The Charlotte News

Tuesday, June 26, 1956

FOUR EDITORIALS

Site Ed. Note: The front page reports that the largest road-building program in the nation's history, to cost 33 billion dollars, had been passed by the House this date, together with a higher 14.8 billion tax bill for the ensuing 16 years to pay for the 13-year construction program. The joint conference report, which had compromised differences in the two bills, had been passed by voice vote in the House without debate and was now set to be approved by the Senate. Representative George Fallon of Maryland, author of the measure, had described it as permitting the American people to ride safely "upon many thousands of miles of broad, straight, trouble-free roads, four to eight lanes wide, criss-crossing America from coast to coast and border to border." Republican leaders said that they believed the President would go along with additional taxes to get a road-building program which he had marked as urgent. Keystone of the program was the 41,000-mile interstate system, crucial to the country's defense by allowing mobility of forces during a time of attack, and set to cost 27.5 billion of the total, with the Federal Government paying 24.825 billion dollars or 90 percent of the cost, while the states would pay for the remainder. The system would connect to 42 state capitals and 90 percent of all cities of more than 50,000 population. The House and Senate had disagreed over the method of distributing the money for the system among the states, with the confreres having reached a compromise whereby for the first three years, the regular formula or regular Federal aid to roads, based on population, area and rural road mileage, would be followed, while for the remaining ten years, the states would obtain what they needed to complete their sections of the system.

Before the Senate Investigations subcommittee, Maxwell Rabb, secretary to the Cabinet, had declined to testify, with Senator McCarthy calling his refusal "inexcusably arrogant" and ought be punished as contempt. He had sent word to the subcommittee that he could not add anything to his denial of the previous day that either he or any of his staff had leaked official documents to author Robert J. Donovan, and so declined to comply with the invitation of the subcommittee to make a statement under oath. The subcommittee was seeking to determine how Mr. Donovan had obtained "secret documents and materials" about Cabinet meetings for a book he had written about the Administration. Senator John McClellan of Arkansas, chairman of the subcommittee, did not immediately rule on Senator McCarthy's demand that the subcommittee subpoena Mr. Rabb. The Senator said that the subcommittee ought do so and determine the punishment if he again declined to testify, without referring the case to the Justice Department.

In Guatemala City, El Presidente Carlos Castillo Armas had put the Army in control of the country this date after demonstrations the previous night on the capital's main street against a Government crackdown on Communist agitation, in which four students had been killed and 17 wounded. The police had fired submachine guns and pistols into the several hundred students who had been marching toward the Government palace. About half of the marchers had been female. They had been protesting curtailment of civil liberties under a "state of alarm" imposed by El Presidente on Sunday, with the Government charging the students with spreading Communist propaganda. Officials had sent a warning message to the students that they would be "swept from the streets" if they attempted to stage a protest. The witness said that a detachment of about 20 policemen, assembled across the avenue from a movie theater, had ordered the marchers to halt, then fired into the air, and, when the students continued to advance, singing the national anthem, they had started firing into the crowd, as police reinforcements had rushed up, with some firing pistols and others, submachine guns, prompting the students to run into doorways and behind parked cars for cover. In declaring a "state of siege", which suspended all constitutional guarantees for 30 days and imposed military censorship, El Presidente asked for the cooperation of the people to avoid further clashes. A curfew was also imposed, military patrols had taken over police activities, and all radio stations had been seized by the Government on the basis of a necessity "to maintain order because of Communist agitation". The Government also ordered censorship of news dispatches sent abroad.

In Rio de Janeiro, the Brazilian Government announced this date that it had broken up a plot to assassinate President Juscelino Kubitschek, arresting an Albanian citizen. The President said that the only action which would be taken against the arrested man would be to expel him, and he deplored the publicity given to the incident. The man under arrest was held incommunicado and authorities refused to say what his motivation had been for the plot.

The cost of living had risen sharply in May, sending the Government's index to a level equaling the all-time peak of October, 1953, with the Labor Department's Bureau of Statistics reporting that the index had risen four-tenths of a percent, to 115.4 percent of the 1947-49 base period, 1.1 percent above May of the previous year. Food prices had registered their greatest increase for any month since June, 1953, rising 1.3 percent, though food still remained below the previous year's level and nearly 5 percent below that of August, 1952, the high point for food prices. Labor Department officials had called the jump in the cost of living "unexpectedly large" and said that food prices probably would go higher during the summer until the fall harvests. They had also said that the index might achieve a new record level when June data became available the following month. The index had been rising steadily since the previous February, with food prices firming up while cost of other consumer goods and services had been gradually rising.

In Chicago, a man carrying two guns had robbed a bank on the Loop of $4,300 this date, but had been captured a few minutes later when two police officers chased him into the arms of a Federal narcotics agent from Miami, in town to testify at a hearing.

Emery Wister of The News tells of a hotel operator in the nation's capital having announced that there would be three Holiday Inns erected in and around Charlotte, with a fourth possibly coming later. The total investment would be two million dollars. One would be built on the new Highway South 29, another south of the city and the third in the center of the city, with the potential fourth being in the vicinity of the new Charlotte Coliseum. The downtown inn would be the largest in the city, with 120 rooms, and the other two inns would have 60 each, each to be of modern design in keeping with other Holiday Inns, fast becoming one of the finest motel chains in the South. The operator of the chain said that the Charlotte motels would compare favorably to the Holiday Inn at Myrtle Beach and the Betsy Ross Inn in Fayetteville, both of which his firm also operated, along with the 600-room Hotel 2400 in Washington. Reckon those rooms will be air-conditioned and each floor 'll have an ice machine and a soft drink machine, maybe even a candy machine?

In Charlotte, County Commission member Sam McNinch this date said that he would ask the County Drainage Commission to clear Little Hope Creek, in an effort to reduce its obnoxious odors emanating from chemical waste drained into the creek from nearby firms. The announcement came as a result of the previous day's two-hour tour of the creek and the industrial plants along Pineville Road, finding that the creek was clogged with brush and huge rocks, preventing the free flow of water, with the resulting stagnancy producing strong, offensive odors. The Commission chairman, Sid McAden, expressed doubt, however, that the Drainage Commission would have the legal authority to dredge the stream. Meanwhile, the County still was without the legal means to stop pollution of the stream.

Charles Kuralt of The News reports from Shelby that the coroner's inquest into the death of a man who had stepped out of a plane after telling his newlywed bride that he was going to the restroom, then falling to his death, had failed to solve the mystery of what had caused him to mistake the exit door of the aircraft for the restroom door. One passenger on the plane, who had been sitting across the aisle from the door out of which the man had fallen, had testified that he felt the wind rushing into the plane and saw a man's head and two upraised arms and the plane's door, then saw his feet or knees or ankles, and the man trying to grasp the side of the airplane, stating that he had not seen the door open. He said that he had gotten up to try to help him but that by the time he got there, he was gone, taking only two or three seconds to fall out. His bride had testified only briefly, apparently not having seen her husband fall. Following four hours of testimony, the coroner's jury ultimately was unable to determine how or why the deceased had fallen from the Piedmont airliner, which had just taken off from the Charlotte Municipal Airport and was flying at 6,500 feet over Cleveland County at the time of the mishap. The hearing was held before television cameras and had taken on the trappings of a full-fledged trial, with the plane's purser having been on the witness stand for nearly an hour, asked detailed questions about his location on the plane when the door had come open and about the door mechanism, with the attorney for the dead man's estate emphasizing that the door carried no warning sign to passengers. The purser emphasized that the "Fasten Seat Belts" sign was on at the time the door had flown open. He had been in the cockpit asking the pilot a question about the weather at the request of a passenger, when he heard a "swoosh" from the cabin, and the copilot had jumped from his seat after noticing a red warning light indicating that a door was ajar. The two had escorted a female passenger from the lavatory past the open door and then a passenger told him that someone had fallen out of the plane. The man's bride was looking at the purser with a shocked look and he then walked up beside her and she started crying, whereupon he sat down and she held his wrist with one hand and then reached in her bag and took out the marriage license and showed it to him. He sat for a few minutes holding her hand. He said that the woman had smelled pretty strongly of alcohol.

Eddie Gilmore writes from London that former President Truman, visiting the tombs of Britain's great this date, had said that he wanted a short epitaph on his grave: "He done his damnedest." During the tour through St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, the former President visited the tombs of the Duke of Wellington, Admiral Lord Nelson, Charles Dickens, Prime Minister Gladstone and others. At the Abbey, he had stared down at the cold stone floor and commented: "Frankly, I'd rather be under the ground than under a stone floor like this. It would be a lot easier to get out when the great horn blows." He stood silently for several minutes before a tablet in St. Paul's erected to an American airman, William Meade Lindsley Fiske III, with a guide explaining that the latter had served with the Royal Air Force and was the first U.S. officer in Britain killed in World War II, having died on August 6, 1940. Mr. Truman had started his day with a walk along the River Thames, during which no one had recognized him, prompting him to comment with a laugh that it was inevitable, that he supposed they were forgetting him. His idea for his epitaph had recalled a controversy he had once caused near the end of his time as President, when he had told a group of the nation's editors that he had once seen a tombstone in Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, Ariz., which had read: "Here lies Jack Williams,/ He done his damnedest." The President had remarked at the time that it was the greatest epitaph a man could have and that he had "done his damnedest" to be a good President. Subsequently, there had been a dispute as to whether there ever had been such a tombstone in Tombstone, with some old-time residents contending that there was no such inscription, while others claimed to have seen it, erected to the memory of a lawyer many years earlier.

In Akron, O., a police sergeant had found a parakeet to be a dirty bird, after he had set out the previous day on a test drive of a new police cruiser, confronting a large Cadillac driven by a 47-year old woman with a caged parakeet name "Francie" aboard, when suddenly the parakeet escaped from its cage, at which point the woman lunged for the bird and her car then swerved across the road crashing into the new cruiser of the police sergeant, squashing it against a guardrail. The sergeant said that he had not yet decided what charges he would file, but that there certainly would be a charge, as he found the woman "more worried about the parakeet than what she did to the cruiser."

Be sure to go to the Coliseum tonight at 9:00.

On the editorial page, "After Derby Day, a Secret Reward" tells of the 1956 Charlotte Soap Box Derby to be conducted the following day on Hawthorne Lane Extension, in which many youngsters would have their first big test of determination.

It indicates that it was not easy to build one of the racers, requiring skill and ability to work with tools, plus some knowledge of how to squeeze everything which could be squeezed out of pure gravity, requiring resolution and grit to see the job to conclusion.

There was a reward, partly the pride of accomplishment and the thrill of competitive enterprise, with the true reward reaped later from the benefits of the strength of character which had begun developing very slowly in the loneliness of a deserted garage or backyard. "One might even call it the first flicker of manhood."

"The Good Old Congratulatory Message" indicates that Ralph Gardner had sent Basil Whitener a congratulatory message after the latter had won the runoff primary for the Democratic nomination for the 11th Congressional District seat, finding it the usual practice, even after hard-fought campaigns in which each candidate charged the other with some "new low". Sooner or later, the congratulatory message would issue to erase the temper and harsh words of the campaign.

"These messages are the end pieces of all political brawls, and few winners are too corrupt or inept to receive them. The loser, even if he was hooked or crooked, is supposed to send the message, paving the way for renewal of community harmony and good fellowship." Newspapers, particularly those which had supported the loser, usually printed the loser's congratulatory statement, elaborated on the expression of good will and then urged the citizenry to unite behind the winner.

It finds no harm in that practice, except that it overlooked the stubbornness of human nature, that people who took politics seriously did not mind being good losers but did not like to be rushed into it, and wanted to be bad losers for awhile. The Atlanta Constitution had been educated on the point several years earlier, when, following a landslide for Herman Talmadge, it had called on the anti-Talmadge forces to come out of their tents and cease sulking, only to receive a reply from a woman in south Georgia, who said: "I am in my tent with the flaps tied. I'm sulking and I'm gonna stay in here. I've been fighting the Talmadges—and losing—all my life, and I certainly intend to exercise my privilege of sulking in my tent as long as I like."

The piece finds it a legitimate point, that it was fine for a losing candidate to send the winner a congratulatory message, but that he ought not ask his supporters to give up the pleasure of nursing their grudges for a week or two.

We are not going to elaborate to any degree on the irony vis-à-vis the present, with the Trumpies nursing their grudges thus far for over 2 1/2 years, to the point that many of them are bound for prison for their unremitting adulation of His Grace, Die Meistersinger, Il Duce. In contrast, it was highly appropriate, under the circumstances, for supporters of Vice-President Al Gore in 2000 to hold some degree of a lasting grudge against the plainly stolen election of that year, which Mr. Gore won by 500,000 popular votes, only to lose the electoral college by dint of the Supreme Court and its conservative five-member majority having called a halt to the recount of the votes in certain Florida counties, delivering the election to Governor Bush by slightly more than 500 popular votes in that state. Nevertheless, Mr. Gore was quite gracious after that decision and even presided over the counting of the electoral college votes and certification of same, eschewing in the process challenges to some of those votes. No one sought to twist the arm of the Florida secretary of state to change the result and certify the electors for Vice-President Gore, except through proper court processes authorized by state law and conducted by the lawyers for the campaign. No one went to the Capitol and tried to storm the proceedings to stop the count of the electoral votes, like a bunch of morons from the sticks who had never been to town before or read a book about the American electoral system or possibly any book other than Mein Kampf. Moreover, Vice-President Gore was present at the Capitol on January 20, 2001, in the rain, for the inauguration and swearing in of President Bush. The Vice-President had conceded following the Supreme Court decision and wished Mr. Bush well in his new Presidency.

Yet, in 2021, notwithstanding a seven million popular vote victory for President Biden and as much of an electoral college victory as won by Trump in 2016, then deemed by the Trumpies a "landslide" despite losing the popular vote by three million...

"Was Michelangelo a Socialist?" expects the U.S. Information Agency soon to start asking such questions as whether Rembrandt van Rijn had been soft on atheism and whether Paul Gauguin had believed in integration, as some weeks earlier, it had bullied an Australian exhibition of American paintings on the subject of sports into cancellation because extremists claimed that some of the artists had once had associations with Communist-front organizations. The USIA was also now withdrawing its sponsorship of a collection of 100 major works by contemporary American artists, to have gone to several European countries, because some of them were "unacceptable" for political reasons.

The American Federation of Arts, which had selected the artists and put the show together, had refused to participate if any paintings were barred by the Government, indicating: "Art should be judged on its merits … and not by the political or social views of the artists." The piece agrees with that statement and finds that the USIA had done America's reputation for intellectual freedom great harm by attempting to judge art on the basis of its propaganda value and rating artists on the basis of political orthodoxy.

It refers USIA to a quote from a contemporary American painter, President Eisenhower: "Freedom of the arts is a basic freedom, one of the pillars of liberty in our land… But, my friends, how different it is in tyranny. When artists are made the slaves and the tools of the state, when artists become the chief propagandists of a cause, progress is arrested and creation and genius are destroyed."

"The Toughness Was Not Hidebound" finds the death the previous day of Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King to have been that of a man who was nearly legendary in the Navy which he had served so well for so long, that he had an "enlightened toughness" coming from the necessity of three wars and his high personal courage. He had helped to build and later direct the mightiest sea force the world had ever known. He had known the Navy from stem to stern and loved it. But he was no old-fashioned seadog, or a hidebound traditionalist, rather had envisioned a Navy streamlined for modern warfare. At age 48, he had won his wings and had spent 12 years in Naval aviation. "His enlightened toughness will be missed by the Navy and the nation."

A piece by William Nelson from the Wichita Eagle, titled "The Hemingway Mystery", indicates that the same people who had sought to prove that William Shakespeare's works had actually been written by Christopher Marlowe were persisting in like errors by admitting that Ernest Hemingway, who had never gone to college, had actually written the novels attributed to him.

But Mr. Nelson begs to differ, believing that Ambrose Bierce, whose disappearance or death had never been adequately explained, had actually gone underground and become a member of the Mugwumps Party, and, fearing chastisement from Theodore Roosevelt's Big Stick, had fled to Mexico where he had written Mr. Hemingway's novels.

He suggests that there would be those who would say there was no evidence to support the theory, but Calvin Hoffman, the New York critic who had sought to prove Marlowe's authorship by looking in the latter's tomb for the manuscripts attributed to Shakespeare, had taken care of them and their "pettifogging objections". He says he realized that it left Mr. Hemingway with nothing to do, but it was easily explained, as the poems of Hart Crane, who had never finished high school, had actually been written by Mr. Hemingway.

He is certain that someday someone would open an old Aztec tomb and find Mr. Bierce's manuscripts of Mr. Hemingway's novels and Mr. Hemingway's manuscripts of Mr. Crane's poems. Perhaps, since William Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily" had never been adequately explained, it was actually the writing of Emily Dickinson, who had then penned all of Mr. Faulkner's major works. He concludes that it was to be hoped that the tomb would be quickly found and the second greatest literary hoax resolved.

Drew Pearson indicates that on June 7, the day before the President had become ill with ileitis, an incident had occurred which bore on the question of whether those around him had been keeping from the public the true facts about his health, perhaps even from the President, himself. Maj. General Howard Snyder, the President's personal physician, had demanded that Mr. Pearson's column suppress news that the White House had been given an emergency oxygen inhalator to be carried in the President's car or on his plane. By itself, it was not important, but when linked with other deceptive statements by Dr. Snyder, such as the suppression of any word about ileitis during his "head to toe" medical report, it suggested that those around the President were doing what Democrats had done regarding President Wilson and President Franklin Roosevelt when those two had been ill in 1919 and 1944, respectively.

When he had learned of the emergency inhalator being supplied to the White House, he had asked his junior partner, Jack Anderson, to check on the details, and the latter had talked to Donald Demarest, a salesman for the inhalator company, confirming that it had provided an inhalator valued at $117.50 to the President on the encouragement of Dr. Paul White, the Boston heart specialist, following the President's September heart attack. Later, Mr. Demarest had telephoned the column to say that General Snyder wanted Mr. Anderson to call him, which Mr. Anderson promptly had done, and Dr. Snyder said that he did not want any publicity surrounding the oxygen inhalator, demanding to know where he had received the information. Mr. Anderson had refused to provide his source and also said it was not his decision as to whether the story would be used, that it would be up to Mr. Pearson. Dr. Snyder said that it would harm the President if the information were released to the public, that the Democrats would suggest that it gave the impression that the President needed oxygen inhalators, and thus it would be better not to say anything about it. Mr. Anderson said that he would provide a report to Mr. Pearson and Dr. Snyder shouted that he could not quote him about the matter. Mr. Anderson objected that it had been the doctor who had called him and that nothing had been said about the conversation being off the record, that when a public official called a reporter to volunteer his statement or an explanation, it was not off the record. Dr. Snyder replied for him to go ahead and use the story, that he had a witness present and hung up. A few hours later, the President had been stricken with ileitis and rushed to the hospital for the emergency surgery in the wee hours of the morning.

Mr. Pearson says that initially he had decided to accede to the request of Dr. Snyder, but in reviewing the conflicting, confusing statements the doctor had made about the President's health, his attempt to suppress that relatively unimportant news item had become an important part of the overall suppression picture, and so was being published so that the public could judge whether both it and perhaps the President, himself, were being denied the true facts about his health, that of the most important government leader in the world.

Marquis Childs discusses the time for the start of the House and Senate campaigns being about two to three months away, causing restiveness among members in the last month or so of the session, with both medical and political doubts looming, leaving many members of both parties resigned to the "do it yourself" movement. The Republican strategy had largely been centered on giving the President a Congress of his own party, riding the coattails of the popular President, but the President's recent attack of ileitis and consequent surgery, after his heart attack of the prior September, had placed those plans in jeopardy, producing gloom among those who had counted on a landslide for the President to pull them through.

Meanwhile, Democrats were concerned about the uncertainty produced by questions concerning the earlier uproar over campaign contributions and their sources, especially the free-spending of the natural gas lobby, making Democrats leery of receiving such funding.

Shortly before his death the prior April, genial Senator Alben Barkley had agreed to be chairman of the Senate campaign committee with the proviso that he would not raise funds. After a long search for a replacement, Senator George Smathers of Florida had finally agreed to serve, with Senator Hubert Humphrey as vice chair, and most of the hard work to be done by the former secretary of the Senate Leslie Biffle. But the Democrats had little money and their national organization rumbled with discontent regarding the tactics of DNC chairman Paul Butler, with personal feuding in key states such as Kentucky raising further doubts.

All of it on both sides lent to the "do it yourself" trend, giving incumbents a great advantage. Each member would need to look homeward for support from those for whom favors had been done, while sending campaign literature out for free under the Congressional franking privilege. The Republicans were thus concerned that despite the expected resounding Eisenhower victory, both houses might remain in Democratic control—as would be the case. That would make him the first incumbent President to fail to carry the Senate and House with him in winning re-election, a blow to his prestige, resulting in four more years of confusion and division which had marked the relations of the 84th Congress with the executive branch.

Senators and Representatives were despairing as to whether the grueling campaign would be worth it. "The price of politics is high and the miracle is that there are always those who are ready to pay it."

Doris Fleeson tells of the President's signature, in the wake of his illness, having come under scrutiny by handwriting analyst Herry O. Teltscher, whose book, Handwriting, was in its fourth edition. His analysis of the President's signature on a bill on June 12, four days after his surgery, had determined that it had "many depressive features", smaller than in the past, showing features characteristic of people who were "depressed and uncertain about their future". In a recent article for Coronet, in collaboration with Dr. W. G. Eliasburg, a psychiatrist, Mr. Teltscher had found that the President's handwriting exhibited more pressure, with the strikes descending, the capitals more indistinct, and appearing disjointed. He concluded that he was "still a weary and often tense man."

Both General Eisenhower and Governor Adlai Stevenson had received excellent reviews from him for their 1952 handwriting, but Mr. Stevenson had not provided an exemplar for public viewing recently.

In his book, Mr. Teltscher had provided analyses of several prominent statesmen, including John Foster Dulles, the review of whose handwriting Ms. Fleeson describes as having been "so dim a view the secretary of state might well be tempted to go once more to the brink of war—with the handwriting experts."

In August, 1948, Mr. Teltscher had examined the handwriting of President Truman and found its "simplicity, balance, persistence" to be suggestive that he might "surprise those 'experts' who have failed to comprehend the President's versatile character." Ms. Fleeson concludes that Mr. Truman had surprised the experts by winning the 1948 election despite nearly all of the polls predicting the contrary.

The question, of course, remains as to who among them best saw the handwriting on the wall—of which we provided an exceptional example that very summer at our grandparents' home, along the stairway leading from the foyer to the second floor, not entirely pleasing to the graphological analysts at hand, not able to comprehend the augury inherent in proper discernment to be gleaned from the meticulously inscribed squiggles tending in slouch toward semiotics, but very much so to our developing sense of aesthetic appreciation for the individual expression achieved by lasting entablature applied to the extant lathwork in frieze serving as the inviting blank canvas in need of supplemental adornment, as if in fresco, through determined industry in pursuit of the wax arts performed in eclectic arrangement from among the eight or sixteen different wavelengths available on the spectral array for the Sketchbook we were then engaged assiduously in developing, a latterday derivative of abstract impressionism, or extract of excruciation from within the crucible of ontological discovery, which would have been fully discerned and greeted, had their presence been recorded, with utmost approbation by the likes of Dali or Chagall, whose works we were desperately seeking to emulate, no doubt subsconsciously, in our budding engagement with the plastic media, not at all susceptible to interpretation by the unwashed, of which soon our enduring chef d'oeuvre was to be, as if an unwritten work, vanished with the never existing, as surely as the prehensile appendages associated with man's ancestral forebears, a most lamentable downgoing, hence the conscious selection of the locus for display.

Robert C. Ruark, in Palamos, Spain, indicates that it was pleasant to see that during the recent visit to the U.S., no one had stopped Indonesian President Sukarno, ordered him stripped and frisked, or suggested at the point of a machinegun that his camera would look better on the gun-toter than on Dr. Sukarno. He finds it also pleasant that no one had taken a potshot at him from an ambuscade while suffering the delusion that he was Chinese, and that no one had scribbled hateful signs on his hotel door or screamed rude remarks at him from the airplane tarmac. He found it charming that the U.S. had exchanged his money at the legal rate and that if he had not spent it all, would have allowed him to exchange it back into rupeahs, that there was not one exchange rate at the port of entry and a different, legal one in town, and then double that in the black market from every cab driver and gun-toting cop one met on the street.

For that is what would have happened to the innocent tourist in Djakarta, as Mr. Ruark had been there three times during the previous two years, to the point where he did not go ashore anymore. No one came to Djakarta to steal the country, the average tourist only wanting to rubberneck and perhaps spot a native babe, spend a buck and snap a picture, then go back to the plane or ship with a cheap sarong, a bad batik, a carved head, and no more. He proceeds to explain how the Indonesians worked the exchange rate in accordance with what he had already described, making it difficult to spend any money there because of the constant interruptions by the gun-toters, keeping the tourist so busy dressing and undressing while they searched, "and rudely, too", that there was little time to shop. An Australian friend of Mr. Ruark had been stripped three times in two hours, had received a gun in front of his nose while the toter admired his camera, eventually taking it. The cops on the docks hijacked their own people who were trying to sell things to the tourists on board the ship, with the cop taking the cigarettes received in exchange for some bauble and then smoking them.

The Dutch were leaving Indonesia in swarms, as were the Australians, because it was nerve-wracking to find a fresh threat scrawled on one's door every morning. He had been advised by an Indonesian not to accept the kind invitation of another Indonesian, very highly placed, to have a look at the bush, being warned that he had a white face and that no man with a gun in the bush would bother to inquire whether he was Dutch.

An Indonesian who was of ambassadorial rank had deplored the behavior of his own people toward foreigners and to each other, but said that they were too young in democracy to know any better. Mr. Ruark says they were not too young to have five major political parties, of which the Partei Komunis Indonesia was on a nearly level basis with the Partei Nasional Indonesia, aligned against the Moslem Masjumi, the Natadul Ulama and Partai Sesialis.

He supposes that after the present piece, he would never be allowed back into Indonesia, but could care less, concluding that it was nice that no one had made President Sukarno "take down his pants to see if he'd smuggled any guns into America."

Framed Edition
[Return to Links
Page by Subject] [Return to Links-Page by Date] [Return to News<i><i><i>—</i></i></i>Framed Edition]
Links-Date Links-Subj.