Wellesley

Part 2

The Japanese were marching through Manchuria and Mussolini was invading Ethiopia, where his son was writing poems about the beauty of exploding bombs. The Abraham Lincoln Brigade was being organized in the Unite States to leave for the civil war in Spain. The two little princesses were the center of attention in England. Father Coughlin was preaching hate in the United States, and the rock-ribbed Republicans were busy hating everything .FDR did.

A real tragedy affected the whole country when the Lindberg baby was kidnapped. The Lindbergs had made a valiant attempt to keep the news media away from their first little boy, but the photographers haunted the house and grounds and trailed the cars the baby rode in, so that we were all familiar with the beautiful little boy with the head of blonde curls. He was taken from his nursery one night by someone who had climbed a home-made ladder to reach it, and had vanished from sight.

There were weeks of misery while false alarms went the rounds. A man named Condon said that he had been in contact with the kidnapper, and a large sum of ransom money was placed in his hands to be passed on. But no baby reappeared. Finally a truck driver who had left his rig to relieve himself in the woods not far from the Lindberg house found the little decomposing body. The child had been killed very soon after being taken.

It was a period of radio shows which were to go on for many years -- Fred Allen, Jack Benney, Burns and Allen, Amos and Andy. It was an era of big Broadway productions and Broadway stars --- Fanny Brice, George Jessel, Eddie Cantor, Clifton Webb, Fred Astair, Eve LeGallien, the Lunts . Movies were bigger and better than ever now that they had sound. Movies were produced which we still see -- Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Mutiny on the Bounty. Gone with the Wind, and the Wizard of Oz, Every movie theater in every small town was desperately trying to pull in customers. There were Bank Nights, when the lucky winners received a sum of money. Whole sets of dishes were given away, one piece at a time, and glassware was passed out to every customer. That glassware, now called depression glass, has become a collectors Item. It was the era of big bands and people with a little money to spend patronized the dance halls where Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, and Glenn Miller played. We were all singing 'Tis a Sin to Tell a Lie," "Pennies from Heaven." 'Red Sails in the Sunset" and similar songs.

Women were smoking by 1932-35. Prior to 1928 smoking had been banned on the Wellesley campus, with the result that girls went out en masse and sat along the road just outside college boundaries to smoke. As a result the rules were relaxed, and by the time my class came along in 1931 smoking was permitted almost everywhere on campus.

We had entered college during Prohibition, but of course people drank. Since it was against the law, drinking was not allowed anywhere on campus. Liquor had to be obtained by-stealth from a boot- legger, or by going to a speak-easy, which was considered quite dashing. Most of the girls were quite familiar with liquor at home, but there was not nearly as much drinking on college campuses as I hear there is now, and very little drinking to excess. It was usually girls who had never before encountered liquor who returned to the dormitory blotto. They were running the risk of expulsion and we covered up for them. I doubt that Drinking just to be drinking was nearly as prevalent then. I would have been startled at the idea of :polishing off a bottle in a student's room just to be drinking,, and just to get drunk.

As far as drugs were concerned, I doubt that any of us had ever heard of anything except cocain and heroin, which were considered dangerous. I had been on the committee concerned with international drug traffic at the Model League of Nations, so I was aware of the size and danger of the drug trade, but never thought that it concerned people like myself or my friends. I do not think that I was that far removed from my contemporaries, and I was not aware of any college student who indulged in drugs. Nobody was trying to blow or in any other way alter his mind.

We felt very modern about sex. We grew up just after a period when it was quite possible for a gently reared young woman to enter upon the noble estate of matrimony without knowing just what was really involved. We heard tales from women our mother's age, who told of the shock of discovering just what it was they were supposed to do when they reached the marital bed following the wedding ceremony -- although we strongly suspected such young ladies of being highly unimaginative and non-inquisitive. I felt that my mother had done a pretty good job of letting me know what went on in my own body, and what sex was all about. I had five or six little male cousins, so I had a pretty good idea of the general details of male anatomy, but at the time I went to Wellesley (and in fact, up until the time I was married) I had never seen a nude adult male. Few others in my class had seen a naked male -- and certainly not a male with an erection -- so that the models used in zoology class and in Dr, De-Kruif's sex lectures occasioned considerable mirth since they were approximately four times life-size and complete in every pore and hair follicle. Dr. DeKruif's sex lectures were compulsory, and were very popular. She was clear, complete and frank, but it was the question and answer period which brought the upper-classmen back. Questions were submitted, unsigned, and put into a box at the entrance before the lecture began, so that the questioners were not identified. Dr. D. would answer any question, and she got some questions which were startling in that day and age.

We knew that there were girls who had slept with boys, but we took with several grains of salt the tales of the girls who bragged about their conquests. I think that 90 per cent of the women at Wellesley were virgin when they entered and when they graduated. Sexual experience was not touted as the be-all and end-all of life. Most of us had every intention of getting married and having children ---- after we had our educations, and probably after we had worked for a few years. I am astonished today when I hear some woman on TV touting the advantages of "celibacy', by which she does not mean celibacy at all, but merely a respite from the pressures of out-of-wedlock sex life. When she prates on about the glories of time to sit back and discover yourself without the pressures of sex, I wonder why she and others ever abandoned the idea that a growing girl needs just such a period to discover herself.

Of course it must be pointed out that the only safe measure of birth control available at the time was the use of the condom by the male. Anything else was highly unreliable, and any act of sex was apt to lead to an unwanted pregnancy. The college offered a good many protections against these pressures. It may have been restrictive, but there was a good deal of comfort in the fact that you could always use the college rules as a handy excuse. I feel very sorry for today's teen age girl to whom society, her school, and often her parents give no weapons, and no protection except what she can come up with herself.

By my Senior year I was immersed in my major subject, which was Political Science, and was struggling through a course in Constitutional Law, and one in International Law, which made me bless the fact that I was a rapid and comprehensive reader. A group of us took a course called "Trends in Contemporary Christianity," from Joe Haroutunian and found it challenging. I gather from Charlie's letters that we also found Joe challenging. We talked him into giving a seminar course the second semester, in which we sat around and struggled with little problems like Immortality and Karl Barth, not to mention Kirkegaard.

My Political Science Seminar had only three or four girls in the class. Margaret Connors chose to do her research on Communism in Russia which left me the choice between Nazi Germany and Italian Fascism. As a German and a Jew I chose Nazi Germany, with which I struggled for months.

The entire fall of my Senior year has faded from my mind, nor can I remember much about Christmas vacation in Des Plaines. During that Christmas vacation I met and began to go out with Stanley Alexander. The Alexanders lived on Graceland Avenue. Stanley was the youngest of the three Alexanders who were all older than I. Our friendship, because that was all it was, continued after I got back to Wellesley. Stanley had graduated from Annapolis, served a year or two at sea, and was being sent to MIT by the Navy for advanced work. He w as extremely shy and had never dated, and now that he was at MIT and associating with Navy colleagues, many of whom were married, he needed a presentable female to take to the various outings and parties which were planned.

I thoroughly enjoyed it all, although I found it a little hard to know just what to say to the Navy wives who assumed a deeper friendship between Stanley and me than existed. At any rate, we kept our little secret and had a very good time that spring. He came as my date for Senior Prom, and since he was good looking and came dressed in full Navy White Formal Uniform he was the most dashing sight at the Prom. We continued to go together all spring and went out to dinner the night before Graduation, after which we parted for good.

That spring I was chosen a Wellesley Scholar, a lower honor than Durant Scholar, which I missed because of those miserable Sophomore exams. I also signed up to be interviewed for a job by IBM. This was the first year that the big corporations sent job interviewers to the girls' colleges, and none of us knew what to expect. The interview was pleasant enough, but alas, I did not get the job. I was not dismayed ---- not many of expected to have jobs upon graduation -- because I remembered my conversation with Mr. Toll the preceding year. Some time early in the spring I wrote to him asking for a job, To my joy I got an answer saying that if I were able to do a decent job of shorthand and typing there would be a job in research for me at the Council of State Governments in September, 1935, at the magnificent salary of $100.00 per month. For a brand new college graduate to have a job at all, and a job at $100.00 per month in 1935 was an unbelievable piece of luck, Nor was I incensed about being told I had to have shorthand and typing ---- it was a thing assumed at the time that a woman going to work should be able to do secretarial work as well as anything else she was asked to do.

Senior year at Wellesley ended with a final comprehensive examination which each Senior had to pass in order to graduate. There were always a few who flunked the thing, and who did not graduate with the class. It was possible to retake the examination at the end of the summer and get a diploma in the fall, but oh, the humiliation of not graduating with your class! Katharine Toll's mother was back for her 25th reunion at the time of our graduations and Katharine was one of those who flunked her comprehensive and did not graduate. Since she was a very popular girl she had been scheduled to make a speech at our class banquet, which she did, concluding with the remark that 1935 was a year which had not taken its toll of Wellesley.

Once comprehensives were over there, were farewells to be said to favorite professors, final packing to be done, dinner out with the boy friends, and then final step-singing late the night before graduation. The returned Alumnae joined the Juniors on the steps of the Chapel while the Seniors in caps and gowns came singing down the ramp of Green Hall under the Tower. It was a sentimental time.

My mother and sister Lois came for graduation and barely made it since, Lois graduated from Maine Township High School only two or three days before my graduation. Adelaide Brown came with them to help my mother drive, and they pushed hard to get to Wellesley just an hour or so before step-singing. We all left for New York right after graduation. Adelaide stayed with relatives in New York, my mother and sister stayed with Uncle Dick and I stayed at the Browns.

The summer was hot and dull, and I lived in my room in the basement and commuted to the Loop to a business college on Michigan Avenue to brush up on my typing and short-hand.

Just after Labor Day my mother drove me down to the south side, where I was to work at 850 East 58th Street in a building owned by the American Schools and occupied by agencies connected with the Public Administration Clearing House. All of the Public Administration offices were in some way concerned with government research and reform. They were supported by the Laura Spelman Fund, one of the Rockefeller Funds, administered by Mr. Guy Moffat. The gentlemen who were directors of the various offices were in their middle years, but most of the members of the staffs were young peoples recent college graduates.

Each office hired an apprentice each year, who was to come from state or local government body, work with the agency -- such as the Civil Service Assembly, the City Manager's Associations or the Council of State Governments --- for a year, after which they were to return to their home offices to spread the good word of what they had learned. It was an interesting and stimulating place to work, and it turned out that I was a peace offering, taking the place of the apprentice from the preceding year who had not one back where he came from. We also had a regular apprentice for that year, Richard Van Wagenen, and he and I were to do more or less similar work ---- research for the American Legislator's Association, and writing for the magazine, State Government. As time went on I complained to my immediate superior, George C. S. Benson, who was editor of State Government, that it was not exactly fair since I might be given an assignment exactly comparable to Dick's, but Whereas he was left in peace and quiet to research his articles I might be called on at any time to do some emergency typing, to take a letter, or to add insult to injury. to type up Dick's article. got little comfort from George, who admitted that it was unfortunate, but in those days it was remarkable enough that I was given a man's job, and at a man's pay, without worrying about the fact that I was also a typist. As a matter of fact, the situation was the result of the fact that the other women in the office were resentful of my privilege as that the office planned1t that way. I had been going to the regular weekly luncheons with the other apprentices at the U. of C. Faculty Club until the office manager (a woman) took me aside and told me that the other girls resented such special treatment. I do not think I blamed them. One of them had her law degree, but really did nothing but secretarial work, and all of them had far more experience than I. I was not surprised that I was doing different work, and that I was included in the apprentice luncheons --- I just took it for granted that as a Wellesley graduate I was going to be doing special things, but I could sympathize with the resentment of the other girls. Except for a few rare occasions I began to lunch with the girls at Chicago Commons, where it was quite possible to get a respectable lunch for a quarters I didn't worry unduly about it all --- life was much too exciting.

When I went to work I was offered and accepted with gratitude a salary of $100.00 per month --- exactly $1,200.00 per year. My friends and relatives were astonished at my good luck. In order to give you a rough idea of why I was so grateful I shall quote from the table of Annual earnings 1932-1934 as listed on page 24 of Time-Life's book, "This Fabulous Century - 1930-1940", and also give a sample shopping list from page 27 of the same book.

Annual Earnings

Airline pilot $89000.00
Public School teacher $1,227.00
Airline Stewardess 10000.00
Doctor 39382.00
Coal miner 723.00
Lawyer 49218.00
Civil Service Employee lt284.00
Registered Nurse 936.00
College teacher 3j111.00
Secretary 19040.00
Dentist 29391.00
Book-keeper 936.00

Shopping List

Automobiles --Chevrolet $650.00
Pontiac 585.00
Cadillac $2*150.00
Clothing -- Man's coat 11.00
Woman's coat 6.98
wool suit 3.98
shoes-womans 1.79
shoes - mans 3.85
double bed sheets .67
bath towel .24
electric iron @2.00
vacuum cleaner 18.75
gas stove 23.95

8 piece dining set $46.50
coffee table 10.75
wing chair 39.00
dental filling j.1.00
10 razor blades .49
alarm clock 2.00
brownie camera 2.50
gasoline - per gal. .18
steak-per lb. .29
rib roast per lb. .22
ham per lb. .31
butter per lb. .28
eggs per doze .29
sugar - per lb. .05

A modern house -- 6 rooms, 2 car garage in Detroit $29800.00
An English cottage -- 8 rooma, 3 baths, 1 ball room in Seattle 4,250.00
A train trip from Chicago to San Francisco - round trip 30.50
Commuter ticket from NYC to Scarsdale -- monthly 10.39
A tour of Europe -- 60 days -- 11 countries 495.00

I cannot remember what I paid in room rent in the first places I lived, but I believe that room rent At International House, where I spent my second year was $30.00 per month. I planned to feed myself on $1.00 per day, which did not exactly allow me to live high on the hog, but gave me an adequate diet since I breakfast at International House for about $.20, lunch at University of Chicago Commons for $.25 and had a hot dinner at International House on those evenings when I didn't have a date for about $.40. I went home most week-ends which canceled my food bills for two days while my transportation cost very little. I spent nothing for clothes since I was still living on my college wardrobe. During the 2 years that I worked I saved enough to take a vacation in California, went to Trenton to meet Charles' parents, and had over $500.00 in my bank account when I was married. Amazing what one can do if one counts every penny -- doesn't drive a car, doesn't smoke, and drinks only if offered a drink.

When I went to work in September, 1935 I lived for a few weeks at a hotel, and then rented a room in the apartment of a Professor at the University. I found living as a roomer an uncomfortable experience. It may have been because of the odd character of my landlady that I found it strange, but I was too shy to be anything but ill at ease in someone else's home, so that at Christmas time I was delighted to find that my mother was thinking of coming into the city for a while. My Grandmother Grimm was going back to Wichita to visit Anne, and Lois was away at Rockford College so that my mother was free to try city apartment life.

She and I were to share a small apartment in Blackstone Mansions on Dorchester Avenue for a few months. This was an ideal solution to my problem, and I gave up my room. After we had had the apartment for only a few weeks some friends of my mother's decided to go to California to visit the Clarkes and invited my mother to go along, which she immediately decided to do. This was not the disaster it might have been since she continued to pay her share of the rent on the apartment while she was gone. Therefore, I asked Dorothy Rittmueller to come down to live with me. I have a number of letters from this period which I will not quote.

We went to Rockford,to spend a weekend with Lois at College, and went down to see Walter Hampden in Cyrano de Bergerac. We entertained all of our friends at dinner, and Lois came to spend her spring vacation with us. By April 11 my mother returned from California much impressed with the beauties of California, the friendliness of everyone they met, and above all by the cheapness of everything. She had also been delighted at seing a golf-course where Clark Gable and Jeannette McDonald were filming the picture "San Francisco." She and her friends were firm Clark Gable rooters after watching him at work.

April 28, 1936

Dear Annie and Charlie,

It has been pouring rain all day, but are we daunted? No! My mother has a broken toe that has been causing her a good deal of trouble, but really she is in a pet because she has not yet heard from her sister Anne as to whether or not Grandma wants to come home from Wichita by train or by car.

The week-end of the 19th was a gala one for me. We had our Conference at the Shoreland Hotel,1 and from 8:30 in the morning until 2:00the following morning both Friday and Saturday I was conferencing. Both evenings we were showing Legislators from out of town all around the big city --- College Inn, Chez Pareeo etc. BUT TRIUMPH OF TRIUMPHS --WE MADE TIME MAGAZINE. PLEASE OBSERVE THE APRIL 27 ISSUE, PAGE 13, AND THERE WE ARE.

1 "The second nation-wide Assembly of Commisssioners in Interstate Cooperation Shoreland Hotel, Chicago. Seventy-four delegates, representing twenty-nine states and the Federal Government were present. This meeting was jparticipated in by all of the members of the National Resources Committee." The Book of the States, Vol II, jBook One, 1937, page 21.

Also I learned that I can have my vacation -- three weeks with pay--- in June, so I can go to my reunion.

Love,

That summer I had an interesting experience. Hugh Gallagher was in charge-of the New York office of the Council of State Governments, and had a staff consisting of one young lady. The main office was anxious that the New York employee have some experience in the Chicago office, while I wanted to go back east for my first reunion at Wellesley. It was decided that I should go back to New York, have three or four days off to go to reunion, and then I was to work in the New York office while the New York girl came to Chicago. I thought at the time that it was most noble of the Council to allow me to do this since I was delighted with the idea of being able to stay in New York and get paid for doing so. Actually, of course, it was much to their advantage since they got the New York girl to Chicago for training at only the cost of her railroad fare since she and I were getting identical salaries, and I was paying my own way. She was to live in my apartment and take over my expenses as well as do my job. It was a wonderful summer. I went to New York by train and drove up to Wellesley with Helen Brown, after which I returned to New York City and took over a room at Beekman Towers which was at 3 Mitchell Place- First Avenue at 49th Street. This was where the girl from the New York office lived, and was a very nice residential hotel for women, close to the heart of things, and much used by "nice girls," who were establishing themselves on the state or in careers.

============================== Our office was at 306 East 35th Street, near the corner of 2nd Avenue, which was not a very good address. I had a key, and since Hugh frequently had to go out of town I would open up the office and stay there all alone, conducting such business as had to be conducted. It never occurred to me to be afraid to be alone on the west side of New York City. Several classmates shared an apartment in Greenwich Village, the Van sickles lived up at the top of Manhattan, near the then new Cloisters museum, and Helen was in Bronxville. We felt free to go any-- where at all, by subway or elevated, and walked the streets of Greenwich Village freely. It was a wonderful summer.

June 17, 1936

Dear Mum,

I might just as well start in at the beginning and work on through. I came straight to the office after leaving the train, and then met Helen for lunch. We started for Wellesley at about 3:00 Friday afternoon. We didn't get in until rather late and sat and talked until after midnight with Tollo and her gang. Saturday morning it was just pouring. and it kept right on pouring.

We had a class meeting in the morning with a lot of dull business to attend to; Saturday afternoon was to have been a pageant on the green in honor of Miss Pendleton, but because of the rain they had to have it in Alumnae Hall, which was very sad indeed since after marching representatives from every class since 1886 into the ballroom there was hardly room to take a bow, much less do a dance. Saturday evening was class suppers which was, as usual, chicken patties and speeches. Monday morning we watched the academic procession. All of the faculty and alumnae looked very imposing but I cannot say the same for the Seniors.

Tuesday I came down to work. This is a terrible neighborhood. Barbara Leonard was here w1th me all day Tuesday. except for about two hours in the afternoon when, of course, I had two telephone calls and a telegram all asking for information I didn't have the vaguest ideas as to how to find. Mr. Gallagher is in Washington, and I am alone in the office today. I am working on the filing system, but I got woozy and decided to write to you.

Barbara arrives in Chicago Thursday morning. I left my riding pants in the clothes hamper by mistake, but it turns out to be lucky because she is going to wear them. My boots are also in the apartment, but I am going to ask you to do several things. First -- my boot hooks are in Des Plaines among that stuff in the little black suitcase. Will you please take them in to her, along with my other pair of boots? Also, I told her it would be dumb for her to lug golf clubs from New York to Chicago, so will you please also take her my golf clubs?

Tell Bud and Billy I will write to them.

Love,

June 19, 1936

Dear Family ,

Hello, I have been inspired by the dullness of the day into writing to you all. The weather here has at last warmed up and cleared up. I can now wear all of the charming clothes that I bought for this trip east. I work on Second Avenue at 35th Street, so it is quite essential that I be all dressed up. It is probably the worst neighborhood in New York, not even excepting the Bowery. There is a drunk lying on our front doorstep at the present moment. Looking at the bunch of WPA workers across the street gives me the heebie-jeebies, they diddle around to so little avail.

Mr. Gallagher, boss of this office, went to Washington the day before I came, returned late Sunday night, went to Philadelphia Monday morning, returned late Monday night, and went to Boston this morning, so to date I have not seen hide nor hair of him. He and I have had several telephone conversations and Mr. Robinson, who is in Philadelphia has been keeping up a telegraphic correspondence re a meeting which he held yesterday. Otherwise I am as alone as on a desert isle.

Our office is on the first floor of this building, and there is an office on the fourth floor -- between are two dark empty spaces.

Yesterday at about one o'clock Judge Hartshorne called up and asked me to come to Newark, N. J. to do some work on the Interstate Commission on Crime, of which he is chairman. It was all rather impressive since when I got to the court-house he was on the bench, and I was led around by various uniformed court attendants who were expecting me, but didn't know just what to do with me. I spent the remainder of the afternoon in Newark, getting back just in time for dinner.

Helen and I went to the Night of -Sports in Bronxville last night. As usual all kinds of famous people were there. The most impressive, all around, was Elsie Janis. I had never seen her in person before, and I wasn't expecting to like her, but she was just tops. Of course, Vinnie Richards, Eddie Rickenbacherg Paul Runyan, Ford Frick , the Turnesa Brothers, Jerome Kern, Eddie Eagan, etc. were there since they live in the village. Bob Hope, lead in this year's Follies, was master of ceremony, and I tell you, the man is completely balmy. The entire Cincinnatti base-ball team was there, and so were 12 of this year's competitors for the American track team, and the entire Olympic fencing team. There were 40 people scheduled to appear, and as usual about 60 turned up. The show began at 8s45 and ended at 100. This show is always fun because all of the actors know .so many In the audience personally and they try out material they can never do on the stage or the radio.

Enough. Charlie, I am planning to stay several days or a week with you when I leave here, Mom, I now hear that I may be here until July the 27th.

Love

Dear Mother -

You are going to have to send this as a round robin to all of our assorted relatives. I thought maybe I'd get around to writing one from the office where I could make carbons, but I never seem to have the time.

Atlantic City was much fun. I left the office at noon, got there in time for dinner, made some arrangements with the management and went out for dinner with Hugh and Dave. Friday morning I saw the Convention Manager of the hotel and arranged an office and a typewriter for myself, had her send up a stenotypist for me to interview, and had her call the mimeographers to come for the programs. I then typed out programs, resolutions, etc. to be mimeod, spoke to the stenotypist -- and hired her, and arranged menus for two luncheons and a dinner. (I fed them lobster at dinner and gave them nice light lunches so they could work after them.) Also saw three reporters.

One o'clock luncheon didn't begin until two o'clock, and I had lunch with the delegates which was not very interesting since things hadn't begun, but I met everyone. There were two speakers so the stenotypist was there to take notes. During the afternoon session I didn't have much to do because of course the stenotypist took all the notes, but at 5:30 there was a meeting of the Executive Committee for which I had to take the notes. After that George (George C. S.Benson of the Chicago office) and I concocted some resolutions out of what had been said, and then there was a dinner which was to have been at seven and wasn't until eight. As the only female there I sat at the right hand of the Chairman!

Some of the men went swimming before dinner while George and I were doing resolutions, and Dave and Mr. Zimmerman of New York and Senator Capers of Mississippi got very drunk. Hugh was furious and had to spend much of dinner time trying to keep them out of the dining room and out of sight. Dinner wasn't over until 10:45 and I wasn't able to do anything afterwards because Dave and Zimmerman and Capers wanted me to go out with them, which I wouldn't, but which also meant I couldn't do anything else but stay out of sight.

On Saturday morning the Conference went on --- and again I didn't have much to do but see reporters and try to collect papers which were scattered all over. We had lunch and I tried to get expense accounts arranged for the men. Most of them had forgotten their expense sheets, and Margaret hadn't sent me any extras, so 1 just asked them what they had spent, took it down in shorthand and asked them to sign a blank sheet of paper on which I would type up the Information. They did so, but most of them being lawyers, they did laugh greatly at the idea, on account of it is one of the cannons of the legal profession that you never sign your name to a nice blank sheet of paper.

And now comes a tale. You almost lost your little pet. Hugh and I decided to go swimming early Saturday morning. Both of us are pretty decent swimmers so we just tore right in. Pretty soon I realized I couldn't touch bottom and seemed to be moving rapidly out to sea, and I started for the shore. I was scared, but I am used to that, and I didn't say anything to Hugh. There was a row of rocks on our right, and all of a sudden they looked awfully close, and I also realized that I wasn't getting anywhere as I swam. I swam violently, and, by golly, the next time I looked I was farther out than when I started. Well, you just quit being scared, in fact you quit thinking, you even quit being out of breath at a time like that. I just put out all I had, and I finally got to where I could touch --- and then got carried back out, and did the whole thing over and over, each time getting a little better foot-hold. I tell you, when I could finally stand up my belly ached, my head swam, and I couldn't keep the waves from breaking right over my head, but I felt swell. Then I decided that maybe I ought to think about Hugh, and I looked but couldn't see him, but I still didn't think much of it, and turned to walk to shore, and My God, there was the whole beach gazing out to sea and three life guards running up and down and a boat pulling out furiously. I never thought that it was Hugh and me the hue and cry was all about until a life-guard grabbed my shoulder and said, "Well, you're all right."

And then they discovered that Hugh was all right too. He had been carried over to the rocks and cut his leg. They stewed around for quite a few minutes before he got in. We were pretty subdued and went and sat down on the sand, We did go in again, but not far, and then we ran up and down the beach before getting dressed.

We left for New York after lunch -- had to change trains in North Philadelphia. The Conference cost about $900.00. We had 25 men representing 17 states. My hotel bill was $18.00, my R.R. fare was 7.75, dinner on the train $1.75, and tips $2.50. I am glad the Council was paying for the week-end.

It's late.
I'm tired.

Love,

From New York I went to Akron where I spent some time with my Uncle Charley at the Sanatorium, then back to Chicago where I lived for a short while longer at the St, George Hotel with Stella. We went to the Chicago Opera every week that fall. We sat in the cheapest seats, but in the big new Civic Opera building which had been built by Samuel Insull just before the stock market crash, the acoustics were fine, and visibility unimpaired from the farthest upper seat. We thought nothing of going down-town on the IC, walking through the loop over to the Opera House, walking back again at 11:00 PM. and riding back on the IC. The scariest part of the trip was the walk from the raised IC platform at 59th street, down the dark stairwell, and out onto the street through the revolving barred gate. No woman in her right mind would do such a thing today.

We regularly attended the Theatre Guild performances and saw Eve LeGallien, the Lunts, Shaw's St. Joan, and the Petrified Forest with Leslie Howard and Humphrey Bogart. Amelity Galli Curci attempted a come-back at the Chicago Opera House, and since I had been brought up on Galli Curci records I went to see this sad fiasco.

Life at 850 East 58th Street was increasingly interesting. The place was in a ferment with people coming and going. George C. S. Benson left to become President of Claremont College in California. Stuart Wilson came in as Director of the Secretaries of State Division, the old apprentices left and a whole new batch arrived -- Leo Seybold at Council of State Governments, Danny Goldy at American Public Welfare, Charles Bentley at the Civil Service Assembly, Otho DeVilbiss came to Cosgo as a new publicity man, Chuck Mills as new Director of Publications Division, Raymond Magle, former Attorney General of Nebraska was to run the Attorney General's Division. There were other young people unaffiliated with the PACH offices who came to live In the area --- Mug Olsen, who had taken the IBM job from me at Wellesley was living at 57th and Kenwood, Jack Lanahan who had known Charles at High School and at Princeton was working at Inland Steel in their training program. We had a very active social life indeed.

That fall, in a spirited election Franklin Delano Roosevelt defeated Alf Landon, and the Republicans had to continue gnashing their teeth. Some time during the coming year Edward VIII, King of England, made his famous speech giving up his throne for the woman he loved, which so excited the world. My impression was that anyone under 35 thought he was crazy, the women over 45 thought it was most romantic.

When Virginia Savage came to work at the Council of State Governments and I had less secretarial work to dog I was appointed acting editor of the "Book of the States," which the American Legislator's Association put out every two years.

My job was to persuade all of the many men who were chairmen of our committees and associations to submit an article before I could even begin with the editing of the book. I also had to write up the Introduction, the History of the Council of State Governments and the American Legislator's Association, a description of the work of the central secretariat, and write up the magazine State Government. In consultation with their chairmen I had to write up The Governor's section, the Secretaries of State section, the Attorneys General section, the Commissions on Interstate Cooperation, the General Assembly, the Interstate Commission on Conflicting Taxation, the Interstate Commission on Crime, the Interstate Commission on the Delaware Basing the Interstate Commission on Social Security, the Interstate Commission on the Ohio Basin. Part II of the Book was a handbook of the states listing administrative officers in each state, information about the states, and information about certain of their laws. All of this material had to be researched, edited and typed up to be sent, down to R. R. Donnelley, the printers. When it came back in galley proof it had to be approved by Mr. Toll.

All in a11, it was a 400 page book full of unexciting facts, which was to be sent out to every state legislative library, most state officers, including legislators, all federal libraries, and many public libraries as well as to libraries at many colleges --- a copy still reposes on the shelf at Lyndon State College.

In January, 1937 the staff of the Council of State Governments went to Washington, D. C. at the time of Roosevelt's second inauguration. We were to hold the 3rd General Assembly of the Council of State Governments, a meeting of the American Legislator's Association, and a Conference of Commissioners on Interstate Cooperation. It was held in Washington at that time because so many public figures would be there for the inauguration. Some 265 delegates from 46 states attended the Council Assembly. We went in our own Pullman car and arrived several days before the inauguration in order to get set up. It was a most exciting experience.

January 23, 1937

Dear Mom,

Have I written to you at all? I really can't remember. I don't believe I have --- so I will begin at the beginning.:

We had a car all to ourselves on the Pennsylvania R.R.., and they made as much fuss over us as though we had been Queen Marie. The R. R. sent a bottle of Scotch to the car, they served us claret with our dinner, and everyone was much concerned over our comfort.

We disembarked just after breakfast on Sunday, and went off to our various hotels -- for the three days until Inauguration. Some of us had to stay at hotels other than the Mayflower. We hadn't even time to unpack before we hurried over to the Mayflower for a staff meeting, which lasted until about 3:3O when we all went in to dinner, and then back to the staff meeting. At 7:30 we finally went to supper -- Kay and I, Chuck, Dick, Leo, General Nagle and Dave. Our bill for 7 people was $19.75: aren't you glad I am on an expense account? Then Chuck and Dave and I went over and worked on the program until 1:00 A. M.

We decided that the best way to save time would be to have all of our meals together and hold our staff meetings at that time, so that is what we are doing. (Just got a job -- I am to keep an eye out for Frederick A. Delano and rush up to greet him, so this may get incoherent.)

On Tuesday we met for all our meals and worked furiously all day. This hotel is just packed. The electoral college dinner was here Tuesday night, and the milling mobs for inauguration are coming in. Governors and Legislators all over the place. Tuesday night I worked until one again on the program, reading proof and checking lists. Wednesday this hotel was a madhouse. We had our meals together as usual, and toolk an hour or so off for inauguration, which took place in pouring rain, so we did not really attempt to go outside, but hung out the hotel windows and watched the parade up Pennsylvania Avenue. We could not get tickets for inauguration beforehand, but since then half a dozen Conferees have been telling us they were sorry they did not know since they had extra tickets, and we could have ridden in their cars. That's life. Wednesday night I worked with Mr. Toll an his speech --- until 1:30 again.

On Thursday the Assembly began, and the rushing went on and on. Meetings all day, and the big dinner in the evening. It was a big success. I had been spending 3/4 of my time trying to arrange seating plans, and the speaker's table. I had to call the protocol division of the State Department to find out the general order of precedence, but in the end I just put them where I wanted them, not where they were supposed to go. The speaker's table nearly turned my hair grey because, of course, all cabinet officers and Governors had to go there --- plus the speakers -- and I had either far too many people if I used all of the Senators, or too few if I just tried to pick out prominent people we wanted. Then I had to call them all up to be sure they were willing to sit there. And finally I had to see that they got there.

I finally went up and dressed and came back down about 10 minutes of 7. At the table sat Toll, Brownlow and Governor McNutt, about to go on the air. I sat beside them and signaled to them when the radio man gave their cues. It was a swell broadcast. I hope you heard it on the blue net work of NBC.

When they were through I put the place cards around, and got people seated, and then went and had my own dinner --- when I wasn't . running around. First I had to get the. list of signers and take it to Mr. Toll, and then I had to get pen and ink, and finally I had to see to the signing.

Of course, you don't know what they were signing, and I won't tell you. If it gets any publicity you'll see it, and if it doesn't I will tell you. (Unfortunately any second letter has been lost, and I do not really remember what was signed, but I have a feeling it was the organization of the Governor's Conference, which is still meeting in 1981).

If I don't have cyrhossis of the liver before I get out of here I'll be surprised. The days before the meeting began were really worse than the ones during the meetings because we not only worked all day, but went right on working after midnight Butt as Mr. Toll said the night I worked with him, you keep going on nerves and alcohol. Since the meetings began we have been through with our work by dinner time, but you feel so exhausted that you have a cocktail before you go in to dinner so that you can rally round and be chatty with the delegates and then you feel so good that it seems like a bright idea when somebody suggests the cocktail lounge, and so it goes.

I am writing this during speeches by Wallace and Delano -- I guess I'll go get ready for lunch.

Love ,

February 2, 1937

Dearly Beloved and Assorted Family,

I am at the Interstate Commission on the Delaware River Basin, at 308 Franklin Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and I am alone --- very much alone in Philadelphia and slowly dying of ennui. I shall probably have lost the power of speech by the time I leave here. The only words I utter all day long are those necessary to procure food and lodging.

Our whole office went by train to Washington, D. C., where we stayed at the Mayflower Hotel. We were terrifically busy for the four days preceding our convention. We all met for Breakfast and then worked straight through the day and evening until 1 A. M. When the conference began on Thursday the work didn't let up. but it was different, and there was feverish running about until you felt as though your feet might fall off. If that didn't happen, you certainly couldn't act bright at dinner with a lot of goops who wanted to know what it was all about. So, hence began the indulgence in alcoholic beverages. We would all hurtle into the bar for scotch and soda before dinner, and by the time that had begun to take effect, the general feeling was that you would probably live through the meal. By the time you have a few cocktails at dinner you decide it might be a livable world after all, and are in a mood amenable to a drink after dinner ---- after which you are ready to dance until 2. Then there's always breakfast for the staff at 8:00 again, when you resolve that you will not only go to bed right after dinner tonight, but maybe even before --- and so the merry round begins again.

Here I would like to remark that I have no very high regard for 9/10 of the male sex of the genus homo sapiens. When they get away from home and the kiddies some of the screws come loose. Not that they become wolves, or dart out from dark corners --- but I must say that they lack some sort of pride. Naturally, there was a great shortage of women -- in fact, the odds were something like 10 women to 250 men. Some of the men were simply swell -- they treat you as a person and are a pleasure to have around. As for the rest -- you just have to avoid them. They probably don't want any more than to buy you a drink, but My God, need they fawn? We all stuck close to our own men and had nothing to do with the delegates -- not even with the nice ones, In our own office group we do have a good time together. As Mr. Paul of New Jersey, said -- he had never seen an office crowd like ours. We had breakfast together, we worked all day together, and our idea of a good time was to go out to dinner and spend the evening together.

By Tuesday there were only six of us left on guard. The last of us took the 11 o'clock train to Philadelphia, where we had lunch with Dave and then proceeded to New York. I headed straight for Bronxville. I lazed about all day Wednesday, and the weatherman was very kind and provided the most gorgeous spring weather. Wednesday night we went to see Noel Coward and Gertrude Lawrence in three plays. OCf the three I like "Fumed Oak" best, was slightly bored by "We Were Dancing," and baffled bu "Shadow Play".

On Thursday I went to New York to have lunch with the office crowd which had gone up to twelve again since it included a couple of wives, and then took a bus up Riverside Drive to show the city to those who had never seen it before ---- might just as well have saved our time, they are tearing up the entire park along the river, and it was too misty to see the bridge or the Palisades decently. Friday I met Dolly and Al for lunch, and that evening played bridge at Doyles.

I was all packed and ready to leave for Chicago -- in fact, I was over saying goodbye to Babs when a frantic call came from the Chicago office asking me to go to Philadelphia instead of returning to Chicago. You never saw such a hubbub -- Margaret called Browns, Browns called me, Otho called Browns, I called Otho, I called Grand Central, Philadelphia called me, I called Philadelphia, Margaret called again. Mrs. Brown nearly went out of her mind because, of course, I was never there to get the call, and then she had to try to find me.

So, here I am. I am supposed to be hiring a girl before Dave gets back, but from the specimens I have seen he will have to take his own dictation. I am staying at the Bellevue Stratford, which is a hole of ancient gentility. This office is a tomb. David is touring the flood area at the moment, which is why I am here. My solitary life has been somewhat alleviated by a kindly reporter from the Record who dropped in the first morning for news, and left me with a pass for the movies, sent in a girl to be interviewed for the job, and got me a date for the movies tonight. I spend my lunch hours prowling up and down streets. There are some lovely shops here. My friend in need seems to be Nick the Barber, across the hall, who watches the office when I am out and gives me advice on where to go and how to get there. Had lunch on Monday at Stauffers, dinner at Kuglers, Lunch on Tuesday at Whitman's and don't know where I shall have supper. They do have good food here. The Lunts open Monday, and I am torn between a desire to see them now, and a thrifty conscience which reminds me that I will see them in Chicago on already purchased Theatre Guild tickets.

I am going back to New York on Saturday, and will leave for Chicago on the Commodore Vanderbilt on Sunday.

Love to all

The social life of the young people at the various Public Administration Clearing House offices was pr6ceding, at a mad pace. We began to get weddings, until finally we were having better than one a month, Danny Goldy was in love with Phyllis Opper, Charles Bentley was in love with Kay Stubbs, Phyllis Opper liked Danny Goldy immensely, but had a secret yen for Charles Bentley, Hannah Greeley loved Chuck Mills, Jack Lanahan and Virginia Savage were beginning to get serious about each other. Ley Seybold's girl gave up her job in Ohio and came to Chicago to keep an eye on Leo.

A young lady named Mary Hanrahan, who was in our secretarial pools went out on evening jobs to earn a little extra money. She suddenly presented us with a very interesting problem. One of the jobs she had gone out on had resulted in numerous repeat jobs, and now her employer, a young man named Edgar Bergen, wanted her to come back to Hollywood as his secretary. There was nothing romantic about all of this, he just thought she was exactly the secretary he needed. She had never been out of the city of Chicago, Hollywood seemed a long way away, and working for a ventriloquist and his dummy seemed very far fetched. She told her tale to Stuart Wilson who called Virginia and me into consultation, and all three of us used all of our powers of persuasion to convince Mary that it was the chance of a life time, and that she should go ahead and go to Hollywood with Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy.

I was living at International House and enjoying it tremendously. The rooms were comfortable and inexpensive. All kinds of interesting people lived there -- students, graduate students faculty and members of the research staffs as well as foreign students. I was able to live there only because there was a shortage of genuine foreign students because of the depression. There were more women than men, and two floors of the men's wing were turned over to the women, and that is where I lived.

There was always a crowd in the dining rooms. Ben Draper, who was from Denver, was doing research on children's games, and he had an ideal group to work with at International House, He had a theory that children's games were passed down from generation to generation and from country to country almost unchanged. Sure enough, people from all over the world and from various parts of the country seemed to play the same games and use the same chants. We spent several days arguing about the call used at the end of a game of "Hide and Seek." Did you say "Alls Alls Outs in Free," or did you say Ollie, Ollie, Oxen Free?" or were there still other variations? It turned out that an English couple named 0pie had done the same sort of work and beat him to publication.

War was brewing in Europe, and the International House crowd was definitely anti-Nazi, so that there was great agitation when a group of Nazi students came to the University of Chicago, and quite naturally stayed at International House. They were promptly challenged to a debate by the young communists in the house. It was an unfortunate debacle since the Nazis were a picked group of Germans, several of them already lawyers, while the young communists were just an undisciplined batch of students who felt liberal -- and who may not actually have been communists at all. The Nazis remained calm, cool, and collected while the communists got-more and more impassioned and were finally absolutely demoralized by the Nazis. At International House I also discovered that often the most vocal liberals are actually the least liberal in their behavior to waiters, secretaries, and those the consider hoi polloi in general.

Early in July the Book of the States was sent to bed in Crawfordsville, Indiana where R. R. Donnelley had one of its plants, and Leo Seybold and I went down to read proof and make final corrections. It seemed a romantic idea. Crawfordsville is a charming little town complete with a small college, and it worried Mildred no end. But she need not have worried. By this time Charles Bentley and I were going together in a serious way. By mid-July the book was finally finished and sent out.

Released from the Book of the States I was free to take a long- planned trip out west for which I had been saving every dime I could squeeze out of my $100.00 per month. At that time you could buy a tourist ticket with which you could go anywhere at all, so long as you were in continuous passage from your starting point to the farthest place on your itinerary. I went to Wichita. Kansas, to visit the Tuckers, to Dallas, Texas, to visit Sarah Jane Landauer, and then to Los Angeles, where I spent a week with the Clarkes. While there Beth Clarke, who was just my age, borrowed Mr. Clarke's car, and with a friend of Beth's blithely drove down to Ensenada, Mexico, which was as far as the highway went at that time. From the time you left Tia Juana at the border until you arrived at Ensenada some 150 miles down the peninsula, you didn't pass a house, a gas station, a store, or anything else but a goat or two. It was a lovely, lonely drive, and when we got to Ensenada, which had not yet been "discovered," there was nothing but an incredibly beautiful beach, one small hotel, a bar or two and a few shops. While we were there we were entertained by some sort of demonstration. There was marching and shouting and waving of placards and banners. but since we didn't understand a word of Spanish we had no idea of what was going on. We took a lot of pictures, however, and years later, looking at those pictures I realized that we had been in the midst of some sort of Communist demonstration --- all of the banners have big hammers and sickles on them. But everyone was delightfully friendly and kind to the three young North American ladies, and we enjoyed our stay and drove safely back to Los Angeles.

While in Hollywood I looked up Mary Hanrahan, who was delighted to see a familiar face and took me home to lunch at Edgar Bergen's house. Edgar's mother, a charming Swedish lady fixed lunch ,and Edgar came in to be introduced. He displayed Charlie McCarthy in his traveling box, and autographed a picture for me.

From California I went to Denver where I stayed with Tollo4, who was occupying her uncle's house while he and his family were in Europe. Since we had Mr. Toll's car we saw the sights in and around Denver, went up to Rim of the World Drive, which another Toll brother had designed and been instrumental in building, and went to Central City, and had a wonderful time. After Denver I went back to Chicago.

Charles was due to return to his New Jersey State Civil Service job in September, which was very sad. He left with nothing still decided between us. Work was not as fascinating as it had been because my big job was over, and I was back to doing a bit of research and writing for the magazine and the Legislative Reference Service. I began to go home many week-ends since Charles was no longer around International House, and people who discovered that he was gone assumed I was interested in dates, and there was no peace. One of the people who was interested was Dr. William Sheldon, who was still doing research on Endomorphs, Ectomorphs and Mesomorphs. I thought of him as quite an old man --- he must have been all of 35 --- although I went out with him a number of times since with him I did things much more exciting than the things my impoverished young friends could do.

My cousin, Jack Castino was not at Purdue and had been tapped by a fraternity, and horrors of horrors, did not know how to dance. Every few weeks he came to Chicago and he and I went to the Aragon Ball room where we swang and swayed with Sammy Kaye until he had mastered the gentle art. Bill Graupner also came down to dance waince he was now at IIT and also without the skills of the ballroom.

Meanwhile, Charles and I were not only writing every day, but calling and telegraphing every week-ends and by the time that Jack Lanahan and Virginia Savage were married in late October we were considering ourselves engaged and I went to Trenton for Thanksgiving to meet his family. At Christmas time Charles came to Chicago, and we were beginning to make wedding plans.

He had to go back to Trenton immediately following New Year's Day and by that time we had decided to get married at Easter, and so informed my mother. My mother immediately began to take over and lay plans for my wedding. She was in a state of great excitement, planning the guests, the reception, my clothes, my linens, my glassware, etc., etc., and wearing me down. After a week-end at home listening to her I was a nervous wreck and wrote telling Charles I could not face getting married at all. He immediately wired back that he was returning to Chicago. I therefore wired him saying that he should stay in Trenton and I would come there at once. I dashed madly around, getting railroad tickets, visiting Planned Parenthood. packing my clothes, telling the office that I was leaving, and finally called my mother. When I told her I was going to Trenton in two days time to be married, the first thing she said was, "If you have a baby in 9 months I will kill you." Which relieved me of a great deal of guilt and freed me to go.

On January 13, 1938 I got myself to the railroad station and got on the train a nervous wreck. At 10:30 P.M. I rang for the porter and ordered a ham sandwich and a glass of milk which I devoured and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.