Harry’s wrap of ’50s Pentagon memories – Part 4

Here’s the last of Harry’s pages of notes in his computer files on the Pentagon publishing operation in the 1950s. They were last edited March 3, 2010, although that could be the date he reorganized the files. These reflections follow the previous three posts on this blog. Together they reveal a snapshot of our father who carpooled to the Pentagon when my brother and I were very young. 


By the end of the 1950s, we had pretty much achieved some stability in the Current News operation. The Air Staff had established a printing plant next door to our office and, by written agreement, had assigned top priority to printing the Current News. I kept that written agreement handy because I frequently had to use it to shout down some Air Force Colonel who wanted his stuff, whatever it was, printed ahead of the Current News. Anyway, we were distributing between 400 and 500 copies to the Air Force – both the civilian and military staffs – and another 300 to 400 to Office of Secretary of Defense, Joint Staff, Army, Navy and Marine Corps. 

Random photos on this page from ’60s and ’70s

Aside from the military services, we were also giving about 100 copies a day to the other Defense Agencies, such as Defense Intelligence Agency, Defense Logistics Agency, DARPA, etc. We were printing the front page of the morning edition, which we now called the Early Bird, in yellow paper to distinguish it from all other papers on the peoples’ desks. We had also started printing a main edition. The Early Bird had, since the very beginning, come out at 6:00 a.m., so that the chauffeur could get a copy when he went to pick up the Secretary of the Air Force in the morning. The Secretary would read it on the way to work and by the time he got there his juices would be flowing freely. By 1960, the Secretary of the Army, Secretary of Navy and Secretary of Defense all made the same arrangements. This aspect of our distribution problem became a real headache as time went by and demand grew. But more on that later.

In order to meet our 6:00 a.m. deadline for production, we had to start screening and clipping around 2:00 a.m. This is where the work became an adventure. We could get the Washington Post okay – the first edition came out around midnight and was available to the Post’s loading dock then – likewise the Wall Street Journal, which was also printed locally. Fortunately, we had people on our staff who volunteered to start work at 1:00 a.m. and fetch those papers. For a while, several of us took turns doing it – a terrible chore for me about once every two weeks – but in 1961, when Leon Simms came aboard, he took over that job permanently – Leon, a man for all seasons. More about him later.

The out-of-town papers were another matter. Most East Coast papers came to Washington by truck – from Boston the Boston Globe and the Christian Science Monitor; from New York the NY Times, the Long Island Newsday, the NY Daily News (afternoon) – also the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Baltimore Sun, and from the South the Richmond Times Dispatch, the Atlanta Constitution, and a few others I can’t recall at the moment. They all arrived at an out-of-town newsstand in Bladensburg (border between D.C. and Prince Georges County in Maryland – a scary neighborhood around 4:00 a.m.) We also took turns picking them up until Leon took over.

My mom (blue dress) attended many Pentagon events

I should also mention that the LA Times and the San Francisco Chronicle came to National Airport on the red-eye flights around 6:00 a.m., and we made arrangements to have them delivered to us by about 7, so those papers, and Washington’s afternoon papers – the Times Herald and the Daily News, all went in the Main Edition which came out at noon. By that time, Sgt Earley had retired [she was the namesake for the original Early Bird], I still had several (three or four) enlisted personnel working for me, and we still had three or four officers from Major to full Colonel in the office whose main job was writing speeches and congressional testimony for the Secretary. That was an activity that Murray Green and I both were actively involved in and for which we needed Top Security Clearances.  

I seem to recall that I had to be re-investigated and re-cleared every five years or so. Also, every two years or so we got a new Colonel in charge of the office. We got two kinds of Colonels – either it was his last active duty assignment before retiring or it was his best assignment on his way up the ladder – a prestige job working for the Secretary. Every one of them was a sharp, intelligent, top-notch guy.

So, we had two deadlines a day and the situation was fairly stable – except during snow storms and really bad weather when the trucks didn’t get to Washington on time – occasionally hours late. I remember (sidebar here) when truck drivers were mad about the 55 mph speed limit that was imposed nationally – 1973 was it?? – so coming in from the north on the NJ Turnpike they breezed along three abreast blocking the whole road so nobody could pass them and came in two or three hours late. This went on for weeks until they were finally permitted to speed on the turnpike without getting ticketed. Anyway, everything changed in 1961, when Kennedy came into office and McNamara came in as Secretary of Defense and Gene Zuckert came back as Secretary of the Air Force. 
   
When Zuckert came back, he greeted me as an old friend. I told him I was especially glad to see him come back because, while he was number one on the roster of Office of the Secretary of the Air Force personnel, it was also true that he followed right behind me on the alphabetical roster, which meant he was also last – sort of like George Washington, first and last in the hearts of his countrymen. One of the first things he did was fire the Administrative Assistant, my boss John McLaughlin. After John, there were a number of Administrative Assistants – Phil Curran, Tom Nelson, Joe Hochreiter, John Lang and Bob McCormick. I got along well with all of them, but it was an efficiency expert who was brought in some time in the late 1960s to examine the workings of the Secretariat, who jolted me by saying that the reason I got along well with my bosses was because they made a special effort to get along with me. More on that later.

(Although Harry ends with "More on that later," I haven't come across further reflections in his old files. If I get my hands on more, I'll let you know. You can get an overview of his years at the Pentagon in the book "Distorting Defense, Network News and National Security" by Stephen P. Aubin. )
     
Copyright 2017, Elaine Blackman

Rhymes for the bosses, with words of wisdom in all

Before the computer era, my dad saved some of his drafts, like this one showing handwritten edits on the final poem on this page. I consider them a gift to future generations of our family. So, my advice to others: try to be kind when your parents want to keep so many boxes full of memorabilia each time they downsize their homes.

Most of Harry's family and friends knew nothing about his reputation as a poet throughout his 36-year career in the Defense Department. So here's a taste of why he was dubbed the "Pentagon Poet Laureate." I selected three bosses because I remember my dad talking about them.


To Harold Brown, Secretary of Defense, 1977 – 1981

Before he was Secretary of Defense, Harold Brown was Secretary of the Air Force. Harry must've written this poem when Brown left in 1969.

The Secretary’s role is not so easy to define,
He keeps the programmed forces and the budget all in line,
He formulates the policies, and analyzes trends,
In short, it’s not a job in which to make a lot of friends!

His mind must be receptive to a host of different things,
From the nuts and bolts, the details, to the systems’ functionings,
On which to base decisions that result in strategies,
In short, it isn’t hard to make a lot of enemies.

And yet, throughout your tenure, you have won our deep respect,
For pronouncements and decisions, both direct and circumspect,
You have helped to shape the nature of the future generation,
And in doing so have fully earned our deepest admiration.

But even more importantly, please bear this thought in mind,
You have left a goodly host of U.S. Air Force friends behind,
And somehow we look forward to a brighter future, when
You’ll return once more to government, and we will meet again.

Harry was right! In this letter, dated December 30, 1976, he welcomed back his boss:

Dear Dr. Brown:

When you left, almost eight years ago, you may recall that I wrote you a little farewell poem. It is only fitting, therefore, that I write a welcome-home poem now. So:

On behalf of those who populate the Pentagonic maze,
Who occupy the back rooms half the nights and all the days,
Let me welcome your return as the commander of our fort,
And assure you that you have both our respect and our support.

We'll be keeping you apprised of what's occurring in the press,
(A fact which might contribute to your quotient of distress.)
And throughout the coming crises that inevitably rise,
We will round up all the comments, both the foolish and the wise.

So don't lose your sense of humor and, whatever your desire,
We will help in any way we can to put out every fire,
And while formulating policies and solving problems, too,
Just remember, let your inner warmth, from time to time, shine through.

Five days later, Dr. Brown wrote this reply on a copy of the poem:
"Harry Z, Thanks for this superlative effort and the advice. It reminds me that though most of the work is oppressive many of the people here are nice! H.B."

______________________________

To Eugene M. Zuckert, Secretary of the Air Force, 1961 – 1965

When the man of the hour acceded to power,
And you were confirmed in this job,
You found a whole host of old friends and old ghosts,
In fact, you confronted a mob.

This place was a literal beehive of guys
Who remembered the old days of yore,
When they were one quarter of their present size,
That is, when you served here before.

They thought of the days when you wielded the whip,
When you cracked down on spenders galore,
When you helped form the structural shape of this ship,
When you crammed with the cream of the Corps.

Small wonder, old friend, that they welcomed you back
With a cheer and a sigh of relief,
For here was a pro in the business we know,
To steer the ship clear of the reef.

Your basic approach to the job as our coach,
Has confirmed our opinion of you. From

The day that you left to the day you returned
It is obvious, too, that you grew, some.

We hasten to say with a note of dismay
That each morning you’re not a slow starter,
And though we complain of the pain and the drain,
We all find ourselves working harder.

So let us conclude with sincere gratitude
And on one thing we all will say “Yes,”
We’ll never get sore while you’re minding the store
For you are our boy, we confess!

We’re glad that you’re here on birthday this year
And we hope that you always will be,
So each year on this day we can greet you this way
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, MR. Z.

______________________________

To John A. Lang, Jr.
Administrative Assistant to the Secretary of the Air Force, 1964 – 1972

The time has come to say good-bye, as come it must, at last,
And never did some seven years fly by so very fast,
So pause with me and see if we together can review,
The golden years of John A. Lang, and of his happy crew.

So many things have happened in so short a span of time,
That we can only capture but a few of them in rhyme,
For you have filled the passing years with so much work and fun,
And never did so many owe so much to anyone.

Now all of us remember who recruited you, you see,
Our former boss, the Secretary, known as Mr. Z.,
But tell use, did he twist your arm before you would agree?
Or did you volunteer to take this job quite willingly?

And all of us remember, for a year you wore two hats,
And set a pace of action that would kill us normal cats,
You also had both Frank and Ray, a pair of great execs,
And both of them, we have to say, wound up as total wrecks.

And all of us remember that in any given week,
You reluctantly accepted invitations that you speak,
No, there weren’t very many, just a million words or two,
Which we bound up in four volumes as a souvenir for you.

And all of us remember all the many jokes you told,
For sometimes we would hold our breath to hear how they unfold,
And some of us remember just as clear as yesterday,
The never-ending research to find something new to say.

And all of us remember every trip you had to take,
The times when you were gone we didn’t have to stay awake,
But you surely led Bill Richardson a very merry chase,
As you charged through every speaking trip like speeding through a race.

And all of us remember all those meetings with your staff,
When each dreary Monday morning would produce at least one laugh,
For you spent the time critiquing what we did the week before,
And with humor in predicting what the next one held in store.

And all of us remember in deciphering your scrawls,
With just a few, short scribbled words you’d have us climbing walls,
And the colorful expressions with a twinkle in your eye,
Can you repeat the one when you were called to testify?

And of us remember that when things did not go right,
When the prospects looked quite dismal and the future less than bright,
We could always count on you to turn a frown into a smile,
And to make us feel much better, if for just a little while.

And all of us remember, you reminded us each day,
That a love of flag and country is what made the U.S.A.,
We salute you as a gentleman who really loves this land,
For your patriotic fervor you deserve a hearty hand.

And all of us remember, when the flag becomes unfurled,
That the State of Carolina is the center of the world,
And to take it one step further, it was so ordained by Fate,
That the little town of Carthage be the center of that State.

Yes, all of us remember many things we cannot say,
For memories come flooding back when you are gone away,
But this we know and this we say, we’ll miss you very much,
And this we hope, and this we pray, that you will keep in touch!

Hundreds of people who knew Harry at the Pentagon received a poem at one time or another. (I know because I now have copies.) And, they probably saw his annual "Season's Greetings" poems to all in the Defense Department -- stay tuned; I'll post one down the road. And, did you know Harry submitted rhymes to greeting-card companies, Hallmark for one? I'll save those for later, too. Next week I'll get back to his "regular" writings.