Fourth Lake, Chapter 16

It was Thursday evening, August 8, 1974.  Phil and Judy had silently eaten a light dinner and drank one bottle of beer each while sitting at a table in the Laughing Loon.  When it was time to shove off in their canoe for Dollar Island, the rest of the many patrons turned to watch President Nixon address the nation on the TV above the bar. 

“Good evening.  This is the 37th time I have spoken to you from this office, where so many decisions have been made that shaped the history of this nation. Each time I have done so to discuss with you some matter that I believe affected the national interest.

In all the decisions I have made in my public life, I have always tried to do what was best for the nation. Throughout the long and difficult period of Watergate, I have felt it was my duty to persevere, to make every possible effort to complete the term of office to which you elected me.

In the past few days, however, it has become evident to me that I no longer have a strong enough political base in the Congress to justify continuing that effort. As long as there was such a base, I felt strongly that it was necessary to see the constitutional process through to its conclusion, that to do otherwise would be unfaithful to the spirit of that deliberately difficult process and a dangerously destabilizing precedent for the future.

But with the disappearance of that base, I now believe that the constitutional purpose has been served, and there is no longer a need for the process to be prolonged.

I have never been a quitter. To leave office before my term is completed is abhorrent to every instinct in my body. But as President, I must put the interest of America first. America needs a full-time President and a full-time Congress, particularly at this time with problems we face at home and abroad.

Therefore, I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon tomorrow. By taking this action, I hope that I will have hastened the start of that process of healing which is so desperately needed in America.  I regret deeply any injuries that may have been done in the course of the events that led to this decision. I would say only that if some of my judgments were wrong, and some were wrong, they were made in what I believed at the time to be the best interest of the nation.”

The stunned audience in the Laughing Loon sat in silence trying to absorb the history-making speech they had just heard.  At the same time, Phil and Judy silently paddled their canoe across Fourth Lake in the foreboding blackness of the night, unaware of Nixon’s pronouncement.  They were more concerned with other matters that more directly affected their lives.

Judy believed she was the odd person out in this love triangle since Phil knew who and what was waiting for them on Dollar Island.  He had refused to say anything, insisting that all would soon be explained.  Judy knew she had the courage to deal with anything that lay ahead of her.  She patiently waited for the unknown. 

After about fifteen minutes, Phil and Judy arrived on Dollar Island.  It was almost surreal, a place of apprehension, but one which had a strong attraction to her.  They tied their canoe to the dock on the far side of the island, away from the peering eyes of Inlet.  Phil led the way to the rear entrance of the mansion.  It was if he had been there before.  Once inside the unlocked door, Judy started paying more attention to this fantasy come true than to whom she was about to confront.  First, there was a very large ceramic-tiled kitchen with what appeared to be a brand new refrigerator, a large countertop, and a table with seating for six people.

Almost immediately after Phil and Judy left the kitchen and entered the living room, but before she could study how it was decorated, Judy was confronted by him, the man she thought she had seen in the restaurant in Old Forge and in the car in Eagle Bay.  It was the man she had not seen for many years, but a face she could never completely forget.  It was the face of the man she had first met at the Christmas party of Phil’s firm, back when he wasn’t as yet a partner.  It was Malcolm Fitzhugh, Jr.  What was he doing here in the mansion on Dollar Island and what the hell was going on?

“Good evening, Judy.  It’s nice to see you again,  It’s been a long time,” he said. 

Judy turned to Phil.  “So this is the fat, old, balding man you prefer over me.”

Phil responded.  “It’s not so simple.  We, you and I wanted a good life style and he could give it to us.  In those days, he could control who got to be partner and who wouldn’t.  I made a compromise, for us.”

“He’s lying, Judy.  He’s really the sort of man who enjoys both worlds, men and women.  Sure, I could give him what he wanted, a partnership with a prestigious firm, but he also wanted what I could give him, in bed and elsewhere.”

“That’s not true, Judy.  After one time, a sort of fling, he threatened to blackmail me.  He forced me to keep coming back.”

Judy threw up her arms.  “You guys are making me sick.  Phil, if you want me, and the kids, you’ve got to give up this cock-sucker, now, or I’m walking out that door and there’s no tomorrow.”

“Judy, let’s all be reasonable,” said Malcolm.  “It doesn’t have to be so all or nothing.  We can compromise.”

“Look, Mr. Fitzhugh, I’ve nothing to say to you.  Only to my husband, if he still wants to be my husband.”

Phil looked stunned, not knowing what to do or say.  Then he turned to Malcolm.

“Malcolm, I love you, but I love Judy and my kids more.”  He turned toward Judy perhaps looking for reassurance.  Then, Malcolm pulled a revolver out the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pointed it in the general direction of Judy.

“You’re so stupid, Phil.  You can have me and the kids.  All we have to do is eliminate Judy.  I know you want me more.”

Judy was never so frightened in her life, but she kept her cool.

“We never talked about eliminating anybody, Malcolm,” said Phil.  “That gun is only supposed to scare you, Judy.  Don’t worry.  He’s not going to shoot you.”

“Phil,” said Malcolm, “you are more than stupid.  I guess it’s just your body I love.  Your mind leaves much to be desired.”

Phil responded, “OK, Judy.  Let’s the two of us get out of here now.”

“Nobody’s leaving me,” responded Malcolm.  “I’ve invested too much time in our relationship, Phil.  You both know too much which I can’t afford to become public.  You two are going to behave exactly as I want or you’ll suffer for it.  Things will continue exactly as they have before, only now Judy knows the score and accepts it.  Right, Phil?  Right, Judy?”

“Let’s go, Judy.  I’ll never see Malcolm again.  We can make a go of it.”

A shot rang out from the gun Malcolm was holding and Phil’s lifeless body immediately slumped to the floor.  Judy shreiked. 

“I didn’t mean to do that, Judy, but I was holding the gun so tight.  It seemed to go off on its own.  I’m truly sorry.  I loved him.”

Judy knew she had to get away from Malcolm as fast as she could.  As he was blocking the way to the door she and Phil had entered, she turned and flew in the opposite direction through a hallway she hoped would lead to another exit. 

“Stop, Judy.  Please!  I don’t want to hurt you.”

Judy quickly found a large door that she hoped was the front entrance to the mansion.  She heard footsteps behind her, not moving as fast as hers.  Judy opened the unlocked door and saw the lake in front of her, lit by the moon.  Her first instinct was to run around to the other side where their canoe was tied.  Judy heard a gunshot ring out.  A miss.  Then she decided she better make herself disappear as a target.  She ran straight across the deck in front of the entrance she had just left and dove into the dark water.

Judy believed her only avenue to survival was to swim back to the other side of the lake.  After a short time, she took a chance and treaded water in order to quickly discard her boots, her top, and her shorts.  With only her bra and panties, it would be easier for her to swim the long distance she had to travel to save her life.

Unbeknownst to Judy, Malcolm had arrived at Dollar Island having hired a boat taxi from Eagle Bay.  He had no immediate way of following Judy other than using the canoe she and Phil had come by.  Therefore, he ran to where they had tied it, got in, and started to paddle to the other side of the island.  He had never before done this.  The only lights that could help him find Judy were the lights from inside the mansion, the distant lights from Inlet, and of course the moon.

The chase was on, Judy in the water and Malcolm in the canoe.  As it was a calm night, Malcolm could see Judy’s splashing up ahead.  He could now focus in on a target.  Judy was swimming as best she could, stroke after stroke after stroke.  She was conflicted by not wanting to overtire herself on such a very long swim, longer than she had ever swum before, versus trying to swim as fast as she could in order to escape from a murderer hot on her trail.

Slowly, Malcolm was gaining on Judy.  He was getting closer and closer.  He decided he would do nothing until he was close enough to where he couldn’t miss.  Judy kept swimming realizing the consequences of stopping.  She couldn’t give up.  She focused on seeing her daughters again.  On the other hand, she had no idea where Malcolm was, but was not about to stop and look back.

Finally, Malcolm was close enough, he thought.  He said nothing, but stopped paddling so he could shoot straight.  The rocking of the canoe prevented him from getting a good bead on his target.  He decided it would be better to do it from a standing position.  A fatal mistake!  The canoe flipped over and into the water went Malcolm.  He went one direction, while his gun another.  Unfortunately for Malcolm, he was a non-swimmer without a life jacket.  He screamed for help.  Only Judy heard him, but she kept on swimming.

Judy was more tired than she had ever been in her life.  She was desperate to get to the beach at the other end of Fourth Lake.  She was near exhaustion, but kept swimming.  Judy didn’t want to die.  Judy wanted to live and see her daughters again.  Her energy level was nearly gone.  She started choking on water.  She slowed down appreciably.  Finally, she kind of sank into the water, but quickly realized it was very shallow.  Judy could now stand up and walk the last few yards to the beach.  And then she collapsed.  She was utterly exhausted as she lay there motionless, except for her breathing.  All she heard was some children singing in the distance.

“We welcome you to Eagle Cove.  We’re mighty glad you’re here.  We’ll set the air reverberating with a mighty cheer.  We’ll sing you in, we’ll sing you out.  And we will raise a mighty shout.  Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.  We welcome you to Eagle Cove.”

THE END

 

R Word

Eighty years ago, on December 13, 1936, the Boston franchise of the National Football League (NFL) played its last game.  The following year it would move to the nation’s capital, Washington, D. C. where it has remained ever since.  In 1933, while still in Boston, the nickname of this football team was changed from the Braves (the same as that of the local National League baseball team, now in Atlanta after a stopover in Milwaukee) to the Redskins (referring to the color of an Indian’s skin), or what I will call the “R word,” because I believe it to be both racist and offensive and in the same category as the “N word.”  The new name was the creation of the team’s owner, George Preston Marshall.

Why the R word?  Perhaps it was because the coach, “Lone Star” Dietz, was part Native American.  Or perhaps it was because there were four Native American players on the team in 1933. 

Is the R word racist?  First, let’s look at the history of its creator, Marshall.  While other NFL teams starting intergrating their rosters with black players after World War II, Marshall refused to do so until forced to in 1962.  His was the last NFL team to do so. 

“Finally, Interior Secretary Stewart Udall and Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy issued an ultimatum — unless Marshall signed a black player, the government would revoke the Redskins' 30-year lease on the year-old D.C. Stadium (now Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium), which had been paid for by government money and was owned by the Washington city government (which, then as now, is formally an arm of the federal government). Marshall's chief response was to make Ernie Davis, Syracuse's all-American running back, his number-one draft choice for 1962. Davis, however, demanded a trade, saying, "I won't play for that S.O.B.”  He got his wish, as the team sent him to Cleveland for All-Pro Bobby Mitchell. Mitchell was the first African American football player to play a game for the Redskins (R word), and he played with the team for several years.”

“Over 115 professional organizations representing civil rights, educational, athletic, and scientific experts have published resolutions or policies that state that the use of Native American names (such as the R word) and/or symbols by non-native sports teams is a harmful form of ethnic stereotyping that promote misunderstanding and prejudice which contributes to other problems faced by Native Americans.”

“Support for continued use of the name has come from the team's owners and a majority of fans, which include some Native Americans. Supporters say that the name honors the achievements and virtues of Native Americans, and that it is not intended in a negative manner.”

“On June 18, 2014, the Trademark Trial and Appeal Board voted to cancel the six trademarks held by the team in a two to one decision that held that the term "redskins" is disparaging to a "substantial composite of Native Americans", and this is demonstrated "by the near complete drop-off in usage of 'redskins' as a reference to Native Americans beginning in the 1960s."  The team retains other rights under common law, but must enforce them without Federal government assistance.”

“On July 8, 2015, District Court Judge Lee affirmed the decision of the TTAB, denying the team's summary judgment motions, finding that "the evidence before the Court supports the legal conclusion that ... the Redskin Marks consisted of matter that 'may disparage' a substantial composite of Native Americans." The decision does not bar the team from using the marks and taking other steps to protect other rights to their brand.”

Many college teams have changed their nicknames in order not to be offensive.  This would include Dartmouth College (Indians to Big Green),  Stanford University (Indians to Cardinal), and Miami University of Ohio    (R word to RedHawks). 

The management of the NFL’s Washington franchise refuses to change its nickname.  The controversy continues to swirl around the team.  Some in the media have refused to use the R word in print or over the air.  Personally, I agree with Washington Post columnist, Charles Krauthammer’s analysis: 

“Words don’t stand still. They evolve.  Fifty years ago the preferred, most respectful term for African Americans was Negro. The word appears 15 times in Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech. Negro replaced a long list of insulting words in common use during decades of public and legal discrimination.”

“And then, for complicated historical reasons (having to do with the black power and “black is beautiful” movements), usage changed. The preferred term is now black or African American. With a rare few legacy exceptions, Negro carries an unmistakably patronizing and demeaning tone.”

“Upon being informed how the word had changed in nuance, you would stop using it and choose another.  And here’s the key point: You would stop because of the word was tainted, freighted with negative connotations with which you would not want to be associated.  Proof? You wouldn’t even use the word in private, where being harassed for political incorrectness is not an issue.”

“No matter how the word (Redskins) was used 80 years ago, it carries invidious connotations today.  Why (change the name)?  Simple decency. I wouldn’t want to use a word that defines a people — living or dead, offended or not — in a most demeaning way.  It’s a question not of who or how many had their feelings hurt, but of whether you want to associate yourself with a word that, for whatever historical reason having nothing to do with you, carries inherently derogatory connotations.”

“If you shot a remake of 1934’s “The Gay Divorcee (movie),” you’d have to change that title, too.”

Recently, the Cleveland Indians baseball team decided to significantly downgrade the use of their “Chief Yahoo” logo which many consider to be offensive.  NFL Washington, please take note.  

I first became aware of the controversy many years ago when I saw a poster critical of the R word which tried to compare it with some suggested possibilities for new team names, such as the Hartford Himeys.  As a Jew, I wouldn’t be happy with that nickname, even if it had been a tradition for more than eighty years. 

 

 

 

A Nameless Girl

I don’t remember her name.  But, I do remember a lot about her.  She was a nineteen year-old sophomore at State University College at Oswego, now known as the State University of New York (SUNY) at Oswego.  She was slim and shorter than I was.  She had light brown hair, styled in the fashion of the day.  She wore glasses.  She was far from a knockout beauty, but she was more than plain.  She was a Jewish girl from Brooklyn, New York, an only child being raised by her widowed mother. 

I was also a sophomore, albeit at the University of Pennsylvania on my semester break in the winter of 1964-1965 visiting my parents in Oswego.  It must have been a Hannukah celebration at Congregation Adath Israel on East Third Street that brought us together that first time.  Normally, my mother only went there on holidays and this time the three of us went, including my father.  I think my mother mentioned there might be some female students there from the college.  There were no local Jewish girls my age. 

Before or after the religious services, some refreshments were served and I noticed her.  I acted courageously and introduced myself.  Being an Ivy Leaguer gave me some clout, or so I thought.  She seemed pleased to meet and talk to me.  I asked for her phone number and she readily gave it.  I called for a date the next night and she accepted.  Driving the family car, we went to see a movie at the Oswego Theater.  I remember it was a Disney film, Those Calloways, which starred Brian Keith, Vera Miles (The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance), and Brandon de Wilde (Shane).  When I put my right arm around her shoulders she reciprocated by stroking my right hand with her left.  Things were going well.

Afterwards, I suggested we get something to eat.  Unfortunately, the weather had taken a turn for the worst.  The roads were slick with snow and ice.  I tried to climb a road which was on an incline and the tires of the car lost traction.  Not being an experienced driver, I became frustrated when I could not get where I wanted to go.  She remained calm and supportive, which helped me get through this mini-crisis.  After a bite to eat, I returned her to her sorority house.  We agreed to write each other as she would soon return to her home in Brooklyn. 

Over the remainder of the winter months, her in Oswego and me in Philadelphia, we exchanged several letters expressing how much we looked forward to seeing each other again.  When the time came for me to return to Oswego on spring break, when she would be there, I told her in a letter that I wanted to take her out that first evening, which she agreed to.  I arrived in Oswego by lunch time.  Afterwards, I gave her a call to let her know I had arrived safely and to confirm when I would pick her up that evening.  It was about 2 PM and I thought I would see her about five hours later.

Her mood swiftly changed.  She wanted to see me right away.  She insisted that I come to see her now.  She saw no reason to postpone our getting together immediately.  As a matter of fact, I had no pressing plans.  I had just wanted to relax a little at home and rest up for our date after my flight from Philadelphia.  I also did not like her demanding that I do anything.  Perhaps she reminded me too much of my mother, another Jewish female, from whom I had escaped when I went off to college.

Not wanting to ruin our plans for the evening, I agreed to see her as she wished.  We met on campus, she showed me around a bit, and then I drove her back to her house, where she introduced me to a number of her sorority sisters and their boyfriends.  I remember sitting down on a couch and then she immediately sat down next to me, leaning into me with her head in my chest.  She introduced me to the others as her boyfriend.  I didn’t know.

I’m pretty sure we had a good time that night.  All I remember was the last fifteen minutes of our date.  We arrived at her house in my family’s car shortly before her curfew.  There were numerous other cars parked or double-parked in front.  Couples were making out.  As soon as I turned off the engine, she threw herself at me and we started heavy-duty, non-stop necking.  This was my first time.  I’m sure we were both enjoying ourselves.  When the time arrived, I walked her to the door and kissed her good night.  I never talked to her or saw her again.

When I got home that night I started thinking about the events of the day.  Sadly, in retrospect, I focused on her insisting on my coming to see her when she wanted me to as opposed to when I wanted to.  She had not said please nor implored me with longing in her voice.  In my mind, it was as if she were scolding me like I was a bad boy. 

On the other hand, I should have focused on the ecstacy I had experienced at the end of our date which could have led to more and better times in the near future.  It wasn’t like I had any other girlfriends in my life.  But what can you expect from an immature, inexperienced and dumb nineteen year-old boy? 

I decided I would never call her again.  I didn’t want anyone to treat me like she had.  But, I was a coward.  I should have talked to her face to face and calmly discussed my grievance and ask that she moderate the way she dealt with me in the future.  I should have told her that our relationship was speeding along too rapidly in my mind.  We needed to discuss what we both wanted from each other.  Instead, I just crossed her out of my life without giving her any explanation.  To that nameless girl, I would say, “I’m very sorry.”

On the other hand, my seventy year-old self would say to my nineteen year-old self, “You are so stupid.” 

The key to life is to learn from your mistakes and not repeat them.  Good luck! 

From Here to Eternity

Last month I discussed a western movie called Shane, which was nominated for four Academy Awards (Best Picture, Best Director, and two for Best Supporting Actor) which it lost to the film I want to talk about today, From Here to Eternity.  I remember being eight years-old when my family and I went to the Oswego Theater to see this hit movie, which won the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1953.  It was directed by Fred Zinnemann (won Academy Award for Best Director), and starred Montgomery Clift (nominated for Best Actor, but lost to William Holden in Stalag 17), Burt Lancaster (also nominated for Best Actor and also lost to William Holden in Stalag 17), Deborah Kerr (nominated for Best Actress, but lost to Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday), Frank Sinatra (won Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor), Donna Reed (won Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress), Philip Ober, and Ernest Borgnine.  It also won the Academy Awards for Best Writing - Screenplay, Best Cinematography (Black-and-White), and Best Film Editing (seven Academy Awards in all).

That day in 1953 I sat glued to my seat fascinated by this complicated tale of the lives of several men and women in and around the US military on the Hawaiian Island of Oahu just before the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor.  I can especially remember one scene in which Lancaster is talking on the phone, leaning up against a wall with a calendar showing the date, Saturday, December 6, 1941.  Even then, I knew what would happen the next day.

In the beginning, Private Prewitt (Clift) transfers from a mainland base to a rifle company at Schofield Barracks in Hawaii.  He previously had a reputation as a very good boxer.  As such, Prewitt’s commanding officer, Captain Holmes (Ober), tries to force him to join the company boxing team on its way to winning a championship.  As he previously blinded a friend in the ring, Prewitt has quit boxing.  However, in order to change Prewitt’s mind, Holmes encourages the team members, all non-commissioned officers, to make his life miserable by giving him a lot of extra and unnecessary duties.  Their attempts prove unsuccessful as Prewitt is determined not to box (“a hard head”).  In order to get some relaxation as a result of his ordeal, he goes with his friend Maggio (Sinatra) to a gentlemen’s club in Honolulu where he meets Lorene (Reed), whom he falls in love with.

Meanwhile, Captain Holmes’s top sargeant, Warden (Lancaster), is attracted to his boss’s wife, Karen (Kerr).  At the risk of twenty years in a military prison, Warden makes a date with Karen, who is miserable in her marriage to her unfaithful husband.  They go for a swim at night on a remote beach.  There is a scene which is perhaps the most romantic in movie history.  Your eyes take in a powerful wave rolling up the beach where Warden and Karen are lying, embraced and kissing as the wave washes over them.  They separate and he pursues her.  They kiss again and their affair blossoms, albeit in deep secrecy.      

Meanwhile, Maggio gets into trouble, picking a fight in a bar with the Sargeant of the Guard at the stockade, Fatso Judson (Borgnine).  When Maggio is later arrested for going AWOL while on guard duty, he is sentenced to six months in the stockade.  While there, Maggio is physically abused by Judson, but escapes by hiding on a truck leaving the stockade.  However, during such escape he falls off the truck and suffers fatal injuries.  Before dying, he finds his friend Prewitt and tells him of the inhuman treatment he received at the hands of Fatso Judson. 

Prewitt avenges Maggio by killing Judson in a knife fight.  However, Prewitt is seriously wounded himself and seeks refuge at the home of his girlfriend, Lorene, going AWOL.  When the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor on the day of infamy, the still-injured Prewitt, feeling guilty and desiring to join the fight against the enemy, decides he must return to his unit.  While on his way back after dark (he knows a shortcut through a golf course), and bleeding from his previously-inflicted wounds, he is shot and killed by American sentries fearing an invasion by Japanese soldiers.

In the end, Karen and Lorene meet on a cruise ship leaving Hawaii for the mainland.  Their loves are lost.  For Lorene, Prewitt is dead.  For Karen,  Warden is fighting the Japanese, while her husband, whom she will grudgingly stay with, was forced to resign from the Army because of his ill-treatment of Prewitt.  Ironically, the boxing tournament he was so keen on winning was cancelled because of the war.