the damage caused by the radiation. Since a tumor, asit grows, tends to outgrow its blood supply and therefore tobecome short of oxygen, this hypoxia itself diminishes the effectiveness of the radiation. In the case of neutron radiationthis effect does not take place; lack of oxygen doesn't "protect" the tumor from neutron activity.2. Unlike X-rays, fast neutrons are not absorbed by bone.This means that when the radiation reaches a photographicplate, an image of soft tissue and of air space is obtained.In addition there have been indications that the use ofneutron radiation as an adjunct to surgery can, by reducingthe size of the malignancy, make it likely that the surgery willhave a better chance of success.Research has been going on at the University for more thana year in preparation for making neutron radiation therapyavailable to patients. Radiologists have evaluated the therapytechnique and studied its effects on animals. Their findings,Dr. Griem says, substantiated other test results which showedits efficacy for cancer control."We will continue our animal studies for at least anotheryear," he said. "One of the most important lines of inquirywe are now pursuing is a study of the effects of neutrontherapy on glioblastoma. To date, there is no real medicalhelp available for this disease. A patient will usually diewithin twenty-nine weeks after he develops this type of braintumor. X-ray treatments increase this time only slightly, -jo;-ELECTRONALPHA .•••»PARTICLE ••••• This diagram, after oneused in an article by Dr.Mary Catterall of the Hammersmith Hospital ,London, in the BritishJournal of Hospital Medicine, illustrates the difference in impact on amolecule caused by an electron (from an X-ray) and bythe particles created by aneutron.helping the patient to survive for forty-five weeks. If we canfind a successful means of treating these tumors, we will havemade significant progress in cancer research."A virus known to induce gliomas (which was discoveredby another University group consisting of Dr. WernerKirsten, professor and chairman of the Department ofPathology and professor in the Department of Pediatrics; Dr.Nicholas Vick, associate professor in the Department ofMedicine; and their co-workers) is being injected into ratbrains. To date, the radiologists have made no progress intheir endeavors to treat this cancer but their hope remainshigh. Other animal experiments are also being conductedalong separate but related lines. For example, the scientistsstudying the blood vessels in the rabbit ear in order to discover how blood supply affects tumor growth.Meanwhile, the protonWhile the work on neutron therapy goes on, the proton hasalso found a new place in the medical research picture, in acollaborative effort involving the University and ArgonneNational Laboratory. Because of the proton's sensitivity tothe tissue it enters — far greater than that of X-rays — it has thecapacity, according to Dr. Skaggs, to detect minute variationsin density and may be capable of discovering brain tumors assmall as 0.4 inch in diameter and breast tumors as small as0.16 inch.The medical end of the studies is being carried on by Dr. V.William Steward, research associate in neurosurgery and inthe Department of Radiology. They are collaborating withRead Moffett of Argonne's accelerator research facilitiesdivision, and the work has resulted in the design of a smallaccelerator which could be acquired by hospitals. Presentaccelerators are multi-million dollar giants which are beyondthe reach of hospitals. The Chicago-Argonne group is seeking$1,000,000 for the construction of two of these accelerators,one at the University and one at Argonne.Much testing of the use of the proton beam as a diagnostictool still remains to be done; the preliminary work has beenperformed using the booster synchrotron at Argonne.9THE MORAL LEGACYOF THE FOUNDING FATHERSAs the nation begins to celebrate its bicentennialit must not, an eminent historian points out, continueto be blind to a shameful aspect of its historyJohn Hope FranklinAs we approach the bicentennial of the independence of theUnited States, it may not be inappropriate to take advantageof the perspective afforded by these last two centuries. Such aperspective should enable us to understand the distance wehave traveled and where we are today.This stock-taking, as it were, seems unusually desirable,thanks to the recent crises in leadership, in confidence in ourpolitical institutions, and in the standards of public moralityto which we have paid only a "nodding acquaintance" overthe years. As we do so, it is well to remember that criticismdoes not necessarily imply hostility; and, indeed, the recognition of human weakness suggests no alienation. One thingthat becomes painfully clear as we look today at the shatteredcareers of so many public servants, with their confusion ofpublic service with personal gain, is that we cannot alwaysbe certain of the validity or the defensibility of the positionstaken by those who claim to be our leaders.One of the problems that we encounter as we look atour past as well as our present is that we tend to shy awayfrom making judgments or even criticisms of those whooccupy the seats of the mighty. To the uninitiated, it seemssomehow inappropriate. To the seasoned or cynical politician, it is anathema.To be sure, we ally ourselves with one political party oranother — as we have done since the time of Jefferson andHamilton — and we have railed against the politics of oneparty or, now and then, the conduct of party leaders.On the whole, however, our criticisms have been superficial; and the glass houses we have occupied have, forobvious reasons, prevented our engaging in all-out stricturesagainst our adversaries. The result has been that we haveMr. Franklin is the John Matthews Manly distinguished service professor of history. His article is adapted from a lecturehe gave earlier this year at Woodward Court. His most recentappearance in these pages was with "The Historian andPublic Policy" last fall. usually engaged in the most gentle rapping of the knuckles ofthose who have betrayed their public trust; and seldom havewe called our public servants to account in a really seriousway.In the effort to create an "instant history" with which wecould live and prosper, our early historians intentionallyplaced our early national heroes and leaders beyond the paleof criticism. From the time that Benjamin Franklin createdhis own hero in "Poor Richard" and Mason L. Weemscreated the cherry tree story about George Washington, it hasbeen virtually impossible to regard our Founding Fathers asnormal, fallible human beings. And this distorted image ofthem has not only created a gross historical fallacy, but it hasalso rendered it utterly impossible to deal with our past interms of the realities that existed at the time.To put it another way, our romanticizing about the historyof the late 18th century has prevented our recognizing the factthat the Founding Fathers made serious mistakes that havegreatly affected the course of our national history from thattime to the present.In 1974 we observed the bicentennial of the first Continental Congress, called to protest the new trade measuresinvoked against the colonies by Great Britain and to protest the political and economic measures directed particularly against the colony of Massachusetts. In a sense thesemeasures were, indeed, intolerable as the colonists wereforced to house British soldiers stationed in their midst, andQuebec was given political and economic privileges thatappeared to be clearly discriminatory against the thirteencolonies.But were these measures imposed by the British more intolerable than those imposed or, at least, sanctioned by thecolonists against their own slaves? And yet, the colonists wereoutraged that the mother country was denying them their ownfreedom— the freedom to conduct their trade as they pleased.It was not that the colonists were unaware of the problemof a much more basic freedom than that for which they werefighting in London. First of all, they knew of the 1772decision of Lord Mansfield in the Somerset case, in which10slavery was outlawed in Britain on the compelling ground thathuman bondage was "too odious" in England withoutspecific legislation authorizing it. Although the colonists didhave the authorization to establish and maintain slavery,Lord Mansfield's strictures against slavery could not havebeen lost on them altogether.Secondly, and even more important, the slaves themselveswere already pleading for their own freedom even before thefirst Continental Congress met. In the first six months of 1773several slaves in Massachusetts submitted petitions to theGeneral Court "praying to be liberated from a State ofslavery." In the following year scores of other slaves, denyingthat they had ever forfeited the blessings of freedom by anycompact or agreement to become slaves, asked for theirfreedom and for some land on which each of them "could sitdown quietly under his own fig tree." The legislature of theMassachusetts Colony debated the subject of slavery in 1774and 1775, but voted simply that "the matter now subside."But the matter would neither die nor subside. As thecolonists plunged into war with Great Britain, they were facedwith the problem of what to do about Negro slavery. Theproblem presented itself in the form of urgent questions.First, should they continue to import slaves?This was a matter of some importance to British slavetrading interests who had built fortunes out of the traffic inhuman beings and to colonists who feared that new, raw recruits from the West Indies and Africa would be more of aproblem than a blessing. Most of the colonies opposed anynew importations, and the Continental Congress affirmed theprohibition in April, 1776.Secondly, should the colonists use black soldiers in theirfight against Britain? Although a few were used in the earlyskirmishes of the war, a pattern of exclusion of blacks haddeveloped by the time that independence was declared. InJuly, 1775, the policy had been set forth that recruiters werenot to enlist any deserter from the British army, "nor anystroller, negro, or vagabond."Then, late in the year the British welcomed all Negroeswilling to join His Majesty's troops, and promised to set themfree in return. The colonists were terrified, especially with theprospect of a servile insurrection. And so the ContinentalCongress shortly reversed its policy and grudgingly admittedblacks into the Continental Army.The final consideration, as the colonists fought for theirown freedom from Britain, was what would be the effect oftheir revolutionary philosophy on their own slaves. Thecolonists argued in the Declaration of Independence that theywere oppressed; and they wanted their freedom. ThomasJefferson, in an early draft, went so far as to accuse the Kingof England of imposing slavery on them; but more"practical" heads prevailed, and that provision was strickenfrom the Declaration.Even so, the Declaration said "All men are created equal.""Black men as well as white men?" some wondered. Everyman had an inalienable right to "life, liberty, and the pursuitof happiness." "Every black man as well as every whiteman?" some could well have asked. How could the colonists make distinctions in their revolutionary philosophy? They either meant that all men werecreated equal or they did not mean it at all. They either meantthat every man was entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit ofhappiness, or they did not mean it at all.To be sure, some patriots were apparently troubled by thecontradictions between their revolutionary philosophy ofpolitical freedom and the holding of human beings inbondage. Abigail Adams, the wife of John Adams, admittedthat there was something strange about their fighting toachieve and enjoy a status that they daily denied to others.Patrick Henry, who had cried "Give me liberty or give medeath," admitted that slavery was "repugnant to humanity;"but not terribly repugnant, for he continued to hold blacks inbondage. So did George Washington and Thomas Jeffersonand George Mason and Edmund Randolph and many otherswho signed the Declaration of Independence or the federalConstitution. They simply would not or could not see howridiculous their position was.And where the movement to emancipate the slaves tookhold, as in New England and in some of the Middle Atlanticstates, slavery was not economically profitable anyway. Consequently, if the patriots in those states were genuinely opposed to slavery, they could afford the luxury of speakingagainst it. But in neither of the Continental Congresses nor inthe Declaration of Independence did the Founding Fatherstake an unequivocal, categorical stand against slavery. Obviously, human bondage and human dignity were not as important to them as their own political and economic independence.The Founding Fathers were not only compelled to live withtheir own inconsistency but they also had to stand convictedbefore the very humble group which they excluded from theirpolitical and social fellowship. In 1777 a group of Massachusetts blacks told the whites of that state that every principlewhich impelled America to break with England "pleadsstronger than a thousand arguments" against slavery. In 1779a group of Connecticut slaves petitioned the state for theirliberty, declaring that they "groaned" under the burdens andindignities they were required to bear.In 1781, Paul Cuffe and his brother, two young enterprising blacks, asked Massachusetts to excuse them from theduty of paying taxes, since they "had no influence in the election of those who tax us." And when they refused to pay theirtaxes, those who had shouted that England's taxation withoutrepresentation was tyranny, slapped the Cuffe brothers injail!Thus, when the colonists emerged victorious from their warwith England, they had both their independence and theirslaves. It seemed to matter so little to most of the patriots thatthe slaves themselves had eloquently pointed out their inconsistencies or that not a few of the patriots themselves saw andpointed out their own fallacious position. It made no difference that 5,000 blacks had joined in the fight for independence, only to discover that real freedom did not apply tothem. The agencies that forged a national policy againstEngland — the Continental Congresses and the government11under the Articles of Confederation — were incapable offorging — or unwilling to forge — a national policy in favor ofhuman freedom.It was not a propitious way to start a new nation, especiallysince its professions were so different from its practices andsince it presumed to be the model for other new worldcolonies that would, in time, seek their independence fromthe tyranny of Europe.Having achieved their own independence, the patriots exhibited no great anxiety to extend the blessings of liberty tothose among them who did not enjoy it. They could not altogether ignore the implications of the revolutionary philosophy, however. As early as 1777 the Massachusetts legislaturehad under consideration a measure to prohibit "the practiceof holding persons in Slavery." Three years later the newconstitution of that state declared that "all men are born freeand equal." Some doubtless hoped that those high soundingwords would mean more in the Constitution of Massachusettsthan they had meant in the Declaration of Independence.Her neighbors, however, were more equivocal, with NewHampshire, Connecticut and Rhode Island vacillating, forone reason or another, until another decade had passed. Although Pennsylvania did abolish slavery in 1780, New Yorkand New Jersey did no better than prepare the groundworkfor gradual emancipation at a later date.One may well be greatly saddened by the thought that theauthor of the Declaration of Independence and the commander of the Revolutionary army and so many heroes of theRevolution were slaveholders. Even more disheartening, ifsuch is possible, is that those same leaders and heroes werenot greatly affected by the philosophy of freedom which theyespoused. At least they gave no evidence of having beengreatly affected by it.Nor did they show any great magnanimity of spirit, oncethe war was over and political independence was assured.While northerners debated the questions of how and whenthey would free their slaves, the institution of human bondageremained as deeply entrenched as ever — from Delaware toGeorgia. The only area on which there was national agreement that slavery should be prohibited was the area east ofthe Mississippi River and north of the Ohio River — theNorthwest Territory. The agreement to prohibit slavery inthat area, where it did not really exist and where relatively fewwhite settlers lived, posed no great problem and surely it didnot reflect a ground swell for liberty.Meanwhile the prohibition, it should be noted, did notapply to the area south of the Ohio River, where slaveholderswere more likely to settle anyway! This clearly shows that theFounding Fathers were willing to "play" with the seriousquestion of freedom, thus evincing a cynicism that was itselfunworthy of statesmanship.Nor is one uplifted or inspired by the attitude of the Founding Fathers toward the slave trade, once their independencewas secured. In the decade following independence the importation of slaves into the United States actually increasedover the previous decade as well as over the decade before theWar for Independence began. Far from languishing, the in stitution of slavery was prospering and growing. In itsdeliberations between 1781 and 1789 the Congress of theConfederation barely touched on the question of slavery orthe slave trade. There was, to be sure, some concern over thecapture of slaves; and the Congress gave some attention to aQuaker petition against the trade, but it took no action.On the whole the nation did not raise a hand against it. Theflurry of activity in the states, which led to the prohibition ofslave importations in some of them and a temporary cessationof the trade in others, had the effect of misleading manypeople into thinking that slavery's hold on the nation wasweakening.That this was far from the actual situation became painfully clear when the delegates gathered in Philadelphia in 1787to write a new Constitution. In the discussion over the slavetrade only practical and economic considerations held sway.Humane considerations simply were not present. Marylandand Virginia tended to oppose the slave trade simply becausethey were overstocked and were not anxious to have any largeimportations into their midst. South Carolina and Georgia,where the death rate in the rice swamps was high and whereslaveholders needed new recruits to develop new areas, demanded an open door for slave dealers.And who rushed to the rescue when South Carolinademanded concessions on the question of the slave trade? Itwas Oliver Ellsworth of Connecticut, who observed that aprovision in the Constitution against the slave trade would be"unjust towards South Carolina and Georgia. Let us notintermeddle," he said. "As population increases, poorlaborers will be so plenty as to render slaves useless." It isimpossible to conceive that such temporizing on the part of aleading colonist would have been tolerated in the late disputewith England.Could the new national government that was designed to bestrong have anything to say regarding slavery and the slavetrade in the states? Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts answeredthat it could not. It only had to refrain from giving directsanction to the system.Perhaps this is the view that seemed to silence the venerableBenjamin Franklin. The oldest and easily one of the mostrespected members of the Constitutional Convention, Franklin brought with him a strong resolution against the slavetrade that had been entrusted to him by the PennsylvaniaAbolition Society. Although he was one of the most frequentspeakers at the Convention, he never introduced the resolution. With faint hearts such as Gerry's and Franklin's there islittle wonder that South Carolina and Georgia were able tohave their own way in wording the provision that declaredthat the slave trade could not be prohibited for anothertwenty years. One need only to look at the slave importationfigures between 1788 and 1808 to appreciate how muchadvantage was taken of this generous reprieve.The Founding Fathers did no better when it came tocounting slaves for purposes of representation and taxation.Northerners, who regarded slaves as property, insisted thatfor the purpose of representation they could not be countedas people. Southern slaveholders, while cheerfully admitting12that slaves were property, insisted that they were also peopleand should be counted as such. It is one of the remarkableironies of the early history of this democracy that the verymen who had shouted so loudly that all men were createdequal could not now agree on whether or not persons ofAfrican descent were men at all.The irony was compounded when, in the so-called majorcompromise of the Constitution, the delegates agreed that aslave was three-fifths of a man, meaning that five slaves wereto be counted as three persons. The magic of racism can workmagic with the human mind. One wonders whether CatherineDrinker Bowen had this in mind when she called her historyof the Constitutional Convention The Miracle at Philadelphia.If slaveholders feared possible insurrections by their slaves,they were no less apprehensive about the day-to-day attritionof the institution caused by slaves running away. They wantedto be certain that the Constitution recognized slaves asproperty and that it offered protection to that property, especially runaways. Significantly, there was virtually no opposition to the proposal that states give up fugitive slaves to theirowners. The slaveowners had already won such sweepingconstitutional recognition of slavery that the fugitive slaveprovision may be regarded as something of an anti-climax.There was, as Roger Sherman of Connecticut pointed out, asmuch justification for the public seizure and surrendering of aslave as there was for the seizure of a horse. Thus, a slave,who was only three-fifths of a man, was to be regarded in thisconnection as no more than a horse!And the Constitution required that slaves who ran awaywere not to enjoy the freedom that they had won in their ownprivate war for independence, but were to be returned tothose who claimed title to them. Consequently, there was aremarkable distinction between fighting for one's politicalindependence, which the patriots expected to win, and did,and fighting for one's freedom from slavery, which thesesame patriots made certain that the slaves would not win.At the outset it was observed that we tend to shy away frommaking criticisms or judgments of those who occupy the seatsof the mighty. This is not good either for ourselves or theinstitutions and way of life we seek to foster. If we would dealwith our past in terms of the realities that existed at the time,it becomes necessary for us to deal with our early leaders intheir own terms, namely, as frail, fallible human beings, and—at times— utterly indifferent to the great causes theyclaimed to serve.We may admire them for many things: their courage andbravery in the military struggle against Britain; their imaginative creativity in forging a new instrument of government;and their matchless service to a cause that captured theimagination of people around the world.It does not follow, however, that we should admire themfor betraying the ideals to which they gave lip service, forspeaking eloquently at one moment for the brotherhood ofman and in the next moment denying it to their black brotherswho fought by their side in their darkest hours of peril, andfor degrading the human spirit by equating five black men with three white men or equating a black man with a horse!We are concerned here not so much for the harm that theFounding Fathers did to the cause which they claimed to serveas for the harm that their moral legacy has done to everygeneration of their progeny. Having created a tragicallyflawed revolutionary doctrine and a Constitution that didnot bestow the blessings of liberty on its posterity, theFounding Fathers set the stage for every succeeding generation of Americans to apologize, compromise, and temporizeon those principles of liberty that were supposed to be thevery foundation of our system of government and way of life.That is why the United States was so very apprehensivewhen Haiti and most of the other Latin American countriessought to wipe out slavery the moment they received theirpolitical independence. The consistency of those nations wasalien to the view of the United States on the same question.That is why the United States failed to recognize the existence of the pioneer republics of Haiti and Liberia until thisnation was in the throes of a great civil war and sought to"use" these countries for colonizing some blacks. Earlierrecognition would have implied an equality in the humanfamily that the United States was unwilling to concede.That is why this nation tolerated and, indeed, nurtured thecultivation of a racism that has been as insidious as it has beenpervasive.Racial segregation, discrimination, and degradation are nounanticipated accidents in this nation's history. They stemlogically and directly from the legacy that the FoundingFathers bestowed upon contemporary America. The denial ofequality in the year of independence led directly to the denialof equality in the era of the bicentennial of independence. Theso-called compromises in the Constitution of 1787 led directlyto the arguments in our own time that we can compromiseequality with impunity and somehow use the Constitution asan instrument to preserve privilege and to foster inequality. Ithas thus become easy to invoke the spirit of the FoundingFathers whenever we seek ideological support for the social,political and economic inequities that have become a part ofthe American way.It would be perverse indeed to derive satisfaction fromcalling attention to the flaws in the character and conduct ofthe Founding Fathers. And it would be irresponsible to do somerely to indulge in whimsical iconoclasm.But it would be equally irresponsible in the era of the bicentennial of independence not to use the occasion to examineour past with a view to improving the human condition.An appropriate beginning, it would seem, would be to celebrate our origins for what they were — to honor the principlesof independence for which so many patriots fought and died.It is equally appropriate to be outraged over the manner inwhich the principles of human freedom and human dignitywere denied and debased by those same patriots. Their legacyto us in this regard cannot, under any circumstances, be cherished or celebrated. Rather, this legacy represents a continuing and dismaying problem that requires us all to putforth as much effort to overcome it as the Founding Fathersdid in handing it down to us.13What the butterflies are telling usHumanity's fragile instrument for survivalPaul Brian MooreI derive much pleasure from butterflies. Pursuit of theseephemeral creatures has taken me to four continents on theglobe — to lush rain forests in the Amazon basin of Peru andBrazil; the Central American countries British Honduras andNicaragua; the central spine of the Malay Peninsula; and thefascinating islands of Papua-New Guinea and Guadalcanal.But I shall not talk to you about my adventures. Rather, Iwould like to say a few words about the adventures of butterflies and how their problems relate to ours.Since butterflies are fairly open and showy creatures andsince many naturalists have collected and studied them allover the world, only about six new species names are introduced these days to science each year.The vast majority of butterfly species are rare — that is,Mr. Moore stalks a butterfly. their occurrence is local and very restricted. Some are knownfrom only one island. Delias lemoulti, for example, is knownonly from the East Indies island of Timor and only onespecimen has ever been captured.Danaus plexippus (our monarch butterfly) on the otherhand is known from virtually every tropical and temperatecontinent and country. I venture to guess that if you were tovisit every country and every island on the globe, spendingone day at each place, you would probably see no more than500 of the 10,000 known species of butterfly.Butterflies suck fluids and mulch pollen through a haus-tellum or extendable proboscis. This feeding does notcontribute to growth but provides nutrients for sustained useof the muscles, particularly of the wings.Butterflies have no aggressive defenses: they cannot sting,bite, pinch, claw, cut or tear. Their defenses are highlyelaborate combinations of protective resemblances coupledwith complex behavior patterns and in many tropicalexamples, gaudy colors and distasteful body juices. Perhapsmore than any other higher organisms, the order Lepidopteraincludes the most discrete, diverse and variegated in color,shape, size and habit. In size alone, one species is known witha wingspread of only one-eighth inch and another with awingspread over one and one-half feet!Like all living things, butterflies by and large lead a precarious existence between their predators and their foodplants. We know a lot about the description of butterflyadults, less about their caterpillars and chrysali, and muchless about their host food plants and the roles these plantsplay in their metabolism. Some butterflies eat only a singlespecies of food plant, many are limitedly polyphagous—usually confined to several species of a plant genus— and afew lucky ones are extensively polyphagous, taking onMr. Moore (sm'63, p1id'65) is professor in the Departmentof Geophysical Sciences and the College. In his professionalfield he specializes in, among other things, atomic arrangements in minerals, and he was one of the group whichanalyzed lunar samples. His avocation, however, is butterflies, and he has pursued them in faraway parts of the world,from Peru to New Guinea and Guadalcanal. This article isadapted from a talk he gave to a group of students.14different families and even orders of plants. These lastmentioned have a tendency to become pests, as we wouldsuspect.About 80% of all butterfly species are found within 15° ofthe equator. The number of butterfly species increases inrough proportion to the increase in area of land mass, all elsebeing equal.When I walk into a tropical rain forest, I am not struck bythe number of individual butterflies, but in the extreme diversity of species. On a recent Peruvian expedition, I captured1,000 specimens of butterflies, 600 of which were distinctspecies. Let me remind you that in the entire North Americancontinent, there are no more than 400 distinct species of truebutterflies.Most of the species in the tropical rain forests are terriblyspecialized. Occurring in small populations, usually local,they are either monophagous or otherwise delicately tuned totheir immediate environment. As a result, a riot of strangecolor combinations and wing shapes appears, with eachspecies seemingly forced to play out a particular and highlyspecialized role. Even their behavior is specialized: some looklike a dead leaf and land as such; others resemble the bark ofcertain trees and land with outspread wings flush against thetree as a result; others possess false eye spots or ocelli and afew of these act as if they were monsters of some sort.Mimetic complexes of a number of species are typical in thetropical rain forests. Here, non-toxic and eminently palatablemimics gain protection from predator-toxic models. A birdpredator has a fine memory and soon learns that certainspecies will provide him not with nutrition but an upsetstomach. That bird will not forget the pattern, even to thefinest detail, after a few bellyaches. The great New Worldfamily of Heliconidae is a beautiful example of this. Sympatic relationships, where butterflies "of a feather flocktogether," are maintained even to the finest detail of eveningcommunal roosting behavior, and as many as five discretespecies, barely distinguishable by casual glance, will spenddays and evenings together. Their brilliant colors and lazyflight are a consequence of their distasteful aspect to birdsand possibly even other predators, such as amphibians, andthe subsequent advantages of the protected or mimeticumbrella.Our familiar Danaus plexippus-Limenitis archippus (ormonarch-viceroy) mimetic complex (spanning two discretebutterfly families) is one such example.From all this, we are led to some conclusions about theprocession of forms resulting from selective evolutionarypressure. So long as you are in perfect equilibrium with yourfood and your predators, you should continue surviving asspecies, all else remaining constant. Removal of the predatorsresults in an increasing butterfly population, wreaking havocon the prey food plant with eventual starvation and extinctionat some succeeding generation. You can get around this if youare sufficiently adaptive, like the gypsy moth, but even so, theworld food supply is the upper limit.So the fittest are not the robust gaudy butterflies we soadore in nature and in collections, but those highly adaptive Charaxes delphinion captured by Mr. Moore on the Malaypeninsula.duller forms such as the cabbage white butterfly and thegypsy moth.Thus, the prey-predator-prey-predator balance is, in thelong pull, healthy for survival of species. Note here, asbefore, that a butterfly is both prey and predator at the sametime, the former at all stages, the latter at the voracious caterpillar stage. The sacrifice of some individuals in thecommunity leads to a collective commonweal, especiallyamong the mimetic complexes.Failure of the natural equilibrium can lead to disaster. Thegypsy moth caterpillar is a real rascal. Not indigenous to ourland, it succeeded in taking firm hold of vast territories,particularly in the East, shortly after introduction by a misinformed 19th-century breeder who hoped to rear the insect forsilk production. Millions of dollars annually are spent withfirm resolve to eradicate this interloper, but so far to littleavail. Just last year, it succeeded in eating its way through apart of Pennsylvania and much of Connecticut. Afterfinishing off its favorite foods — walnut, elm, oak andmaple — it would then seize upon — of all things! — conifers! Iwalked through a forest, largely denuded, in late June oflast year not far from Storrs, Connecticut. The caterpillarswere so plentiful that their excrement dripped against leavesproducing a sound, the cumulative effective of which was toevoke images of a gentle but persistent rain. The floor of theforest was so thick with fallen caterpillars that my shoesliterally became green after a casual walk.Another fascinating scaly-wing is the monarch. A Danaid,it possesses tough, leathery wings which can sustain manythousands of miles of migratory flight. Its world-wide dispersal is phenomenal. Specimens captured in Peru, the UnitedStates and New Guinea reveal differences so small that theyhardly qualify as distinct forms or races, suggesting that long-15term separation of colonies is unlikely; new, weary longdistance travelers are constantly moving in, breeding, andkeeping the gene pool homogeneous.I find it a bit odd that the monarch — one of the handful ofsuch butterflies on our continent — is both migratory andprotected from predators owing to its purgative body juices.A final capping is a further curious feature: it is confined inits culinary tastes to Asclepiadae — species of milkweed.Unlike the flagrantly polyphagous gypsy moth caterpillar, itscaterpillar is confined to a family of plants of limitedspecies. Is it possible that migration — distances of up to 3,000miles have been recorded — is a necessity for survival of thespecies and that migration assures continued survival of itsfood plants? Is it possible that the females of earlier generations, in search of fresh food upon which to lay eggs, oncehad to fly even farther away to seek new sources of food (theold already stripped bare by the protected caterpillar) and inso doing after many generations, a standing wave oscillationwas set up, which we call migration?Butterflies utilize essentially one raw material — their foodplant or plants. Unlike Homo sapiens (a polyphagous andrampantly proliferating species), they cannot wilfully altertheir environment and so reflect as pawns on a chessboard thealterations of the environment imposed upon them. From thebutterflies, can we say something about man, somethingabout the prey-predator-prey-predator chain imposed uponhim?Man, unlike the lower forms, has subdued nearly all hispredators through control and in some cases, exterminationof other species, and through his own enormous population. Isay "nearly all " for I suspect some peculiar strain or evennew species of virus could conceivably recoil with fourfoldstrength and flatten a good fraction of our civilized population. This is hardly a picture of the romantic demise of a pre-civilized man who faced other threatening mammals with aclub. Yet a species of virus is just as good a predator asanother mammal.But, by and large, man has advanced to the stage of beinglocked into a closed prey-predator relationship, what some ofus call auto-predation. The tablet of his written destiny shallbe chiseled of his own hands. An accidental comet crashinginto a critical city could set off a terrible chain of events, aculmination of chronic international misunderstanding andnon-communication. But this is not the classic prey-predatormodel we learn about in school and see about us in the forestand the seas. This is a far more complex, non-linear andunpredictable model.What about man's food plants? I like the idea that population density per unit area is a meaningless concept but thatpopulation density per unit affected area is what matters.Before we thread needles over the possibility of settlements onthe moon and of vertical cities five miles thick and 10,000miles square, let us see first if there are more immediate alternatives where the quality and not the quantity of life isassured. By affected area, I mean that tract of land which, onthe average, provides the average needs for each individual,taking the standard of living into account. This idea has interesting consequences: in a society such asour own, per capita demands are at least one order of magnitude greater than that of India. This huge increase accruesfrom the necessity of gasoline driven engines (an average oftwo per family), homes replete with TV sets, far too muchwasted food, hi-fis, electric light bulbs, a refrigerator, airconditioner, gas burning stove, hot and cold running water, agenerous and inefficiently used wardrobe to mention a fewitems, not even attempting to mention the endless fripperiesof our culture.Yet these things are not given to us by the grace of God!They are the products of a highly complex, highly advancedand highly wasteful technology. Add all of these things up tothe last nut and bolt and we consume at least one order ofmagnitude more than the average Indian family. In terms ofeffective population, if India's population measures in thehundreds of millions, our population certainly measures inthe billions! In short, each one of you consumes on theaverage the amount of energy to keep active an Indian familyof ten! That this affected area of land I talk about is moreoften than not in some other country does not matter. Likethe monarch butterfly, we are a widely dispersed species andhave the vehicle for further dispersal. Unlike the monarchbutterfly, our appetite touch all things — animal, vegetableand mineral.Grim scenariosLet me paint you a scenario:In 1994, the entire Great Plains states experience anextended period of non-productivity. Systematic removal ofnutrients and minerals through widely dispersed annual consumption of cattle, hogs, corn, wheat, barley and oats hassimply led to impoverished soil. Unfortunately, most of thesoil of the Great Plains states is underlain by clays and limestone which cannot provide additional nutrients at aneffective rate. There are no volcanic terrains — and the attendant mineral-rich basaltic soil — in sight. The relative lack ofknowledge of the ecology and organic conversion of fertilizers, coupled with an incompletely developed fertilizer science (huge funds still go into cancer research and other moretangible and glamorous problems) and limited fertilizer rawmaterials has led to utter failure of artificial nutrients exceptin local pockets. In short, the United States is forced toimport most of her food from Canada, where with low population and more favorable soil, she continues to reap aharvest.However, India is experiencing a widespread famine, resulting from severe droughts and impoverished land, a resultof an ecological disaster which swept through north-centralAfrica ten years ago, claiming 10,000,000 lives. But India isthreatened with the loss of over 50,000,000 people. (Americanfamilies still can see live coverage of starving thousands ontheir color TVs.) Riots spread throughout the land, there is athreat of plague (rats and lice are always guaranteed "bigwin" in densely populated undernourished areas) and India'stop scientists and leaders knock heads together.16Mr. Moore found this Charaxes schreiberi in Malaysia.Their decision: to internationally blackmail the grainproducing nations such as Canada and Australia by the threatof nuclear holocaust. This comes as a big surprise to the bigpowers, for their intellectuals suspected that it would not besome mouse who might roar. However, five years earlier,India succeeded in developing several breeder reactorsthrough the generosity of the United States and had plenty ofplutonium as a result.If you find this a bit terrifying, how about a more gloomyscenario?In 1994, as the result of continuing and chronic ineptitude,graft, greed and general corruption, the federal governmentof the United States forces the country into isolation. The restof the world is fed up with American opportunism, opulencyand moralizing on other peoples' problems, and hassucceeded, bit by bit, in cutting off trade with the U.S.A.Peru now supplies much of the New World oil, the Arabcountries have come to a long-term settlement with Europe,and Indonesia is pumping oil into Chinese and Japaneseindustries and homes. Enormous new-found mineral resources in the new nation of Panacea (formerly Papua-NewGuinea) provide Japanese industries further.A drought coupled with general mineral depletion of thesoils hits the Great Plains states. The country is thrown intochaos: food riots occur everywhere. As a short-term measure,food is rationed. As a long-term measure, infanticide is introduced, for basic nutrients now cost about two-thirds of theaverage family income, most of the food prepared artificially.Industry, in consort with the federal government, refuses totake any losses on this. Finally, in a fit of federal paranoia,the United States threatens the rest of the world with nuclearand nerve gas warfare. At this stage, all intelligent communication at higher levels is dictated by an IBM computer.The reason I suspect that such scenarios as these terrify all of us is that they have a certain eerie reality all their own. Iften years ago we read novels with titles like "The WatergateConnection" or "The Strange Case of Patty Hearst" wewould dismiss the authors for being too fanciful, too frivolous, too out of touch with everyday events and realities. Butthese stories would not terrify us because they don't touch usvery much. A doomsday-type scenario, on the other hand,hits all of us too close to home; for in it, we are all actors andactresses. Newspapers are gloomy and ghoulish enough, butmost of the topics are terribly local and, like our flashytropical butterflies, a bit specialized. Yet I can assure youwhile you are sitting here that starvation and pestilence is away of life in certain parts of Africa right now.But I am sure of one thing: that all of you will come to livewith aspects of these problems. Lord knows what your children will have to live with. Let me just leave you with thesobering thought that your birth on this planet does not entitle you to any privileges in particular and that the privilegesyou enjoy are the results of your heritage and the sacrifice ofyour forebears, not the course of the natural world or thegrace of God. As rapidly approaching adults, you will have tothink for yourselves, do your bit for the species, ours andothers, and accept the consequences for your actions.If our number one problem is population, we can do ourbit! I like the idea that the highest form of morality is ecological consciousness. Even if, as some religions would leadus to believe, God is picking his fingernails over this issue,nevertheless we poor mortals are faced with our worldlyproblems. Let us not make a hasty appeal to the Grand Designer to bail us out of this, our own predicament! Let uscontinue to procreate our species, but with some seriousnessof purpose; let us put the birth of a child as the most important and responsible event in our lives.Quiescent organI say these things because, as an intrepid optimist, I feelthat each of us has the potential toward ecological consciousness and responsibility toward our species and the otherspecies. I feel, as for the butterflies, we also have some protective mechanisms to assure our survival.One of these may be our brain. Although feebly detected atpresent, there is some positive indication that this ratherquiescent organ can be used toward societal enlightenment,especially toward the assurance of future generations thatthey, too, shall see their grandchildren. In short, we mustalways strive to think in terms of the quality, not the quantity,of life. For life's qualities, the little book of essays, WhatShall We Defend? by Denham Sutcliffe, has much to say.But the ultimate destiny of our species will be written on atablet textured from the cumulative conscious decisions ofliving individuals. Like the butterflies, there is some collectivity in behavior which provides safety for the species.Unlike the butterflies, this is not a passive thing such as thedesigns on a wing, but an active quality, an awareness of ourpredicament. This is what makes our species unique and lifeitself precious.17'Billiards is a good game'Gamesmanship and America's first Nobel Prize scientistNorman F. MacleanWhen I came here in 1928, now more than half the history ofthe University ago, the University of Chicago was the oneinstitution of higher learning that was thought to exist west ofthe Appalachians by the populace east of the Appalachians.This widespread recognition was based largely on the namesof Leopold and Loeb, Clarence Darrow (who in the easternmind was also connected with the University of Chicago),A. A. Stagg, and Albert Abraham Michelson, who in 1907had been the first American to win the Nobel Prize in science.Before arriving on campus, I may also have heard of ArthurHolly Compton, because only the year before he had beenawarded the Nobel Prize, but I have the feeling I did notknow of him until I saw Mrs. Compton showing him off atintermissions in Mandel Hall.Michelson and Einstein, however, were the best known scientists of the time — in some ways for almost opposite reasons, although both were physicists. Einstein was the wonderof the world because he had encased the whole universe in asimple formula, E = mc2, which we were told, equally wonderful to us, would be very upsetting if we could understandit. Especially to us who could not understand, he was thetheorist beyond theorists.Michelson's wonder was what his head did with his hands,and a few boxes and rotating mirrors. He measured things,especially things that were regarded as unmeasurable, ineffable, and precious as life itself. Among other things, hehad measured light and a star. I watched him play billiardsnearly every noon for several months before he retired fromthe University, and, in introducing myself, I could further saywith equal truth, "Shake the hand that shook the hand ofJohn L. Sullivan." If I get the right opening, though, I prefersaying, "When young, I watched Michelson play billiards."Michelson's hands were to make many things that broughtlight to our universe, but nothing so marked him in thepopular mind as his measurement of the speed of light itself.Throughout most of history, light had been thought of as in-Mr. Maclean, (p1id'40) professor emeritus of English and theWilliam Rainey Harper professor emeritus in the College,discussed his recollections of A. A. Michelson in a brief talkbefore the Alumni Cabinet almost two years ago. Since thenhe has expanded them into the accompanying article. Mr.Maclean was thrice honored for excellence in undergraduateteaching as a member of the University's faculty; he has justcompleted The River Runs Through It; and Other Stories,which will be published next year by the University ofChicago Press, the Press' first venture ever into the field offiction. stantaneous and present wherever there was nothing to cast ashadow, and probably throughout all history light will bethought of by poets and the rest of us as the source of bodyand soul, without which there would be no photosynthesis orfood or love or moonlight in which to make love. Withoutlight for a metaphor there would have been little poetrywritten and no candlelight to write it by. Christ said, "I amthe light of the world," and Cardinal Newman's hymn toHim begins, "Lead, kindly light."Michelson was to measure the speed of light many times(his most accurate figure being 186,285 ±2'/2 miles persecond) and modern electronic equipment has changed thatfigure to only 186,282.3960. When in 1878 as an ensign inAnnapolis he made his first measurement he spent $10.00 ofhis own money to assemble his equipment (for $10.00 lightmeasured 186,508 miles per second).In 1928, three years before his death, everyone said ofMichelson, "He measured light," and today he is one of thefew Nobel Prize winners whom nearly all educated people canname and give the reason for the award, although Michelson's award actually was based on a wide spectrum of experiments. His youngest daughter showed her father's own senseof truth and artistry when she entitled her recent biography ofhim, The Master of Light.*Of course, the fact that he was the first American to win theNobel Prize in science helped to enshrine him both nationallyand locally. Nowadays Nobel Prize winners at times seem tocome a dime a dozen and every now and then in job-lots, twoor three to an award, but for a long time in history there wasnone and then there was one and he was at the University ofChicago. President Harper himself had started the Universityon its long string of firsts — the first university to have asummer school, the first extension division organized as partof a university, the first university press to have its own press,and, certainly not least or last, the first university to havewomen on its faculty and a dean of women. But probably theUniversity's two most unforgettable firsts go to Michelson forthe first American Nobel Prize in science (1907) and to EnricoFermi and his group for the first self-sustained nuclearreaction (1942). To include one of my old students, I'll addJay Berwanger for the first Heisman Trophy (1935).In 1928, when I first saw Michelson he was eating lunch atthe Quadrangle Club, and I thought instantly of the openingof Carl Sandburg's poem, "I saw a famous man eatingsoup." One look at Michelson in old age and there could beno doubt that he was famous. He did not eat at the tablereserved for the physicists. He ate at a table always reserved*Dorothy Michelson Livingston, The Master of Light: A Biographyof Albert A. Michelson (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1973).18for him alone, arid he occasionally smiled as he drew on hisnapkin. The waitress told us he drew sketches of the facultyhe did not care to eat with. She said they all had long noses.Few of us in these present days of unfamous and infamousmen have any idea of what it was like to be one of the two orthree most famous physicists of the early twentieth centuryand to eat your soup at a table reserved for you alone. Themeaning of the words "elite" and "aristocratic" have beenlost, except in their profane senses, and it is doubtful if wewould recognize an aristocrat if there were one and we happened to see him. But at the first general open meeting in 1900of the American Physical Society (of which Michelson wasvice-president seven years before his Nobel Prize), its president, Henry Rowland, addressed his fellow members asfollows:... We meet here in the interest of a science above all scienceswhich deals with the foundation of the Universe . . . with theconstitution of matter from which everything in the Universe ismade and with the ether of space by which alone the variousportions of matter forming the Universe affect each other. . .. . . We form a small and unique body of men, a new varietyof the human race as one of our greatest scientists calls it, whoseviews of what constitutes the greatest achievement in life arevery different from those around us. In this respect we form anaristocracy, not of wealth, not of pedigree, but of intellect andof ideals.In case present-day readers might feel this prose is runningover with self-anointed oil, they should start jotting down thenames of some of the late-nineteenth and early-twentiethcentury physicists whom they and the world remember:Madame Curie and her husband, Pierre (radium and radioactivity), Lord Kelvin (as in Kelvinator), James Clerk Maxwell (electromagnetic field), Wilhelm Conrad Rontgen (X-rays), and, to end where we began, Einstein and Michelson.Every once in a while science comes to a place where it meets abunch of great men coming its way who are big enough tooverturn it and then set it on its wheels again but going forever in a different direction.But his being the first American physicist to win the NobelPrize still doesn't give us an adequate measurement of howhigh Michelson stood in the firmament of men apart fromother men. Michelson was a Navy man. He had received hisbasic scientific training at Annapolis and it was better allaround and forever after not to forget he had been a navalofficer.Shortly before anyone else in the dining room had finishedhis lunch, Michelson rose and went downstairs. Before long, Iheard that he went down to the billiard room and probably atthe same time I heard he was a fine billiard player. Nobody inthe University, I was told, was good enough to play with him.Immediately, I started arriving earlier for lunch, and, whenhe folded his long-nosed napkin, I rose and followed him.So for at least several months before he left Chicago forgood, I sat on one of those high pool-room chairs for ten orfifteen minutes at noon and watched the famous physicistplay billards after he ate soup and sketched the ordinary self-anointed physicists with whom he did not sit. He and I occasionally spoke. Most of our communication, however, wascarried on by a lifted eyebrow followed by a nod or shake of Professor Michelsonthe head. He lifted the eyebrow, and I shook or nodded thehead.I had come here in 1928 to start graduate work with anA.B. in English from Dartmouth, and, since I had taughtcourses there in freshman English for two years after graduation, I was able to start here as a Graduate Assistant, a formof degradation that has since been abolished, at least in theEnglish Department. As the first half of the title suggests, itwas bestowed upon certain graduate students, but the secondhalf of the title, "Assistant," gives no idea of how littlemoney and how much servility went with it.Only a few years later (in 1932), Vanity Fair, the magazineof the sophisticates (The New Yorker just getting under way),started publishing a series of caricatures by Covarrubias entitled "Impossible Interviews," the one that comes to mindfirst being between Mae West and Dowager-Queen Marie ofRomania. If Covarrubias had seen the young GraduateAssistant in English and the great and aging physicist whowas the first American Nobel Prize winner in science gatheredeach noon around a billiard table he might have included us inhis series.In 1928 there were two ways graduate students in Englishwithout money could see their way to an advanced degree,both involving considerable medical risk. Besides "theGraduate Assistant route," which was the scenic detour,there was the more common family way which was to marry afellow graduate student, the marriage vows often consistingonly of promises that each would take his or her turn inworking on some job until the other received his or her Ph.D.In 1928 (as in 1975) it always fell out that it was the woman'sturn first to give up her graduate studies and become the19bread-winner. By the time the male finally fenced in a Ph.D.,the female of the species had had so many children and jobsand was so generally worn-out (or dead) that it was too latefor her and she could never bear to open a book again, exceptfor pleasure.The "Assistant" half of a Graduate Assistant needs a littlemore defining before one can appreciate the spectator as wellas the billiard player in the coming scene. A Graduate Assistant, in addition to taking graduate courses, could teach up tothree sections a quarter of the required course in EnglishComposition at the rate of $200 per section. Financially, thismeant that a Graduate Assistant who taught the full scheduleof three sections for three quarters of a school year made$1,800. Since many of our freshmen in 1928 were still fromthe rural Middle West, being a Graduate Assistant teachingthree sections of English Composition spiritually meant goinghome late Friday afternoon, having a couple of shots of Prohibition gin, going to bed right after dinner and reading thirty(students) times three (sections) of one-thousand-word compositions on "How to Fill a Silo." By then, he was too weakto get out of bed, and besides he had to start preparing thegraduate courses he was taking.So the great difference between the two kinds of needygraduate students in English was in how they spent theirweekends in bed. As a result of my weekends, I became anexpert on corn, but my conversations with the great physicistwere still limited to billiards.For instance, we never mentioned bridge; yet I wassoon to discover he hurried down to the billiard room beforeanyone else left upstairs because he wanted to play bridge butwas not a good bridge player. Although he was too good atbilliards to play with anybody in the club, none of the bridgeplayers in the room next to the billiard tables wanted him fora partner. He coordinated these two facts by eating early,getting downstairs before anyone else, playing billiards byhimself for ten or fifteen minutes, and then, just before thefirst big scraping of chairs upstairs, seating himself at thebridge table where there was room for just three others. But,though I also watched him play bridge, we never spoke aboutanything except billiards.Undoubtedly, then, I would never have exchanged a singleword with the Master of Light if I had not been brought upin western Montana, where all my generation spent moretime in what were then called Card and Billiard Parlorsthan in school or at home. In the early part of this century theCard and Billiard Emporium was "the home away fromhome," and home was only where we ate and slept. Usually,the first table was the billiard table, because in Montanabilliards was thought of as the sport of the upper class andwas played only by the town's best barbers and the one vice-president of the bank. Then came three pool tables with deadcushions and concrete balls that hairy loggers hit so hard theyjumped off the tables. At the rear, enthroned by several stepsas at the Quadrangle Club, was the card room, in the centerof which was the poker table under an enormous green shade.In the glare of the circle of light were always two or threepoker players trying to look clumsy. They were housemen or "shills" waiting for some lumberjack to drop by who had justcashed his summer's check. If you were any good at cardsyourself, you could see it was hard work for them to lookclumsy.We high school players were pool players, although weshould like to have been billiard players if for no other reasonthan that each billiard player was so elite he had a womanbesides a wife, but we could rarely finance our aspirations. Itcost twenty-five cents an hour to play billiards, and only tencents a game for rotation pool and, as any high school rotation-pool player knows, it is no great trick, when the houseman is not looking, to sneak balls back on the table that havealready been sunk and thus to prolong the game.When I came to the University as a Graduate Assistant,then, I was just as good a billiard player as I had had sparetwenty-five cent pieces when I was in high school, and, stillaspiring to be better, I ate my lunch early to get downstairsand watch the club champion.Michelson was the best billiard player I have ever seen atthe University, and I think I have seen all the really goodones, including the barbers at the Reynolds Club. At first I wassomewhat embarrassed to see how good he was, because I didnot expect to find any academic type as good at a "manlysport" as the best we had in western Montana. But the more Ithought about it and the more I learned about Michelson, theless surprised I became. Before long, I comforted myself withthe question, "Why not? He's the best head-and-hands manin the world."So it wasn't just billiards I watched when I arrived earlyevery noon to watch Michelson play billiards. I came to watchhis hands. The year 1928 was still in an age whichcounted men who made machines among its marvels and tookfor granted that the rest of men could use tools and thatwomen could embroider beautifully. Edison still performedhis wonders, but the wonders of Bell and Edison were more orless household utilities. Michelson's head-and-hands mademachines almost godlike in properties, designed to tell us howit was with the universe. His favorite creation was his interferometer, with which, among other things, he (and later acollaborator, Edward Morley) had performed an experimentthat shook the old universe and gave Einstein a big pushtoward creating a new one with his theory of relativity.Before the Michelson-Morley experiment, the commonscientific assumption was that the universe consisted ofbodies of matter moving through and permeated by a substance that, although invisible, had somehow itself to bematerial. This substance at first was spelled "aether." SinceMichelson tended to believe that the major theories of theuniverse were already in and that accordingly the chief jobsleft to do were to measure what was sailing around in ether,his head and hands produced his interferometer which split alight wave, sending one half with the orbit of the earth andback again where it met the other half wave length that hadbeen sent on a return trip at right angles to the orbit of theearth. If there were ether out there (unless it were beingcarried along by the earth as if it were an envelope of theearth), the expectation was that when the two halves of the20light wave rejoined they would be "out of phase," since onehad held a course parallel to "the ether drift" and the otherhad crossed it at right angles and returned. The differencebetween the two half-light waves would indeed be small, butMichelson was sure he could measure it — and measure it hedid, again and again — only to conclude reluctantly that therewas no difference and that therefore there was no stationaryether "out there" and that light traveled at equal velocity inall directions.In 1928 we only crudely knew how these negative results ofthe Michelson-Morley experiment opened the universe to Einstein's theories of relativity and we had even vaguer notionsof the kind of machine that left Newtonian physics lying in aheap feebly struggling to get out from under its own ruins.I had heard, however, something about the interferometer,and, having worked ten or eleven summers in the ForestService and logging camps, I had enough feeling for tools tomake it hard for me to keep my mind solely on billiards. AfterMichelson would run ten or twelve billiards with a touch sodelicate that the three balls could always be covered by a hat,I found myself wondering instead how he had ever made amachine so delicate its finding would be invalid if it vibratedhalf a wave length of light, a whole wave length of light beingso small that it can't be seen by our most powerful microscope. A fancy, wide-angle billiard would also take my mindoff the game, because I knew just from the nature of theexperiment that the machine had to turn ninety degreeswithout vibration (in mercury, I later found) so that anychange in the pattern of the light waves could be observed.Perhaps the most American, air-conditioned question I keptasking was, "How the hell in the 1880s did he ever keep themachine in a temperature that probably couldn't vary a tenthof a degree?"You don't have to have a diagram of the interferometer torealize why it was Michelson's favorite creation or whyMichelson must have felt about his interferometer somethingof the way Galileo felt about his telescope:"O telescope, instrument of much knowledge, more preciousthan any sceptre! Is not he who holds thee in his hand madeking and lord of the works of God?"But even this poetical outpouring isn't as moving a tributeto a machine as the factual statement about the interferometermade by Arthur Stanley Eddington, the English astronomer;it is a machine, he said, that can detect "a lag of one-ten-thousand-billionth of a second in the arrival of a light wave."A master's handsNo wonder that before long the astronomers tried to enlistMichelson's hands in their service and succeeded. Dissatisfiedwith their own attempts, they urged him to give them the firstaccurate measurement of a star. For the first star ever to haveits diameter measured accurately he picked a big one with abig name a long way off — Betelgeuse, linear diameter240,000,000 miles (2,300 times larger than our sun) and 150light years from the earth. His hands were legendary long before I ever saw them.As legend, they were part fact and some fiction. For instance,I soon heard he was a fine violinist and a mini-Stradivariuswho made his own beautiful instruments, but I think the truthis that, while his Jewish father was out selling pick-handles toCalifornia gold miners, his Polish mother kept him indoors to"practice, practice, practice," with the result that he becamea fine violinist and, in his turn, spent half an hour beforegoing to his lab in passing on his love and skill to his daughters. The business, though, about his making violins was justa fictional tribute to his hands.It is a fact, however, that at the end of his first year atAnnapolis he stood at the top of his class in drawing and thatall his life he expressed himself by sketches and water colors.Often in late afternoons if you looked over the wall in frontof his beautiful home at 1220 East 58th Street Gust behind theRobie House) you could see him in the sunshine and shadowof his yard painting shadow and sunshine.Many of his last late afternoons in Chicago he spent eitherin his yard or at the Quadrangle Club. In those days, beforeso much of the Quadrangle Club was turned into an eatingplace, there was a beautiful chess room on the second floor,and on late afternoons his slightly stooped shoulders wereoften reflected in the dark and light squares of ingrainedwood. He had been good enough once to play the Americanchess champion, Frank James Marshall, who however wasnot overpowered by his unorthodox openings, as most of hisopponents were, and is supposed to have remarked that thephysicist's game was a little long on imagination and passion.He also had the reputation of having been a very goodtennis player, but I have no memory of ever seeing him play;perhaps at seventy-five he had quit the game, but supposedlyhe had been very good.It may not be so surprising as it first seems that he was not agood bridge player, although always wanting to be in thegame. It is hard to predict just where there is going to be a gapin somebody's genetic tape, and, before I ever heard the word"genetic," I was learning in the Quadrangle Club that a genecan be very narrow and not include what seems almost necessarily a part of it. For instance, Leonard Eugene Dickson, theoutstanding mathematician, who at the time was writing hisclassic works on the theory of numbers, was sometimes apoor card player. Anton J. Carlson was also not a goodbridge player, although he was nationally famous as an exponent of the scientific method in the biological sciences("Vat iss da evidence?"). In fact, there were quite a few cardplayers in western Montana who would have taken the moneyfrom the world-famous intellectuals who gathered atnoon in the card room of the Quadrangle Club in those days(and since).After watching Michelson play bridge for a while, youcould predict more or less the kind of mistake he would make,and it was not unrelated to the American champion's description of his chess game. He would make a bid short of game,but, after getting the bid, would see that, if he took and madetwo long finesses, he could come in with a little slam. Ofcourse, a little slam would make only a few points difference21since he hadn't bid it, but he would take the two finesses andnot only lose both but lose his bid on an absolutely "lay-downhand." He was a rather small man, as you know, and hewould look with almost childlike incredulity at the ruined remains of his daring invention of two long finesses where nonewas a sure thing.There may also have been a causal relation between hisshortcomings in bridge and chess. As the great head-and-hands scientist, the games that he was really good at involvedgreat skill with a cue, a violin bow, a paint brush or a racket,but chess and bridge required no gift of hands. This is just aguess. The University of Chicago had as yet no Nobel Prizewinners by the names of George Wells Beadle and JamesDewey Watson to decode the hodge-podge of genetic tapethat makes us one, or to explain why Michelson, who when itcame to games was a mini-Leonardo da Vinci, with a widespread of gifts, was not wanted as a bridge partner. It is easierto understand Carlson's case — we certainly don't think ofthere being much connection between animal experimentationand fifty-two cards and two jokers — and there wasn't.Dickson, the master of numbers, was sometimes expectedlybrilliant in a game where only 13x4 numbers were involved;his habitual troubles were at least partly environmental —he had come here by way of Texas. He almost consistentlyoverbid and, when he lost three or four hands in a row, hewould slam his cards down on the table and leave the cardroom in a rage, always denouncing Carlson on the way out.No matter who had misplayed — Carlson, Michelson, or himself — he always denounced Carlson. While the cards were stillshivering on the table, he would shout, "Why the hell,Carlson, don't you go back to your lab and feed your dogs?And don't let Irene Castle catch you killing any of them."Overbidding three or four hands in a row and then blamingthe great biologist seemed to put the great mathematician inthe right state of mind to race back to his office and resumehis classic studies on the theory of numbers.But be sure that Dickson or no one else ever even mentioned that Michelson did not play bridge well. Michelson wassomething like the other great University tradition we had inthose days (observed in these present days only by James Cateand me) — namely, that the University shield in the floor ofthe Reynolds Club, in front of the entrance to the cafeteria,should never be stepped on. No one wanted to play withMichelson, but he was Michelson, and no one ever stepped onhim and said he did not play bridge well.At seventy-five, though, he was still the best billiard playerin the club. He even looked like a billiard player. In fact, helooked like everything he did well — he looked like a violinist,a water colorist, a chess player and a physicist. And he stilllooked like an Annapolis-trained naval officer. At seventy-five, he was slight, trim and handsome. He was quietlydressed, with a high, stiff collar and a small, sharp mustache.He was small all over, and even his hands did not look particularly unusual. In fact, one of the fascinations of his handswas that they looked fairly ordinary. I suppose we are used tothinking of a master's hands as being long and powerful and"esthetic," but the hands of the greatest of all billiard players, Willie Hoppe, were not particularly unusual just tolook at, although those of his great rival, Jake Shaefer (theYounger), conformed to the picture in our minds and werelike long and powerful bridges. I had learned, though, whileworking in logging camps, that a man's hands don't alwaystell how good he is with them.Michelson was slightly stooped-shouldered (possibly fromage), and his small size and slight stoop made him fit the proportions of a billiard table when he was taking a shot, and,when he was standing, he looked as if he were leaning over hiscue to chalk it. With a shift of context, of course, the slightstoop and quiet elegance made him look like a violinist, apainter and a chess player.Like most of the very good "downtown players" at Ben-singer's, he seemed to shoot slowly, an obvious illusion if youkept track of the number of points he was making. It wouldbe more accurate, therefore, to say he shot steadily andrhythmically, only occasionally taking more time to study oneshot than another. Those who had seen him shoot in his primesaid he was best at three-cushion billiards and credited hisskill at this wide-angle game to his mastery of physics, butwhen I saw him play, his long game was his weakness,possibly because his eyesight was not so sharp as it had been.In 1928 what he was best at was getting the three balls closetogether and then "nursing" them — that is, making long runsby keeping the balls together with a soft, delicate stroke.When they slowly worked apart, he would bring them together again with a "position shot" that required an understanding of the angle each ball would take when it came off acushion, together with perfect control of the speed and hencethe distance each ball would travel. Speed and angles he hadunder his control. When I saw him play, he was essentially acontrol player.It would be non-scientific to describe him as a great billiardplayer but he was a very good amateur player. At seventy-five he could have played downtown at Bensinger's, and hewas the best billiard player in the history of the University. Isaw him run over forty several times, and it was not unusualfor him to put a string together of twenty or thirty; he had tostart with a tough "leave" if he didn't make five or ten.Once he handed me his cue and said, "Shoot a fewyourself." Considering my general confusion, I thought Idid pretty well. In fact, he said, "Not bad." Then he added,"But you use 'English' on too many of your shots." Englishcomes from putting a spin on the cue-ball by hitting it on oneside instead of the center so that it comes off the cushion oranother ball at an unusual angle. "Once in a while it isnecessary to use English," he said, "but it is hard to predictaccurately. Cue your ball in the center as often as you can.Don't use something hard to control unless you have to."Only this once did he hand me his cue and ask me to shoot,so once must have satisfied him that, although I wasn't goodenough to play with him, he could turn to me now and thenand lift an eyebrow.Often when he missed a shot, he stood silently studying thegreen cloth until (I think) he had reconstructed the precedingseries of shots and had decided where he had started to lose22control of the balls. Once he said when he missed a shot, "Iam getting old."Just he and I were present, so he said this to me or himself,but I had to let him know I heard it and I have always beenglad I did. I said, "No, no. It was a hard shot, but it was theone you should have taken, and you barely missed it.""Are you sure?" he asked.I said, "I am sure. The easy shot would have left the ballsspread all over the table. Any of the good players down atBensinger's would have played it the way you did, and a lot ofthem would have missed."Extended epigramI think that he was glad I had stopped him from blamingold age, but he was through for the day. He locked his cueinto the rack on the wall, and said, either to me or himself orthe wall, "Billiards is a good game."He made sure that his tie was in the center of his stiff collarbefore he added, "But billiards is not as good a game aspainting."He rolled down his sleeves and put on his coat. Elegant ashe was, he was a workman and took off his coat and rolled uphis sleeves when he played billiards. As he stood on the firststep between the billiard room and the card room, he added,"But painting is not as good a game as music."On the next and top step, he concluded, "But then music isnot as good a game as physics."As you can see, I have never forgotten this extendedepigram, but for many years I thought of it largely as anextended epigram and for some time I thought probably hehad shaped it for me, knowing vaguely that I was in Englishand should appreciate a literary construction that extendedacross the billiard room to the top of the stairs. As I grewolder and more detached from myself, however, I could seenothing in our relations that would have suggested to himwhat I intended to do with my life, so next I came to assumethat it was just a stylish remark he made to himself, becauseat seventy-five he was still very stylish — in appearance, dress,serenity, and slowness of movement that turned out not to beslowness but the shortest distance between two points, whichis one definition of grace.Always, though, I must have sensed that this extended epigram was more than a reflection of style, because, forty-fiveyears later, by which time I had several subjects I might havetalked about, I suddenly decided I would tell the AlumniCabinet about Michelson's comment on games. I also decidedit was time for me to clarify to myself what was missing to mebut I always knew was there, so I went over to the President'sArchives, got Michelson's file and read his most seriousscientific prose. Then, not long afterwards — but unfortunately not until after I gave my talk to the Alumni Cabinet —I discovered and read the humanly and scientifically perceptive biography of him by his youngest daughter. Youshould read it, too, if you wish to experience for a short timeMichelson's universe which moves in beauty playing games. Itis not a universe governed by morality or theology but by esthetics, mechanics, and gamesmanship, all shades of oneanother.In 1928, then, Michelson was not talking to the wall whenhe said, after missing a correct but hard shot: "Billiardsis a good game, but billiards is not as good a game aspainting, but painting is not as good a game as music, butthen music is not as good a game as physics."He was saying much the same thing many years earlier,only more formally, and more beautifully. In 1899, for instance, he began the Lowell Lectures on physics before hisBoston audience by speaking first of esthetics:If a poet could at the same time be a physicist, he might conveyto others the pleasure, the satisfaction, almost the reverence,which the subject inspires. The esthetic side of the subject is, Iconfess, by no means the least attractive to me. Especially is itsfascination felt in the branch which deals with light, and I hopethe day may be near when a Ruskin will be found equal to thedescription of the beauties of coloring, the exquisite graduations of light and shade, and the intricate wonders of symmetrical forms and combinations of forms which are encountered at every turn.In the games that were going on in the universe, the participants were not only the universe and those hoping tounderstand it, but even the machines that were made to helpthe understanding. Of one of his machines that Michelsoncould never quite master, he said:One comes to regard the machine as having a personality — I hadalmost said a feminine personality — requiring humoring,coaxing, cajoling — even threatening! But finally one realizesthat the personality is that of an alert and skillful player in anintricate but fascinating game — who will take immediate advantage of the mistakes of his opponent, who "springs" the mostdisconcerting surprises, who never leaves any result tochance — but who nevertheless plays fair — in strict accordancewith the rules of the game. These rules he knows and makes noallowance if you do not. When vow learn them and play accordingly, the game progresses as it should.Einstein left behind, not only a formulation of the universe, but a formulation of Michelson's delight in it. His telegram on the one-hundredth anniversary of Michelson'sbirthday began:I always think of Michelson as the artist in Science. Hisgreatest joy seemed to come from the beauty of the experimentitself, and the elegance of the method employed.Although I watched Michelson play billiards regularly atnoon for a few months before he retired from the University,I have the feeling now that he never came to know anythingabout me, except that I put English on too many of my shotsand so did not have perfect control of them.But I am certain that eventually I came to know somethingimportant about him, perhaps in part because I taught literature, and certainly in part because I was brought up in poolhalls and logging camps — he was an artist and played manygames well, especially those involving something like a cue, abrush, a bow, or, best of all, a box with slits and silveredmirrors. In that game he was playing with light and a star.23Challenge announcementhighlights Fund Board sessionTwo days in the life of an alumnusEmmett Dedmon (ab'39) outlinesterms of the Challenge.Irving S. BengelsdorfWe live in a time of crises. The front page of your dailynewspaper is a constant reminder of the population crisis, theurban crisis, the energy crisis, the political crisis, the militarycrisis, the economic crisis, the crime crisis. Name anyimportant human endeavor and there now is a crisis to match.To the early Chinese, however, with a long heritage ofpatience and survival, a crisis must not have been all bad. TheChinese ideogram or picture-word that stands for the word"crisis" is made up of two symbols — one means "danger,"and the other signifies "opportunity." So a crisis really is aIrving Bengelsdorf (sm'48, PhD '5 1), who returned to theMidway for this year's meeting of the National Alumni FundBoard, combines the credentials of a scientist with those of acommunicator. He is director of science communication ofCalifornia Institute of Technology, where he also is a lecturerin this field, and he writes a science news column, "Of Atomsand Men. "His doctorate at Chicago was in chemistry, underthe late Morris Kharasch. time of dangerous opportunity. And both danger andopportunity are components of the financial crisis now facedby the University of Chicago.Consider the danger.Speaking on the campus to about sixty alumni volunteers,who came from all over the country to attend a NationalAlumni Fund Board conference in April, Acting PresidentJohn T. Wilson revealed that the University now has anannual operating budget of about $210,000,000. Yet, in spiteof severe academic pruning, skimping, and conserving, therestill is a "deficit" or shortfall of $2,000,000. This spellsdouble trouble. For not only is the University now unable tomeet all its current expenses with current income, but, at thesame time, all costs continue to rise.Thus, for example, there are no funds to hire the new,young faculty members who provide the vitally neededinjections of intellectual leavening in the scholarly ferment ofan institution that prides itself on academic excellence.And Eugene F. Gerwe, vice-president for development,pointed out that although the goal of the Campaign forChicago, Phase II, is $280,000,000, only $90,000,000 hasListening attentively (left) are Gwendolyn Ritchie (ab'49) and Robert Picken (am'33). In discussion at social event is BelleGoldstritch (p1ib'34). Addressing a session of the board is John T. Wilson, acting president of the University.been contributed, thus far.But there also is an opportunity. The National AlumniFund Board members learned that alumni Robert O. Anderson and his wife, Barbara, have issued a $1,000,000challenge to University of Chicago alumni. If the number ofdollars that an alumnus gives in 1975 is greater than thenumber of dollars he or she gave in 1974, then the Andersonswill match the increase in the number of dollars. They willcontinue to do so up to a total of $1,000,000 of increasedalumni giving (see Page 2).Best of all, the potential $1,000,000 to be contributed bythe Andersons will be in unrestricted funds — precisely thekind of money that gives the University the greatest flexibilityin its operations. The extra $1,000,000 anticipated contributions from alumni is about equal to the interest the Universitycan earn from $18,000,000 in endowment.Obviously, to meet the Andersons' challenge, the NationalAlumni Fund Board members not only will have to seekdonors; they also will need help from volunteers from amongthe more than 80,000 University alumni. At the April meetingCarolyn S. Wilson, director of the Alumni Fund, and herstaff conducted a day of workshops devoted to a variety offund-raising topics, including the recruitment of volunteers.In addition to the various speakers at the workshops, thealumni heard a panel of four students describe life on theUniversity of Chicago campus today — athletic programs,activities in the dormitories, black student life, and theChicago Maroon. Many alumni — even those with greyinghair — recalled similar campus experiences in their studentdays and agreed with the old French expression: Plus cachange, plus c 'est la meme chose.Following the students' presentations, the alumni sampledcampus dormitory life by having lunch at WoodwardCommons. The luncheon was preceded by a reception at theapartment of Izaak and Pera Wirszup. Mr. Wirszup is professor of mathematics and is resident master of WoodwardCourt dormitory complex.But the highlight of the conference was a preview showingof a new film called A Very Special Kind of Person. If youliked A Very Special Place, the previously produced filmabout the University, then you also will enjoy this new movie,which deals with interviews of selected alumni. It is anexcellent production that features many prominent alumni,but specifically focuses on Paul Samuelson, professor ofeconomics at MIT and 1970 Nobel laureate in economics;George Steiner, a fellow at Churchill College, Cambridge;Katharine Graham, publisher of the Washington Post; SaulBellow, author and chairman of the Committee on SocialThought; and Edward Levi, former president of the University, now Attorney-General. Be sure to see the film when it isshown at one of your local alumni meetings. It is bothdelightful and inspirational.A good university needs a superb library, and the newJoseph Regenstein Library is superb in quality, in number ofvolumes (3,500,000) and in external architecture and internalapppointments. It was my first visit to the Regenstein Library(completed in 1971) and both the Alumni Fund Boardmembers and I were vastly impressed. If your future travel Attending session on student life are (from left) Sara Harris(as'41), Kenneth Leonard (ab'60, mba'66), Margaret Kahn(ab' 38, am'39) and Roger Bernhardt (ab'61).Applauding a presentation are (from left) Albert Meyer(sb'27, vhu'30), William Dunning (ab'58, and Marion DeLeo(sb'66).plans call for a nostalgic revisit to the Midway, be sure toleave enough time in your wanderings to browse throughRegenstein. It is a spiritually moving experience to see such anelegantly designed building devoted to both the efficientstorage and use of the world's accumulated knowledge.Capping the two-day conference was the final receptionand dinner hosted by Dr. Charles E. Oxnard, dean of theCollege. In a sparkling and witty after-dinner speech, DeanOxnard reminded the alumni that "the business of the university is discovery." But it takes money to explore the frontiersof human endeavor. And alumni can help with their contributions to keep the University of Chicago a very special kind ofplace that continues to graduate a very special kind of person.Engaging in a bit of nonsensical etymology, Dean Oxnardoffered his personal version of the origin of the word"alumnus." He suggested that the suffix "-nus" is derivedfrom the Latin verb nutrire, the infinitive meaning to feed orto give, while the prefix "alum-" refers to an astringentchemical that was a powerful drying agent. He concluded,therefore, that an alumnus is a person who gives until he isdry.The dean's etymology may have been comically contrived,but his message is clear: It is a time for giving — to the greatestUniversity we have.25Big year for Ted HaydonCarryover sport andthe Olympic GamesIt has been a big year for Ted Haydon, and next year may be abigger one. Mr. Haydon (ab'33, am'54) is a member of alongtime University of Chicago family, is a onetime Maroontrack captain, and is a sociologist who returned to sportstwenty-five years ago because it was less strenuous than thevariety of applied sociology he had been practicing. Associateprofessor of physical education and coach of Maroon varsitytrack teams, Ted Haydon is also the major domo of theUniversity of Chicago Track Club, an enterprise which hestarted in 1950, and which exemplifies much of the University's philosophy of athletics — and in the process has broughta considerable amount of fame and praise to the University.Ted Haydon is a quiet, matter-of-fact person, and he findssomewhat surprising the fact that some of the fame and praisehas begun to rub off on him:• He is being honored with a place in the newly establishedTrack Hall of Fame in Charleston, W. Va., for his work withthe track club. Installation festivities will be June 13 and 14.• And this is the year that he was awarded a special citation"for meritorious service to track and field" by the New YorkState Committee for the 1976 Olympic Games.• He was praised at the UCTC's twenty-fifth anniversarydinner by Ken Doherty, former coach at Michigan and nowdirector of the Penn Relays; Mr. Doherty described Ted Hay-don's program at Chicago as "the most significant work ofany track coach in the United States, and the most significantdevelopment in amateur sports in fifty years."• Quoted in an article on track at Chicago in the Wall StreetJournal, Bob Timmons, coach at the University of Kansasand a colleague of Mr. Haydon on the U.S. Olympic Committee, said, "What Ted has done, especially with his club, is simply marvelous. His is one of the few organizations thatoffer graduate athletics of all levels an opportunity to trainand compete." (Mr. Timmons, the Journal said, has recentlyformed a track club of his own in Lawrence, Kansas.)• An editorial in The Sporting News, referring to CoachHaydon as "one of the most respected track tutors in thenation," asserted that "what Chicago offers today comes alot closer to fulfilling the needs of its students and its community than do the ego-building monstrosities with whichmany schools are saddled."Ted Haydon' s program is based on the value of athleticparticipation to the individual, not only in his school days,and not only for the star performer, but through his adult lifeand for everyone who participates.In its report of a triangular meet opening this spring's outdoor track season, the Chicago Tribune noted, at the end ofthe third paragraph, that "no team scores were kept."(UCTC's opponents were Illinois and Notre Dame, and individuals from the Chicago organization came away with tenfirsts, thirteen seconds, seven thirds, sweeping the mile andfour-mile events.)The implication of the sentence, "No team scores werekept," is that the athletes who ran, vaulted, hurdled, jumpedand unloosed projectiles of various shapes and weights weretesting themselves in competition for the sheer fun and satisfaction of doing so. This is a correct implication.Since the athletes were competing for the sheer fun andsatisfaction of doing so, it was unnecessary to wave the flagfor old Chicago. (In AAU meets team scores are kept; in theCentral AAU indoor meet this spring the UCTC led its closestrival team by more than 100 points.)The club itself embodies another principle of athletics26which is of long standing at the University of Chicago — theprinciple that one benefit which can be found in athletics is itscarryover value. This value usually has been stressed bycoaches or players in tennis, golf, swimming and other sportswhich can be engaged in long after college days are past.Carryover sports, Coach Haydon is proving, include trackand field events.The club was founded, along lines well established inEurope and among European-Americans (and with the encouragement of the then-director of athletics, T. Nelson Met-calf), to permit continuing athletic activity on the part ofthose members of the University community who were ineligible for varsity sport — graduate students, alumni, facultymembers. Almost immediately its membership was broadened to extend the benefits of athletics — including carryover — to anyone who wanted to participate, whether or nothe or she had a tie to the University. In some cases this hashad a reverse effect — club members have become acquaintedwith the University and entered as students.The track club has also produced beneficial effects formembers of the varsity track squad, since the club operates aschedule of open meets almost weekly throughout the year,and although most club athletes may not perform in varsitymeets, varsity athletes keep sharp by performing in the club'sopen meets.Because of this heavy schedule, the club — with a membership somewhere between 150 and 200 — has attracted some renowned stars, as well as a lot of kids and some elderlyduffers. Rick Wohlhuter, a Notre Dame graduate who worksfor an insurance company in Chicago, was a fine runner butno record holder at South Bend. He joined UCTC because itwas "the only club around here," adding, "Actually, it's theonly club in the Midwest." Running for UCTC, he developedhis abilities; currently he holds the world records in the half-mile and 1,000-meter runs. He was one of four UCTCmembers to make the 1972 Olympic team (a fall canceled hischance of winning), and most track observers expect that hewill be a member of the American delegation to the 1976Olympics in Canada. Ken Sparks (left) and John Mock in a meet on the Stagg Fieldtrack. Both are members of the world record holding indoortwo-mile relay team, and Sparks is likewise part of the record-setting outdoor two-mile relay foursome.The club's indoor and outdoor two-mile relay teams arealso holders of world marks, and other contenders are amongthe whole new crop of club members who have been workingout on the Midway since 1972. (Readers of the magazine willrecall that Wohlhuter was chosen earlier this year to receivethe James E. Sullivan award, the highest honor in the worldwhich can be bestowed on an amateur athlete.)The perpetrator of all this activity came into sportsnaturally, as the result of dinner table conversations when hewas a child in Canada. A. Eustace Haydon (p1id'18), thepaterfamilias, who died this spring at 95, was a Baptistminister, but in his spare time he was a fearsome player of lacrosse, an exceedingly rough game. (The elder Haydon hadalso been a formidable rugby and hockey player and in hisown college days had been Canadian pole vault champion.)When the Haydons came to Chicago, the boys (in additionto keeping fit by returning each summer to a camp in Canada)A. Eustace HaydonA. Eustace Haydon (pIid'18), who died April 1 at 95 asthis article was in preparation, was, in addition to beingthe youthful Canadian athlete of long ago, and later theHaydon paterfamilias referred to in that article, an outstanding leader in the fields of humanism and comparative religion. Chairman of the University's Department of Comparative Religion for twenty-six years, hehad also been leader of the Chicago Ethical Society for adecade prior to his retirement in 1945. His major booksincluded Biography of the Gods, Quest of the Ages,Man 's Search for the Good Life, and Modern Trends inWorld Religion.27entered formal sport at U High. When he was a student in theUniversity Ted was chosen captain of the track team, andthough his hurdling and hammer throwing were good enoughto win in dual meets, his skill was never great enough to winhim top Big Ten laurels.His brothers are Harold (phB'30, am'31), professor in theUniversity's Department of Art and director of the MidwayStudios (and a onetime Big Ten vaulting champion), andBrownlee (ab'35) veteran Rand Corporation publishing executive, who has just rejoined the University as West Coastregional representative in the Campaign for Chicago.Ted's wife, nee Golde Ann Breslich (phB'30, am'31) isthe daughter of a onetime faculty member and one of amultiple-alumni family, and the Ted Haydons' son James(ab'70, mat'71) is likewise an alumnus.After graduation Ted got into Clifford Shaw's AreaProject in Chicago, where his colleagues included such otherbudding sociologists as the late Joseph Lohman (later to besheriff of Cook County) and the late Saul Alinsky, later wellknown as a leader in social reforms.Ted's career with the Area Project was a strenuous one, involving working with neighborhood gangs by night and compiling reports by day."I used to give fifty to sixty talks a year to PTAs, LionsClubs, and so forth. I'd come home late for supper with myfamily, and then go back out again to see contacts in neighborhoods," he recalls.Ultimately he developed a sort of battle fatigue, and hisdoctor urged him to take some time out for physical recreation. At Chicago his old coach, Ned Merriam, invited him towork out.Throwing the hammer was, comparatively speaking, veryrestful, and he began spending more time on the Midwayhelping Mr. Merriam run meets. In 1948, with Coach Merriam out because of illness, Ted took over the Maroon trackteam on a voluntary basis. Two years later, when CoachMerriam was retiring, he recommended that sociologistHaydon succeed him. Athletic Director Metcalf had onequestion: "If you come back here, you'll finish your28 master's, won't you, and then be off to some new job insociology?" Ted said no. He has never regretted the move.In his first year back at the University Ted founded UCTC,putting the fieldhouse to double duty in track, which, ofcourse, already competed for space with basketball, tennis,and other sports. (The fieldhouse, one of the first of itscapacity in the Big Ten, has steadily grown in use, to the pointwhere it is now badly overcrowded.)Ted runs the club out of his hip pocket, typing its correspondence, passing out track suits, writing fund raisingletters, recruiting meet officials. The club is self supporting,with a budget of $32,000 this year, up $10,000 from a yearago. Four-fifths of its expenses ($25,000 in the past year) goto travel expenses for the athletes — and at that they ordinarilypay part of their own costs."If Ted was paid double for overtime," says Director ofAthletics Wally Hass, "he would be a multimillionaire."Ted, at 63, still works out with his fellow club members,running and throwing the hammer. He still works seven daysa week, and, although under different circumstances, is still apracticing sociologist.Expressing a view similar to that voiced in these pages lastyear under the byline of one of his best runners, Lowell Paul,Ted Haydon says, "I've never thought that sports should beonly for the few who happen to have great talent. I get asmuch kick out of seeing a middle-aged fellow work himself upto the point where he doesn't finish last in one of our races asI do in seeing our relay teams set records in high-powered '<meets."And the healthy life is good for him:"I run so many meets, if I got nervous, I'd have beenflattened long ago. I manage to maintain a fair perspectiveabout my work, and I find it is actually healthier for me toshare in the whole job, setting hurdles as well as handling theadministrative end, than to worry about somebody else doingit. Busy as I might seem here, I still think it is child's playcompared to the schedule I followed when I was a socialworker."The University's fieldhouse, opened in 1931, cost$600,000 — avast sum in Depression days. But the field-house is no longer adequate for the throngs of studentswho use it.One vital part of the second phase of the Campaignfor Chicago is a $5,000,000 fund which will be used todouble the building's capacity. A new floor will be builtfourteen feet above the present ground floor. On thislevel will be facilities for varsity track, basketball,tennis, squash and handball, plus a grandstand seating1,500. The ground floor will be remodeled for fencing,wrestling, judo, etc., plus locker rooms. Bartlett Gymwill serve gymnastics, intramurals and miscellaneousrecreational sports.The fieldhouse rejuvenation is part of a tripartite planwhich also includes new swimming facilities and amodest locker building on Stagg Field.Two meanings of the New Deal: I. Depression and looming warThe New Deal at midpassage 1&Albert LepawskyOn the morning of May 23, 1939, a dozen men sat in conference at the U.S. Treasury in Washington, D. C. From theTreasury's colonial windows and across sycamore-laned EastExecutive Avenue, the White House gleamed in ante-bellumsplendor. Its spacious lawn had not yet been invaded by itseast wing, added three fateful years later to house the globalheadquarters of an isolationist nation suddenly plunged intoWorld War II. Washington's magnolias were still in flower,and the nation's tourists jammed their delightful capital,oblivious to the threats of foreign war and domestic recessionwhich dogged their New Deal under Franklin DelanoRoosevelt. Berated in the press but idolized by the public, thedebonair President was now in his seventh, and, according to political tradition so far unbroken, his next-to-last year inoffice.The lend-spend syndromeInside the Treasury the mood was not so cheerful. Thedozen New Dealers, steeped in conference in the office of theSecretary of the Treasury, were the members and advisers ofthe newly-appointed and much-worried Fiscal AdvisoryBoard. The Fiscal Board was the New Deal's latest piece ofmachinery designed to plan its way out of the current recession, last in the series of economic slumps which depressedthe entire decade of the 1930s. Presiding at the sober May 23,As today's generation of government planners struggles tofind a way out of economic and political malaise, it is instructive to consider how planners of an earlier generation attempted to handle similar problems. The accompanyingarticle is adapted from "The Dilemma of the New Deal, "introductory chapter of a forthcoming book by AlbertLepawsky (p!ib'27, p1id'31), professor of political science atthe University of California at Berkeley. Entitled Democracy's Arsenal: The New Deal in Peace and at War, Mr.Lepawsky 's study was facilitated by a research grant fromResources for the Future, Inc., and by the records collection of the National Archives, including the Franklin DelanoRoosevelt Presidential- Library at Hyde Park, New York.Rejecting the popular thesis that the New Deal of the 1930sand the Roosevelt war administration of the 1940s constitutedtwo distinct eras, Mr. Lepawsky finds them to be an integrated historical experience and concludes that the entireepoch, despite its flaws, provides a legacy of "rewardinglessons on how to cope with the challenges which continue toafflict our affluent society, as well as the rest of the expectantworld. "291939, meeting was the Fiscal Board's chairman, lean andfunereal Henry Morgenthau, Jr., who was the New Deal'sSecretary of the Treasury. Dubbed "Henry the Morgue" bythe ever jocular Roosevelt because each recurrent recessionleft him unhappier than the last, Morgenthau now lookedmore mournful than ever.Flanking Morgenthau were three other devoted, but lessdoleful, New Dealers who had also been drafted from highposts in the administration ex officio membership on thenew Fiscal Board. Senior of these was the portly FredericDelano, known throughout Washington as "Uncle Fred,"since that was the way his fond nephew nonchalantly addressed him in official communications from the WhiteHouse. Delano's principal assignment in the New Deal was tochair its National Planning Board, which was jointly involvedwith the Fiscal Advisory Board in trying to alleviate theeconomic crisis. According to the administration's harshestcritics, however, the Planning Board was simply an Americanversion of Communist Russia's odious GOSPLAN or StatePlanning Commission.The Fiscal Board's junior member was Harold Smith,director of the Bureau of the Budget. Although Smith hadonly recently been named to this high-ranking post in theRoosevelt administration, he readily demonstrated his capacity as custodian of the nation's tightening purse strings andslackening fiscal habits. Along with Delano's PlanningBoard, Smith's Budget Bureau constituted the main axis ofinfluence within the currently reorganized Executive Office ofthe President, the New Deal's alleged apparatus for"Presidential dictatorship."The most experienced member of the Fiscal Board wasMarriner Eccles, chairman of the Federal Reserve Board.Eccles was an accomplished financier, one of the rare American bankers who had successfully survived the Depression'scrash years of 1929-'32. Although he remained a loyaldevotee of the much criticized private banking system, Eccleswas branded as a radical and renegade among his fellowbankers because he advocated, as essential anti-recessionmeasures, the worst economic heresies of the Rooseveltadministration: heavy government borrowing, liberal publicspending, and deliberately unbalanced budgets.Lying before the harassed Fiscal Advisory Board on this23rd day of May, 1939, was a policy paper entitled "TheNeed for Action." Point No. 1 of this ominous documentwent at once to the heart of the nation's most vexing problem:The present business situation and prospects for the next twelvemonths point at best to only a small increase in employment in1940 over the present number. Therefore, the unemploymentproblem is not likely to be substantially different from what it isnow and not much better than it was in the summer of 1938.To be sure, this bleak prophecy would soon turn out to beerroneous as a result of the economic recovery which becameapparent after the middle of 1939. However, it typified thepessimism which still prevailed during the spring of that year,when few foresaw the impending events that would soonshatter the little tranquility left in the pre-war world of 1939 and would compel this nation to begin to mobilize its underemployed resources on an unprecedented scale.Fitful recoveryThe country's obsession with the employment problem atthe end of the 1930s was understandable. During the entiredecade, rampant unemployment had stigmatized the NewDeal's record and that of its parent Democratic party. Thejobless figure in 1939 still hovered around 10,000,000 out of atotal labor force of 55,000,000. In percentage terms, thisrepresented a rise in unemployment over the decade from 3%in 1929, opening year of the "Republican depression," to17% in 1939, seventh year of the "Roosevelt recession," ashocking figure, yet below the 1933 high of 25%. Admittedlythe New Deal's social and economic reforms of the 1930s,including its much debated "social security" legislation (originally termed "economic security"), had helped tothe moderate amount of recovery which had been achievedwas less a consequence of the Roosevelt administration'sbasic economic reforms than of its persistent reemploymentefforts, financed by worrisome budget deficits and ballooninggovernment borrowings.Condemned by the Republican opposition as wanton andwasteful "lending-spending," the Democratic policy ofdeficit finance was stoutly defended by New Deal planners asa form of "compensatory budgeting." This newfangled fiscalpractice had been partly adapted from the flexible Swedishmethod of budgetary management, but it mainly mirrored thegeneral system of economic planning advocated by Britain'sheterodox economist of that day, John Maynard Keynes.Staid Republicans preferred to call the American version ofKeynesian economics "the rubber budget," but Rooseveltshrewdly renamed it "the accordion budget." However, inthe predominantly business-minded press of the day, theRepublicans finally succeeded in plastering onto the New •Deal's unorthodox scheme of fiscal management its mostcritical and catchy label, "lend-spend.""Lending-spending" stuck to the New Deal because itaccurately reflected a significant historical fact: by 1939 theRoosevelt administration's lavish program of unemploymentrelief, public works, governmental lending, and recoveryspending, which now consumed a third of the total federalbudget, had begun to earn a measure of legitimacy. Not onlyadministration economists and planners, including those inattendance at the Fiscal Advisory Board meeting on May23, 1939, but some of the nation's most knowledgeablebusinessmen had come to accept these expenditure programsand fiscal practices as appropriate forms of economic policyand legitimate tools of budgetary management.In fact, some Republicans secretly envied their Democratic ¦'¦opponents for having appropriated the Keynesian brand ofeconomics, which their own party would itself sheepishlyembrace a third of a century later in the administration ofPresident Richard Milhous Nixon, of "We are all Keynesiansnow" fame.30However, in the earliest years of the New Deal, as far backas 1934, when the most painful days of the Depression werestill a fresh memory, and when the Democratic legerdemainof colossal public works expenditures and huge budgetdeficits first began to revive the economy, the ungratefulRepublican party blistered the New Deal for its "vast maze oftheorizing, meddling, directing, spending, lending, andborrowing."Nevertheless, as the 1930s came to a close after a half dozenyears of lending and spending, the New Deal was still embarrassed by the recession-prone economy. Recovery was perceptible but it was fitful, and the capricious trend of businesscontinued to trouble the Rooseveltian planners. Even as lateas the first quarter of 1939, the rudimentary economicindicators of that day, such as "factory output" or "familyincome," lagged behind their pre-Depression levels. Internationally as well as domestically, during this decade ofworldwide depression, the New Deal's record remainedblemished because the pace of economic recovery was conspicuously slower in this country than in other industrializednations.Most disappointing were the Roosevelt administration'sown home-grown recessions of 1933-'34 and 1934-'35, followed by the New Deal's severest slump, that of 1937-'38."Black Tuesday," October 19, 1937, saw a decline on thestock market as sinister as that of "Black Thursday,"October 24, 1929, which had ushered in the Great Depression.And as late as the first quarter of 1939, the recuperatingeconomy was still smarting from the repercussions of this1937-'38 "Roosevelt recession." The harried New Dealplanners began to wonder whether all they had accomplishedduring the 1930s was merely the substitution of their ownmulti-troughed series of truncated recessions for the one-shot, clean-cut cyclical depressions of the "prosperous"1920s.Conversion of a conservativeFortunately, out of their traumatic 1937 blunder, theplanners extracted their most rewarding lesson: they had mistakenly allowed their fiscally conservative and economicallyindecisive President to cut back their liberal lending andspending program too suddenly and too drastically. Roosevelt himself was immediately converted, and by 1939 he andhis stodgier advisers had become confirmed lender-spenders—except for a faltering few like Henry the Morgue.Still, at this relatively early stage of American Keynes-ianism, sharp differences continued to arise over the technicaldetails of the new fiscal process. Consequently, the New Dealplanning consensus rested uneasily on the shoulders of theFiscal Advisory Board at its May 23, 1939, meeting at theTreasury.Morgenthau, who had been reared in banking orthodoxyby the opulent Henry Morgenthau, Sr., was willing to indorsesome sort of lend-spend program providing he were assuredthis would raise profits as well as reduce unemployment andwould assist business as well as relieve the poor. Delano,despite a moneyed background similar to Morgenthau's, which included a banking affiliation with Eccles' Federal Reserve Board, was more liberally inclined toward fiscalplanning. Although he remained avuncularly silent during theanimated debates of the Fiscal Board, it was he who putbefore that body the "Need for Action" report, since theNational Planning Board, which he chaired, had originatedthis urgent policy paper.The Fiscal Board member willing to go farther with lend-spend and budget-unbalancing was Eccles, the New Deal'smost experienced banker and monetary manager. When hewas first summoned to Washington in 1933, Eccles was assigned to the Treasury as special assistant to the Secretary.But his financial ideas were far in advance of Morgenthau's,and Roosevelt reassigned him in 1934 to the Federal ReserveBoard, where he could regulate the flow of commercial creditand forestall any inadvisable credit crunch.Then, in 1936, partly on the Planning Board's insistencethat a longer-term program of capital investment andimprovement, public and private, was essential, a proposalemerged in New Deal circles for a more genuinely planning-conscious fiscal agency independent of both the Treasury andthe Reserve Board. Morgenthau was at first dubious aboutthis comprehensive program for economic and fiscal, as contrasted with sheer financial or monetary, controls. Whenestablishment of a separate fiscal body became imminent in1938, he was still inclined to the view that the new scheme"represented nothing that the Secretary of the Treasury oughtnot to do himself." Eccles, on the other hand, felt that theTreasury was fiscally too inexperienced to carry on these neweconomic planning functions.On the broader issues of fiscal administration and the basicquestions of economic planning, it was Budget DirectorHarold Smith, the Fiscal Board's least experienced member,who assumed the most advanced position. Although the May23, 1939, session was his first inter-agency policy meeting inthe New Deal family, Smith immediately grasped the significance of his new responsibilities as the nation's chiefbudgeteer and fiscal agent. In spite of his origins as a Michigan Republican, whose previous governmental experiencehad been restricted to the routines of state finance andmunicipal administration, Smith from the beginning functioned decisively as Roosevelt's right-hand man on federalbudget decisions and national fiscal policies. Concerning therelated and unresolved issues of economic planning, however,Smith seemed to be as puzzled as his fellow members on theFiscal Board. To his diary he confided on May 23, 1939:Secretary Morgenthau indicated that he was opposed to anyspending program that did not have as its background the solution of fundamental problems . . . Marriner Eccles seemed to bein a very pessimistic mood and several times commented that hethought that the situation would have to get much worse beforethe country could be convinced that there were such fundamental issues that had to be met in connection with the nationaleconomy ... I said in general that while I was new in the officialfamily that the conference seemed to confirm the fears I hadhad that there was no continuous economic planning in theGovernment . . . Eccles doubted the value of anything like long-term planning, although he is for planning of a fundamental31character. The conference ended in something of a sournote . . .Panaceas and palliativesDespite the New Deal's unfulfilled search for "fundamental" plans, the Fiscal Advisory Board's meeting was notas fruitless as Smith had painted it. For this, the board was indebted to its so-called alternate members. Although the alternates were expected to substitute for the regular members incase of absence, they attended the May 23 meeting in fullforce and stole the show. This was not surprising, for theywere among the New Deal's shrewdest brain trusters at thistime. Harry Dexter White, Lauchlin Currie, and BeardsleyRuml were typical of those provocative New Deal mindswho, regardless of rank, dominated much of the discoursethat went on inside the Roosevelt administration.Harry Dexter White, alternate to Secretary Henry Morgenthau, was director of monetary research in the Treasury, butthis did not adequately reflect his broader function asMorgenthau's chief lieutenant on all matters of internationalfinance. White was well-read in comparative economics andone of the first New Dealers to grasp Keynes' revolutionarytheories. During the 1930s he conducted the Treasury's technical and confidential conversations with the treasury expertsof France and Britain — including, as a matter of fact, Keyneshimself — on such crucial matters as dollar stabilization andinternational credits. As the decade neared its end, furthermore, White began to translate internationally the NewDeal's domestic lend-spend experience into its unpublicizedpre-war experiments with what later became wartime lend-lease, that is, U.S. military aid, to these lone Europeandemocracies in their sometimes sluggish preparations to resistthe rising tide of Nazism.White was destined to become the ranking New Dealer tobe tarbrushed with Communism during the era of Americanreaction unleashed after World War II; and this, despite theanomaly that it was he who, before the war's end, became theprincipal American architect, in collaboration with the by-then ennobled Lord Keynes himself, of the investmentbankers' dream, namely, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.Lauchlin Currie, Eccles' alternate on the Fiscal Board, wasone of Harvard University's ablest economic analysts in theearly 1930s. But he was too unorthodox for the academicBrahmins at Cambridge, and with the coming of the NewDeal he fled to Washington. Here he was welcomed with openarms and soon became the sparkplug of Eccles' staff at theFederal Reserve Board. Like Harry White, Currie was to findWashington uncongenial during the postwar reaction, and hemigrated to South America. But in 1938-'39 he was thefairest-haired economic planner in the New Deal, alreadyengaged in the task of drafting the administration's controversial Lend-Spend Bill for the fiscal year 1939-'40. Directlyafter the Fiscal Board meeting of May 23, 1939, moreover,Currie was appointed to the topside post in the new ExecutiveOffice, that of assistant to the President, where he served aschief White House staffer on economic affairs. Among the New Dealers, it was Currie above all who possessed that rarecombination of intellectual charm and economic persuasiveness which restrained Roosevelt, following his fiscal faux pasof 1937, from relapsing toward the balanced budget.The last of these three shrewd fiscaleers was BeardsleyRuml (p1id'17) who alternated for Delano on the FiscalBoard. Regularly employed as treasurer of Macy's giantdepartment store in New York City, Ruml moonlightedthroughout the New Deal as "adviser" to the National Planning Board. Even more than Eccles, Ruml was the Peck's BadBoy of American business, for he was always concocting .radically new fiscal proposals. Yet his ideas were often surprisingly workable, as in the case of the pay-as-you-go, salarydeduction income tax system, which was finally enactedduring the war years.Increasingly, businessmen in the 1930s had to take Rumlseriously because he not only held high vantage point inprivate enterprise, but his academic credentials were alsocompelling at a time when trained minds could no longer bescoffed at. In 193 1-'32, Ruml had served as the first dean ofthe pioneering Social Science Division at the University ofChicago, where some of the country's most innovativeplanning policies originated. Significantly, it was here thatJohn Maynard Keynes in June, 1931, presented his first .'American lectures linking his economic proposals for increased employment with his fiscal recommendations forrestimulating private investment.It was Ruml, in fact, who assumed the offensive in theFiscal Advisory Board's discussions of May 23, 1939. Although his ideas failed to impress Morgenthau, they didbeguile Delano; and they especially intrigued Eccles, whoseown education had not taken him beyond high school andwho had never read Keynes, even though he became one ofthis country's first advocates of Keynesian economics. Consequently, when Eccles and Ruml agreed on any particularaspect of the new and complex lend-spend process, as theynow did, they constituted a powerful duo within the Roosevelt administration.But they also became a perfect target for the opposition, tboth inside and outside the New Deal. On the previous day,May 22, 1939, the press corps had queried the conservativeMorgenthau about the varying recovery plans being bandied :about in administration circles. One newsman, hoping to provoke a public cock-fight inside the President's official family— not an infrequent spectacle among these pugnacious NewDealers — asked Morgenthau for his opinion of the deficitfinance measures favored by Eccles and Ruml. Touchy abouthis own fiscal orthodoxy, Morgenthau blurted out, "That's -:what makes horse races."This was typical of the doctrinal differences which thenflourished inside the New Deal. Roosevelt himself provoked :'such fraternal strife, since this was his pixyish way of ex- 3tracting his own most persuasive ideas from the disputatious •minds around him. '•The internal New Deal debate ran true to course at the following morning's Fiscal Advisory Board meeting of May 23. ;Here, alternate member Ruml warned Morgenthau and the ;'i32other members of the board that the various measures theywere contemplating were "mere palliatives," and he needledthem unmercifully about the urgency of "a real courageousprogram of some magnitude on the part of the Government."Specifically, what were the various "palliatives" proposedat the Fiscal Board meeting? In an appended section entitled"Proposals for Immediate Consideration," the PlanningBoard's "Need for Action" report, which lay before theFiscal Board, contained ten major proposals:1. More public works.2. Government financing of new railroad rolling-stock andequipment and additional public investment in other revenue-producing transportation facilities such as toll bridges,tunnels, and express highways.3. A national electrical network, not of mere regional scopelike the celebrated Tennessee Valley Authority, but anationwide power grid including complete rural electrification.4. Government guaranteed loans to revive American tradewith foreign countries.5. Tax deductions and adjustments to encourage privatespending and corporate investment.6. Increased governmental credits and financial aids forhousing construction.7. Easier government loans for the rehabilitation andmodernization of tenant and subsistence farms which hadbeen almost forgotten behind the backwash of New Dealagricultural programs favoring the larger staple-producingfarms.8. More sales of surplus farm products by extending theNew Deal's innovative "food-stamp" program for low-income families.9. Increased government aid for unemployed youth andwork-study programs for university students.10. Other novel lend-spend stimulants, such as large-scalegovernment borrowing from the New Deal's surprising fiscalbonanza of the late 1930s, its thriving Social Security Fund.Trying them allCollectively, these ten proposals represented a potent set of"palliatives" even for progressive New Dealers. Yet, severalof them were the same pharmaceuticals the planners had beentossing into and taking out of the New Deal medicine bagsince the early 1930s. Some had, in fact, already been triedout, with mixed results. What now seemed new was the factthat the whole batch was being prescribed together for thefiscal year 1939-'40.In the 1938-'39 Congressional debate on the administration's lend-spend bill for that year, Republican Charles Eatonof New Jersey had ghoulishly described how the original NewDealers "came flying into Washington from the four cornersof the country, like crows to a dead horse, strange amorphouscreatures, each seized and possessed with a different solutionfor every economic problem of the world."The simile was a cruel one, but insofar as the May 23 FiscalBoard meeting was concerned, it was fair to charge that the New Deal planners, facing the 1939-'40 fiscal year with thenational economy still ailing, or at least too slowly convalescing, behaved like a clinic of old-fashioned doctors. Individually they adhered to their pet nostrums and patent medicines, but collectively they remained undecided about thecorrect diagnosis and proper therapy for the lethargiceconomy as a whole. With no notion of priority nor any senseof proportion, they decided to endorse all ten of their proposed "palliatives."Nevertheless, the internal debate over this medley of reemployment plans and recovery policies did reveal one consensus within the New Deal insofar as its revised lend-spendprogram was concerned. This was foreshadowed in BudgetDirector Smith's previously quoted diary entry of May 23.The Fiscal Board meeting, he concluded, "ended in something of a sour note, but with a prescription to refine thememorandum in such shape that it would set forth theproblem, with some possible solution, so that it could behanded to the President for consideration."In sum, the proposed solution which was beginning toemerge was a more selective and newly-oriented fiscal program to revive the economy and restimulate employment.Public works construction on a large scale would continue,but this old work-horse of the New Deal was now to be superseded. The new and preferred means was to be the lending ofgovernment-guaranteed loans and the spending of government-appropriated funds for investments of a more sophisticated kind. These were to be mainly capital investments in,or capital inducements for, revenue-producing or "self-liquidating" enterprises. The projects involved could beeither public or private, but in any case, the new lend-spendprogram gave expression to a broader and bolder conceptionof "governmental investment" than the Roosevelt administration had heretofore undertaken. As spelled out in the May23 "Need for Action" report's appended proposals for employment and consumption, housing and education, thecomprehensive New Deal objective was now conceived to bean accelerated socio-economic development program emphasizing direct public investment and induced private investment in the nation's social and human resources and notsolely in its economic and material resources.Thus was the New Deal's 1939 version of the Welfare Statelinked to the Planned Economy. Although the Rooseveltadministration's planners had failed to agree on their exactpriorities, they did for the first time array all available proposals designed to achieve full employment of the nation'smanpower resources as well as its capital resources.Fiscally, this marked the inception of the "full-employment budget." Economically, it represented a broader andmore beneficent foray into national planning. The criticalRepublicans regarded it as merely another step toward theanathema of the Planned Society. But the hard-pressed NewDealers, who were compelled to plan and to act under theclouded economic conditions and risky political circumstances which prevailed in the spring of 1939, felt it was theonly feasible road to follow if the country was to attain amore equitable society as well as a more efficient economy.33Policy and stratesxNevertheless, the New Deal found itself in a serious quandary as it neared the end of Roosevelt's second term in thatcrucial spring of 1939. Whether merely to adopt a progressivesystem of fiscal management or to indulge in a more drastickind of economic planning was no longer the key question.The New Deal's dilemma now arose from political substratathat lay deeper than the unsolved problems of economics, unemployment, and overexpenditure. Even if the Rooseveltadministration had been able to resolve all its doubts concerning these pending economic and fiscal issues, the diehardRepublican opposition would not have been mollified athome, nor would the rising Hitlerian threat have relaxed itschallenge from abroad. Indeed, the staunchest New Dealersentertained a suspicion that these two threatening forces inthe history of their time — reaction at home and totalitarianism abroad — were inextricably linked.For Roosevelt, his most astute advisers, and an increasingnumber of informed American voters, the internationalvariety of reactionary dictatorship was the more immediatepossibility and the far greater menace. Europe was already ina state of alarm over Adolf Hitler's continuing acts of blackmail and brigandage against his neighbors. Austria had beenseized in March, 1938, and the Nazi rape of Czechoslovakiawas consummated in March, 1939. By now, the propheticPresident and his most foresighted counselors were certainabout the imminence of war in Europe — more certain, andalso more accurate in anticipating Hitler's next moves, thanwere the Republican or Democratic isolationists and theFrench or British appeasers.However, since the initiative lay with the aggressor, neitherRoosevelt nor his sagacious advisers could predict preciselywhen full-scale war would break out in Europe. The onlycourse open to them was to plan for American economic recovery either way — whether the world went to war orremained at peace.Under these exigencies, the role played by the planners wasclearly depicted by Marriner Eccles, Fiscal Advisory Boardand Federal Reserve Board member. He described vividly thechores which fell upon him and his colleagues during thewinter of 1938-'39 as they planned for fiscal year 1939-'40:Our immediate job was to help shape the new budget. We alsoformulated related proposals affecting taxes, capital expenditures by private sources, a flexible public works program thatcould be contracted and expanded according to economicneeds, the debt structure of all levels of government and thearmament program that was then under way [italics added].To many Americans in mid- 1939, spending and lending forarms production, whether for sale abroad or use at home, wasa shocking addition to the New Deal's fiscal and economicprogram. In fact, the Republican opposition protested thatthe Democratic administration was now waving the sword instead of the olive branch for the primary purpose of revivingindustry and restoring employment, an objective which, theyargued, the New Deal's economic policies and fiscal plans up to that time had miserably failed to accomplish.This charge that the New Dealers had now become thenation's warmongers was a mild 1939 version of the bitteraccusations concerning foreign policy that were soon to beflung at the Roosevelt administration as the drums of politicsbegan to beat louder in anticipation of the 1940 election.Preparations for the nominating conventions and otherpre-election party maneuvers were already under way in thespring of 1939. To many New Dealers and Democrats, theprognosis for the Presidential campaign, like the impending1939 economic picture, was on the gloomy side. In the mostrecent contest, the mid-term Congressional election ofNovember, 1938, the Republicans had made their biggestgains since the beginning of the New Deal. Earlier that year,moreover, the Republican opposition in Congress had combined with the anti-New Deal Democrats and had defeatedthe Roosevelt administration's first effort to enact its cherished executive reorganization plan, just as the samecoalition had thwarted the administration's attempt in 1937to "reorganize" the Supreme Court and "pack" it with thekind of justices who would uphold, instead of declaringunconstitutional, the New Deal's remedial legislation.Furthermore, Roosevelt's personal campaign in the 1938election to "purge" the Democratic party of its anti-NewDeal senators and congressmen had also backfired, and manylongstanding Democrats had retaliated by turning against theadministration. On the other hand, internationally-sensitiveRepublicans, who preferred Roosevelt's resolute foreignpolicy to their own party's appeasement tendency, weredrawn toward the New Deal in increasing numbers.Above all, the New Deal Democrats held the ace-in-the-hole for 1940. This was the prospect of a third term forFranklin Delano Roosevelt, the most popular Presidentialvote-gatherer in American history.Unprecedented in American politics, a third-term Presidency seemed only a remote possibility at the beginning of1939. But it grew to be a subject of constant speculation, andthe Republican leaders feared the worst. It was for them asordid specter which only the customarily talkative but nowsphinx-like Roosevelt could allay, but of course would not.For, he well knew that there was no more powerless chief-of-state in a crisis than a lame duck President. Under these circumstances, the best the frantic Republicans could do was toassume the initiative and attack the rumored third term as undemocratic, totalitarian, and absolute evidence that Roosevelt and his New Dealers, no less than Hitler and his Nazis,were bent on dictatorship.In pursuing their own schemes, the Democrats perceived acomparable Republican plot against the national security. Infact, some New Dealers went so far in linking the country'sdomestic plight with the foreign threat that they attributedboth to the conspiratorial reactionaries who purportedly ranthe Republican party. With this touch of innuendo, onestaunch New Dealer laid before the still strategizing Presidentan accusatory memorandum which may have contained somesemblance of the truth. It was unsigned and uninitialed, but itcould have been drafted by any one of a hundred brash brain34trusters of that day. In cold candor it portrayed as follows the"Crucial importance of 1940:"The next election may be a crucial one for democracy in thiscountry and in the world. If a reactionary candidate wins, hewould be likely to move further and further toward appeasement of dictators, repression of liberal programs, and denial ofcivil liberties. Even if present activities should cut unemployment from its present level of 10,000,000 to 9,000,000, thatmuch chronic unemployment is a severe argument against NewDeal economic policies. A vigorous new program already fullyunder way in 1940, increasing employment and stimulatingbusiness and profits, would be a powerful force for keeping theNew Deal in power.Economically, this frank and foreboding memorandumechoed Republican cliches, but politically it expressed theconfirmed New Dealer's caution that, although the immediate issue in 1939 was economic recovery, the pivotalproblem insofar as American democracy was concerned wasthe Presidential succession of 1940. This decisive challenge,which these New Deal Democrats conceived to be the menaceof victory by right-wing Republicans with a penchant forpolitical reactionaryism, helps to explain why they were sohesitant in their economic planning during the spring of 1939.They were, it is true, anxious to avoid the kind of fiscal misstep which might result in a recurrence of the 1937-'38 type ofeconomic recession. But what plagued these New Dealersmost in 1939 was the political possibility that any mistakenchoice among their alternative economic plans, or even anyslight miscalculation in timing their fiscal program, mightresult in a return of the Republicans to power in 1940.Moment of truthIn their dual role of political prophets and economicplanners, therefore, the New Deal brain trusters faced theMoment of Truth. Not only did they have to accurately predict and successfully direct the course of the economy for thefiscal year 1939-'40; they had to prevail politically in theforthcoming Presidential transition of 1940-'41. The plainfact was that 1939 might be their last chance, under Roosevelt's leadership or the Democratic party's aegis, to demonstrate whatever acumen they actually possessed as plannersand policy-makers. Consequently, the implicit strategy was,and the explicit tactic became, this: 1939 must be made themidpassage, not the finale, of the New Deal.It was a cunning scheme — providing it worked, which wasby no means certain at that time. For, as Roosevelt's secondterm neared its end, there was an almost universal expectationof, not to mention a fairly widespread invocation for, thedemise of the New Deal. Indeed, most American historianshave contended that the New Deal was already dead by 1939.Their position has been that either the New Deal had itself decided to give up the ghost, politically speaking, after it wasfor the first time chastised at the polls in November, 1938; orthat it had exhausted all of its innovative social and economicideas by 1939; or that it had, in effect, fulfilled its historicdomestic mission before 1940 and had become obsolescentinsofar as any unique world-wide or wartime role in the coming decade was concerned.The disciples of this "dead-by-wartime" historical schoolcite the cessation after 1939 of the New Deal's reform legislation, Congress' dismantling in the midst of the war ofcherished parts of the Rooseveltian bureaucracy (including itsfavored Planning Board, though not its planning function),and F.D.R.'s own famous wartime quip of December 28,1943, that "Dr. New Deal" had to be bolstered by "Dr.Win-the-War."Nevertheless, the historic fact is that the Roosevelt-runNew Deal did carry on through the war years for a third andfourth term — virtually until 1945 — thus embracing the fulldecade 1933-1943. In weighing the incantations and divinations which have been uttered about the life and death of"the New Deal," much depends of course on one's precisedefinition of this protean term. Insofar as the 1939 watershedwas concerned, the outbreak in that year of World War II didinitiate a fresh chapter in New Deal policy, in national life,and in world history. Nevertheless, to the extent that thisbreak in time was bridged by the tenacious Roosevelt administration, the 1939 interregnum, which supposedly marks theNew Deal's demise, also produces evidence of its resurrection.This enigma still gnaws at the heart of New Deal history.But for most of the Roosevelt administration's planners andbrain trusters, if not for its later historians and chroniclers,the mid-New Deal year of 1939 was clearly one of interlink,not interlude. At the time, the awesome challenge to valuesand institutions, here and abroad, defied easy analysis. Untilthe stark events actually unfolded, the epochal importance of1939 as the New Deal's central year and as part of the era oftransition to a transformed world was not yet apparent exceptto the sharpest observers of the day.Thus, May 23, 1939, the date of the Fiscal AdvisoryBoard's solemn opening meeting at the Treasury, was onlythree months and one week before the German invasion ofPoland on September 1 and the British and French declaration of war on September 3. Ten and a half months later, onJuly 17, 1940, Roosevelt's Presidential renomination occurred at the historic Chicago Democratic convention. But bythis date, the Nazis had conquered France and sequesteredEurope. And only three months and three weeks later, onNovember 5, 1940, when Roosevelt was reelected for his unprecedented third term, Hitler had already launched theBattle of Britain, presumably his final campaign before theU.S.A. was expected to consent or capitulate. Thirteen moremonths would elapse before the Japanese attack on PearlHarbor of December 7, 1941, finally catapulted this countryinto its formal declaration of war against the Fascist powers.In this kaleidoscope of historical circumstance, thedirection this nation would choose in 1939 and the shape theworld would assume after 1940 was perceptible only to thekeenest intellects of the day. And even among the most astuteof the New Dealers, only the most prescient possessed somevision of the future which, under these conditions of uncertainty, could be concretely planned or packaged in policy orpolitical terms.35Two meanings of the New Deal: 1. The nation and its futureMerriam's 'continuously planning society'Barry D. KarlBy 1943, when Congress angrily abolished the National Resources Planning Board — even trying to make certain thatmembers of its staff not be transferred to other departmentsof government — the idea of planning appeared to be dead.For years even the term would be avoided where generalpublic policy was concerned — and reserved only for strictlymilitary matters or, ultimately, foreign policy.Reflecting a public opinion exhausted with wartime controls and all too willing to see them as inevitable extensions ofNew Deal policy planning, Congress attacked as "communistic" virtually all discussion of the systematic management of public affairs — with one significant exception. Thecreation of the Council of Economic Advisers in 1946 quietlyabsorbed a large measure of the NRPB's function, but in amanner marking the acceptability of economics alone as thediscipline among the social sciences Congress was willing totouch with anything less than the proverbial ten-foot pole.Economics became the queen of the social sciences, the remaining intellectual pursuits to be invited in to dine, fromtime to time, even celebrated briefly by this or that programdesigned for the promotion of national defense or the wandering policy predilections of a particular Presidential personality — or his wife. But none of them has held the distinction given to academic economics.The change indicated, first, that there was no change,except in degree. The Employment Stabilization Act of 1931had called for economic planning with regard to employment// was in the development of the function of planning that theUniversity had its greatest impact on the New Deal, and onekey figure in this development was the then-chairman of theDepartment of Political Science, Charles E. Merriam, adviserto Presidents and twice candidate for Chicago's mayoralty.As the nation again confronts the staggering problems of itsfuture, the decade of existence of (under several names) anational planning body is receiving renewed attention. Thisarticle, adapted from a portion of Mr. Karl's analyticalbiography of Mr. Merriam (Charles E. Merriam and theStudy of Politics, University of Chicago Press, 1974), shedsmuch light on, to alter the context of the late Mr. Merriam'swords, the "credenda and miranda, " as well as the"morbidity and mortality" of the planning effort of the '30sand '40s. Mr. Karl (am'51) is professor in the Department ofHistory and the College. alone and had served as part of the initial legislative base ofthe NRPB. World War I had spurred the first interest in sucha federal endeavor, and the Depression had given it urgency.The Council of Economic Advisers moved the idea a stepfurther, but a baby step, given the time which had elapsed andthe undeniably momentous events in the historical intervalbetween 1931 and 1946.Secondly, however, the creation of the Council was agrudging, even fearful acknowledgement that some kind ofplanning was necessary, that a complex industrial societycould no longer be governed haphazardly and without thebenefit of the best available professional advice. Economistsmight be safer than political scientists (who might worryabout who voted and where), or sociologists (who wereknown to worry about equally sensitive problems), or physicists and chemists (who would fulfill anyone's direst predictions over the next two decades by emerging from their laboratories with voices raised and banners flying). Economistshad served American government and American industry welland with dignity; they would continue to do so.In fact, the protection of American planning from an approach specifically designated as "economic," let alone fromthe multitude of plans in dispute within economics itself, wasone of the chief purposes the board was intended to serve. Forplanning in the New Deal sense was to be "over-all"planning. The full range of ideas available within the socialsciences and the natural sciences was to be made available tothose whose political responsibility it was to plan for theAmerican future. At the same time, the administrativeorganization of the board, its attachment to the President aswell as its ties to state and local planning bodies, was intendedto preserve the independence of political responsibility fromthe vagaries and uncertainties of "expert" judgment.A backward look at the ten-year history of the NRPB, withits strengths and inherent weaknesses, might be instructive ifthe nation is now to consider a new attempt to undertakeseriously the function of planning.Charles Merriam's work for the New Deal began on 20July, 1933, with the naming of the National Planning Board.Speed in the planning and distribution of public works oncethe National Industrial Recovery Act went into effect was theproblem. The difficulty in arriving at priorities and criteria ofjudgment pressed on Secretary of the Interior Ickes, asadministrator of public works, the necessity of making decisions in the face only only of the demands of local com-36munities seeking federal funds but also of the urgency foremployment of work forces throughout the country.Ickes' sense of emergency had produced the entering wedgefor the development of a planning agency at the very topechelons of government, within the President's cabinet,where politics and administration met. The placing of theboard in that sensitive a position, together with the problemsof Ickes' personality, set the issues with which the boardwould have to contend.His first solution was an advisory board which he couldchair. He chose two men with Chicago backgrounds: hisfriend Charles Merriam and, to serve with him as vice-chairman, the President's uncle, Frederic A. Delano. WesleyC. Mitchell was appointed to the committee on the advice ofLouis Brownlow.In 1934 the board published the document which bore thetitle Final Report, summarizing its first year, on the eve of itstransformation from the National Planning Board into theNational Resources Committee. The depth of Merriam'sconcern shows clearly through the pages of what was, insignificant part, his own prose. The dilemma is clear enough,even over the familiar tone of Merriam's prophetic certitude.Planning was to be seen as a familiar ingredient in Americanhistory: Hamilton's Report on Manufactures, Albert Gallatinon internal improvements, Clay and the American system,and on through a litany of names which included TheodoreRoosevelt and Woodrow Wilson, as well as, of course, Herbert Hoover.But history was only half the story. Planning existed elsewhere in the world of 1933, and not in forms Americanswould find acceptable. The report lists "the systematic effortsof Japan, Russia, Italy, and more recently, of Germany."England and France are mentioned briefly, but the thrustof Merriam's argument is that American planning rests ondemocratic decentralization, on local and national freedom,on the absence of regimentation: "It is clear that an undertaking such as that now in process among the Soviets, theNazis, or the Fascists is not adapted either to the governmental organization of this country or to economic andtechnological conditions widely different from those foundthere."And he goes on to characterize American planning as"experimental, evolutionary, and at times undoubtedlysomewhat illogical . . ."To those who think only in terms of one or another set of'isms,' the American system appears socialistic or individualistic or confused and illogical, as the observer looks at one oranother phase of our national life."One opinion which Merriam and Mitchell shared from theoutset was that the board's effectiveness depended upon itsproximity to the President. Yet it can be suggested that thecloser the board got to the President as the nation's chiefpolitician, the better target it made for its political and administrative opposition. From 1933 until 1939 the planningboard existed under the uncomfortable protection of acabinet group which mediated its access to the President.Freed by the reorganizations of 1939 and 1940 and established Merriam at his desk at the University in the the newly created Executive Office of the President, theboard aroused congressional opposition sufficient to end it in1943.Over the decade of its operation, the board was to conformto none of the generally accepted historical analyses of theNew Deal. Its seventy or more major documents and studieseffectively complete the aims of Hoover's Recent SocialTrends although they go far beyond that seminal study incomprehensiveness and sophistication of method.Yet if the New Deal was benevolent pragmatism operatingwithout system or ideology, the planning board was systemand order committed to an articulate and articulated doctrineof welfare capitalism. If the New Deal sought to center inWashington the responsibility for maintaining a social andeconomic order, the planning board sought a rationalregionalization of the United States which would keep thewellsprings of planning in local communities responding tolocal needs.Some aspects of Merriam's view of the board are centralboth to the exposition of his own beliefs and to the historicalsignificance of his generation of "planners." Chief amongthem is his insistence that board members be private citizensappointed from outside the government and that they servepart time for limited compensation — that they not, in short,be part of a professional bureaucracy of planners.The proper power of a planning board, from Merriam'spoint of view, was not political power. The cabinet letter objecting to the original plan for an independent board statedthe confusion as clearly as it could be stated. "It would be inthe position of making plans of the most far reachingimportance without the responsibility for carrying out theseplans." That presumed defect was precisely the point. No37planning board, in Merriam's view, should have the responsibility for carrying out its plans. Yet that the board did nothave such responsibility would continue to be the problem.As the board's ideas developed larger intellectual constituencies and began to influence legislative programs, the linebetween a commitment to scientific ideas and the need toinfluence political programing became more difficult.Roosevelt's attitude toward the board was probably like hisattitude toward many of the other groups with which he dealt.He liked the board's personnel and found it an enormouslyuseful entree to a significant group of Americans whose advice he might use — the American academic community. Unlike the ad hoc arrangements made by later Presidents or thepiecemeal advisory agencies authorized by later Congresses,the planning board of the New Deal was an over-all planningagency, which sought to collect relevant social science andnatural science experts to make studies directly for, and giveadvice on programs directly to, the President. Still, Rooseveltwanted his own plans, and, like Merriam, he trusted his owndemocratic populism, no matter how mystical that may haveseemed to others. Also like Merriam, his trust of intellectualswas limited by a kind of public faith which was personal andreal.Throughout virtually its entire ten years, the planningboard was forced to occupy itself with two major sets ofproblems; the complex relation between them illustrates succinctly the planning dilemma in American government. Thefirst was, on the surface, the most obvious. The board hadbeen formed to gather data relevant to the planning of publicworks, to analyze that data in accordance with the best current methods, and to coordinate and propose programs. Thenature of public works — from roads to hydroelectric dams toschoolhouses and hospitals — indicates the potential breadthof the concept of public works and the mixture of natural andsocial planning which could be touched upon. The multitudeof reports turned out by the board are ample testimony to thethoroughness with which it did its job and to the success ofthe board in drawing on the best available data collectionsand methodology.The second set of problems involved the necessity of theboard's establishing its own continuing relationship with thegovernment, defining, as it went along, the role whichplanning would play in American government and, perhapsmore important, attempting to construct the administrativemechanisms for establishing that role as one of the federalgovernment's essential functions. It is in this second set ofproblems that Merriam's role is central, not because he wasnot involved in the specialized studies — the selection andoversight of the various technical committees whose functionit was to conduct the research and produce the reports —but because the establishment of a role for planning wascentral in his own view of his contribution to his times.The relation between the two sets of problems is important.The reports themselves are the planning board's lastingmemorial, in a way, for purposes of historiographical inquiry. Like Recent Social Trends, they are a remarkablesocial documentation of their times. But the board was ultimately abolished, a historical fact too obvious to beignored.As Hoover shrewdly predicted in his critique of New Dealplanning, the reports themselves would become clumsilyantique in their time, the "facts" made irrelevant by unpre-dicted innovations, the predictions made absurd by theemergence of new facts.But he touched the problem which Merriam's view ofplanning and his sense of the future of the board were tryingto resolve. The necessity of separating planning as a processfrom a judgment of the effectiveness of each plan wasessential to the attitude Merriam was trying to create. Whiletechnicians, committed to the plans they had worked out, andwhile governmental administrators, committed to studies ofefficiency and effectiveness, were understandably seekingtheir own standards for measuring the practicality ofplanning, Merriam kept searching for a more general conceptwhich would be consistent with his own experience in politicsand government. Such a concept would place much greateremphasis upon the process of planning — the fact that it wasgoing on at all and the coordination of the methods by whichit was carried on — than on fixed judgments about theefficiency of the plans.Roosevelt still continued to press to protect his board,although once the successful Reorganization Plan of 1939brought it out from under the relative protection of thecabinet, protection became more difficult.Delano sent a memorandum to the President on 1 July,1942, calling his attention to discussions which the board hadorganized with members from various relevant agencieswhich could be expected to have interests in the process ofdemobilization of the armed forces. He wanted Roosevelt toissue a memorandum asking for the opening of further discussion of the subject.Roosevelt was reluctant to do so. "This is a little like theproblem put up to me by the State Department," he replied."They want a full-fledged, publicized survey on post-warinternational, economic and other problems, and said thatthey had many people in and out of the government who are'rarin' to go.' " His chief concern was that "there will not beany post-war problems if we lose this war. This includes thedanger of diverting people's attention from the winning of thewar."He did, however, recognize the need for preparatory discussions and saw no harm in an unpublicized, off-the-recordexamination of the subject "but without any form of anofficial setup." He did not want a committee as such, he said,"but you might ask four or five people, in whom you haveconfidence, to work on this in their spare time." The informal Conference on Post- War Adjustment of Personnel,which Floyd Reeves chaired, was the result of the board'swork, and the GI Bill its ultimate product.Even that remarkable moment in 20th century educationalhistory was more or less an offshoot of a post-war planningprogram which came to be known as the "cradle to thegrave" plan. In implicit acknowledgment of what the New38Deal had left undone, that report faced issues of publiceducation, ecology, social security and welfare in a fashionconsiderably more sophisticated than many of the ideas acceptable in those areas today. Condemned by Congress asanother example of the New Deal's supposed evil, treated bythe news media as a Rooseveltian fourth-term ploy, andignored by the public, the report appeared to be a shadow ofGreat Britain's Beveridge report, even though it had beencompleted much before that plan and may even have servedas a model. Roosevelt had held it back for fear of the opposition it would arouse, and he was right.Judging by the succession of votes which ultimately killedthe board, a search for the cause can begin simply in theincreasingly conservative complexion of Congress after theelections of 1942. The rhetoric from congressional opponentslike Rankin of Mississippi and Smith of Ohio is obviousenough in its railing against the threat of communism,feudalism, totalitarianism, and the like; but this was nothingnew, though it would take on new forms in the years to come.What seems more striking in the debates is the general levelof ignorance of the meaning of planning, the functions of theboard, and, most important of all, the threat which a planning executive seemed to pose to a Congress seeking to reassert authority seemingly lost in the war. Even over andabove the hostilities to Roosevelt and the New Deal, the fearof an all powerful executive usurping the authority of thelegislative branch looms larger. What killed the NRPB wasthe same opposition that had hampered its activities all along.What that opposition had in 1943 was the margin for victoryit had lacked in previous battles. John Dewey saw the problem in his 1939 review of American social planning; but he did not see the New Deal's effortsas an occasion for celebration, let alone optimism. He articulated Merriam's basic insights much better than Merriamhad when he said that "an immense difference divides theplanned society from a continuously planning society. Theformer requires blueprints imposed from above and thereforeinvolving reliance upon physical and psychological force tosecure conformity to them. The latter means the release of intelligence through the widest form of cooperative give-and-take. The attempt to plan social organization without thefreest possible play of intelligence contradicts the very idea insocial planning. For the latter is an operative method ofactivity, not a predetermined set of final 'truths.' "Merriam could not have agreed more; but Dewey hadpraised Recent Social Trends and had become one of the NewDeal's most profound intellectual critics.President Ford's economic summitry has introduced him toonly one of the problems of expert dispute, and it may be allhe will ever see. One need not condemn economists oreconomic planning to point out that, even with all of the disputes, it represents only one spectrum of opinion in a rich andvaried range of speculation about planning and plans. Thereis an aspect of planning which Merriam and his generation ofNew Dealers shared with their leader, one which no amountof hard-core economic planning can reproduce. Theirplanning was full of hopes capable of transcending theoriesand dreams capable of confronting facts head on. They knewfailure to be their most productive teacher, not their enemy;and the only thing they feared was fear.^Alumni NewsClass notesf\T\ in memoriam: Julia Pierce Clark,VU ab 1900, Santa Barbara, Ca., died in anursing home in February, 1975.A 1 in memoriam: Noble Wiley Jones,VI md'01, retired physician and surgeon,former clinical professor of medicine at theUniversity of Oregon, died February 7 at hishome in Portland, Or.Ci'y in memoriam: Not previously notedV** in the magazine was the death inJanury, 1973, of Margaret Coulter Yarnelle,phB'02, Chicago.A-} Quest and Other Poems, a collectionVJ of verse by Roberta kohnhorstklemm, x'03, has been published by EchoPublishers, New York. A teacher in theLouisville, Ky. , public school system forseveral years, Mrs. Klemm has contributed tomagazines and newspapers and, togetherwith her son, edward g. klemm, jr., p!ib'32, has composed music that has been publishedin the U.S. and in Vienna. Mrs. Klemm isactive in civic affairs and is a member of theWoman's Club of Uouisville, a life memberof both the Filson Club and the NationalAssociation of American Composers andConductors, and a member of ASCAP.(\A in memoriam: Florence Cummings^t Hair, x'04, died earlier this year in aTryon, N.C., nursing home.Club eventssan francisco, June 6: Election and a galasocial event featuring a dance recital bythe Xoregos Performing Company. f\n in memoriam: Anne Sophie Davis,V I phB'07, in Chicago; Waunetah B. Kep-hart, phB'07, died July 25, 1974, in Chicago./\q in memoriam: Charles P. Schwartz,UO phB'08, jd'09, Chicago attorney andcivic leader, long involved in Universityactivities and a member of the CitizensBoard, died April 17 in Billings Hospital. Anative of Vilna, Poland, who came to theU.S. as a boy, Mr. Schwartz was activethroughout his career in projects promotingan understanding of American citizenshipresponsibilities. He was chairman of theIllinois Committee on Citizenship andNaturalization. A pioneer in the teaching ofEnglish to the foreign-born, he donated$100,000 to the University in 1968 forcitizenship education at all levels. He was afriend and lawyer to the late Jane Addamsand served as vice-president, trustee andcounsel of Hull House.rvQ in memoriam: Don F. Cameron,*Jy am'09, Angola, In., died December 18,1974; Arthur W. Hummel, Sr., ab'09, am'11,db'14, former Asian studies historian for theLibrary of Congress, died March 10.10 in memoriam: Earle B. Fowler,md'10, River Forest, II., retired39ophthalmologist, died March 23; FlorenceMary Lawson, pIib' 10, former University ofIllinois professor, holding a joint appointment in physical education for women andeducation, died May 19, 1974, in Durate, Ca.11 in memoriam: Viola Lewis Hart,-*¦ -1 PhB' 1 1 , Ossining, N.Y., died in July,1974; Merrill I. Schnebly, ab'11, jd'13,Champaign, II., retired attorney and professor emeritus of law at the University ofIllinois, died December 18, 1974.1 ^ in memoriam: The Reverend Ben Hill¦*¦¦" Cleaver, ab'12, Cape Girardeau, Mo.,died earlier this year.1 O nun kasai, p1ib'13, led the banzais for ¦•* -^ President Ford as Mr. Ford was leavinga businessmen's reception in Tokyo late memoriam: Winifred Miller Clark,phB'13; Jasper O. Hassler, sm'13, phD'15.1C ernest morris, PhB' 15, whom the1 J magazine last chronicled as he left theAppalachian Trail after hiking the southernmost 800 miles at eighty-three, stopping onlybecause it was getting late in the season, isnot one to give up easily. He is now back onthe Appalachian Trail, intent on finishing thehike (at eighty-six). He is shooting for MountKatahdin, in Maine, by early September.Kenilworth (II.) historian colleenbrowne kilner, p1ib'15, the subject of anarticle last fall in the Wilmette Life, wassingled out by Senator Charles percy(R-IL), ab'41, on December 17, 1974, asexemplifying "one aspect of America'sgreatness . . . the devotion many Americanshave to their own communities. . . . Noone," said Percy, "has contributed more ofher life, thought, and love to her own villagethan Colleen Kilner." Former Kenilworthresident Percy, with the unanimous consentof the Senate, then read the article into theCongressional Record. The article, byJoanne Prim Shade, recounts Mrs. Kilner'scurrent efforts in behalf of the Kilner Libraryof the Kenilworth Historical Society to compile a collection of the histories of Illinois'102 counties.Mrs. Kilner's career as village chroniclerbegan when she was asked to write "something special" for a Kenilworth UnionChurch bazaar. She got so caught up in theassignment that she has been involved inhistorical projects ever since.j r in memoriam: Ethel M. Davis, sb' 16,AO md'18, pediatric allergist and staffmember at Michael Reese Hospital, Chicago,died February 15; Lee Herman Kiel, sb'16,md'19, in February, 1974; Charles W.McCumber, x'16, Aurora, II., in July, 1974;Morgan Leslie Williams, am'16, db'17,Detroit, a Baptist minister who servedpastorates in Wisconsin, Ohio and Illinois,died February 1 1 .17 Mention in these pages of d. jeromefisher, sb'17, sm'20, phr>'22, prompted classmate Sidney m. weisman, sb'17, to setdown some of his experiences in a letterwhich Fisher has forwarded to the magazine.Weisman, chairman of the board of directorsof Century Properties, Los Angeles, acompany he organized in 1956, was one offour men who assisted Dr. Herman Lissauerin 1927 in founding the Modern Forum, Inc.,Los Angeles. He succeeded Lissauer asexecutive director of the group in 1958,serving until 1964, when he joined Robert M.Hutchins as a founding member of theCenter for the Study of DemocraticInstitutions in Santa Barbara. Winner of theUniversity handball championship in 1914,Weisman has continued playing handballthree times a week until quite recently, whenhe underwent an operation. He and his sonDick, winner of the world singles at theToronto World's Fair in 1967, composed theonly father and son team to play in thenationals. In 1973 Weisman and his partner(Jess Kirkpatrick, 1914 quarterback forIllinois) won the National Diamond DoublesChampionship in Seattle for players over 75.He and his wife, elsie linick wtisman, x'18,last year became the proud great-grandparents of twin granddaughters.A large surprise party was thrown inRichmond, Ky., last fall for ann kouteckykadlec, PhB' 17, on the occasion of hereightieth birthday. During the festivitieshighlights from Ms. Kadlec's life were recounted for the assembled. As a student, Ms.Kadlec did volunteer social work at theUniversity of Chicago Settlement and HullHouse. Following graduation she wasawarded a fellowship to study "WorkingWomen in the Packing Industry — theChicago Stockyards." As part of the project,she visited several Chicago packing plants toobserve working conditions and methods ofhiring help. Disturbed by some of herfindings, Ms. Kadlec dared one of the companies she had visited to hire her. The company took her up on the dare and made hertheir women's employment manager. Heroutstanding performance in that capacitywas once written up in Outlook, a currentevents magazine published in the twenties.Marriage to Dr. Frank Kadlec eventuallyended her career in industry, but not herinterest in people. She helped organize andconducted classes in English for the foreign-born in preparation for citizenship and then,after her husband's sudden death, became aschool teacher, serving for twenty-eight yearsuntil her memoriam: Mollie Neumann Grimes,phB' 17, for over forty years critic, editor andcolumnist on Rockford (II.) newspapers,died January 17; Florence M. Johnson,sb'17, East Chicago, In., died November 26,1974; Albert H. Miller, p1ib'17, principal ofSt. John's Lutheran School in La Grange(II.) for thirty-seven years, died February 19;Mary Andrea Johnson Smith, p1lb'17, diedFebruary 21 in Pontiac, william s. hedges, x' 18, retired¦*¦ O broadcasting executive living in Scars-dale, N.Y., has developed and assembled a broadcasting industry reference library. Thisunique collection, the result of a six-yearvoluntary effort on the part of Hedges, ishoused in the National Association ofBroadcasters' new building in Washington,D.C. Hedges began his career as a campuscorrespondent for the Chicago Daily News.Following service in World War I, he returned to the Daily News as head of the radiodepartment. He started Chicago radiostation WMAQ and by 1928 had establishedan experimental TV station — W9XAP. In1931, when NBC bought the station, Hedgeswas promoted to general manager of allstations owned and operated by NBC. Hehas been a leader in professional broadcasting groups as well as in the Rotary Clubof New memoriam: Ely Mayer Aaron, x'18;Alfred E. Jurist, sb'18, p1id'21.*y f\ CHARLES breasted, ab'20, in the**V course of a note to the AlumniAssociation, recalls the James Breastedfamily's several residences near the University in the days when University Avenue wasLexington Avenue, and recalls shifting hisbase of archeological operations to the newOriental Institute when it was built on the sitepreviously occupied by the Quadrangle Clubbefore that eminent institution moved to itspresent memoriam: Temple Burling, sb'20,md'22; Caroline I. Buttrick, sb'20; MariettaStevenson Livingston, am'20, p1id'26; JohnT. McNeill, pIld'20, Middlebury, Vt., churchhistorian, author and former professor ofEuropean Christianity at the University ofChicago Divinity School, died February 6 inChicago, where he had been visiting his son,William H. McNeill, ab'38, am'39, RobertA. Milliken distinguished service professorof history at the University; Edward Sherry,phB'20.^ 1 in memoriam: William T. Birch,^1 phB'21; Charles E. Burns, am'21;Howard R. Moore, sb'21, sm'22, p1ld'24;Arthur Schuh, sb'21, p!id'29; VincentSheean, x'21, American foreigncorrespondent and novelist who created anew genre of what he called "semibio-graphical political journalism" with thepublication of his Personal History, a studyof events that eventually led to World WarII, died March 16 in Arolo, Italy.'J'J in memoriam: Barbara Donner**£ Monteith, phB'22, AM'23,phD'33,former history professor at the University ofWisconsin-Oshkosh, died April 13, 1974, inSt. Petersburg, Fl. A memorial historyscholarship fund has been established in Ms.Monteith's honor. Contributions may besent to the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh Foundation, 800 Algorna Blvd.,Oshkosh.Wi. 54901.Marion Ruger Norcross Morriss, phB'22,Hamden, Ct., died September 26, 1974.Marshall Ney States, phx>'22, died August15,1 974, at the age of eighty-one.40^-J ANDREW C0RDIER, AM'23, Pho'26,"J distinguished educator and formerUnited Nations leader, spent several days atthree Ohio colleges (Walsh, Malone andMount Union) earlier this year discussingworld economic revolution, problems andtrends in higher education and the role of theUN in world events as the 1975 WilliamMcKinley visiting scholar. Cordier was theprincipal adviser to UN secretaries-generalfor sixteen years. After serving ten years asdean of the school of international affairs atColumbia University, he became president ofColumbia in 1969, retiring as presidentemeritus. In 1971-'73 he was chairman of theUN panel on a world university and then waschairman of its founding memoriam: Sarah Fahnestock Blossey,sm'23, December 31, 1974, in Venice, Fl.i^a in memoriam: Ernest R. Anderson,*™ md'24; Ruth Parker Lilien, p1ib'24;Mary Ely Lyman, pIvd'24; Lillian RuthWatkins, p1vb'24; Pearl Elizabeth Yost,p1ib'24,am'27.i^Z Leonard cardon, sb'25, md'29, retired"J from the faculty of NorthwesternUniversity medical school last year asassociate professor emeritus of medicine. Hejoined NU's faculty in memoriam: Alexander J. Isaacs, pfiB'25,am'26; Harry F. Meislahn, p1ib'25.")C NORMAN F. ARTERBURN, JD'26,"V Vincennes, In., has resigned as chiefjustice of the Indiana supreme court but willremain on the court as a justice. ' 'Therecomes a time when a fellow should slowdown some," he said in his letter of resignation to the Indiana governor. "Being chiefjustice of Indiana takes about twice as muchwork as I would normally do as a justice."Arterburn, who was retained on the supremecourt bench in the November elections, hasbeen chief justice for the past four years.Before that, the position was alternatedamong the justices. "In the twenty years Ihave been on the supreme court, I probablyhave been chief justice a third of the time,"he memoriam: Lee O. Yoder, sm'26, diedMarch 1 at the age of eighty-seven."jn EDWARD M. BERNSTEIN, PhB'27, a¦" ' former Treasury Department andInternational Monetary Fund official, washonored at a reception in IMF's Washingtonheadquarters late last year on the occasion ofhis seventieth birthday. Bernstein wasassociated with the University of NorthCarolina from 1935 to 1946, first as anassociate professor and then as a fullprofessor of economics. He was a key manin the U.S. Treasury during World War II.From 1940 to 1941 he was principaleconomist in the department's Division ofMonetary Research. From 1941 to 1946 heserved as assistant director of monetaryresearch and was a principal author of the1944 Brett on Woods Agreement that set up Wall to wallMike MuenchYou've seen all the scenes, seen all thepictures.Your excitement need never fade.But still I see you disappearingInto that unending parade.Soon I can't see you at all any more;Your face just turned into all the restAs your whole crowd disappears into thesubwayAnd you were shouting that you're doingyour best.You grow up and you have your children —Too soon your children's children have kids.And you're fighting for a brand newapartment.And you're trying to keep yourself hid.But soon everybody surrounds you —I said, "No, not me; I'm breaking out."I broke all the tubes and directions —I just got up and I walked out.Meanwhile, back in old Chicago,Where the people are all wall to wall,They're saying that they're leavingtomorrow.But I know they ain't leaving at all. But me, now I can look at the sunriseShining on the Gallows Cove bridge.And later I can look at the sunsetAs it settles over the ridge.But everybody isn't invitedTo break from their route and routine —To leave their big party to find the realpartySo far from the partying scene.But you — you've got plenty of excitementAs you speed on your way day by day.So I hope you won't mind if you look aroundand findThat I've gone the other way.But don't come migrating to the country —We don't need your congestion to spread.But me, now I'm gone from your city,And your city is gone from my head.But meanwhile, back in old Chicago,Where people are all wall to wall,You're saying that you're leavingtomorrow,But I know you're not leaving at all.Mr. Muench (AB'63), who taunts his hopelessly urban contemporaries (and others) inhis song, "Wall to Wall," follows his ownteaching. He spends half his time in St.Johns, Newfoundland, where he has beenoperating a small fleet of pinball machines,and the remainder in his house in GallowsCove, Witless Bay, Nfld. Here, amongother things, he operates a ham radiostation (VO 1 KE).He is the author of an article in lastDecember's QST, the ham radio magazine;the article, "Something for Nothing," suggests re-use of components salvaged fromdiscarded electronic gear."I make a point of working only enoughto make enough for what I need, " he writesof his pinball enterprise. He is thinking ofbecoming a commercial radiotelegrapher.Meanwhile Mike composes and sings."Wall to Wall," he says, can be sung to atune similar to "Will There Be Any FreightTrains in Heaven?" by Jimmy Rodgers. It sounds best on the guitar, he adds, in thekey of D."I've got nothing against people who likecities, ' ' Muench writes, ' 'but people whosay they don't like them, but who don'tleave them, get my goat. The point of thesong is to bug these people into realizingthat if they don 't want to be in a city, theyought to leave. "41the IMF and World Bank. After a year asassistant to the Secretary of the Treasury hebecame director of research for IMF, servingin that capacity for a number of years."Retired" since 1958, Bernstein currentlyheads his own consulting firm, E. M. B.Associates, in memoriam: Almedia Hamilton Bennett,phB'27; Brenta McGregor Coady, sm'27;Milton E. LaZerte, phD'27; Lemuel C.McGee, phD'27, md'30.^O in memoriam: Thomas P. Findley,¦"O Jr., md'28, Augusta, Ga., died October18, 1974; Frank M. Setzler, phB'28, headcurator of anthropology at the SmithsonianInstitution from 1937 to 1961, died February13 at his home in Culver, In.^Q ELBERT L. LITTLE, JR., SM'29, PhD'29,£*¦* Arlington, Va., has received an awardfrom the United States Department of Agriculture in recognition of forty years ofservice as a federal employee. Little has beenthe dendrologist, or tree identificationspecialist, of the Forest Service in Washington, D.C., since 1942. His latest book isTrees of Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands,Second memoriam: Brenda Druce McCarthy,sm'29; J. Stuart McNair, sm'29; David O.Rosbash, sb'29, p1id'32; Minnie T. Shores,phB'29; Richard M. Snodgrasse, pIib'29,am'44, pho'50.1A HELEN FEINSTEIN ZTMNAVODA, SB'30,*2V los Feliz, Ca., has retired from California State University, Los Angeles, whereshe has been a faculty member since 1956.An associate professor of Russian, she hastraveled frequently to the Soviet Union andregularly addresses educational and culturalgroups on her observations. She was a participant in the thirteenth annual International Congress of History and Philosophyof Science at Moscow University four yearsago and met with educators in Leningrad lastyear to discuss the possibility of studentexchanges.Wallace n. jamie, phB'30, director ofpublic relations for the Carnation Company,Los Angeles, retired earlier this year aftertwenty-seven years with the company. Hewill continue to represent the firm as aloaned executive to Los Angeles' Bicentennial Committee for the remainder of1975. Jamie received an alumni citation forpublic service from the University in memoriam: Grace Irwin, am'30; RobertS. Lamon, sb'30; Charles F. Lane, jd'30;Harold H. Tucker, phD'30; Eleanor Upton,PhD '30.31 HOWARD K. LARIMER, PhB'31, Sends-l the magazine, from his home in Shawano, Wi., where he has lived since 1934,reminiscences of growing up in Woodlawn,which, in his earlier years, was a place wheresome families kept chickens, where theiceman delivered his product in a horse-drawn wagon and lugged it up three flights of stairs, and where it was the task of the smallboy of the family to empty the pan intowhich the melting block in the iceboxdripped. He was one of the neighborhoodkids, Mr. Larimer recalls, who "did yeomanservice sidewalk-supervising the constructionof Rockefeller Chapel, with never a thoughtthat one day I would be graduated therein."One thing doesn't change. "Siberia," Mr.Larimer remembers, "has nothing tocompare with crossing the Midway on awindy winter morning or a roaring blizzardyevening."ALEXANDER F. HANDEL, PnB'31 , AM'50,executive director of the National Accreditation Council for Agencies Serving the Blindand Visually Handicapped, was honored bythe American Foundation for the Blind lastyear when he was given the 1974 Migel medalfor outstanding service in work for the memoriam: Mildred Winifred Benson,am'31, died in December, 1974.-1^ e. wtlsonlyon, phx>'32, Claremont,^^ Ca. , president emeritus of PomonaCollege, has received an honorary doctorateof humanities from Hamilton College,Clinton, N.Y. Lyon holds nine otherhonorary memoriam: The Reverend Harold A.Bosley, db'32, pftD'33.3 -3 HERMAN E. RJES, JR., AB'33, PhD'36,•^ J who in his undergraduate days wascaptain of the 1933 Big Ten tennis championsand also a member of both the University'sstring quartet and symphony, has returned tothe University as research associate, biology,after serving in '72, '73, and '74 as visitingprofessor in Kyoto University's Institute forChemical Research, where he worked withthe institute's 500kv liquid-helium-cooledelectron microscope on problems of cell-membrane structure and function.MARTIN D. KAMEN, SB'33, PhD'36,internationally famous biochemist whobegan his distinguished career with theco-discovery of Carbon-14, has joinedthe faculty of the University of SouthernCalifornia. Both Kamen, who spent thirteenyears as a dean and professor ofchemistry at the University of Californiaat San Diego, and his UCSD research staffmoved to USC at the beginning of the1974-'75 academic year. At USC Kamen,who received Chicago's alumni medal in1 973 , holds the faculty rank of professor ofchemistry, biochemistry and memoriam: John Howard Moore,phB'33, am'36; Edith Bach Norman, am'33;Stephen B. Straske, phB'33; Lyle S. Turner,phB'33.'J A ALICE FRANKLIN BROWNING, PllB'34,•5" is editor of Black Writers' News anddirector of the International Black Writers'Conference, an organization she foundedfive years ago for the promotion and protection of black writers. Members receive allIBWC literature, consideration of publi cation in Black Writers' News, a 10%discount in many bookstores and recordshops upon presentation of a membershipcard, group travel opportunities, plus admittance to the IBWC annual, anniversaryconference, this year's to be held June 20, 21and 22 at Chicago's McCormick Inn. Formembership information write to Ms.Browning at 4019 S. Vincennes Ave.,Chicago, II. 60653.ERNESTINE DUN A WAY BINGHAM PANNES,pIib'34, and her husband, hjxgard pannes,x'41 , are well into their fourth year as PeaceCorps volunteers in Western Samoa. Thecouple, who have been on the tropical SouthPacific island since November, 1971, areteaching their academic specialties in Apia,capital of the nation of 150,000 people. Sheis teaching psychology, child developmentand learning theory to students in thecountry's only teacher training college, andhe, mathematics at a public high memoriam: Dorothy Turner Pearse,phB'34, am'39, Falls Church, Va., retiredsupervisor of medical assistance for familyservices, the Department of Health, Education and Welfare, died February 2; HaroldX. Summers, phB'34, jd'35, mba'48, SilverSpring, Md., an administrative law judge forthe National Labor Relations Board, diedJanuary 18.-}C CLIFFORD G. MASSOTH, pllB'35, has-5 «? been named director of corporaterelations for the Illinois Central Gulf Railroad, headquartered in Chicago. The corporate relations department concentrates thecommunications effort of the railroad,handling public relations, employeecommunications, press relations, advertisingand suggestions. Massoth has spent his entireworking career with the railroad, starting asa sales representative calling on shippers inSioux City, la., and later in Omaha, Ne.After seven years in the traffic department,he moved to public relations, where hebecame editor of the Illinois CentralMagazine. In 1966 he was placed in charge ofthe department.ellmore c. Patterson, ab'35, boardchairman and chief executive officer of J. P.Morgan and Company and of its subsidiary,Morgan Guaranty Trust, was awarded inMarch the distinguished alumni award of theAlumni Association of the University'sGraduate School of Business. Mr. Patterson,captain of the 1934 Maroon football team, isa trustee of the memoriam: Paul Schubert, pho'35,professor, Yale Divinity School.3 £. james victor jones, pIib'36, executive•JV vice-president of Armstrong CorkCompany, Lancaster, Pa., has been elected adirector of American Stores Company.Robert s. whitlow, ab'36, New Canaan,Ct., has been named a senior vice-presidentof Commonwealth Oil Refining Company,Inc., New York. Whitlow joined the firm in1963 as general counsel and secretary andwas made a vice-president in 1970.42in memoriam: Robert L. Oshins, ab'36,died January 28 in Santa Barbara, Ca.*n Robert h. bethke, ab'37, is presidentJ ' and director of Discount Corporationof New York, a major dealer in U.S. Treasury and agency issues, negotiablecertificates of deposit, local public agencyissues and bankers' acceptances. Bethke,who joined the firm over thirty-five yearsago, specializes in money market analysis,trading and arbitraging. He is currentlychairman of the Securities Industry Association's government and federal agenciessecurities committee (which advises theTreasury on debt management) and is amember of the association's public financecouncil. The recipient of a UC alumnicitation in 1955 for his public serviceactivities, Bethke lives in North Castle, N.Y.,with his wife, Patricia davts bethke, ab' memoriam: Dorothy Dickins, pho'37,Greenwood, Ms., died January 18.-j n edward t. myers, sb'38, engineeringJ O editor of Modern Railroads, was recently cited for editorial achievement byAmerican Business Press, Inc., theassociation of specialized businesspublications, when he was awarded an ABPJesse H. Neal certificate of merit for "TheGreat Railroad Robbery," his analysis ofrailroad disinvestment which appeared in theSeptember, 1974, issue of Modern memoriam: Frances Tasker Lawlor,ab'38; Pauline A. Wilson, am'38.-1Q CHEVES WALLING, PhD, 39, dis-Js tinguished professor of chemistry atthe University of Utah, has been chosen aseditor of the Journal of the AmericanChemical Society, a post that is regarded asone of the most prestigious appointments inthe academic world in the field of chemistry.^A Villa Jones International Culturetv Center, operated in Mexico City for thepast two decades by Robert c. jones, x'40,has moved to new quarters in Oaxtepec,Morelos, a ninety-minute bus ride from thecapital. A shortage of funds led to the moveof the center, which over the years has servedvariously as a hostel, research center, orientation service and gathering place for theexchange of ideas. Visitors to Mexico arewelcome to come to the center in its newlocation, as have thousands of norteamer-icanos, Europeans and Mexicans in the past,to talk, to learn, perhaps to help in the work.A1 DOROTHEA COLE FERRTLL, SM'41 ,"¦*¦ Pueblo, Co., a high school home economics teacher until her retirement this yearand the mother of four grown children, hasbeen named Colorado Mother of 1975.John c gerber, p1vd'41 , director ofthe school of letters and chairman of the department of English at the University ofIowa, has received the executive committeeaward of the National Council of Teachersof memoriam: Albert Milzer, pho'41 , diedMarch 5 in Chicago. Chicago by the Bay II, held in San Francisco in January by the University of Chicago BayArea Club, brought together one well known faculty member and three outstanding alumniwho spoke at the sessions: (from left) Joseph J. Schwab (pIvb'30, sm'36, pho'38), the WilliamRainey Harper professor emeritus of natural sciences in the College, now a fellow at theCenter for the Study of Democratic Institutions; Karl H. Pribram (sb'39, md'41) neurosurgeon and medical researcher affiliated with the Stanford University Medical Center; CharlesD. O'Connell, vice-president and dean of students and associate professor in the HumanitiesCollegiate Division; and Luis W. Alvarez (sb'32, sm'34, pho'36), professor of physics at theUniversity of California at Berkeley and a Nobel laureate.Af\ Solving "The Indian Problem, " co-"•^ authored by Murray l. wax, sb'42,p1vd'59, professor and chairman of thesociology department at Washington University, St. Louis, has just been published byNew Viewpoints (a division of FranklinWatts). The volume is based on stories andfeature essays in the New York Times of thepast century, ranging from the Modoc Warto the Collier reorganization of federalIndian policies to the recent militant demonstrations.john f. fralick, sb'42, Grosse PointeWoods, Mi., has been promoted by theNational Bank of Detroit to first vice-president in the trust division.A*J RabbiALVTNI.KLEINERMAN, AB'43,"¦^ founding spiritual leader of the ParkSynagogue in Chicago, and his wife werehonored earlier this year at the synagogue'sIsrael bond banquet for their efforts inbehalf of aiding in the rebuilding of Israel'swar-dislocated economy through the Israelbond campaign, and for their outstandingleadership to the congregation and thecommunity. Rabbi Kleinerman served twoterms as president of the Chicago RabbinicalCouncil and is currently chairman of theexecutive committee of the memoriam: Madelaine J. Mershon,am'43, pIld'50; Caroline Baer Rose, am'43.^ ^ FAYE HORTON SAWYTER, AB'44, PhD'64,^t assistant professor of philosophy atIllinois Institute of Technology in Chicagofrom 1965 to 1971, has been reinstated to theposition of associate professor effective thisfall. In 1973 Sawyier, who was denied tenureand fired in 1971 , won a favorable decisionfrom the Department of Health, Educationand Welfare against IIT on charges of sexdiscrimination. HEW's clout at the time arose from the fact that it could hold upfederal funding destined for IIT if the situation were not corrected. Sawyier's 1971complaint was contested by IIT until earlythis year when the school decided to settlethe case out of court. In accepting IIT's reinstatement offer, Sawyier waived punitivedamages totaling $70,000 to $80,000. She is aformer president of the UC alumni memoriam: Robert S. Fiffer, ab'44,jd'47; Herta E. Klank, sb'44.AC ELAINE GROTEFELD DAVENPORT, AB'45,"•^ is currently coordinator of RadioTalking Book in Seattle, a broadcastingservice for the visually and physically handicapped. Part of a growing network of similarservices throughout the country, RadioTalking Book is a special, closed circuit FMtransmission which can be picked up only byspecially designed, small, high quality subchannel receivers which are provided toeligible persons. Current programing,which depends upon the services of volunteers, includes the reading of newspapers,consumer news, special news and announcements, recent magazines and recent books.The first Radio Talking Book programstarted in 1969. Ms. Davenport would beglad to correspond with alumni who areinterested in organizing similar programs.Her address: Library for the Blind andPhysically Handicapped, 811 Harrison St.,Seattle, Wa. memoriam: Gertrude Marie MandtCappetto,phB'45.a £¦ NICHOLAS J. MELAS, PhB'46, SB'48,4-U mba'50, a Chicago sanitarydistrict trustee for twelve years, has beenelected president of the nine-member board.Melas, vice-president of the board for fouryears, is chairman of the fourth ward regular43Democratic organization. He served in thelate 1950s as administrative assistant to twoCook County sheriffs. In 1961, Mayor Daleyappointed him city sealer, in charge ofChicago's Department of Weights andMeasures. He has served on the sanitary district board since memoriam: Milan E. McAllister, x'46;Richard W. Peltz, ab'46, am'49, pbx>53,chairman of the philosophy department atthe University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee anda former faculty member at the Universitiesof Illinois and Chicago and of Fresno StateCollege, died February 20 of cancer.AH Joseph minsky, phB'47, jd'51, and" ' TERRY YALE FEIERTAG, JD'66, havejoined with a practicing attorney, EugeneLichtenstein, to form a partnership under thename of Minsky, Lichtenstein & Feiertag,P.C. for the practice of law in Chicago.During the past year Minsky has been servingas chairman of the section on administrativelaw of the Illinois State Bar Association.Both Minsky and Feiertag in the past severalyears have been specializing in the area ofimmigration law and equal employmentopportunity litigation.WILLIAM hagerman knisely, phB'47,sb'50, vice-chancellor for health affairs at theUniversity of Texas, Austin, has received adistinguished alumnus award from theMedical University of South Carolina. Hewas named to the honor last fall at theFounder's Day Banquet, one of the principalevents of the school's year-long sesquicen-tennial observance of its founding. Prior togoing to Texas in 1970, Knisely was directorof the institute of biology and medicine atMichigan State University. He is currently acommissioner of the Navajo HealthAuthority and a consultant to the Office ofHealth Manpower Opportunity of theNational Institutes of memoriam: Carol Kohout Macpherson,ab'47; Laura Gang Wingate, am'47.AQ BARBARA DIETZ WINDER, AB'48, who"O was awarded a master's in fine arts inpoetry by the University of Massachusetts in1970, is currently an assistant professor andwriting specialist at Western ConnecticutState College, Danbury, Ct.RICHARD G. HEWLETT, am'48, pIld'52, andfrancis duncan, am'47, p1id'54, are theauthors of Nuclear Navy, 1946-1962,published recently by the University ofChicago Press ($12.50). The book is the storyof the development of the Navy's nuclear-powered fleet and of the man behind it,Adm. H. G. memoriam: Don T. Blackiston, am'48,phD'52, assistant executive director of theSouth East Chicago Commission and a pioneering Chicago urban sociologist, diedJanuary 6.AC\ donald r. mccoy, am'49, has been"^ named the university distinguishedprofessor of history at the University ofKansas, Lawrence. CA george o. wtlkins, am'50, has been-''-' promoted to manager of communications at the Carnation Company,Los Angeles. Wilkins joined Carnation in1961 . Earlier, he worked as a newspapermanin Joliet and Milwaukee.a. n. wtlkins, am'50, has produced histhird book of limericks, The LeonoreOvertures (Exposition Press). Title lyric:"Scandal spread like the ills of Pandora/Through Vienna's old local agora/WhenBeethoven started, /Once his friends haddeparted/Making overtures to Leonore."C 1 THALIA CHERONIS SELZ, AM' 51 , gave•* -l a reading before the Hellenic Professional Society of Illinois at the Sheraton-Chicago Hotel earlier this year. She read twoof her short stories and used them as illustrations of the creative process — what anauthor selects from reality to produce animaginative work. She has published anumber of short stories, travel articles, andessays on art in various periodicals, is one ofthe editors of a new little magazine, StoryQuarterly, and is teaching in writing workshops in the Chicago area.herb baum, am'51, vice-president ofmarketing for Naturipe Berry Growers, SanJose, Ca., a growers' cooperative involved inthe marketing of strawberries produced insouthern and central California, is serving aschairman for 1975 of the California Strawberry Advisory Board.BARBARA KIEFER LEWALSKI, AM'51, PflD'56,professor of English at Brown University,has won the nineteenth annual Explicatoraward for her book, Donne's "Anniversaries" and the Poetry of Praise: TheCreation of a Symbolic Mode (PrincetonUniversity Press). The work was chosen asthe best explication de texte in the field ofEnglish and American literature in thecontest which is sponsored annually by TheExplicator, a literary monthly edited atVirginia Commonwealth University. Amember of the Brown faculty since 1968,Lewalski spent the past academic year inLondon on sabbatical leave completing abook to be called Biblical Poetics and theSeventeenth-Century Religious Lyric.F. SHERWOOD ROWLAND, SM'51, PhD'52,professor of chemistry at the University ofCalifornia at Irvine, was, with his colleague,Mario J . Molina, one of the key figures inthe discovery in the past couple of years thatthe continually growing use of aerosols iswafting chemicals upward which, when theyrise to the stratosphere, will graduallydestroy the protective layer of ozone whichprotects earth dwellers from harmful ultraviolet radiation.The D. C. Dialect: How to Master the NewLanguage of Washington, a satire on the debasement of English in the nation's capital,co-authored by Paul morgan, am'51, waspublished jointly by Hopkinson and Blake(New York) and the New York UniversityPress in March of this year. In ten lessons (onhow to be obscure, pompous, evasive, unintelligible, etc.), laced with hundreds of examples taken from the Watergate hearings,newspaper pronouncements and the WhiteHouse transcripts, readers are told how theytoo can learn the "D.C. dialect" and rise toplaces of great influence in government.Morgan has also co-authored a play with hissister, The Pride of Noble Watkins, whichpremiered in February in Hermosa Beach,Ca.Chicago lawyer lowell myers, mba'51, Iwas the subject of a recent Chicago Tribunestory, by Peter Gorner, inspired by Myers'involvement in a bizarre courtroom dramathat has been called "unique in the annals ofAnglo-Saxon law" by the judge. Myers, whois totally deaf, is currently defending convicted murderer, Donald Lang, an illiteratedeaf-mute known as "the Dummy." In 1972Lang was sentenced to from fifteen to forty-five years in prison for murdering aprostitute in a hotel room. In February ofthis year the Illinois Appellate Court ruled |that Lang must have another trial. Myers isbelieved to be the only courtroom lawyer inthe country who is totally deaf and the onlylawyer in the Midwest who knows sign language. An expert tax attorney, he has workedfor a large Chicago corporation for twodecades. Most of his spare time is spent defending the deaf gratis. Myers, both ofwhose parents were deaf-mutes, began tolose his hearing when he was twelve. Sooncompletely deaf, he has become an expertlip reader and orator. In the courtroom hissister, Jean, who is not deaf, serves as hisears when he needs them. Sitting by his side,she silently mouths all the testimony to herbrother as it is given. Highlights in his campaign for the legal rights of the deaf includethe writing and pushing through of legislation that made the use of interpreters mandatory for deaf-mutes in U.S. courts;obtaining a court order requiring that aninterpreter be present when the deaf arequestioned by police (upon learning thepolice were slacking off, he slapped an actionagainst the Chicago police superintendent);writing a book for deaf children explainingtheir rights under law, as well as a definitivetextbook, The Law and the Deaf , used bylawyers and judges across the country; andfighting for a state law permitting the deaf todrive cars. When a legislative committeedecided the deaf were too "disabled," Myersinvestigated and found four committeemembers were alcoholics, three were myopic,and one was severely arthritic, yet all werelicensed drivers. When this information wascirculated in Springfield, the law suddenlysped into memoriam: Frank T. Bachmura, am'51,pItd'53; The Reverend Joseph Alfred Love,am'51.r*\ alvine. winder, PhD'52, is professor•J*-i of psychology at the University ofMassachusetts, Amherst. His most recentbooks are Adolescence: ContemporaryStudies (Van Nostrand, 1974) and, with DeeG. Appley, T-Groups and Therapy Groupsin a Changing Society (Jossey-Bass44Behavioral Science Series, 1973).barak rosenshine, ab'52, ab'60, am'62,professor of educational psychology at theUniversity of Illinois, is currently serving onthe research advisory board for a beginningteacher evaluation study being conducted bythe California Commission for TeacherPreparation and Licensing.C3 gerhard mueller, jd'53, is currentlyJ J working for the United Nations as headof the crime prevention and criminal justicesection.g. allan julin, jr., mba'53, has retiredfrom his dual position as executive vice-president of Chicago Title Insurance Company and senior vice-president of its parent,Chicago Title & Trust memoriam: Richard Joseph DeHaan,ab'53, died February 18 in Storrs, Ct.CA MEYER J. wolin, pIid'54, left theJ^ University of Illinois last year, wherehe headed the dairy science department ofthe college of agriculture, to assume the position of chief research scientist in environmental biology at the environmentalhealth center of the New York state department of health in Albany.c c john d. lyon, ab'55, formerly vice-•J •* president/general counsel of the OilShale Corporation, Los Angeles, has beennamed executive vice-president in charge ofthe firm's new petroleum samuel b. horowitz, pho'56, has beenJV named by the Michigan Cancer Foundation to the chairmanship of the biologydepartment, following a reorganization ofthe foundation's scientific research program.Horowitz, who also holds an appointment asadjunct professor in the department ofbiology at Wayne State University, joinedthe foundation in 1972 as chief of the cellphysiology laboratory, department ofbiology.CO seymour m.hersh.ab' 5 8, the Pulitzer•¦^O prize-winning journalist who broke thefirst details of the My Lai massacre, is currently chief investigative reporter in Washington for the New York Times and hascovered the Paris peace talks and prisoner-of-war stories for that paper. Hersh was aPentagon correspondent for the AssociatedPress, a police reporter for United PressInternational and the City News Bureau, andhas written for the New Yorker, Harper's,Ramparts and the New Republic. His booksinclude My Lai 4 and Cover-Up, bothdealing with the My Lai incident and thearmy's investigation of it, and an earlierwork, Chemical and Biological Warfare.CA charlotte adelman, ab'59, jd'62,•^ partner in the Chicago law firm ofDidzerekis, Hochf elder & Adelman, chairedan all-day public hearing, held in March inChicago, on the difficulty women encountercollecting child support. The conference was co-sponsored by the Illinois Commission onthe Status of Women and the Loop CenterYWCA. On March 20, the Illinois Fair Employment Practices commission issued itsfirst ruling on the question of job discrimination against mothers. The ruling affirmeda hearing examiner's finding in Simon v.East Maine School District 63 of sex discrimination for the school district's refusal tohire as a teacher Ms. Adelman's client, amother of one child who was pregnant withanother. The commission ordered the schooldistrict to hire the complainant and grantedher back pay and benefits.john r. tooley, sm'59, formerly managerof the communications systems branch ofTexas Instruments' digital systems division inHouston, Tx., was named dean of the schoolof engineering, effective April 1 , at theUniversity of Evansville, In. In his sixteenyears with Texas Instruments, Tooleyworked on numerous assignments, includingevaluation of new solid state devices for usein advanced communications systems andmanagement of a NASA project for designof telecommunications equipment for theMars- Venus Voyager spacecraft.martin kozak, ab'59, Evanston, has beenappointed by the Department of Health,Education and Welfare to the position ofassistant regional health administrator formanagement support in the Chicago regionaloffice of the Public Health Service.ATTYE BELLE TRUESDALE MCGEE, AM'59, hasbeen named "teacher of the visuallyimpaired of the year" by the Illinois Officeof Education. Ms. McGee, who has servedthe Chicago public school system as a primary teacher, a music teacher, a teacher ofmentally retarded children and as a readingconsultant to the Board of Education, currently works with ten partially sightedchildren at the Douglas Elementary School.Her husband, henry mcgee, am'61, formerpostmaster of Chicago, is a recentlyappointed member of the Chicago schoolboard.Ein Hashimoto, am'59, who studied underthe eminent harpsichordist Ralph Kirk-patrick, is currently associate professor andharpsichordist-in-residence at the collegeconservatory of music, University ofCincinnati./^f\ ORACE JOHNSON, mba'60, pIld'66, isV^J completing his first year on the facultyof the University of Illinois. Formerly atOhio State University, Johnson joinedIllinois last fall as a professor in accountancy.BEATRICE CARPENTER YOUNG, AB'60,mat'64, has been named chief of the trainingand technical assistance unit for the Chicagoregional office of ACTION. She had beenworking as a training expert/consultant forthe federal volunteer agency. Ms. Young hasserved the Illinois Commission on HumanRelations as education director (1965-'70)and executive director (1970-'73), and hasheld teaching positions with NortheasternIllinois University, Thornton Township High School (Harvey, II.) and the Chicago PublicSchools. She is currently a doctoralcandidate in education at the University memoriam: Richard W. DeKorte, jd'60;Grazina M. Musteikis, sm'60./T1 JAMES H. ANDREWS, am'61, Pho'73, hasV J- received a major appointment on thestaff of Illinois House Speaker WilliamRedmond. The Ohio State University facultymember was named in February as Redmond's research director to coordinate thestaff work of the House committees andsupervise the work of the staff budgetanalysts and interns. Andrews was a legislative staff intern for the Illinois GeneralAssembly from 1961 to 1962./^\ robin bogeaus seidenberg, ab'62,"•" am'63, surprised many people inGrayslake, II., when she ran for election asvillage trustee in 1973; it was the first time inthe seventy-eight year history of the villagethat a woman had sought the post. (She lostby twenty-three votes out of 1 ,500 cast.) Hername was in the local newspapers again in1974 when she was appointed to the Grayslake Plan Commission and, subsequently, tothe Zoning Board of Appeals. No womanhad ever served in either post before.Seidenberg made local history again thisspring when she was successful in her new bidfor the office of village trustee. Aside fromher duties as a public official, serving an unofficial village "gadfly," running an antiquebusiness, serving as Democratic county co-chairwoman, taking care of her five-year-old son and her veterinarian husband,Seidenberg leads the life, as she puts it, of"your typical, run-of-the-mill, unemployedcollege French teacher."syy edgar a. hubin, am'63, has beenVJ appointed personnel officer for theU.S. Department of Commerce ResearchLaboratories at Boulder, Co. Prior to thisappointment, he had been chief of management-employee relations at Boulder for sevenyears, following personnel work with theArmy in St. Louis and the Justice Department in Sandstone, Mn."For the Dead Children of Auschwitz," asong by edmund dehnert, p1td'63,Evanston, II., was formally received by theMuseum of Auschwitz, Oswiecim, Poland,as part of its permanent collection in Marchof this year. Dehnert spent eight weeks at theJagiellonian University of Krakow lastsummer, working under a grant from theU.S. Office of Education. He chaired thetask force on Polish music which researchedand produced eight videotapes on Polishhistory and culture for use in U.S. colleges.The song was written as an expression of thecomposer's reaction to the horror of the concentration camp, seen even thirty years later.Dehnert is currently on leave as head of thedepartment of humanities, art, and foreignlanguages at Mayfair College (City Collegesof Chicago).45george t. duncan, sb'63, sm'64, is now anassociate professor of statistics at Carnegie-Mellon University in Pittsburgh. Previouslyhe served as a Peace Corps volunteer in thePhilippines, received his doctorate from theUniversity of Minnesota, and taught at theUniversity of California, Davis. He and hiswife, Mary, have two children, Christina andGregory.CHARLES manaster ii, ab'63, mba'66, iscurrently an investment officer and assistanttreasurer of the State Mutual Life AssuranceCompany of America, Worcester, Ma. Aresident of Northboro, Ma., Manaster hastwo daughters, one 6, the other 2.CA Mindy, a book for the younger reader*s* by vicky shiefman, ab'64, New York,has been published by Macmillan.ronald h. Silverman, jd'64, an associateprofessor of law at Syracuse (N.Y.) University, has been named associate dean of thecollege of law.CC Symbolic Domination: Cultural FormV-J and Historical Change in Morocco, thefirst book by paul rabinow, ab'65, am'67,pIid'70, associate professor of anthropologyat Richmond College of the City Universityof New York, has been published by theUniversity of Chicago Press.rr James f. de jong, am'66, Shakopee,OO Mn., writes that he completed hisdoctorate in higher education and foreignlanguage education and research at theUniversity of Minnesota. His dissertationwas entitled "An Analysis of Modern Language Curriculums in Minnesota CommunityColleges." in memoriam: S. Shamimuddin Ahmad,phD'66, died September 29, 1974.f~n thomas v. busse, pho'67, professor" ' and head of the department of educational psychology at Temple University,Philadelphia, was senior author of Activitiesin Child and Adolescent Development,published last year by Harper & Row.DOUGLAS G. GREENE, AM'67, PhD'72,assistant professor of history at OldDominion University (Norfolk, Va.), haspublished an introduction to The Earl ofCastlehaven 's Memoirs of the Irish Wars(Delmar, N.Y.: Scholars' Facsimiles & Reprints), and his book, W. W. Denslow, wasscheduled to be published this spring by theCentral Michigan University Press.larry steinhauer, am'67, becameassistant professor of economics andbusiness administration at Albion (Mi.)College last fall.CX\ TERRY SPIELMAN PETERS, AB'69, isVy presently a planner in ArlingtonCounty, Va. Ms. Peters, who holds amaster's degree in urban affairs fromVirginia Polytechnic Institute and StateUniversity (1974), has authored a book basedon her graduate research. Entitled ThePolitics and Administration of Land UseControl: The Case of Fairfax County, Virginia, the work was published recently byLexington Books.ANTOINETTE KIUPELIS MYERS, AB'69, whowas recently awarded a doctorate at the NewSchool for Social Research in New York, isnow an assistant professor of psychology atthe State University of New York at NewPaltz. n*} RENI-ZOEMANDELLZrVTN, PhD'73, is' J working as an intern at the AmericanCouncil on Education, Office of Women inHigher Education, in Washington, D.C., ona fellowship program sponsored by the University Council for Educational Administration.edna selan epstein, jd'73, an assistantstate's attorney in Chicago, has taken over ashead of a city unit of five female assistantstate's attorneys responsible for the preliminary stages of rape case prosecutions.Ms. Epstein, appointed to the new post byState's Attorney Bernard Carey whose officehas been criticized for its handling of rapecases, said the unit may eventually expandand include men.DEENA RUTH ROSENBERG, AB'73, a doctoralstudent in musicology at the City Universityof New York, has been awarded a grant bythe National Endowment for the Humanitiesin support of her research project entitled,"Ira Gershwin, Song-Lyricist." In announcing the grant, NEH noted that the extensive archives of Ira Gershwin, containingmaterials by or about himself and hisbrother, George Gershwin — includingdiaries, scrapbooks of clippings, unpublishedlyrics and melody fragments, and worksheetswith revisions of both words and music —have never before been scholarly evaluated.This project, they state, should be a "valuable bibliographical tool for futurescholars."dennis day, am'73, as assistant superintendent of schools for the Illinois Department of Corrections (Springfield), a post hehas held since 1972, assists in the planning ofbasic, academic and vocational educationand training programs for the Illinois adultcorrectional system. He is active in BigThe University of Chicago Magazine. Volume I. XVIIAnastaplo, George, On Leo Strauss: A Yahrzeit RemembranceWinter, '74.Anderson, Robert O., Education and the 'New Values' Winter, '74.Big Year for Ted Haydon Summer, '75.Booth, Wayne C, Bandwagon, Relevance, and the Rhetoric ofAssent Winter, '74.Bostick, Winston H., The Plasma Vortex Winter, '74.Browder, Felix E., Is Mathematics Relevant? And if so, to What?Spring, '75.Chess, Near Miss in Spring, '75.Cohen, Nina, Women: A Formidable Force in Sports Autumn, '74.Colburn, George, One Doctor's Dream Spring, '75.Davis, Myron, The Quadrangles in Winter Winter, '74.Esthetic Lodestone (The Cochrane- Woods Art Center and the Davidand Alfred Smart Gallery) Winter, '74.Franklin, John Hope, The Historian and Public Policy Autumn,'74; The Moral Legacv of the Founding Fathers Summer, '75.Friedman, Milton, Schools at Chicago. Some Thoughts about theCurrent Economic Scene Autumn, '74.Gardner, Martin, The Magic Hexagon Spring, '75.Johnson, John H., Community and Communication Autumn, '74.Jones, Howard Mumford, Co-winner, Alumni Medal Autumn, '74.Joyce, Thomas, A Little Magazine Autumn, '74. Karl, Barry, Merriam and the 'Continuously Planning' SocietySummer, '75.Kissinger, Henry, The Energy Problem Can Be Solved! Spring, '75.Kuhn, Philip A., China: Excerpts from a Historian's JournalSpring, '75.Lepawsky, Albert, The New Deal at Midpassage Summer, '75.Levitt, William, Jr., From Podunk to SoHo Autumn, '74.Maclean, Norman F., 'Billiards Is a Good Game' (Recollectionsof A. A. Michelson) Summer, '75.Mattingly, Phyllis, Phyllis' Chronology Spring, '75.Meyer, Leonard, Shulamit Ran, Easley Blackwood, Paul Fromm,Milton Babbitt, Problems of Contemporary Music Autumn, '74.Moore, Paul B., What the Butterflies Are Telling Us Summer, '75.Morgenthau, Hans, The New Diplomacy of Movement: A CaveatSpring, '75.Muench, Mike, Wall to Wall Summer, '75.Neutron Bombardment in Cancer Therapy Summer, '75.Neville, Mary, A Tour of the City Autumn, '74.Norgren, Nelson: 'He Loved the Game and His Alma Mater'Spring, '75.Oxnard, Charles E., Australopithecus vs. the Computer Winter, '74.Proton Microscope Autumn, '74.Thompson, Kenneth W., Co-winner, Alumni Medal Autumn, '74.Yerkes: A Case of Value Added by Time Winter, '74.Young, George F. W., Are We, Too, to 'Decline and Fall'?Spring, '75.46Brothers of America and is presently servingas a field representative for the University ofChicago's recruitment effort.jamesp.beckwith, jr., jd'74, haspassed the North Carolina bar exam-JittersForge lived longerto the editor: Thomas Joyce's piece onliterary magazines at the University in yourautumn issue made too little of the oldForge, too much of the old Phoenix. I waseditor of both during my four years at theUniversity, a period which didn't begin untilthe year after Mr. Joyce says the Forge died,and I can testify that the Forge enduredthrough all the time I was there — i.e.,through 1930. It wasn't much of a literarymagazine, but it came out regularly, drew itscontributors from all over the country, andsupported itself by conducting its own lectureseries (Bertrand Russell, Vachel Lindsay,Carl Sandburg, John Jacob Niles, EdnaMillay and many others). On the proceeds,each quarter, we published. Robert Frostcontributed some money for prizes duringthat time; Mrs. William Vaughn Moody tookads for her catering service by way of a smalland kindly handout; the University gave noaid at all. Sterling North [x'28], Bertha tenEyck James [pIvb'24, am'26], StanleyNewman [ab'28], George Dillon [phB '27]and others were involved with the Forge toone degree or another after Mr. Joyce says itexpired. And when I left in 1930 1 handed onthe editorship to Elder Olson [ab'34, am'35,pIid'38], who must have brought out a fewmore issues.As for the Phoenix, it was not in anymeaningful sense a literary magazine at all,at least through 1930. It was a third-ratecollege comic of standard 1920s variety andan embarrassment to bring to mind. What itbecame after I left I don't know, but Inominated your present alumni chairman,Julian Jackson [p1ib'31], and another friend,OrinTovrov [p1ib'32], as successors, and myimpression is that they turned it into, say, asecond-rate college comic. None of thisapplies, of course, to the revised Phoenix ofthe 1960s.Mr. Joyce's hopes for his present Revieware, to be sure, more to the point than all this,and I wish him all the luck he seems to know ination and is working for the AdministrativeOffice of the Courts in Raleigh, N.C., as wellas under a grant from the National Trust forHistoric Preservation in Washington, D.C.He has completed an article on the"A.E.O.C," a club for ante-bellumhe needs, along with an increase of paradoxand many a good day's scrounging, thesebeing well up among the things successfullittle magazines are made of.dexter masters, phV30Totnes, Devon, EnglandArt of the ironicto the editor: Professor Schwab's choice ofthe word "stigmata" (in "Backtalk fromAbroad," March/ April, '74) is doublyappropriate. Not only do Chicago graduateshave characteristic marks, but the marksbecome wounds when one leaves the quadrangles and mingles with people more interested in seeking "Brownie points" thanengaging in a pursuit of truth. Faced with thefrustration of trying to apply the intellectualskills learned at Chicago to a setting that isoften hostile, one is likely to withdraw withfellow alumni to lick one's collectivestigmata.For those of us who do not have the goodfortune of remaining at the University untilcalled to the Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions, I propose one more art ofthe practical to be added to ProfessorSchwab's list: namely, an Art of the Ironic.I don't mean simply Socratic irony, touchedupon by Schwab in his meta-educationaldictum to confess ignorance in order to askquestions — an approach which may haveworked for Socrates but often leaves modernequivalents of the Sophists thinking one issimply slow-witted. Rather, a course in theart of irony would provide the student with aperspective about the very methods, goalsand achievements which he has labored sostrenuously to gain. The course couldintimate that the pursuit of truth, and itsattending intellectual manners, may well beits own reward. Further, the student wouldbe shown how to accept, with a certainbemused detachment, being often misunderstood, thought foolish and even resented.The press coverage of Edward Levi's confirmation hearings to be Attorney General,where the virtues of caution, tentativeness,and restraint were mislabeled as wishy-washytimidity, is only the latest of such cases.While the objective of an Art of the Ironic Southerners at Harvard, which has been accepted for publication by the South CarolinaHistorical Magazine, and has also prepared anumber of taped interviews for broadcast onWDBS-FM in Durham, N.C. (the stationaffiliated with Duke University).would be to give a sense of humor to theworthy description of an education as outlined by Mr. Schwab, it might diminishis the apparent need for another stigma ofthe Chicago graduate, and that is a tendencyto engage in a form of boosterism about theUniversity and its distinctiveness that isprovincial and beneath the dignity of a first-rate institution.DAVID snodgrass, ab'65APO New YorkPaean with a pointto the editor: Alleluia! Felix E. Browder's"venture into semi-mathematical rhetoric"in the Spring '75 magazine more thanoffsets negative feelings the articles sometimes evoke in me. "Is mathematicsrelevant? And if so, to what?" struck me as agem of hidden art, a sort of poem and paeanwith a point. As a devotee of "MathematicsIV" (who in the 50s had as his UC tutor thenow illustrious Paul J. Cohen), I find theessential point well taken indeed. As aCatholic "neo-pentecostal," though, I'dshorten the span, over which modern mathematics has yet to develop, from "centuries"to decades.Re reasons for "this failure ... to findways to convey the spirit of MathematicsIV," my teaching of mathematics at sixcolleges (from Illinois to Texas) over the pastfifteen years leads me to blame mostly whatSir John Eccles (Facing Reality — philosophical adventures by a brain scientist,1970) calls "a kind of pseudo-religion, Darwinism." Of course, amply pre-Darwinphilosophers, notably Hobbes, Hume,Rousseau, had — to say the least — set thestage well.Now that my view of "Darwinism" as afable for adults is evident, I shall probably,as an admitted pentecostal to boot, be taxedwith "fundamentalism" if not anti-intellec-tualism. (In fact, like Eccles, I accept a goodpart of "evolution" as a partial explanationof some things.) So I hasten to add that evensuch a pragmatist and agnostic as Einsteinprotested, "Hume destroys thought." Afortiori, Darwin.AUSTIN HERSCHEL, AB'41 , AM'5 1San Antonio, Tx.47Richard McKeon is one of many bidding au revoir to Edward Levi