Stanford

Sep 29, 1961

Dear parents 

Please excuse the delay in my writing – I have already excused yours. Also excuse this letter, but I have to say a lot of things and I’m too lazy to arrange them in any kind of order. Watch out, here they come. 

When you left things calm down a bit around the hearth, and I actually had a little relaxation until the Schlomanns arrived. Jim and I picked them up at the station on time, escorted them to their new house, and unpacked them. The two girls aren’t small enough to be yorking on the rugs, large enough to do any significant damage to the house, which may please you. Sunday afternoon I took Tisch to the concert at Frost, heard a lot of good, popular music (Rossini, William Tell, Sousa), talked to the Fowles about ski boots, met the Fowle boy (no pun intended), and had fun in general. Monday evening I ate with Pop and Catherine, who have, incidentally, recently acquired a magnificent Japanese screen – about 6 feet high and 12 feet long – and brought home a lot of good roast beef for Tiger. The next morning, Mrs. Schlomann discovered termites near the fireplace, so I recommended she have an inspector visit the place. Tuesday, Jim and I drove to the Sacramento state fair and saw the sights. The first and last state fair I hope to see.  Jim drove back to Menlo Park that evening, and I drove south. I arrived in Los Angeles around four in the morning, let the two soldiers I had picked up off, pulled off to the side of the road, and slept on the front seat of the car until around nine in the morning.  I then headed for Balboa Island, where Doc’s family rented an apartment, and unloaded my gear. I spent about five days at Balboa, swimming, loafing, reading, tanning, dancing, Disney Landing, and even stomping. Stomping is a ritual performed only in a certain building on the island by certain people during certain times of the year. when I went stomping with Doc about 3000 kids were already at it. Doc walked into the large dancehall, pointed to a girl across the room, she nodded, they squared off about 15 paces away, and stomped. When the stomping music stopped, he waved to her and she to him, and they returned to their respective places at the side of the stomping floor. We stomped for about three hours.

Doc had several friends with him at this time: Don Folgner, another sophomore from Stanford; Dick Smith, from Claremont Men’s College; Dave Sandor, a Yaylie, and a few others I can’t remember. The night after stomping, we all hopped in Dave’s car and headed for Tijuana. Halfway down, we stopped an an extremely exclusive, snotty, and rather grubby restaurant, walked in in our jeans, shorts, go-aheads, etc., orderrd the biggest meals in the house, and paid with Dick’s credit card. Seems that Dick was given this card as a gift for working all summer in Mexico, in lieu of a regular paycheck. We arrived at the Mexican border around 10 in the evening in high spirits. The American customs officials checked to see we were all over 18, and the Mexican officials just winked at us. Dick spoke fluent Spanish, and had been to Tijuana several times before, so he let us to the best “spots”.  We visited, in all, about 10 nightclubs, ordering beer every time, and saw some of the most amazing entertainment you can believe. Lots of fun.  Then Dick bought an 8 inch switchblade, so powerful that it had a recoil every time you opened it, and I bought some fireworks for another boy in Balboa who couldn’t make the trip.  By now (around two in the morning) we were all charged up, so we grabbed a taxi to the nearest house of uneasy virtue. Here we are, five kids in Tijuana, heading for a house. Pretty exciting, eh?  We arrived after the cabbie had a flat tire and entered the bar. Three women, each about 35 years old, immediately lumber over to our table and hopped in our laps, as the girls have been doing in all the bars we had visited. Dick talked to each in turn, while the rest of us decided that the girls were not that sharp (you can bet we would have decided this no matter what they looked like); we left after about 15 minutes in a body, the girls hurling curses at us, and Dick screaming back at them. We spent another hour or two walking around the streets, talking to everyone we could find, until we decided to head north again. The garden spot of Mexico. Lots of fun, when some other kids are with you.

After exhausting the Davis's resources, I drove to San Marino and stayed with Dave Sandor for two or three days. Together we saw the Huntington Library and celebrated Jewish New Year’s, with shofars and everything, at his family's synagogue. Very interesting. I drove back to Balboa for a two day cruise on Don Foger‘s father‘s 52 foot schooner (should I say yacht?). We didn’t fool with the sails, but merely used the boats auxiliary. Then it was back to San Marino, and a few days with Patty. This was an experience. Pete was home, and so was Tom, but most of my time was spent with our Republican friend. Besides such exciting things as style shows, and teas with all sorts of nice girls from nice families, she invited me to hear John Morely speak before the San Marino Women’s Republican Club, whose chairwoman is Francis, of course. That meeting was a kick. Did you know that Yuri Gagarin never really orbited the Earth?  That the Peace Corps should be staffed with retired school teachers and clergy men instead of irresponsible kids? That the Harvard economics department is a hotbed of communists under the now dead grandmaster, John Maynard Keynes? These and many other facts like them I learned, all in less than an hour and a half. Boy, can Morely cover ground fast. The other excitement I had, such as a few missions - Mount Wilson, the Huntington library, and so on - seemed rather tame in comparison. Patty has a marvelous library to back up her viewpoint, so I got it from both barrels. Almost as fun as Tijuana.

I flew to San Francisco one evening for an important Africa Week meeting, and "One Night on the Barbary Coast", and then flew back to San Marino the next morning to stay a few days with Dick Smith. I persuaded Dick to visit Forest Lawn cemetery with me, as I had read a lot about it, so we had a few laughs, including a showing of the largest religious painting in the world. (over 120 feet long.), and the sending of several postcards to friends. That place is a riot. Now I have to read The Loved One.

Dick and I then drove to his beach house in Laguna Beach, where I stopped for another four days. One of those days I decided to get drunk for the first time in my life, just to see what it was like.  (I know, John, I weakened.), and got thoroughly smashed. The three evenings we were at Laguna,  we had two girls we met on the beach cook for us. A very nice setup.

Well, the summer was about over, so I drove back to the Bay Area and headed for San Francisco the next day to represent Stanford in Africa Week. This was the best part of the entire summer. Besides meeting many wonderful Americans (Governor Brown, not so wonderful, Mayor Christopher, not so wonderful, Harry Bridges, somebody, who is now, I think, a federal court circuit judge, Randolph Hearst, Jr., Cyril Magnin, presidents of Saks, millionaires, big shots in all walks of life, and even some wonderful Africans (Jaja Machuca, Minister of Foreign Affairs and head of the Nigerian delegation to the United Nations, the ambassadors from Ghana, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Morocco, not to mention assorted ministers, secretaries, and delegates: in all, about 40 men and women representing some 30 African nations), I saw a lot of San Francisco. 

To give you a brief rundown of the week, I will begin with Monday morning (I had missed the impressive opening ceremonies the previous evening at City Hall, where the mayor greeted each dignitary as he or she came down the main steps, flanked by flags and national guardsmen).  I ate breakfast at the Fairmont, as I did during all succeeding days, at the most expensive breakfast room there, free of charge (all my expenses were paid).  We visited the offices of the mayor, City Attorney, recorder, registrar of voters, comptroller, the superior and municipal courts, the department of health, the hall of Justice, the department of city planning, and the redevelopment agency, and a few other departments. Mr. Sherman Duckett, chief administrative officer of City Hall, was our guide. 

The African students of the Bay Area held day “flags of the nation ceremony “(this was my baby) in Union Square. Luncheon was hosted by the press and union league club. We then visited a session of the San Francisco board of supervisors, hosted by the honorable Dr. Charles A. Ertola, who is the president of the board. That afternoon we had an information session at the world trade facilities of San Francisco,  hearing such speakers as Ralph Dewey (president, Pacific American steamship association), Cyril Magnin ( President, board of San Francisco commissioners), Paul Paul, Saint Surrey (president Pacific Maritime Association), and of course, old Harry Bridges, President of the International Longshoreman's Association.  This meeting was held in the conference room of the longshoreman’s Hall, over near Fisherman's Wharf. A short cocktail party, the first of many, immediately followed the talks. A visit and reception aboard the “Korean Bear” (Pacific Far East lines) was squeezed in just before dinner, which was at Goman's Gay 90s, and hosted by the ILA again.  The restaurant food was not too hot, and the entertainment was lousy, but I managed to get a seat next to Harry, and across from his wife, so things weren’t boring, what with pictures flashing every minute or so, and nice looking thugs coming in to pat him on the back every 10 seconds. Monday was quite a day.

Tuesday,  “ trade and investment day”, was devoted entirely to panel, discussions, TV and radio appearances, and lectures, so I’m merely met the late comers at the airport, drove them around, kept everybody happy in general, and heard a few talks for myself. Lunch was at the Room of the Don in the Mark Hopkins, and dinner was at Mrs. Kerr's over at Cal, Where Art Spiegel and I had arranged a discussion section between a few of the Africans and a few students. 

Education Day was Wednesday's label, so we visited a lot of schools, public and private, and heard talks by Dr. Spears, Reverend Foudy, and a few teachers. Most of my day was devoted to driving the ambassador from Morocco to the “Lighthouse for the Blind” and related social organizations, because this guy was interested in that kind of stuff. I spent the evening with him and a Mr. and Mrs. Debrah from Nigeria at a private home in Napa. Mr. Debrah, by the way, said I looked familiar, and further discussion revealed that Len had escorted him from the train station to the school when he had visited Wesleyan last year. Coincidence, much? I also used up a lot of time driving Mrs. Ogunilesi, from Nigeria, all over the city. She was full of pep.

Thursday was “California day”, and consisted for the most part of tours. We visited the Chronicle, RCA Communication Center, KPIX, Pacific Telephone long distance facilities, and a few other places. Lunch was in the Venetian Room of the Fairmont, with Governor Brown the guest of honor. I had the privilege of escorting him from his car to the speaker stand, and wait till you see the picture of me shaking his hand. Don’t tell me I don’t know how to squeeze in.  We kicked around the museums and art galleries, saw the ballet during rehearsal, and took Africans on social tours they had requested. That evening Wachuku flew west from New York to give a special talk for the week in Grace Cathedral. By this time, a lot of our guests, about 15 I would say, had left prematurely for New York because of the Hammarskjold crisis.  Saturday we spent the entire day at the Christian brothers winery in Napa Valley. That was really great. I now have three bottles of champagne in my car. Saturday evening the farewell banquet was held in the Florentine room at the Fairmont, and then everybody went to the seashore. I stayed, incidentally, at an apartment with Jim Haas during the entire week, so my expenses were nil.

Saturday night I spent with Jim Haas at his home in Menlo.  Sunday I registered at Stanford, school started Tuesday, and I was now in my room in Stern Hall, with a week of school behind me. I am taking two math courses, Higher Geometry, and Introduction to the Theory of a Complex Variable, a philosophy course by Mothershed with a lot of reading, and the Honors Humanities course with 16 required texts. I should be busy. I have again signed up for soccer, which is Monday through Friday, and I’m also working on the Africa Desk, again as head of the graduate placement division. Just to keep me well rounded, you understand. I have babysat for the Schlomanns twice already, although I ask and receive not a cent, because it is so quiet there, and Tiger has been getting all kinds of walks from me. He and the girls are absolutely in love with each other, by the way.  Mr. Schlomann has been gone for a week for a conference in Japan, and will not return for another two weeks. Mrs. Schlomann is attending all the PTA meetings, and seems to be enjoying herself. Our house is in good hands.

I have written Bruce and Len, but not a word from them yet. I did get cards from Jeep, you, Bert and Bob, and Pop for my birthday, and the extra $500 also came through, so that two weeks advanced when I quit was an added bonus. John, you said your secretary was taking care of your mail. Not true. I am. I am paying all bills with my own money, and keeping a complete record of them. These include telephone, Dr  and room and board bills. If I need reimbursement, I will let you know. Mom, you have received four dividends from Irving Lundborg: $10 for Friden Inc., $55 for Standard Oil of New Jersey, $50 for General Motors, and $50 for Socony Mobile Oil. What should I do with them? (my address is 35 Pine Hill, as usual, since I am handling your correspondence).  Incidentally, Boothe Leasing was bought out, and I have been advised to sell for $40 a share. That means I have $1000 in Boothe Leasing.  Not a bad profit, eh?  Boothe is now at around 38 so I should sell in a few days. I guess I’ll put it back into something else, unless Sayre says not to, since I’ll be using it so soon.

You received an invitation to attend Robert McIntyre‘s marriage to Emily Beardsley on October 12. I didn’t bother answering it, because I don’t know the rules, and Mrs. McIntyre knows where you are. Incidentally, Shelby is now a freshman here. We got another letter from our foster child, and some blanks to send more money. What should I do with them? You also received a bill from Eichler homes for $65 for floor tile work. It says $50 was paid by Eichler. Is this on the up and up?  My itinerary has been established:  I am leaving San Francisco on Saturday, December 16; I arrive in London on the 17th, fly to Geneva, and then take a train to Zermatt which arrives there 6:20 PM Sunday, December 17. If you don’t meet me, don’t worry about it. I’ll find you. Oh, yes, the termites were a false alarm.

When and if you find time to write me, please send me a detailed list of what clothes and accessories you have of mine over there, and what you have of mine packed away at the Schlomanns, so I can plan way, way ahead. I have decided, incidentally, to buy boots ready made in Zermatt, so you can breathe easier, mom. Same with skis and bindings. Bruce’s roommate's dad wrote you and offered his assistance towards Bruce whenever he needed it. I thanked him for it. He is the vice president of a bank in Worcester, Massachusetts. Nice, Bruce, real nice. My roommate is a senior and a very nice guy: Tony Lynn.  Also a fraternity hater on principal. Liberal too. We’re having a blast together. My grades were about the same as usual, with another A in English A’s and mathematics and C+ Civ.  Thank goodness Civ is out of the way..

Well, I have lots more to say, but it all has slipped my mind. All right, situations developed, and crises come and go. I am taking everything in stride, so do not fear.  

Lots and lots of love, 

Sam