A BIOGRAPHY OF MARY COVER JONES

A dissertation submitted to the Wright Institute

Graduate School of Psychology in partial fulfill-
ment of the requirements for the Degree of Doctor
of Philosophy in Psychology

By

BETTYJANE KOENIG REISS

June 1990

@1990
BETTYJANE KOENIG REISS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
 i

APPROVAL PAGE

I certi fy that I have read A BIOGRAPHY OF MARY COVER JONES

by Bettvjane Koenig Reiss , and that in my opinion this work meets

the criteria for approval of a dissertation submitted in partial ful-

fillment of requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in
Psychology at the Wright Institute Graduate School of Psychology.

Chair Andrea Morrison, Ph.D. Date

i/d.-o! 90

i"lurphv, Ph.D.

Committee Member Andrea Polk, Ph.D. Date

 ii

ABSTRACT
June 1990

A BIOGRAPHY OF MARY COVER JONES

By
BETTYJANE KOENIG REISS

The central question being examined is the definition of success

across the lifespan, construing the term "success" broadly, including
achievements in the realm of work, interpersonal relationships and the
intrapsychic realm which constitutes self-fulfillment.
To answer this question one older woman's life is examined. Her
story, elicited by interview questions, is the Narrative, which becomes
the data to be analyzed in the Discussion.
The woman selected was living through the eighth decade of her life.
She was coping with stresses accompanying old age. There,fore issues
emerging around losses and coping strategies utilized for adaptation to
such decrements is reviewed in the literature.
The g~nre of biography is also examined, especially the variant,
psychobiography; since this study falls under the discipline of
psychology. Idiographic theory is reviewed as well.
Finally, issues of gender and women's evolving concepts of their
roles in 20th century North American society are considered. They were
germane to the life of the woman in question, since her life spanned the
greater part of this century. She lived through many phases of the so-
called women's liberation movement.
 iii

Interviw schedules were designed to elicit a narrative by the

subject in chronicle form. Developmental theories of Block, Erikson and
Buhler are influential in the Discussion. Other theoretical orientations
include Kleinian and Winnicott1s object relations, personality theory and
psychoanalytic developmental theories on aging.
The Discussion includes background influences from socio-cultural,
social psychological perspectives. Foreground in the Discussion is the
psychodynamics of the subject from the theoretical approaches cited.
 iv

This disseration is dedicated to

Barbara Jones Coates
and
Lesley Jones Alexander
in memory of their mother,

MARY COVER JONES

(September 1, 1896 - July 22, 1987)

Vassar Days
1915 - 1919

June 1990
 v

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This paper could not have been written without the help of many
people; the late Mary Cover Jones', whose biography it is, being foremost
among them. Dr. Jones' will ingness to be interviewed and to have her
life story recorded, then her faithful reading and correcting of the
Narrative, were gifts beyond measure. She gave her time, generously and
happily, to this task, over a two and a half year period. This was at a
time in her life when her eyesight was failing and her strength was
seriously diminished. She had been interviewed countless times and did
not need to be again. She did it to help a late-life student because
that is the kind of person she was. Knowing her has been one of 1ife's
blessings for me.
Mary's daughters took on the task next. Barbara Coates and Les1 ey
Alexander each read the entire text of the Narrative (Part II), and gave
inva1 uab1 e he1 p. Barbara's know1 edge about the Cover-Higson 1ineage as
well as the later lines of descent fleshed out the genealogical chart and
made it more accurate. Her efforts included editorial suggestions as
well that contributed to the accuracy of the text and improved it
stylistically. Lesley's editorial skills are considerable and this
dissertation profited from them. One suggestion in particular was
especially helpful. She pointed out the advantage of dividing a long and
unwieldy chapter into two shorter ones, thereby improving the narrative
flow. I tal so clari fi ed the contents. Both women caught many
inaccuracies of a factual nature and by correcting them contributed to
the final text. Those that may remain are the sole responsibi1 ity of
this writer. Barbara's and Lesley's patience and sustaining interest in
this prolonged production is deeply appreciated.
 vi

The chair of this dissertation committee, Dr. Andrea Morrison, has

given this candidate the kind of support that every graduate student
dreams of having but only the precious few are lucky enough to realize.
It is best described analogically in Winnicott's terms as the "good
enough" mother who provides the child with "the f~cilitating

environment." Dr. Morrison was there to facilitate. On occasion that

required strong and decisive intervention to avert mistakes of critical
dimensions. Often it required a benign neglect that allowed the student
to take responsibility and risk that might lead to a wider perspective
. and a sharper vision. If either of those characteristics may be found
herein, Dr. Morrison deserves the greater part of the credit. To the
paucity of such dimensions, this writer is solely responsible.
Dr. Maureen Murphy graciously agreed to serve on this committee at a
time when she was no longer officially connected with the Wright
Institute and even though she had a full agenda professionally in another
place. -
Beyond her helpful advice and counsel, she endeared herself to
this writer forever by introducing her to Marjorie Lozoff, who also
became a member of this committee.
Marjorie M. Lozoff gave this researcher a crash course in how to
construct interview schedul es. It was so successful that the then-Dean

of the Institute Graduate School complimented the student on the

excellence of the schedules (which are included in Appendix D). Beyond
her research skills and interviewing expertise, Marjorie has become a
valued friend whose supportive counsel is often sought and whose help is
always there when needed.
 vii
Andrea Polk, the last member to join the committee, became a very
welcome addition. She graciously consented to serve when the need arose
to add a member. Her careful reading of the manuscript and her
thoughtful commentary has been timely, helpful and supportive.
Then there is Suzanne Manton, without whose help this task would lie
unfinished still. She has worked indefatigably at her word processor and
with consummate skill. Her years of experience in guiding doctoral
candidates along the sometimes perilous and often opaque path to
completion of their task on schedule has yielded this candidate
enl ightenment, ratiocinative and psychological. Suzanne's forebearance
has been buttressed by her good humor and tact. In the process of
sharing the task Suzanne has become not only a fellow-traveler on the
road of life, but a friend as well.
Next there is GEL, the Group for Enriched Living, to which Maureen
Murphy referred this student for a one year placement. GEL is the group
for successful agers, founded by Marjorie Lozoff, to which Mary belonged
as a charter member. Thi s student came to vi sit, stayed for a year's
placement and then became the student who never left. During those
trying years following the death of her husband, GEL was a bastion of
strength and support. The process in the group is amazing and full of
grace.
To a11 of the above and to those unnamed but beloved fri ends who
have seen me through the past eight years, I give my heartfelt thanks.
And finally, there is family: my three daughters -- to Bernadette
and her husband Bob; to Juliette Ciel; to Suzette, and her fiance, Gerard
-- all of whom have been waiting patiently, through the years, for this
maternal figure to finish her formal education, I give my everlasting
gratitude and love.
 viii
To the youngest branches on the family tree, my three grandchildren,
Amber Celeste, Tony Bernard, and Kate Rebecca, this grandmother bequests
her hope that they will complete their formal educations before their
30th birthdays and reap the rich rewards throughout long, productive,
fulfilling lives.
Bettyjane Koenig Reiss
Berkeley, California and
Miami, Florida
June 1990
 ix
TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dissertation Approval •••••••••••• ~ ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• • • • • • 1

Abstract ...........................•.••. ... . • . . . • • . • . . . . . . • • . . . • • . . . . . .. 11

Dedication ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• iv
Acknowledgements •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• v
Table of Contents•.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ix

PART I
PROPOSAL
Literature Review
Introduction •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1
Aging Successfully••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• • • • • • • • • • • •7
Stress, Coping, Losses ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ?
Motivation, Competence, Achievement ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 13
Biography
The Genre .•••••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 26
Variations •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 35
Issues of Identity
Self as Person ••••••••••••-•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 57
Self as Woman ••••••••••••••• ·•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 69
Integrity versus Despair •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 90
Summary •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 108

Methodology
The Question••••••••••••••••.••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••.•• 111
The Sample .•••••.••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 116
Procedures •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 117
Preliminary Interview•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ll?
Interviews and Interview Schedules••••••••••••••••••••••••• 119
Standardized measure as projective technique ••••••••••••••• 124
Training, Ethics and Values•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 126
Analysis of Data •••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 142
 x

PART II
NARRATIVE

Chapter I
Family Beginnings: The.Foundation ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 154
Chapter II
Early Life •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 166
Chapter III
New Thresholds •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••• 191
Chapter IV
Convergence •••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••..•••.••.•••••.•••••••••• 210
Chapter V
Consolidation and New Directions •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 254
Chapter VI
Three Famous Studies and How They Grew •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 264
Chapter VII
Family Life From the Middle Years to ·the 1980s •••••••••••••••••• 302
Chapter VIII
Professional Life in the Middle Years••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 313
Chapter IX
Transitions ••••••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••. 324
Chapter X
The Late 1970s and Early 1980s •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 354
Chapter XI
Integrity, Despair and Wisdom ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 371
Chapter XII
Settling In••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 392

In Memoriam•••••••••••••••••••••••••.••••••••••••••.••••••••••••••••• 426
 xi

PART III
DISCUSSION
Program Notes••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 428
Prologue•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 439
Backdrop •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 444
Family Beginnings ••••••••••••••••••••.••••••••••••••••••••••••• 444
The Foundation •••.••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 450
Setting •••••••••••••.••••••••••••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••••••• 461
Johnstown •.••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••.••••••••••• 461
The Flood: 1889•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 474
Courtship of Charles Cover and Carrie Higson ••••••••••••••••••• 481
Foreground •••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 485
Nuclear Family Beginnings •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 487
Opening Act••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 495
I'Call it Oedipal II • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 498
"A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose" ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 501
Autonomy••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• •.• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •• 507

Center Stage ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ~ ••••••••••••••• •• • • • • • 510

The Tale of Two Toys •••••••.••••••••.••.•.•••••.•••.••••••••.•• 510
Play li the Thing ...•••••••..••.•.••••..•••.••.•.••.•.•.•••••.• 531
Denouement: Integrity vs. Despair••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 541
Aging •.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 542

Epl1ogue •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 553

Notes .••.•••••.•.•.••••..•••••••••••••.••••••••••••.•••..•••.•••••.• 554

References •••.•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••.•••••••••••••••••••••• 582
Appendices
A Informed Consent Form•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 601
B Biographical Fact Sheet•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 604
C Historical Time Line ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 613
D Interview Schedules •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 617
E Hassles and Uplift Scales •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 690
F Part II Addenda •••.••••••••••••••• e • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 704
 1

PART I
LITERATURE REVIEW
Introduction

This paper is about the values of a remarkable human life. It is a

long and full life, still being lived with vigor, determination and joy.
The central question that informs this inquiry is how does a successful
human being go about living her life? Having done so, moreover, for some
fourscore years, how does she approach its close?
There is the assumption implicit in this study that development is a
lifelong endeavor. A second assumption is that a psychobiography of one
successful 01 der woman's journey can be he1 pfu1 to others--that peopl e
learn from the experience of others as well as their own. There may be
questions that arise from the examination of this life course that can be
looked at by other researchers working in the field of adult development
and aging. That fresh approaches may emerge from this research attempt
makes pursuing it more worthwhile.
The more focused question bei ng explored is how successful
adaptations to loss throughout the life course may be helpful in solving
some of the developmental tasks of 1iVing, especially those tasks that
emerge in the last years of life.
In a remarkably lucid paper, Notes Toward a General Theory of
Personality Deve10pment--At Eighty or Any Old Age, Nevitt Sanford (1973)
has some clarifying remarks on these matters. He suggest that old people
are not encouraged to indulge their bent toward philosophy, possibly
 2

because philosphy itself (rather than old peop le l) is not appreciated.

He speculates that young psychologists working in the field of
development tend to concentrate on the years with which they are most
familiar personally, and older psychologists, who are becoming
philosophically interested in aging, no longer have a platform or an
audience to address. But Sanford believes that development is a
philosophical problem, in the sense that it contains within it the
assumption of value.[l]
Development is usually construed by those most interested in it to
be "a good thing ... an overarching value in the sense that the
interrelated virtures that stand high in the great ethical systems depend
on high levels of development" (p.30). Sanford is thinking in terms of
humanitarian principles and cultural development that transcend the
individual. But the idea of turning to the older individual, especially
one trained and experienced in the field of developmental psychology, to
help in the search for meaningful questions (and perhaps some answers as
well) fits into Sanford's larger message.
The psychobiography to be developed will begin in medias res. The
subject of the study is grappling day to day with some of the major
stressors of aging, most notably, losses of various kinds and degrees.
In exploring her life and assessing its course, the interview method
being used requires that the history be filtered through her current
position on 1 ife's continuum. Therefore, the 1 iterature review begins
with issues of stress and coping. The theoretical point of view that
Richard lazarus and Anita Delongis (1983) present in their recent paper,
Psychological Stress and Coping in Aging, is chosen for review because it
 3

emphasizes the importance of the individual's appraisal of experience

both cognitively and affectively, and also points out many other
variables that need to be considered in any attempt to understand coping
issues. For example, their approach emphasizes the importance of
understanding an individual's lifelong history if adaptations to corrent
stressors are to be correctly assessed. In another paper, Cognitive
Style, Stress Perception, and Coping, James C. Coyne and Richard S.
Lazarus (1980) state:
When one is attempting to reconstruct appraisal processes in
descriptive studies of stress and coping in naturalistic
settings, converging evidence from a variety of sources can
be employed: the person's self-report; knowledge of the
characteristics of the person and environment; observed
patterning of emotion, physiological response, and coping;
and, most important, the congruence of fit among these
variables. (p.154)
It is their relatively comprehensive approach to stress and coping that
includes the unique individual's style of reacting as well as the
environmental impact, and the processes of interacting among variables
that make these theorists most applicable to the psychobiographical study
to be undertaken.
There is also a connection between stress and development along the
value continuum mentioned above. It is expressed succinctly by Rollo May
(1980) in his paper Value Conflicts and Anxiety. He begins with a
statement that human anxiety arises because people are valuing animals,
who give their lives and their world meaning through symbols. He then
links anxiety to the self-development of the individual, beginning with
the earliest of separation and individuation processes. May states that
"self-relatedness" [is] "a man's capacity to stand outside himself, to
 4

know that he is the subject as well as the object of experience, to see

himself as the entity who is acting in the world of objec ts" (n, 243).
Later, as growth and development progress, May says that values which
begin with an appreciation of the love and care of a mothering figure
become transformed into "a desire for approval... success in the eyes of
parents and peers, and, later on, status in cultural terms. In the
mature adult, the values become the devotion to freedom, to a religious
belief, or to scientific truth" (p.242).
May's II self-relatedness ll is the core concept out of which the later,
more mature, values grow. Any threat to that concept produces profound
anxiety. In this sense, anxiety is existential, not neurotic (although
it may assume neurotic proportions, if it is disproportionate to the
threat). May's definition of values, which includes the concept of
growth and development, also encompasses creativity. Since values are a
process of self-development, any codification that leads to dogma tends
to be self-defeating and destructive. Says May, IIDogma whether of the
rel igious or the scientific variety, is a temporary security bought at
the price of surrending one's opportunity for fresh learning and new
growthll (P. 246). May is saying something quite similiar to Sanford; he
is suggesting that development of the self is the most valuable task of
1ife. Thisis certainly aki n to Sanford's val uing of development. In
May's case, however, he is also saying that such development can lead to
profound anxiety because it involves a separation of the individual from
the rest of nature, including human nature itself. May links this to the
Cartesian split between mind and body.
 5

Throughout the history of Western civilization, this mind-body

dichotomy has been implicit and oftentimes explicit. It is traceable to
the development of psychology out of its philosophical beginnings. Jane
Loevinger (1976) in Ego Development insists:
Most contemporary theories of the ego are holistic, as
opposed to dualistic or elementaristic. The primary datum is
the person... he himself is the unit of study. Moreover, the
ego is not a spirit animating a machine or a pilot in a ship;
the Cartesian dichotomy of mind and body is currently
rejected. (pp.62-63)
While this may be a true reflection of the sentiment of most contemporary
theorists, the dichotomy has descidedly not been rationally resolved.
For this dualistic problem is part of the very nature of the human
condition. As long as human beings are self-conscious creatures who view
themselves as objects from the perspective of their egos, the mind-body
dichotomy cannot be so easily swept under the carpet. Melvin H. Marx and
William A. Hillix (1979) in Systems and Theories in Psychology address
this question in some detail and end by suggesting that the controversy
is not easy to define: "It is not always clear that the different
positions are really different, or that we have made the correct
decisions about where a given philosopher should be placed" (p.27). They
end by saying that there is "no known scientific method for deciding
among the suggested solutions to the mind-body problem" (p.27), and they
also make the somewhat flippant suggestion that "the problem is bad
enough as it is, so let's let sleeping dogmas lie." This wry but honest
summation fits the dilemma better than Loevinger's conclusion.
Beyond the question of how stress and coping will be examined in
this psychobiography, the next issue to be addressed is the meaning of
 6

success. It is defined somewhat differently herein than the quotation

from May above suggests, but there are correlations. Both May and this
writer see success as a value closely related to self-fulfillment or, as
May would call it, self-relatedness. It is intimately connected to
motivation issues and competence. Achievement, an objective measure of
success, is one of the facets considered, but not the most important
criterion. The section that follows the one defining success is in the
nature of a digression. It attempts to define psychobiograpy and its

place within the broader context of biography with its interdisciplinary

relationships. Some considerations are given to the arguments that favor
idiographic studies over nomothetic ones, and psychobiography is explored
as a viable method for studying the individual.
Following the discussion about psychobiography is a section dealing
with the theories and issues of self, and self as woman, that will be
used to analyze the life course of the subject. This section also
includes a brief review of Erikson's psychosocial theory of ego
development, especially as it relates to the older adult. The most
important issue throughout this chapter has already been introduced
above. It concerns the paradoxical aspects of human existence that
evolve out of the human being's search for meaning and value in life.
This search requires that a person view herself both as a subject and an
object in relation to others who also see themselves similarly. The
search is extra-personal as well, including search for ultimate meanings
and a place within the cosmology. It is this view of the self, in its

dual aspects, that appears necessary to a valued life. It also leads to

the confrontation of the limitations of life. Boundaries are ubiquitous,
 7

separations recurrent, and death inevitable. But within these finitudes

lie the possibilities of love and work and creative self-development,
making 1ife worth 1iving. It is one woman's creative endeavor within

these constraints that will be examined in the body of this paper as her
1ife story unfolds.

Aging Successfully
Stress, Coping, losses
As more and more people live longer, the quality of individual lives
in the 1as t years becomes profoundl y important to those who are
survivors, to surviving members of their immediate families, to
professional caretakers of the frail and failing elderly, and to the
remaining among us who are potential survivors.
Individual losses increase as the years advance. Pain and stress,
never wholly absent from human 1ives, become more and more prevail ing
with advancing age. The question of how to manage stress and cope with
painful losses becomes central in life as an individual approaches death.
Therefore, one question of this study is whether or not the close
examination of a long and successful life will reveal coping strategies
around losses that may be helpful in stress management leading to life
satisfaction.
Richard S. lazarus and Anita Delongis (1983) discuss the importance
of studying personal histories to understand better the dynamics of
stress and coping. They point out that aging is a highly individualized
process easily obscured by cross-sectional approaches.[2] In the cross-
sectional studies they cite, the data do not yield clear central
 8

tendencies, whereas longitudinal studies suggest that variability, rather

than consistency, is more prevalent in both sources of stress experienced
and types of coping utilized by older populations.
lararus and Delongis (1983) point out that a review of 1ife
satisfaction studies indicates that, despite forty years of research,
there are no clear-cut answers regarding either the "causes or the
correlates of satisfaction" (p.245).
Without abandoning the idea of cross-sectional studies, lazarus and
Delongis (1983) speak out in favor of more longitudinal studies to help
grasp "the dynamic changes that take place in individuals or groups over
time" (p.245). They present three arguments to support a shift in the
direction of including more longitudinal studies. First, it is necessary
to give up a "simplistic notion" that life events, "however
psychometri ca 11 y sophi st i ca ted" thei r defi nit ions, can adequately
describe stress (p.245). Nor is it sufficient to see coping as "a
stable, overarching style" used by people to alleviate the many different
kinds and sources of stress in their lives because the process is made up
of a series of evolving strategies that changes over the life course
(p.245). Second, there is variabi1 ity in the process of aging in itself.
Not only are there varied sources of stress with varied patterns of
coping, but these sources arise from different environmental conditions
of living. In addition, individuals have their own personal agendas and
individual characteristics that shape encounters, interpersonal and
envi ron menta 1, and these encounters, in tu rn, reshape i ndi vi dua1s
(p.246). Third, lazarus and Delongis (1983) credit R. N. Butler (1975)
with the argument that throughout life people struggle to make sense out
 9

of what happens to them. This process is embedded in different personal

beliefs and shapes cognitive appraisals of stressful transactions. In

turn, these coping methods have profound consequences for moral as well
as for somatic health. Speaking of reminiscenses in old age, Butler
(1968) says:

I conceive the life review as a naturally occurr f nq,

universal mental process characterized by the proqress ive
return to consciousness of past experiences, and,
particularly, the resurgence of unresolved conflicts;
simultaneously, and normally, these revived experiences and
conflicts can be surveyed and integrate~ Presumably this
process is prompted by the real ization of approaching
dissolution and death, and the inabil ity to maintain one's
sense of personal invulnerability. It is further shaped by
contemporaneous experiences and the nature and outcome are
affected by the lifelong unfolding of character. (p.487)[3]

It is the "lifelong unfolding of character" that should be stressed here,

because it is this fact that lazarus and Delongis (1983) are emphasizing:
"It is not age alone, but the significance of stressful events viewed

within the continuity of a person's 1ife that must be taken into account"
(p.246).

From their own recent findings, Lazarus and Delongis (1983) draw

several interesting conclusions. First, they point out that life stress

has two different models in current research and theory. One, the life
events model, emphasizes change and adaptation as a method of meeting

life stress. But, as people age, this model becomes less meaningful.
Major changes in 1ife become less frequent; stress, however, does not.
This may be because the events that cause stress for older people can be

cha racteri zed as "nonevents II (p.246). Exi stent i a 1 circumstances and

affect-laden responses to them, reminiscent of the quotation from Butler

above, occupy the older person's agenda and can be very stressful. Then
 10

there are chronic problems of infirmity, 1imited energy, lonel iness,

hostile or unresponsive environments, to mention a few. One particularly
interesting "nonevent" mentioned is that of reaching a plateau in ones
career. For the 01 der people, that could be transl ated into enforced
retirement. A variation of this that comes to mind might be the
ambiguous position of being given office space in which to do ones
professional work without monetary compensation.
In discussing the need to take into account the variability in
processes of aging and psychological stress under similar environmental
conditions, the authors invoke a core concept: "Cognitive Appraisal"
(p.249). It is how a person assesses the significance of an encounter

that determines whether or not it be stressful. "Coping, II too, is a key

mediating process (p.249). The emotional response of the person depends,
in large measure, on how s/he copes with the encounter. There is
problem-focused coping which changes the person-environment relationship
and therefore alleviates the threat. Emotion-focused coping changes the
way the encounter is attended to and, hence, the emotional reaction to
it. Emotion-focused coping also acts through cognitive processes. It

can be either effective or self-defeating. If the situation is handled

well emotionally, it may not change, but a more benign emotional reaction
will have been created. Usually some measure of both strategies is used,
and, in successful coping, the two methods may be used concomitantly,
alternatively, or in varied dynamic combinations.
Lazarus and Delongis (1983) suggest that an alternative
conceptual ization for detecting and measuring stress, to be used as a
supplement to the life events strategy, is one they call "Hassles" and
 11

"Uplifts" (Kanner, Coyne, Schaefer, & lazarus, 1981). Their findings

indicate that daily hassles tend to be more deleterious to health than
predictabl e 1ife events. Even though hassl es tend to accompany major
life events, they also occur more routinely in day-to-day living.
Different age groups and different cohorts also identify different
occurrences as hassles. Again, the salient point in the findings
revolves around appraisal. This depends on more than one or two
variables. Age does make a difference, but so do other factors, among
them something called Proximal and Distal.[4] These terms refer to how
an individual views events in his life. If s/he sees them as proximal,
whether they are 1ife events or merely hassles, they are stressful; if
s/he sees them as distal, then they will be less stressful (even though
society may identify them as significant life events). Simply because
the individual sees them differently, their effect differs.
Coping, like stress, often depends on cognitive factors. People do
not usually remain passive in the face of life's exigencies. They try to
change situations; failing that, they try to give new meaning to the
situations. lazarus and Delongis (1983) point out that past researchers
have tried to assess coping as a personality trait or as a style. This
has not been successful because, they suggest, coping is a more dynamic
process that changes over time and in differing contexts.
General ization, the researchers bel ieve, has come prematurely, before
enough people have been assessed enough times in many different kinds of
life situations. Only after that can researchers begin to identify
stable individual differences in coping competence.
 12

One finding that has emerged from their recent research, however, is
that older people do not cope differently from younger ones; rather, they
have different stressors with which they must cope, and individuals show
major differences in coping with these common stressors of aging. Once
again, the individual emerges as the crucial variable.
lazarus and Delongis (1983) cite Lewin directly, in stressing that
an emphasis on individual aspects of aging does not negate the
possibility of finding general laws; the point is that individual
differences and general laws are two aspects of the same problem
(p.250).[5J Nevertheless, there is yet another contingency that makes
generalizations about aging especially difficult. It is that people age
biologically at different rates; chronological age, therefore, can be
misleading as a method of grouping people.
Finally, lazarus and Delongis (1983) argue that a person (or a
group) has a "central story 1 f ne" (p.250). It is this theme or motif
that gives a person's life useful personal meanings. These meanings are
apt to be threatened at any time by untoward events. It is from the
perspective of this story line that theorists should examine stress and
coping. Over the life course, social as well as physical environments
change. lazarus and Delongis (1983) cite separation, competition, new
neighborhoods, changing peers and authority figures, parental discord,
and deaths in the family as some of the potential threats to the story
line.
In addition to these contingencies that may assault, alter, or even
destroy an unfolding story line, there is the interpretation that the
individual puts upon the events (or lack of events). This depends upon
 13

the more or less stable features of the personality. lazarus and

Delongis suggest that two personality variables are especially important
to examine because they shape stress and coping over the 1ife course.
They are "patterns of commi tment" and libel i efs about sel f and worl d"
(p.250). The authors suggest these two variables not only because they
meet their own standards but because they "are part of the current social
science zeitgeist" as well (p.251).
To return to the question addressed in the opening paragraphs, this
study intends to examine, largely through personal interviews, the life
course of one successful older woman. The somewhat detailed review of
the lazarus and Delongis article serves as an introduction to central
issues that the study will try to analyze and assess as they may arise in
this life. The focus of this study will be more upon losses than stress
in general. The question of interest is whether or not there are
discernible patterns or styles of coping that this woman has developed
throughout her life to help her face losses and continue to live her life
in a way that has meaning and value for her. It will also be of interest
to learn how this woman views her life on the continuum of success: what
is her "ce ntral story line" (p.250)? Does she see it reaching a
satisfactory conclusion as she looks back over her life? Perhaps this
singular story can point in a significant direction for further
exploration.

Motivation, Competence, Achievement

In determining how losses are handled successfully throughout a long
life, the question of defining the term "success" must be addressed.
 14

Implicitly, there is an assumption that if one is successful throughout

onels earlier years, then this mode of living should carryover into the
later years as well. But what, exactly, does the word "success" mean?
What does it mean to live a IIsuccessfulll life? What, moreover, does the
phrase lI agi ng successfullyll connote?
The dictionary defines IIsuccessll as lithe degree or measure of
attaining a desired end: Kind of fortune specific; the attainment of
wealth, position, esteem, favor or emtnence," "Successtul" is IIgaining
or having gained success; esp.: having attained wealth, position or
fame. II[6] Two aspects of these definitions are especially interesting in
the present context. First, success is subjectively qualified. The
writer of this paper has applied the adjective to the subject, but it has
not yet been confirmed by the subject. Second, the conjunction used in
the amplification of the general desired end to more specific categories
implies that one, some, or all may be included in defining the term, but
all need not be included. When this writer uses the phrase "successful
life,1I it is meant to convey all that Webster has implied (with the
possible exception of "weal th," which is somewhat problematic, in part
because of the historically recent inflationry spiral, coupled with the
advanced age of the subject); but conveyed in a "more or l ess" fashion,
which is covered by the phrase lithe degree or measure of ll in the opening
statement of the definition. Whether or not the subject would agree with
the dictionary definition as applied to herself remains to be seen. But
the dictionary definition does not begin to cover the meaning that the
writer has in mind. It is this fuller meaning of IIsuccessll that needs to
be addressed at this time.
 15

As the word is being used in this paper, it approaches in meaning a

qUite specific and somewhat complex conceptualization outlined by Robert
W. White (1959) in a paper on the theory of motivation. White suggests
that, across the broad field of psychology from animal behavior to
learning theory to psychoanalytic ego psychology, drive theories of
motivation have been found less than adequate to explain animal and
human behavior. He proposes that a new conceptualization, for which he
chooses the word "competence," be used in place of drive theory. This
term wou 1d encompass a bi 01 ogi ca 1 component and wi11 refer to an
organism's capacity for "an effective--a competent-- interaction with the
env t ronmen t " (p, 318). A part of White's conceptual ization is that
competence depends upon a motivational component in human nature that is
not simply an inborn instinctual urge, nor is it a biological propensity
that unfolds through a process of maturation alone. In the higher
mammal ian species, especially human beings, thi s capacity to interact
effectively with the environment is attained slowly through prolonged
feats of learning. White is careful to point out, in the beginning of
his article, that he is not proposing a new idea. Rather, he is putting
together bits and pieces that have been articulated across the broad
field of psychology, not simply from ends of a continuum. Some of the
points between include the fields of child development, congnitive
studies, and personality theory.
Without further recapitulation of White's detailed review of
experiments in animal psychology, let his conclusion be accepted that
these experiments have led to the demise of the old orthodoxy that
animals, especially mammals, only engage in activity for instinct
 16

gratification, and let the new concept be entertained that activity,

exploration, and manipulation occur for their own sakes. After all,
Piaget (1952), in his carefully documented observations of his own
children, has provided rich confirmatory data. White (1959) bel ieves
that these urges to interact with the environment are biological at the
level of biochemistry. He states that "We have a complex picture in
which humoral factors and neural centers occupy a prominent
pos i t i on: ... moreover, the concept of neurogeni c motives without
consummatory ends appears to be entirely 1eg i ti mate" (p.305). Even
though he believes that they are determined at a molecular level, White
does not want to call them "dr tves," That term has a special meaning
derived from long use that refers to basic survival needs such as hunger,
thirst, and sex. Rather, he suggests, these more recently discovered
urges should be designated by a different name to avoid confusing them
with the still more basic drives. These newer urges (or more newly
discovered ones) do, however, have survival value, since they motivate
the organism to attain competence in a complex and sometimes dangerous
world.
Having stated the case at the biochemical and organic levels, White
next turns to Freud's theories of instinct and ego. He reviews the
development of ego psychology from Freud's initial and later statements
through the early additions of Anna Freud's and Hartmann's initial
revisions and forward. White emphasizes the trend towards autonomy that
grows out of the expanding role of the ego, and he especially notes the
contribution made by Erikson (1950) in his theory of epigenetic stages of
development. Special attention is called to Erikson's theory of playas
 17

the child's way of developing mastery,[7] White, (1963, pp.85-186). White

concludes that psychoanalytic theory has paralleled in its development of
the ego concept the road that animal psychology took, converging with
White's theory of competence.[8]
For related developments in general psychology, White (1959) cites
many examples of deviation from drive orthodoxy, Gordon Allport and Henry
Murray among them. He also mentions Kurt Goldstein's assumption of a
human tendency towards sel f-actual ization, as well as Abraham Maslow's
growth motivation and hierarchy of needs satisfaction. Even Alfred Adler
is cited for his similar idea of an urge towards perfection. Although
White does not mention Lois Barclay Murphy by name, he refers to similar
developments in child psychology. Murphy (1981) stresses the importance
of constitutional factors in individual children and their unique growth
patterns as important components in the development of competence.
From parallel trends in general psychology, White (1959) turns to
specifics. He cites D. O. Hebb for his interest in the human need for
excitement and stimulation:
Hebb (1949) has been particularly insistent in reminding us
that many of our activities, such as reading detective
stories, skin-diving or driving cars at high speeds, give
clear evidence of a need to raise the level of stimulation
and excitement. (p.313)[9]
White then turns to a consideration of optimal stimulation as it has
been developed in learning theory. Neither too much nor too little
stimulation is desirable: too much leads to disruptive excitement; too
little brings boredom. The experiments that support these theories about
neurological correlates lend credence, White contends, to his basic
point, that motivation exists for the human animal to be active: "Even
 18

when its primary needs are satisfied and its homeostatic chores are done,
an organism is a1 ive, active and up to somethtnq" (p.315).
From these and many more examples White rests his case for
competence motivation. At this point he suggests that a term to describe
the motivational aspect of competence might be "eff'ectance' (p.321). He
defines this term as a kind of neural energy that is part of living
cells: "The effectance urge represents what the neuromuscular system
wants to doll (p.321). White then launches into a long description of

man's tremendous thrust towards growth and development that encompasses

his p1anfu1 changes of his environment and all the accomplishments that
make up human culture. He concludes that this vast activity is

accomplished by a slow process of cumulative learning. Language is a

good example of an incremental learning task: "The early mastery of words

and pronunciation seems such a far cry from 'spontaneous adult speech'"

(1959, p.325). From this review of the panorama of human endeavors,

White turns to an appreciation of the infant's and young chi1d's playas
a serious preparation for the learning of competences. He makes the

point that play is the right medium for learning the complex tasks of
competent living. Experiments have shown that more complex tasks require

lower motivation.[10] Too focused motivation leads to missed cues.

In Whi tel s monograph (1963, pp, 185-186) menti oned above,

"eff'ectance" is defined as the energy behind learning behavior that is

directed toward exploring the environment, and it is this exploratory

behavior that leads to the development of competence: IICompetence is the

cumulative result of the history of interactions with the environment"

and "sense of competence" is suggested as a suitable term for the

 19

subjective side of this, signifying one's consciously or unconsciously

felt competence--one's confidence--in dealing with the various aspects of
the environment" (p.186).
From this overview of White's detailed explanation of his theory of
competence, let us look back to the question raised about the meaning of
success as it applies to the woman in this study. The point to be made
is that she is successful not simply in Webster's sense, but also in
White's. She is an exceptionally competent person. It is precisely
because she is so successful--so competent--that a detailed examination
of her life history may be found worthwhile as an aid to understanding
how to cope with the stresses of life. White (1963) has something to say
about that when he speaks about ego strength as part of acquired
competence and sense of competence:
This concept [i.e., ego strength], useful in cl inical
practice, has generally been defined negatively as the
absence of crippling anxiety or of anticathetic defense
processes. Such a view neglects the positive contributions
of effectance, which is at work building up adaptive
capacities that help in coping with dangers, and a sense of
competence that opposes the development of anxiety. This
work is constantly going on between times of crisis--in
conflict-free situations--and its results may be highly
significant when the next crisis occurs. (p.193)
True, White speaks of "crisis" and one of the aspects of stress related
to aging, and the losses that aging inflicts is the lack of crises, or
rather, the more or less ubiquitous and monotonous, not to say
relentless, repetition of losses with aging. Nevertheless, assuming that
White is correct in his suggestion that competence leads to development
of adaptive capacities and coping capabilities, then a close examination
of the life history may cast some interesting and worthwhile light upon
 20

the basic question under consideration.

Before leaving the concept of "success," one other way of defining
it that is particularly appropriate for this study should be addressed.
Webster states that achievement may be defined as "succes sfu l
comp1etion ll; suggested synonyms are lIaccomp1ishmentll and
IIfu1fi11ment".[11] All of these terms might be used as qualifiers of
"success ll as the term is being defined in this study. Therefore it seems
important to take at least a cursory glance at another study in
motivation, The Achievement Motive by David McClelland, John W. Atkinson,
Russell A. C1 ark, and Edgar L. Lowell (1953). One of the most
interesting findings in this study is that the achievement index used
failed to correlate with two of the most commonly used validating
criteria, both of which involve jUdgemen~ The first is that lIa person
does not estimate his achievement motivation in a way which will
correlate significantly with his achievement index score," and
"futhermore, a clinical jUdgement of his achievement motivation by
outsiders--a psychiatrist and a clinical psychologist working together --
a1 so does not agree with the index scor-e" (p.328). What the authors
surmise that this may mean is that people's perception of achievement
motivation is not the same as achievement motivation itself. Perhaps,
they speculate, certain cues are being responded to as though they were
part of the achievement motivation when, in fact, they often accompany it
but are not necessarily present. Examples cited are such items as
overcoming obstacles, working long hours, efficient overcoming of
inhibitions.
 21

Another finding that may be of interest in relation to the subject

is one that leads to a hypothesis that achievement motives develop in
cultures and in families where there is an emphasis on the independent
development of the individual. Low achievement motivation,
correspondingly, is associated with families in which the child is more
dependent on his parents and subordinate in importance to them.
McClelland et ale (1953) are careful to explain that both types of home
may be loving and affectionate, but the one that fosters high achievement
encourages independence, even to the point of a child's "talking back"
(p.328) without feeling a great deal of guilt afterwards. It is not that
one environment is more democratic than the other. The fostering one may
be quite dictatorial. But even if this is so, the parents still
emphasize the child's importance as an individual, whereas in the low
achievement home the emphasis is on the family unit and loyalty and
obligations to it above the individual.
Another finding of particular interest in the present study relates
to the achievement difference between men and women. The authors refer
to it as "stri king" (pp.330-331). They found that women were not moved
by references to leadership and intelligence. But if they were rejected
socially, their achievement motivation increased. On the other hand, men
were not affected by social rejection. The authors' interpretation is
that, in our culture, women's achievement drives are linked with getting
along successfully with other people, whereas men's are associated with
"getting ahead" in the world.
There is also a tentative finding about aging that should be noted.
A small sample of eminent scientists ranging in age from thirty to sixty
 22

were teste~ Although the results were not conclusive, they indicated
that the older men tended to be less highly motivated than the younger
ones. These resul ts appear to corroborate the common observation that
older people who have achieved their life goals are less highly motivated
than when younger. But since all the men tested were eminent in their
respective fields, the data may indicate that the younger men were more
highly motivated than the older ones not because the the older ones were
less highly motivated because of the age factor, but rather that the
younger men were eminent at an earlier age because of their higher
motivation per see
Finally, McClelland states, "There is no necessity... to argue that
social motives are ultimately based on certain biological needs" (p.327~

This statement is in line with McClelland's embrace of an affective

arousal model rather than the more traditional biological models such as
the ones that White's adaptation followed. McClelland does state that
his theory is close to Hebb's but that the final choice of a hedonic
model (t.e., pleasure-pain model of motivation) was in part because it
lends itself more easily to experiment than a theory such as Hebb1s does.
In concluding these remarks about the meaning of success, some
reflection on their relationship to the question about coping strategies
is in order. To briefly restate the question, this study is attempting
to explore issues relating to stress that accompany aging, especially the
stress that relates to losses which foreshadow the ultimate loss of life
itself. Accepting the obvious, that there is no escape from that
ultimate loss and, hence, no way to avoid pain, the question of
mitigating the pain remains. By studying the life course of a thoughtful
 23

and articulate older women, both competent and achieving, her history may
reveal hints, and possibly guidelines, that may prove useful in the task
of broadening and deepening understanding about these issues.
To summarize, a successful older women's psychobiography begins, by
virtue of its setting in time, with issues around stress connected with
aging, especially the stress accompanying losses. An assumption based
upon recent studies of coping strategies among aging populations is that
each tndtvtdue ls "central story l tne" (lazarus 8. Delongis, 1983, p.250)

is a unique one, albeit not without some generalizing possibilities. If

the central story line is elicited and coherently stated, it may reveal
"patterns of commt'tment" and libel iefs about sel f and world" (lazarus 8.
Delongis, 1983, p.250) that help explain the individual's assessment of
her/his 1ife. The assessment is an integral part of the meaning and,
hence, the value of that life. There is a sense, then, in which the
objective view cannot be separated from the subjective. How a person
sees herself and her life determines, ultimately, its success or its
failure, in her own eyes and in the eyes of others. This remains true
regardless of any objective achievements or accomplishments and how they
may be independently assessed.
Therefore, in the assessment process, the researcher must keep in
mind the criteria defining "success" or "unsuccessful 1 ife ll that have
been stated above. Included in the definition of these variants is the
integration of the commonplace view that success is related to
accomplishments and achievements, with more subjective evaluations. The
outcome is a definition that is an amalgam of two sUbjective views--the
subject's and the researcher's--as they interface with a more face value
 24

orientation and become objectified.

To help in these assessments, the researcher needs to make explicit
her theoretical orientation towards modivation. It rests upon White's

(1959; 1963) view of biological determinants. White uses the term

"effectance" to define energy that motivates the 1earning behavior that
leads to the development of competence. This researcher's theoretical
outlook includes, also, the more socially and envionmentally determined
position that McClelland (1953) takes in his study of achievement. Both
the biological urge towards growth and development and the fostering
enviornmental conditions need to be present in some measure for
individual competence to lead to achievement in life. The researcher
accepts White's position that such a thrust exists in the human being
from birth and McClelland's position that the social conditions into
which the person is born and in which s/he is reared determine, in some
significant measure, how the motivation will be real ized in the 1ife
course. These assumptions lie behind the word "success" or "successful"
as it is used throughout this pape~

Before proceed i ng to the next section of th i s paper, a few

prefatory words need to be said. It may be viewed as a digression from
the pri mary theoret i ca 1 ori entat i on. That theory concerns the
psychological perspective informing the analysis of the life course being
examined in this psychobiography. The next section, on the other hand,
is an expl anat i on of how the researcher sees the methodology of
psychobiography within the larger fields of psychology as a social
science, and biography as a genre that rests upon several discipl ines:
literary, historical, sociological, as well as the psychological.
 25

Biography is, therefore, a part of the humanities as well as the social

sciences. As such, it can be seen as an integrative discipline. In that
role it performs the valuable function of bringing order and meaning
into data that may, in its quantity and complexity, at first appear
merely chaotic. Methodologically, in this paper, the biographical data
collected will be treated as the subject matter to be analyzed from the
discipline of psychology, following the theoretical paths outlined in
this review of the literature.
Before proceeding with the theoretical outl ine to be used to
understand the subject matter, however, this researcher deems it
appropriate to digress with a description of how she sees the technique
of psychobiography fitting into its methodological niche. There are some
issues around the technique itself that parallel other more substantive
issues that will emerge as the review unfolds.
 26

Biography
The Genre
Gordon W. Allport (1967) opens his autobiographical statement in A
History of Psychology in Autobiography with:
The greater part of my own professional work can be viewed as
an attempt [to learn and] ~ •• I still do not know how a
psychological life history should be written. And here I am,
faced ironically enough with the assignment of writing my own
psychological vita. Lacking a method I shall have to bumble
along as best I can, hoping that psychologists of the future
will learn how such an assignment should be carried through.
(pp.3-4)
This sentiment, expressed only a year prior to Allport's death, might
well give pause to an inexperienced graduate student in psychology about
to embark on writing a psychobiography. Allport's words, however, bel ie
his results. It is in no small measure because of Allport's direction,
through his carefully laid groundwork, that the present writer is
encouraged to undertake the task.[12] Nor does Allport stand alone. His
efforts in both theory building and research are but one cornerstone in
an interdisciplinary structure. Depending upon the discipline within the
broad field of social science, as well as the intradiscip1inary approach
of individual scholars, this structure bears different names. To mention
a few, there are psychobiographies, 1ife course reviews, case studies,
life histories, and psychographs. The umbrella term that subsumes them
all is: "Biography (from the Gr~, life, and~ writing),11
and, according to Edmund Gosse, it is a "form of history which is applied
not to races or masses of men but to an individua1. 1 I [ 1 3 ] Gosse
attributes the first modern use of the term to Dryden, who used it in
1683 to describe the literary work of Plutarch. Gosse is emphatic in
 27

his insistence that biography properly deal s only with the 1ife of the
individual, saying, "There is perhaps no greater literary mistake than to
attempt what is called the 'Life and Times' of a man... Biography is a
study sharply defined by two definite events, birth and death." Gosse
does mitigate this emphasis, however, by admitting that "The only remnant
of the old rhetorical purpose [i.e., philosophical or historical, dating
back to Plutarch's lives] which clearer modern purpose can afford to
retain is the relative light thrown on military or intellectual or social
genius by the achievements of the selected subject" (p.953).
Turning to another modern historian, John A. Garraty, in his opening
paragraphs of The Interactions of Psychology and Biography (1954), has
this to say on the subject:
From the earliest times, the best of the writers of biography
have striven to describe not only the overt actions and
recorded facts of their subjects' 1ives, but al so their
personalities. The more perceptive writers have also
realized that there is a connection between a man and his
deeds, that an understanding of his personality helps explain
his accomplishments, and that his accomplishments throw light
upon his personal i ty, (p.569)
To support his point, Garraty quotes from Plutarch, the forebear of
modern biographers:
My design is not to write histories, but lives. And the most
glorious exploits do not always furnish us with the clearest
discoveries of virtue or vice in man; sometimes a matter of
less moment, an expression or a jest, informs us better of
their characters and inclinations, than the most famous
sieges, the greatest armaments, or the bloodiest of battles
whatsoever. (p.569)
Finally, Garraty sums it all up by saying that the best biographers,
"Like the best novelists, have always been students of human psychology,
and the development of psychological science has tended to confirm
 28

ins i ght long ago achieved (p.569).

ll

So far, Gosse and Garraty are in agreement. But Garraty appears a

bit more willing to stretch biography's umbrella beyond the individual
when, in The Nature of Biography (1957), he says:
The individual makes history; so does chance; so do social
forces. One need not look beyond his daily experience to
observe the operation of all three elements. Each of us
makes decisions that influence the lives of others; each is
controlled and limited by the world we live in; each is
affected by the caprice of fortune. It is the bi ographer' s
job to determine the relative importance of each factor
throughout his subject's career... Whether one deals with the
small instances or entire careers, the three major points of
view should be always kept in mind - for they are all
persistently operating... the biographer must decide how to
place his subject in his environment. (pp.6-7)
The task, then, is to steer a course that focuses on the individual
life within its larger field. The trick, of course, is the old familiar
one of perspective, with some additional complexities. Interaction is
one. Interaction is not linear and not, therefore, easily reduced to
cause and effect relationships. It is made up of many parts that relate
in compl icated sequences between and among themselves. And chance has
been thrown in as well. Perhaps chance is merely a euphemism for
II
ll

dimensions of the field not yet understood. Garraty's concrete details

graphically delineate some of the issues that Allport's plaintive
disclaimer cited above foreshadows.
But Garraty (1954) the historian, in his article about the inter-
relationship of psychology and history, is bent upon securing to the task
of biography the best of two disciplines - the historical method and the
insights of psychology. In stating his case for history, Garraty draws
upon a quotation from a venerable fountainhead of personality theory,
 29

Henry A. Murray. Murray (1938) begins his monumental Explorations in

Personality by explaining his concept of man as the unit of study, his

personal ity the appropriate subject matter. To help define
"Personol ogy", the term Murray coins to re-focus the field of study, he
states:

The science of men, taken as gross units... by definiton,

encompasses 'psychoanalysis' (Freud), 'analytical psychology'
(Jung), 'individual psychology' (Adler) and other terms which
stand for methods of inquiry or doctrines. (p.4)
Murray suggests that the techniques for studying individual 1ives are
available. If properly used, they can yield facts about personality. It
is imperative that man be studied as a whole unit and not merely in
segments (t.e., emotions, responses, perceptions, traits). To implement
this plan, Murray and his illustrious team at the Harvard Psychological

Clinic gathered vast archives of biographic and psychomentric data from

51 male college students. One of the problems he discusses is that of
reconciliation of conceptual differences brought to the task by the team.
The members represented diverse orientations with special technical
skills commensurate with their orientations. In conclusion, Murray
suggests that an abstract biography, which he calls a "psychograph",
should resemble a musical score whose symbols would play out
envi ronmenta 1 forces, the subject's inner set, and the resu 1tant
interaction.[14] But Murray recognizes that, even if such a result were
possible, it would contain within it a fatal flaw. It is this flaw that

Garraty cites, quoting Murray:

Before I close this account of the difficulties that confront

the personolog~ I shouldlmentTon one final rrrnltation of
any conceptual formulation of a man"'S""experience. It must
necessarily do violence to human feel ings... because itls the
 30

subst itution of heartl ess, denotative, referenti a1 symbol s

for the moving immediacy of living. By employing such a
scheme a person's vital moments, once warm and passionately
felt, become transformed into a cruelly commonplace formula,
which dispossesses them of unique value. The subject himself
is stripped and assimilated to ! typologiCiT category. Much
i! thereby lost. The discomfort that people feel in the
presence of ! psychologist is in part the apprehension that
they. will be catalogued and med away in his museum of
speclmens. Ihe artist's representation of an experience, on
the other hand, is a re-invocation of the original feeling or
of ! similar feeling, equally immediate, exciting, and
intense. The artist recreates the 'feel' of it, the
scientist slib'Stitutes the 'thought' of it. (pp.17-18)[15]-
Garraty is intent upon wedding history and psychology for the purpose of
begetting a more robust and 1ively offspring, modern biography. This
progeny will, he believes, be endowed with the chief virtue of both
parents. From history comes a legacy that draws on the creativity from
1iterature as well as the methodology of its discipl ine and the focus
upon man. Psychology offers tools for probing the more opaque side of
human nature and bringing to 1ight hitherto hidden dynamics of
personality, character, and behavior.
Louis Gottschalk (1945) makes a similiar point, when he speaks about
the dichotomous nature of history. He says that history:
Is social science... but it is also concerned with the
past for the sake of the past, with the individual and the
particular because men are interesting as men. The historian
as scientist and the historian as humanist are not, however,
two personalities; they are one. And the usefulness of that
one to both the humanities and the social sciences would be
greatly increased if he stopped acting schizophrenically.
(p.3)

There is more than a suggestion that Garraty and Gottschalk represent, by

their points of view, two sides of a larger question. For Garraty (1954)
takes issue with Gottshcal k for what appears, on the surface, to be a
position similiar to his own. He points out that three years prior to
 31

the Gottschalk paper quoted above, under the same auspices and same

general title, Allport (1942) published his very helpful gUidelines.

Gottschalk ignores the Allport work and concentrates, instead, on a
defense of the historical method, as though it were under attack.
looking back on the quotation from Murray (l938), one cannot help

wondering if Gottschalk may be feeling "catalogued and filed away in his

[the psychologist's] museum of specimens" (p, 18). Gottschalk's choice
of the word "schizophrenic" also strikes a defensive note, especially
considering that his message, that man is the unit to study, is identical
to Murray's.

The larger question that transcends history and psychology as fields

of study and embraces the philosophical discipline of epistemology in

Western culture (if not, indeed, the whole history of the human race)
hinges on the phrase "unique value" (p.18), lifted here from the long

quotation from Murray (l938) above. The question is how can man
understand himself as a unique and valuable entity within the
multiplicities of realities that he inhabits?[16] The answer is that it

is not easy. For any clear focus brings distortions to the larger
picture, if not complete obliteration. Without succumbing to the self-
defeating temptation of trying to write a definitive answer to a question

that reverberates through millenia, there is a point that can be made.

It is somewhat analogous to Alcibiades' point about the lever, given a
place to stand. At this juncture, the emphasis will be more upon the

place to stand than upon the lever, of whatever lengt~ Michael Polanyi
(1968) suggests that there is an integrative function that operates
throughout our world, performing a multitude of boundary tasks on
 32

different levels of aggregate complexities. These complexities are

systems and their fields.
To convey to the reader some of the difficulty that is encountered
in trying to grasp the aggregates on different levels, Polanyi gives an
example of a person viewing an object identified as "cat" (p.1312) while
being examined by a neurophysiologist who is viewing the viewer. The
neurophysiologist .does not see the "cat" that the person is seeing. He
sees only (or instead) the person's bodily responses to the light in his
sensory organs that he construes as "cat", Both are performi ng acts of
integrating perceptions. But the focus is different. The integrative
function is working for both upon different stimuli. This is one way in
which Polanyi speaks about the mind-body dichotomy. Another example of
levels of integration is that of a person in an airplane who can decipher
traces of prehistoric sites on earth which s/he cannot discern when
walking over them on the ground. This way of looking at reality fits
Murray's view\when he speaks of the loss of a person's unique value--the
person's feelings and vitality--when the personality is reduced to
typographical categories. The unique value depends not only upon the
aggregates that are bound together within the entity we call "person",
but upon the perception of the person as well, as viewer and as viewed.
Polanyi feels pessimistic about what he views as "certain basic
impossibil ities" (p, 1312) of human understanding. These exist in part
because integrative boundary principles are outside realms of physics and
chemistry: therefore, beyond scientific grasp. But another scientist,
trained at a different level, that of materials rather than physical
chemistry, Cyril Stanl~ Smith (1968), takes a more sanguine view. Smith
 33

believes that there is the possibility that, as science begins to search

at levels above the sub-atomic, a liaison scientist may develop who will
be able to bridge what now appears to be an unbridgeable chasm. Says
Smith:
I am not as pessimistic as Polanyi, for I see in the complex
structure of any material--biological or geological, natural
or artificial--a record of its history, a history of many
individual events each of which did predictably follow
physical principles. Nothing containing more than a few
parts appears full panoplied, but it grows. And as it grows,
the advancing interface leaves behind a pattern of structural
perfecti on or imperfection wh i ch is both a record of
historical events and a framework within which future ones
must occur•••• Is there not possible an intermediate science
using the structure that exists--important for no other
reason than that it does exist--both as a key to history and
as a framework for continuing process? (p. 644)
On this tentatively optimistic note, this paper stands. It may not be as
solid a foundation as Alcibiades would wish for moving the earth on its
axis, but as a cornerstone for the ongoing process of this human
psychobiography it may be helpful.
 34

One of the problems in dealing with the nomothetic-idiographic

debate is that it overlaps several discipl ines that use 1ife histories
either as units to study or as methodologies. So far, this paper has
attempted to define the life history as a form of biography, partaking of
aspects properly called historical, as well as aspects clearly belonging
to the field of psychology. But the genre could be examined also from
the perspective of 1iterature, or anthropology, or sociology; nor does
this list exhaust the disciplines that might be invoked.[ll] Since,
however, the life history that is being examined in this instance will be
treated as a psychobiography, it would be better to keep the focus
relatively narrow. But, while narrowing the focus, it should be realized
that the nomothetic-idiographic controversy is only one small eddy in a
veritable maelstrom. The variations may be addressed as the particular
versus the general, the one versus the many, the idiographic versus the
nomothetic. The Polanyi-Smith dialogue is cited to keep this larger view
in mind. It is possible that this intellectual maelstrom signifies a
crisis of the kind that Thomas S. Kuhn (1970) speaks about as preceding
scientific revolutions that unseat old paradigms and usher in the
new.[IB] If that is so, it would help explain some of the complexity
involved. To tease out a simple, straigtforward explanation of the
subject matter of this paper leads to oversimpl ification of the kind
that Polanyi and Smith are critiquing. Nevertheless, the risk must be
taken.
 35

Variations
Relying heavily upon William McKinley Runyan's (1982) recent
exp1ique in depth, in Life Histories and Psychobiography, it appears
reasonab1 e to begin by stating that in the present treatment the 1ife
hi story wi11 be used as "S ubject matter... the sequence of events and
experiences in a life from birth until death" (p.6), modified, in the
present case, to read "from birth until the present age." By seeing the
life history as the subject matter to be examined, it becomes clear, as
Runyan points out, that there is no single life history method that must
be employed. This approach allows the analyst to choose her/his own
method, anchoring it in the concrete biographical data that emerges. It
also avoids the criticism that has been leveled against the life history
as methodo loqy-vthat it is "studying correlations among variables or
testing general causal theories" (p.5) that may not be from comparable
data bases. But it raises another issue, expressed rhetorically by
Runyan, "'If you can't generalize from these studies of individual lives,
what's the point of doing them?'" (p.6) Runyan's answer to this is to, in
effect, reverse the question.
Pointing out that the hypothetical question might be asked by a
psychologist committed to the nomothetic position of developing
generalizations that apply to larger and larger numbers of people which
would allow more accurate predictions based on such collected evidence,
Runyan then states that there are two other level s. These level s are
equally legitimate for study and cannot be approached through the
nomothetic method. One is the group, rather than the universe. The
group is defined demographically by statistical distribution or, even
 36

more narrowly, by sex, race, social class, occupation, and so forth.

Parenthetically, nomothetic studies seldom can claim to represent
the universe; even those that encompass large populations usually narrow
their findings to relatively carefully defined groups within the larger
universe, or the findings become so general as to approach
meaninglessness. The second alternative level is, of course, the
individual. Often such individuals are public or historical figures,
clinical patients, or the studies may be autobiographical. Runyan's
point is that the more general study, on either of the two prior levels,
seldom appl ies, with predictable accuracy, to any single person.
Supporting Runyan's position is this quotation from Allport (1942):
Once in a great while the conceptualization of a life seems
sometimes to fit validly and without remainder into some
existent system of psychological thought (Freudian, Marxist,
Alderian); more often a mixture of systems is required.
Still more often... it seems desirable to seek an ad hoc
conceptualization, one that lets the case speak entirely for
itself, tell its own laws, dictate its own explanations....
Recent studies in the prediction of personal adjustment
are... based upon the assumpt i on that if we fi nd certa i n
variables frequently present [in certain cases] ... , then the
presence of enough of these variables in a new [similar] case
will indicate likely success or failure ... a non sequitor
occurs when this logic gets twisted, ... and holds that if 10
percent of the boys from a certain neighborhood become
del inquent, then this boy who comes from that neighborhood
has 10 chances in 100 of becoming del inquent ... from the
point of view of deterministic science the boy has either 100
percent certainty of becoming delinquent or 100 percent
certainty of going straight... his chances are determined by
the pattern of his life in his own behavioral environment and
not by the frequencies found in the population at large.
Psycho 109i ca 1 causati on ..i! always persona 1 and never
actuari a1. (pp.3-4)
Although this long quotation makes an elementary point about statistical
predictability, it nevertheless bears repeating here, since it points out
 37

a fallacy that even a normally intelligent person falls easily into

unless s/he is exposed frequently to the nomothetic literature. The
citation goes to the heart of the nomothetic-idiographic dilemma and
provides a good transitional statement for the topic to follow: the place
of the unique in personality theory.
Allport (l961, p.9, footnote), calls attention to the etymology of
the word idiographic, warning the reader that it must not be confused
with one it resembles in appearance only (ideographic). The first is
derived from the Greek root.i6io:$ (meaning one's own). It is the same

root as found in the English words idiom and idiosyncrasy.[19] The term
nomothetic comes from the Greek root~mothetikos (the
giving or enacting of 1aws). Both Engl ish variants were introduced to
psychology, according to Allport (1961), by W. Windelband. It is in the
context of explaining the dilemma that science has in dealing with the
unique that Allport introduces these two terms.
I n the I ndex of Subjects to All por t ' s text, he cites the word
"uniqueness" five times. But in reading this seminal text (a revision of
his earlier one, Personality: ~ Psychological Interpretation (1937) which
Allport calls "wholly new," several additional passages on "the unique"
were noted, scattered throughout (p.ix). The change in titles of the
original and the revised editions reflect the difference between the two.
The words "pattern" and "growth" both imply the concept of development
over time. Allport (l961) states that, although many new developments
have occurred in personality theory since his first edition, still "The
bas i c probl em rema i ns unchanged" (p,x), He then gives a brief
explanation of morphology as the term applies to psychology
 38

C'morphogenesis" has six citations in his Index), ending by stating, "Ihe

challenge of morphogenesis (accounting for pattern) waxes more and more

acute as we discover the commonalities in life" (p,x), Allport is
speaking of the challenge on the biological level as well as the
psychological. He adds, "The more we reach out and discover what is
uniform in human nature, the more urgent it becomes to account for
uniqueness in the form and pattern of the whole" (p,x).
Runyan (1982), some twenty years later, echoes Allport's position
when he says that he is not arguing that the three levels of analysis- -
the universal, the group, and the individual--are completely independent:
"Psychobiography proceeds at least in part through the use of general
theories in exnl aining individual 1ives" (P. 8) but, "The position being
advocated here is that these three levels ... are at least semi-
independent" (p.9) and, "Learntnq what is true about persons-in-general

often has substantial limitations in enabling us to understand and

predict the behavior of individual s" Ip.s).
A few years prior to publ ication of Pattern and Growth .!!!.
Personal ity, All port (1958) spoke about "bui 1di ng blocks" (p.Ill) for the
personality in a short essay originally delivered as part of a symposium
held at Syracuse University. In this paper he suggested that one reason

psychology has had so much trouble developing a workable method for

analyzing the human personal ity has been because it has tried to model
itself too closely upon the physical, chemical, and biological sciences,

in which the units of study are molecular, whereas, Allport states, lilt
seems clear that the units we seek in personality and in motivation are
relatively complex structures, not mo l ecul ar" (pp.113-114).[20] He
 39

continues by suggesting that psychology should accept as a "'hypothetical

construct'" (p.114) that the unit for study is invisible but factual.
The third proposition he makes is called "situational variability"
(p.1l4) and describes the probl em encountered when peopl e move from one
setting to another: "Motivational units discovered under laboratory
conditions often seem to evaporate when the subject moves... to his
office.. home... golf club" (p.114). Allport links these "situational
variables" to then-current research on perception and continues:
Not only does the individual vary his behavior, but our
perception of him is heavily affected by our subjective sets,
by our degree of 1iking for him and by his degree of
similarity to ourselves. The perceiver himself may, there-
fore, be the principle source of variance; the situation in
which the object-person acts may be the second source of
variance; and the fixed traits and motives of the object-
person may be only a minor factor. (p.1l5)
From this complexity, Allport is led to discuss role theory, which some
psychologists have turned to as a way out of the subjective-objective
dilemma and that of perceiver bias. Allport rejects the extreme position
of role theorist, that a person is only a bundle or collection of social
selves, dependent wholly upon the situation to define her/him. Instead,
Allport points out that there is considerable experimental evidence to
support the idea that the person carries a "typical level of anxiety" or
a "typical amount of aesthetic interest and of ascendance,...a typical
aspiration level and a fairly constant degree of prejudice" around with
her/him, wherever s/he may go (p.116). Allport makes a strong statement
in support of characteristic styles of behavior that a person displays
across all the varied roles s/he may play in different life settings.
Beyond that, Allport suggests, a person tends to seek out congenial roles
 40

and avoid unsympathetic ones that place a strain upon her/his

motivational structure--that tend to cramp her/his style.
Allport next turns to the specific question that the symposium was
addressing, assessment of motivation and classes of units in the then-
current assessment research. After examining these in some detail,
Allport addresses factor analysis ~nd factorial clusters. This leads him
to "a somewhat alarming poss tbf l i ty" (P. 123). He puts it in the form of
questions: IIWhat shall we do if the cleavages in any single life do not
correspond to the empi ri ca1 cl eavages derived from the studi es of the
average man? Can it be that our unending search for common units, now
multiplying year by year, is a kind of nomothetic fantasy? Can it be
that the structural organization of Joseph Doakes' personal ity is
untque?" (PP. 123-124) He continues by stating:

The universal problem in all idiographic research .... [is]:

adjectives cut slices across people rather than within
people. It requires more deftness with language than most of
us possess to... pinpoint individual structure. It is
precisely here that the gifts of the novelist and biographer
exceed those of the psychologist. (p.125)
These strong statements in support of the individuality of each
person's personality follow upon his earlier remarks about the situation-
variability of people. There is a parallel between Allport's point about
stability within variability and the Polanyi (1968) and Smith (1968)
dialogue. Allport's position supports the integrative factor that Smith
addresses when he suggests that an intermediate science (one of
materials, in his case) may be developed to deal with lithe two extremes
of elementary atomic physical chemistry on the hand and averaging
thermodynami cs on the other" (p.644). Allport's statement about the
 41

person who is the perceiver being, perhaps, the principle source of

variance, is reminiscent of Polanyi's (l968, p.1312) in which Polanyi
uses the example of the person viewing the perceiver as the object
(t.e., cat). Of course, looking at it from this perspective, Allport's
perceiver is the principle source of variance, but each unique individual
is the perceiver, when the science under examination is human psychology.
And therein lies the paradoxical complexity. For how can the chasms
between individuals be bridged? Allport and Smith are making similiar
suggestions from their differing perspectives within the scientific
community. They are both pointing out that perhaps the conscious
intention of the viewer, coupled with the skills of her/his professional
training, of course, may be able to provide the integrative link.
All p0 r t , no t not e d for his e nth us i a sma b0 utun con sci 0 us
psychodynamics, does nod in the direction of intuitive or aesthetic
skills being more apt, in many cases, to tap into and bring to light the
essential uniqueness of human personal ity. He is incl ined to view the
novelist and the biographer as more adept in ferreting out and describing
the distinguishing characteristics of the human personality because of
their skills in the use of language. But perhaps it is the professional
writers· rel iance on a kind of intuitive grasp of the essential
uniqueness of their fellow human creatures that is the more telling
qualification than language skills per see They trust their hunches
more, through long experience, not having the rigors of a more concrete
methodology to follow. If the writer, creative or historical, is
discerning, perceptive, empathic and honest, then s/he has a good chance
of approaching the other's uniqueness. If, moreover, s/he is able to
 42

exercise that most essential qualification for capturing the ineffable,

identified by Coleridge so aptly as lithe will ing suspension of
disbelief," then the other may be able to lift defenses and reveal more
of her/his essential self.
One reason that Allport engages so much attention in this paper may
be because he is himself so interested in bridging the gap between
nomothetic and idiographic procedures. An example of his commitment to
the integrative task stands out in the next work to be cited, Letters
from Jenny (1965). These letters were originally published by Allport in
two consecutive issues of the Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology,
to be used by Allport as a teaching device. Later he edited and
published the letters in a separate volume with extended analytical
comments. Written by an aging woman, troubled and lonely, to two young
people, a happy couple, the letters, spanning the last decade of the
woman's unhappy life, spell out a remarkable psychological portrait. In
his introductory chapter in the section on interpretations of the
letters, Allport (1965) comments somewhat apologetically for his
intrusiveness wrapped in a cloak of scientific curiosity:
The psychologist arrives on the scene....To some humans he
looks like a conceited intrude~ One critic complains that
when psychology deal s with human personal ity it says only
what 1iterature has always said, but says it less artfully.
(pp.157-158)
Pursuing the split between nomothetic and idiographic modes of
analysis, Allport (1965) states that "Jenny, like any single concrete
personality, is a specimen of human nature, but so individual and unique
that we are forced to seek the structures and 1aws of her own bei ng.
 43

... she partakes of our general human nature; but she seems to have also a
lawful regularity in her own peculiar pattern of l tfe" (Po 159). Having
stated his integrative position once again, Allport proceeds to analyze
the letters from three perspectives--the existential, the depth, the
structura1-dynamic--conc1uding with a rank ordering of the techniques on
a continuum of motivation from most to 1east consciousness. He
diagnostic formulation, cautious and tentative, is that Jenny suffers
from a character neurosis, briefly described as lIinflexib1e se1f-
centeredness" (p.221). How All port arrives at thi s succinct conc1 usi on,
using nomothetic devices (such as content analysis), as well as
idiographic techniques, by examination of interrelated traits, themes,
and patterns, is both instructive and interesting. His analysis
adequately demonstrates All oor-r's dedication to an eclectic integration
of theory and techni que.

Between All portis strong statements in the 1ate thi rties[21], the
early forties, and on into the sixties, and Runyan1s position in the
eighties, both supporting strongly the position that the unit of study
should be the individual, lies almost half a century in which other
supports of a simi1iar persuasion emerge. Among them is Robert M. Allen
(l958), whose Persona 1i ty Assessment Procedures 1ean s towa rds the
nomothetic end of the continuum. Since Allen (1958) states on the
opening page of his preface, IIInc1usion... in this volume is by deliberate
choice ll (p.ix), the section on Life history and personality, with the
Life situation assessments chapter, attests to his evaluation of it as an
important assessment tool. The opening statement of this section shows
strong support:
 44

There is no substitute for precise information of how an

individual has 1ived his 1ife. With this kind of data, the
psychologist is in an excellent position not only to
understand past and present behavior but to make fairly valid
predictions. (p.392)
Allen continues with a cautionary word. He says that the major
difficulty with life histories is obtaining "creditable and accurate
material" (p.392). He also notes that such history taking is a time-
consuming procedure. The remainder of the section gives concrete
examples of forms that can be used as interview schedules or as
guidelines for open-ended interviews. Allen also includes Allport's list
of biographical sources for personal documents.
It is important to remember that Allen is including this section on
life history as a method in his chapter entitled Life situation
assessments, whereas, as stated above, the present writer is not using
the life history as a method, but rather, following Runyan's (1982)
distinction, as "subject matter" (p.6). Of course, the warning about
credibility is still pertinent; accuracy and honesty are essentials. The
same warning woul d apply to more objective measures as well--such as
self-report questionnaires with forced choice and Likert scales.
In 1952, Robert W. White published Lives in Progress, a life history
study that stands alone as exemplar. It is packed with valuable
critiques of personality theory, reviews, and summations of various
approaches to analysis of personality development, including moral
development, cultural influences, role theory, self and identity issues
and biological roots. Sandwiched between these summations are three life
studies chosen to show "the natural growth of personal ity" (p.4). The
1ives furnish a "factual foundation" (p.v) and are used as introduction
 45

to and illustration of the theoretical account of personal development.

The third edition, publ ished in 1975, brings the 1ives of the subjects
forward and updates the theoret i ca 1 frame. White (1975) asks,
rhetorically, how best to introduce the subject of personality, and
answers his own question:
First... the initial facts of personality are the lives
of people and 1ives cannot be adequately understood unless
they are described at considerable length. The case
histories are designed to provide a solid foundation of fact
on which to anchor the discussion of concepts and theories.
..................................... . .
Second... temporal development is one of the central
facts and centra 1 problems of personal i ty, ..
............... ..

Thirdmpersonality is open to a multitude of influences

shaped by a multitude of forces. mit is complexmit cannot
be properly envisioned from a single provincial point of
view. I have represented this diversity by speaking of
social, biological, and developmental views of man. (p.vi)
And perhaps most importantly, in terms of this writer's bias, White
(1975) states:
Formerly I called the third view psychodynamic and drew
its substance from psychoanalysis, but it now seems clear to
me that the psychoanalytic theory of growth belongs with
developmental psychology, where research has been moving
impressively forward. (p.vt)
And then he says:
Finally, I have laid stress on natural growth and con-
structive activity. Personality does not stand still; under
certain circumstances it evolves in directions of greater
maturity and effectiveness. Nor is the person always a
passive victim of the forces that influence him. He is
himself a center of energy and an active agent in changing
his material and human surroundings. The study of relatively
normal people at more than one point in time provides
favorable conditions for examining natural growth. (p.v t )
 46

White ends his introduction by dedicating the book to his three subjects
and by thanking his chief associates for their help. He also notes that
"The gathering of case histories is an enormous task" (p. vii), and that
he had the assistance of "well over a hundred people" on the diagnostic
team (p.v t t ),
Another testament to the life history as a form of assessment comes
from Charles A. Daily (1971) in Assesment of Lives. In his preface he
notes:
As I reflect on my own experience, the life history is
the most impressive kind of data, whether one is making
decisions or engaging in therapy. My model is therefore
built on the life history and on the contention that this
form of data is the ultimate criterion of truth about an
individual. (p.xt t)
Daily's central thesis is that both opportunities in our society and
validation in the science of psychology are hampered by outmoded models
of assessment based upon behaviorism rather than upon humanistic
psychology. His position is qUite sweeping. He has a practical and
utilitarian purpose. He wants to change the way people are treated in
institutional settings--medical, judicial, educational, industrial,
professional--to open up opportunity to heretofore disadvantaged groups
(as well as discriminated against individuals). It is his bel ief that

nomothetic techniques of assessment have bias built into them that play
into the bias of the interviewers in the institutional settings. By way
of an example, he cites credentials, credited with being objective, and
prized by administrators for their convenience and economy, as being
essentially tools of the system. Supposedly validated, they are often
used inappropriately, in circumstances for which they were not validated.
 47

He sees the task of validation as enormous for several reasons. First,

there are only a small number of qualified professionals who are

interested in the problem. Second, the number of institutions using such

devices is large and increasing. Finally, and most important,
bureaurcratic organizations are given neither to the kind of critical

thinking required for accurate val idation, nor the kind of motivation
that challenges the system. Both would be required to enforce such
changes. Daily's solution is not simple and cannot be given in detail.
But one component of it is to use the life history as an assessment tool.
Quoting from Murray, Erikson, Charlotte Buhler and others, Daily suggests
that there may by IIA template or pattern that helps the observer think

about his own or someone e1se l s 1i fell (p. 29). He also makes the poi nt
that "Abbrevtated molecular chains of events" (p. 29) do not convey an
accurate picture of the person:

It is our fundamental assumption that there is something

in the whole that is not visible in each part....one aim of
research must be to determine the functional interconnections
among those parts, just as vital organs interact in forming
the system of the body. (p.29)

Speaking of the gain in precision of studying parts in isolation from the

whole, he says, IIBut there is a cost, and this is the loss of
understanding of the system as a whole.... In the name of science, we

analyze too far in the molecular direction and undergo a sort of

receptive aphasia as to the meaning of events", which is simil iar to
lI... a scientific illness like that in which behavior is observed but its

meaning Iost" (p.29). The last phrase quoted is ascribed to Murray. The
complete passage is reminiscent of Polanyi and Smith.
 48

Turning now, from both the Allen (1958) and Daily (1971) critiques

of life histories as assessment tools, to life histories as subject

matter, Charlotte Buhler and Fred Massarick (1968) offer yet another
perspective in The Course of Human Life. On the first page of the
preface, Buhler states that the basic hypothesis of their work is that
"All goal setting must by understood as it relates to the course of life
as a whole" (n,v), There are "principle codeterminants of goal setting
... the structure of human life itself and the genetic base set a
framework within which other factors unfold" (n.v). To these are added
"early emotional dynamics" and the "role of the self" (o.v), From the
earl iest moments of 1ife, socio-cultural factors imoinge on the goal-
setting task. Among the factors are pervasive cultural, institutional,
and class influence, as well as forces related to small group behavior.
Educational and vocational choices are strongly influenced by significant
others and reference groups in the individual's "personal world" (o.v),
The author postulates an "integrating Self" (p,v) whose function it is to
mediate among the important variables in life, such as time, meaning, and
values, helping to transform daily existence into life fulfillment (or
life failure). In her introductory essay, Charlotte Buhler states:
An effective person has a direction aimed toward certain
results, and these results are as eargerly hoped for and
expected during the midst of life as they are toward the end.
However, they mean different things to different people and
are therefore variously conceived of as being happiness or
success, possessions or accomplishments, belonging or
participating, self-improvement or self-developement.
Humanistic psychologists have agreed more or less on the
concept of self-realization, introduced by C. Jung, K.
Horney, E. Fromm, or Self-Actualization as suggested by K.
Goldstein and A. Maslow. I myself recommend the conceot of
self-fulfillment as the one which covers more completely all
of the things to which peoole actually aspire. (PP.1-2)
 49

Buhler's concept of self-fulfillment is reminiscent of White's (1959,

p.318) "competence" and "eff'ec t.ence urge". White writes from the
perspective of experimental animal psychology and psychoanalysis (1963),
both based theoretically upon drive theories. More recently, Albert
Bandura (1977) posits:
Social learning theory approaches the explanation of human
behavior in terms of a continous reciprocal interaction
between cognitive, behavioral, and environmental
determinants. Within the process of reciprocal determinism
lies the opportunity for people to influence their destiny as
well as the limits of self-direction. This conception of
human functioning then neither casts people into the role of
powerless objects controlled by environmental forces nor free
agents who can become whatever they choose. Both people and
their environments are reciprocal determinants of each other.
(p.vf t)

While Bandura does not speak in terms of the life course, he is referring
to choices of human beings over time, when he speaks of people's change
"to influence their destinyll--a phrase not unlike Buhler's IIself-
ful fi llment. II
Will iam McKinley Runyan (1978) alludes to Bandura's position when
describing the life course:
A life course orientation is concerned with sequences of
experience in the natural environment, and thus with the
processes through which persons, situations, and behaviors
influence each other over the course of time. This is
interactionism with an expl icit temporal dimension, and is
consistent with what Olweus (1977) and Bandura (1977)
describe as reciprocal interaction or Magnusson and Endler
(l977) describe as "dynamtc" interaction. It is also inter-
action with an explicit ecological dimension, in its concern
with persons' movements through a social structure and a
historical world over the course of time. (p. 84)
I n the Davi d Magnusson and Norman S. Endl er (l977) paper cited by
Runyan, these authors state that a key problem in the debate on the
person by situation by interaction issues has to do with the concept of
 50

"consts tency" (p.e), They claim that it is a pseudo-problem resulting

from a confusion of levels of analysis. The most fundamental meaning of
the term they call "coherence" (p.n. This kind of behavior is
IIpredictable without necessarily being stable in either absolute or
relative terms .... 11 (p.Z), This is true because "Jnd tv f dual behavior
across different situations provides a consistent, idiographically
predictable pattern. This is one of the basic derivations of the
interactionist model of behev tor" (pp.lO-11). It follows that,. to
discern such predictable patterns, the observer must be observing over a
course of time.
The Dan Olweus' (1977) paper cited by Runyan addresses the question
of predictability of outcomes in using the variance component technique
to analyze person-situation-interaction sequences of behavior. Olweus
believes that part of the debate around this issue arises from faulty
research formulations because the statistical methods are misunderstood.
But, more germane to the issue in thi s paper, 01 weus does support the
position that more accurate predictions are possible when person-
situation-interactions are viewed over longer time spans. Consistency is
more 1i kely to emerge "When natural soci al settings are studied...across
situations and over t tme" (p.232).
As this review moves forward through the years, it becomes obvious
that the nomothetic-idiographic debate is being mediated by person-
situation-interaction theorists. Systems theory has entered the field of
psychology; its influence is discernible in physical science as well, as
seen in the Polanyi and Smith dialogue.[22]
 51

Turning once again to life course literature, Runyan (1982) offers a

helpful definition:
The life course may be defined as the sequence of events and
experiences in a life from birth until death and the chain of
personal states and encountered situations which influence
and are i nfl uenced by th is sequence of events. The
generative questions for a life course orientation are: what
kinds of order or regularity may be found in the sequence of
events and processes in individual lives, groups of lives, or
lives in general? (p.82)
Runyan continues by explaining the difference between a more
traditional approach to the study of personality and the life course
approach. Persons are but one component of the 1 ife structure; others
are sequences of experience and the processes through which persons and
situations interact over the course of time, and the movement of persons
through social and historical worlds.
Although the present paper will have as its subject matter a life
history, it will treat it from a life course perspective, as defined by
Runyan. Analysis will not be limited to the more traditional approach
used in many psychological studies which emphasize intrapsychic dynamics.
Rather, the emphasis in this paper will be upon the kinds of analyses
described above that consider the person interacting with significant
others over time as she moves through the life course and as life
experiences unfold. Particular attention will be paid to themes that
recur and trends that evolve, weaving a pattern of life. The subjective
responses will be important components to be considered, since they play
an integral and strategic part in the development of the life course and
a key role in its unfolding history.
Runyan (l982) also defines the term "psychob toqraphy", He begins by
 52

1imiting it to "The expl icit use of formal or systematic psychological

theory" (p.201). By using the term "explicit" in the definition, he
distinguishes psychobiography from those biographies which make "implicit
use of commonsense psychology" (p.202). The use of the word
"psychology," as opposed to "psychoanalysis," includes psychoanalytic
approaches within it, without 1imiting psychobiography to that narrow
discipl ine. Finally, by not using the term personal ity theory" in the
definition, Runyan states that he intends to include within
psychobiography "Those works drawing upon the full range of resourses
from the field of psychology, including psychological concepts, data, and
methods, as well as theory, from developmental, social, and personality
psychology" (p.202). This simple statement of definition allows enough
scope to encompass the methodology that the present writer intends to
bring to bear on the life history data to be analyzed, largely from a
life course perspective as outlined above.
A word or two needs to be said about the debate between those who
favor psychoanalytic approaches to psychobiography and those who oppose
it. A heated and complex controversy rages over the merits and demerits
of the psychoanalytic method as it is applied to life histories.[23]
Runyan discusses both sides with admirable objectivity. He concludes,
after carefully weighing the pros and cons, that:
The challenge is to use psychoanalytic theory selectively, to
avoid those aspects of it which accumulating evidence
suggests are incorrect, and to self-critically consider its
implications while developing and evaluating interpretations
of the available biographical evidence. (pp.221-222)
The aspects that Runyan defines as probably incorrect are those that
relate to early psychosexual experience.
 53

There is little doubt that every life contains within it profoundly

meaningful events that lend themselves to psychoanalytic interpretations
and that remain painfully opaque and mystifying without this interpretive
tool. Runyan admits as much when he says, "Perhaps psychodynamic theory
is profoundly true in some ways, not necessarily all of it, but at least
parts of it" (p.221). The parts of it that he cites are "The concept of
unconscious motive and conflicts, the notion of identification, and the
operation of defense mechantsms" (p.221). In general, this writer agrees
with Runyan. While reserving the right to use psychoanalytic concepts
when they offer the best possible interpretation of the biographical
data, the temptation to fit data into a rigid and consistent
psychoanalytic mold will be strongly resisted. Unconscious motives are
ubiquitous and by no means limited to the object to be analyzed, but
operative equally in the observer as well as any readers. Therefore,
constant vigilance will be excercised to remain open to an eclectic
approach, using theory to inform but not to restrict or lead astray.
A particularly lively argument focuses on the question of early
childhood development as a causal determinant in the life cycle of every
individual and especially as a strong factor in the subjective responses
to 1ife experiences. This writer tends to agree with the pro side of
this agrument, that is, in the profound importance of early childhood
experience upon adult character and personality development. But Runyan
points out how problematic such analyses become because of the inability
of the psychobiographer to collect reliable data about the earliest years
of the subject's life. He also points out that many analyses tend to see
childhood experiences as the exclusive determinants, neglecting later
 54

"formative processes and influences" (p.209). For these persuasive

reasons, the present writer will be rigorous in eschewing easy solutions
to complex questions by resorting to explanations that tend to be
circular or highly speculative in nature, as psychoanalytic argument can
often become.
Allport (l965) demonstrates in his analysis of Jenny's letters how
they might be interpreted from three different theoretical positions: the
existential, the depth, and the structural-dynamic approach (f ,e.,
psychoanalytic). In this analysis, admirably qual ified and tentative,
offering a wealth of interpretive insight, Allport shows that each method
has advantages as well as limitations and possible pitfalls. The
psychoanalytic approach appears especially helpful in shedding light upon
pathology. But the speculative nature of the analysis of unconscious
dynamics, especially when early history is limited, as it tends to be in
most cases, is apparent in A11port's analysis. He also suggests that an
Eriksonian approach that leans towards the developmental end of the
dynamic method of analysis has much to recommend it. This is often true
when the life being examined is long, as it is in the present study.
Allport points out that Erikson lays stress on the developmental
unfolding of character and identity, rather than the more classical
approach of structural theory.
In closing this long section on subject matter and methodological
questions of interpretation, a quotation from Jack Block (1971) about his
research on the combined data of the Oakland Growth Study and the
Guidance Group offers a worthy summary. In Lives Through Time, Block
says:
 55

In a most fundamental way, the richness of these longitudinal

studies lies in the close observation and recording of
subject behaviors to which the subject samples were exposed.
The present efforts to integrate the IHD [Institute of Human
Development] longitudinal studies and to study developmental
processes would not have seemed worthwhile given the small
available set of immediately comparable data. •.. It is the
dossier on the subjects, each containing a wealth of
information uniquely pertinent to a particul ar 1ife, that
persuaded us to attempt the task and that gave possibility to
eventual understanding. (p.36)
Here is a clear and moving tribute to the value of the idiographic data
providing the motivation for a nomothetic study of ambitious proportions.
And finally, the historian Garraty's (1957) moving statement rounds
off and sums up all of the foregoing:
The end is understanding, the means are sympathy,
scholarship, and sensitivity. . . . biography is the
reconstruction of a human life. It attempts to describe and
evaluate one individual's career, and also to reproduce the
image upon his actions and the world in which he lived.
(p.28)

"... sympathy... and sensitivity" point in the direction of the

considerations to follow in the next section.
But, before proceeding to that section, some summary remarks are in
order. Perhaps the most important one is to call attention, again, to
the interdisciplinary role that biography plays, overlapping distinct but
related fields in the social sciences, and to emphasize that
pschobiography is the variant to be used in this study. It will be
focusing on the subject's 1ife course as she tell s it to the researcher.
The pschobiographical product, then, will be the outcome of the
interaction between the two people interrelating as subject/narrator and
researcher/interviewer. The life events will be elicited in chronolgical
order and in a widening context of the subject's personal world--from
 56

infancy, through early childhood, latency, adolescence, early adulthood,

mature and middle age--and then into the "declining" years. Throughout,
the context of place will be a backdrop as time forms the stage and as
scenes shift--from family to school to marriage and children, to career
and retirement years--with the socio-historical-political contexts also
taken into consideration. These surrounding and enveloping aspects
create the atmosphere, the milieu, in which the subject's life unfolds
and yields its meaning.
The subject matter is biography. The analytic tool is the
discipline of psychology. But the boundaries are blurred. Life is not
neatly divisible. Categories merge. The analytic task calls for
dissection, but the ongoing process of 1iving resists such techniques.
The interviewer/researcher must forge a bond with the narrator/subject in
which the subject's life becomes the object conjointly viewed and
reviewed, assessed and evaluated. The task is to keep boundaries intact,
while allowing the integrative function to operate to the end of exposing
underlying patterns over a lifetime. It is the unit of the person--the
personality, the self--that gives patterning, and hence, meaning and
val ue, to a 1ife.
Finally, before turning back from method to theoretical content, one
point needs emphasizing. Garraty (1957), the historian, stresses in the
quotation above the role of biography in revealing an individual's
personality and "Its impact upon his actions and the world in which he
lived" (p.28). As psychobiography, the emphasis is turned around. The
life course is being studied to see how it impacts upon the person and to
discern how the person construes her world to yield meaning for her life
 57

and to appraise its value. The interactional process operates in both

bi ography and psychob i ography. But that process is emphasized
differently in each. It is a matter of perspective, with the contingency
that, in psychobiography in any case, the point of view is subject to
ongoing changes and shifts in focus. The substantive content is the
same, but the perspective is always open to new and emergent meaning.

Issues of Identity
Self as Person
In the opening pages of this paper the concept of success is
examined from the point of view of motivations and strivings for
competences, accomplishments, achievements and fulfillment. White (1959)
sees such strivings as part of the biological potential of normal human
deve 1opment. McClelland et ala (1952) view the motivation for
achievement specifically as more dependent upon child-rearing practices
than biological needs. In the following pages, the concept of success is
being examined again from yet another perspective, that of creative
living as a by-product of psychological development of the self.
Before defining the self as it will be viewed in the context of this
study, however, it may be well to look again at the central question:
what insights can the life course of a successful older woman yield about
coping strategies for deal ing with losses throughout 1ife? Why is the
question of success so pivotal to this central concern? It is pivotal

because of an underlying assumption that must be made explicit. Not only

does the idea of success embrace all the conventional definitions
c1us teri ng around achi evements, accompli s hments, fu 1fi 11 ment, and
 58

satisfaction, it also includes coping with some measure of equanimity

with the routine vicissitudes of life, and with life's inevitable losses
and the pain accompanying them. And, finally, if one has 1ived
successfully, there is a tacit assumption that s/he will also die
successfully: with fortitude and dignity and even, perhaps, with grace.
Or is this too much to ask of human beings? Dylan Thomas has suggested
that the successful death is one met with rage, not equanimity. But
before taking this poetic statement too 1iterally, it might be wise to
factor in that poet's troubled personal biography!
If, however, the foregoing assumptions about the parameters of
successful 1iving are accepted as a working hypothesis, then the 1ife
history must be examined in this light. And if the examination does not
reveal that the woman is coping well with these final tasks, then the
assessment of success could need to be reexamined. On the other hand, if
the 1ife history supports such assumptions, then it should yiel d some
useful clues to apply to life journeys of others.
There is a sense in which this question has more urgency than ever
before. As the life span lengthens, more and more people are called upon
to cope with the exigencies of aging. Death comes more slowly.
Achievements won earlier in life may no longer yield the same sense of
ful fillment.
One does not usually rest upon laurels won, but, rather, one seeks
new conquests. There is a question, then, of how to learn from the past
and apply that experience to a new time and new place in the life span.
The question needs to be reframed, perhaps, to ask: What can a
successful 1ife teach us about coping with new tasks, and how can old
 59

skills be retooled to meet these new challenges? Or do we need to find

and develop new methods of coping? If so, the creative person might well
be the best model to emulate and her/his life history the most beneficial
to examine.
How the woman to be interviewed assesses herself on the dimensions
of success outlined above is also important. Whether or not her own
definitions coincide with the definitions herein; how, as well as how
much, her definitions may differ--these questions are intimately bound up
with the issue of the self that is about to be explored.
In the earlier definition of success, the emphasis is upon objective
evidence as measured by achievements and accompl ishments. But now, in
suggesting that success depends, in part, upon a self-appraisal, the
issue of affect enters the equation. For how the suject feels about
herself must be considered in any final assessment of success. No matter
how successful she may be in the eyes of others, the ultimate criterion
is how she views herself. Nor is it enough for her to agree that she
meets the world's standard, or even the standards of significant others
in her life--spouse, children, grandchildren, friends, peers. For in
approaching the ultimate task of life, leaving it with integrity, the
question of how she feels about herself is the most important criterion.
If her life has value, it must be valuable to her upon her own terms. No
matter how valuable a legacy she leaves in work and love, it is how she
construes her life that wetghs heaviest in the final analysis.
Sel f psychology, following Freud's revol utionary charting of the
psychic structure of the human mind in the early twentieth century, grew
out of the need to explain object relations. The ego as metaphor for the
 60

person as subj ect--the subj ect ive III II-- wi th both consc i ousand
unconscious aspects, answered many questions relating to intrapsychic
experience. But as psychoanalysts and other clinicians, as well as
developmental psychologists, began to examine the first dyadic
relationship that is the template for all future interpersonal
relationships, the subject 111 11 began to be viewed as an object also.
That object encompassed more than the ego, even after the expansion of
its function by Freud's followers. Object relations began to use concept
of the self to encompass the total mental apparatus of the human being,
viewed by its own ego, or by that of others.
The self is the objective counterpart, then, of the subjective 111 11;
the total psychic apparatus of the human creature as seen by itself or by
another self, functioning in the external world of objective reality.
The vast literature that has been amassed in the field of self
psychology does not need to be addressed in this study.[24] Since
psychoanalytically oriented clinicians tend to approach the self from the
perspective of treatment of pathology, this important segment of
psychology could be bypassed, were it not for one highly significant
little volume that deals with the self and creativity. D. W. Winnicott,
in Playing and Reality (1971), suggests that there is a paradox in human
development that cannot be resolved except at the peril of destroying the
true self and setting up, in its place, a false sel~ The paradox
involves the infant's use of the transitional object. Only if it is
accepted as both a part of the self and, simultaneously, as not-self, can
it perform the strategically important function of allowing the infant
access to the world of reality that transcends her/his subjective world
 61

and helps her/him bridge the void between self and other:
This paradox, once accepted and tolerated, has value for
every human individual who is not only al ive and 1iving in
this world but who is also capable of being infinitely
enriched by exploitation of the cultural link with the past
and with the future. (p.x! i)
Winnicott continues by stating his reluctance to give examples of the use
of transitional objects because he fears that such examples will be used
as classificatory and arbitrary, and he is at pains to avoid such a
process because:
The thing that I am referring to is universal and has
infinite variety. It is rather similar to the description of
the human face when we describe one in terms of shape and
eyes and nose and mouth and ears, but the fact remains that
no two faces are exactly alike and very few are even similar.
Two faces may be similar when at rest, but as soon as there
is animation they become different. (p.xii)
Once again, the unique individual reappears.
This universal experience that Winnicott is referring to is none
other than lIexperiencingll itself (p.z), It is a third realm beyond the

lIinner realityll of lIevery individual who has reached to the stage of

being a unit with a limiting membrane and an outside and inside... 11
(p.z ), This "f ntermedt ace area of experiencing ll exists, Winnicott
suggests, lias a resting-place for the individual engaged in the perpetual
human task of keeping inner and outer reality separate yet interrelated ll
(p.z), This space that Winnicott is defining partakes of the nature of
lIillusion ll (p.a),
In adulthood, it is the space that art and religion occupy, but its
boundaries are real, and if the adult fails to note them and presses
others to accept his unique illusionary territory, this becomes lithe
 62

hallmark of madness.... 11 (p.3). Adults can respect one another's

illusions and even join with others to form congenial groups with a
shared illusion. This realm of experiencing is, for the infant, what is
commonly called "pl ay" (p.13). For the adult, the same realm broadens
out to include not only art and religion, but all creative activity,
religious feeling, dreaming, and the inception and the loss of affection.
The intermediate area that overlaps subjective and objective reality,
according to Winnicott:
Constitutes the greater part of the infant1s experience, and
throughout life is retained in the intense experiencing that
belongs to the arts and to religion and to imaginative living
and to creative scientific work. (p.14)
But, later on, Winnicott is at pains to point out that he does not
equate the experiencing that yields such riches to an individual's 1ife
with the product that results: IIIt is necessary... to separate the idea

of the creation from works of art.... The creativity that concerns

me... is a universal. It belongs to being al tve" (p.67). And it is this
aliveness that gives life its meaning:
The link can be made... between creative living and living
itself, and the reasons can be studied why it is that
creative living can be lost and why the individual's feeling
that life is real or meaningful can disappear. (p.69)
This feeling that life has zest and is worth living is inextricably bound
up with playing, and IIIt is...on1y in playing that the individual child
or adult is able to be creative and to use the whole personality, and it
is only in being creative that the individual discovers the se l f" (p.54).
It is, of course, this self discovery with which Winnicott is concerned.
Without it, life is not merely unsuccessful; it is meaningless; it is
without the intrinsic quality that defines it as being itself: life. But
 63

there is great danger that in seeing the vital connection between a sense
of self and creativity the viewer will make the common mistake of
thinking that the greater the creative output, the more successful a
person is in achieving a sense of self. From this false assumption it is
easy to fall into the error of searching for connections between the
product and the process. But, according to Winnicott, there is no
necessary connection. It is only the process that makes the difference
between true and false selfhood:
The creative impulse is~.something that can be looked at as
a thing in itself, .~something that is present when anyone--
baby, child, adolescent, adult, old man or woman--looks in a
healthy way at anything or does anything del iberately. ~.It
is present as much in the moment-by-moment living of a
backward child who is enjoying breathing as it is in the
inspiration of an architect who suddenly knows what it is he
wishes to construct... [that] the world may witness. (p.69)
And, just to be sure that the message is clear, Winnicott states the
obverse side, speaking from the point of view of the search for the self:
A successful artist may be universally acclaimed and yet have
failed to find the self that he or she is looking for. The
self is not really to be found in what is made out of
products of the body or mi nd, however val uab1e these
constructs may be in terms of beauty, skill, and impact. If
the artist (in whatever medium) is searching for the self,
then it can be said that in all probability there is already
some failure for the artist in the field of general creative
living. The finished creation never heals the underlying
lack of sense of self. (pp.54-55)
Winnicott states that the creative impulse is, of course, present when an
artist produces a work of art, but that such impulse is a universal
given, not necessarily stronger or more viable in the artist that in
anyone else. Even when the product is impressive, it may attest more to
the artist's search for her/his true self than to the achievement of it.
This point is critical for the study at hand, for the central question
 64

assumes that, by examining the life history of a successful woman, clues

can be gleaned about how to cope with lossess that accompany aging.
There is an assumption that skills developed through past accomplishments
of life tasks will automatically help in solving future tasks. Winnicott
is pointing out that this depends upon what has motivated the prior
creative output. Were the products of the creativity a byproduct of
self-realization, of a fulfillment of the true self; or were they,
perhaps, substitute gratifications that were manifestations of a fal se
self? If the latter were to turn out to be the case, then, instead of a
zest for 1iving and an active coping with stress and loss, there woul d
perhaps be outcomes similar to those cited by Alice Miller in The Drama
of the Gifted Child (1981). In this work, Miller suggests that
narcissistic disorders, either depression or grandiosity (or al ternate
swings on this continuum), are usual outcomes of the child's need to
conform to standards of the mother rather than being free to develop a
healthy self. Using the autobiography of Herman Hesse as an example of
such an outcome, Miller sums up the case with this remark:
Despite his enormous acclaim and success, and despite the
Nobel Prize, Hesse in his mature years suffered from the
tragic and painful feeling of being separated from his true
self, which doctors refer to curtly as depression. (p.99)
From the foregoing, it should be apparent that the concept of
success needs to embrace Winnicott's delineation of a sense of the true
self, which would include the life-enhancing experience of creative
endeavor. The products of such endeavors would be the outcome of
playing, but they might look more like products of work.
Turning to other theori sts, Charlotte Buhl er and Mari anne Marschak
(1968) view creative endeavors such as those Winnicott cites as evidence
 65

of an f nd tv tdua l ts "se l t'-fu l f t l l tnq self-actualization ll (p.92). In

IIBasic Tendencies of Human Life ll , they define creative expansion as:
The tendency to advance in the world and to change it
creatively through actions or through physical or mental
productivity. This concept includes aggressive as well as
leadership behavior which an individual uses to extend his
influence and productions of any kind. •••the production of
offspring, the manufacture of a product, the establishment of
a business, or the creation of technical, scientific, or
artistic products. (p.93)
Buhler and Marschak are not unmindful of neurotic processes creeping into
this expansiveness, but they clearly see it as an important part of
creativity growing out of infant playfulness. Winnicott, on the other
hand, appears to view the creative output as a byproduct. But Winnicott
(1971) does leave room for cultural enrichment:
Where there is trust and rel iabil ity is a potential space,
one that can become an infinite area of separation, which the
baby, child, adolescent, adult may creatively fill with
playing, which in time becomes the enjoyment of the cultural
heritage. (p.108)
BCihl er and Marschak (1968) see sel f-fulfi 11 ing sel f-actual ization
beginning in the newborn. They cite the same examples that Winnicott
does for the beginning of play, (t.e., playful finger movements), their
descriptive term being II pr i mary creat tveness" (p.93). They see these
early manifestations as lIimplicit ultimate intent ll towards II s el f -
devel opment" (p.93). Winnicott might agree, but when they insist that
this leads almost automatically to concrete achievements in the world,
Winnicott would feel that there are too many other, less benign
possibil ities, to take such a fortuitous outcome for granted. Buhler's
positive outlook is expressed well in another chapter of the same work,
entitled liThe Integrating Self ll :
 66

The aspect and intent of accomplishment is related to the

tendency of creative expansion. I have found that most
people feel strongly about accomplishments. They think that
their lives should amount to something, bear fruit, and
represent an accomplishment of some kind. (There should be
"somethtnq to show for tt,") Whether or not they attain this
accomplishment greatly influences their sense of satisfaction
or dissatisfaction with their lives. (p.345)
Interestingly, however, at the end of the above statement, Buhler adds,
lilt is possible that this value is more important in our Western
civil ization than in others" (p.345). Apropos of this, Miller (1981), in
considering the possible connections between adaptation and depression,
notes that IIdepression is a disease of our time ll (p.59). She is speaking
in the context of grandiosity as the counterpart of depression. Many of
the cases she presents are high-achieving adults who have ultimately
found the goals they reached less than fulfilling. She is pointing out
that cultures other than ours provide group support for the individual.
Today, however, with our emphasis upon autonomy and individual identity,
the individual must "f ind his support within himself, if he is not to
become the victim of various interests and ideo10gies ll (p.59). Buhler's
final sentence, tacked onto the long statement quoted above, appears
almost as an afterthought. Written as it was some thirteen years prior
to Miller's--thirteen technologically advancing and culturally
accelerated years--it now reads more like a foreshadowing of pathology to
come.
Looking now at White (1975), the self he focuses on is more akin to
Buhler's than either Winnicott's or Miller's. In saying this, it should
be noted, however, that both White and Buhler are writing about
relatively healthy people, whereas Winnicott develops his theory from
clinical observations, and Miller is finding support and elaboration of
Winnicott's theory through her own clinical evidence.
White begins his passage with the statement that the concept of the
self is:
An integrative concept, needed to account for the fact that
unity is preserved even under the most diversifying social
influences. The unity of the organism is inescapable. The
self-image has its point of reference in one body, one
consciousness, one continuous series of personal memories; it
cannot be separated from our enduring sense of personal
identity. Differently as someone may behave on different
occasions, flexibly as he may respond to social atmospheres,
he remains always to some extent the same person, the same
sel f. (p.125)
White then acknowledges his debt to the sociologist C. H. Cooley and the
philosopher G. H. Mead for his views on the self. Let it be recalled
that White's book was originally published in 1952 and that Winnicott's
was published in 1971. But White's Preface to his 1975 revised edition
makes clear that he is aware of psychoanalytic theories of growth and
that he chooses to cast them in a developmental framework. Further along
in the body of his text, he takes exception to the drive theory of need
satisfaction, making this point (reminiscent of his earlier paper on
motivation):
Learning produces not just a fal se front but a real
development of motivation. Motives can be learned, and the
learned ones can become the real forces that influence
subsequent behavior. (p.220)
White falls on the side of humanistic psychologists, such as Abraham
Maslow and Charlotte Buhler (although White does not cite her work~ In
speaking of Maslow's sel f-actual izing people, White concedes that they
represent an ideal type seldom real ized. He prefers to think of "an
ideal way for each person to 1ive his 1ife [as] ... his way, his own
synthesis of personal qualities and life requirements, and it will not be
 ua

quite 1ike anyone else's ideal wayll (p.366). Having returned, once
again, to the concept of the unique individual, this may be an
appropriate note on which to rest the case of the self as person.
Before moving into the subject of self as woman, one brief look at a
short essay by Howard E. Gruber (1982) offers an interesting view of the
question of giftedness and its relation to creativity. Gruber begins by
stating that he and his students who .have been working with him in an
evolving systems approach to the study of creativity do not believe that
early gifts "necesser t ly flower into creative achievement or creative
lives ... the connection between giftedness and creativity is poorly
under-s t.ood" (p.8). The approach of these researchers leads them to
support the IIheuristic ll of looking back on the creative process and
asking what steps led up to it. Gruber then states that he uses the word
IIcr eative... in a 1arge enough sense to accommodate all sorts of effective
extraordtner-tness" (p.8-9). Later, Gruber sums up the systems approach
he is using by saying:
To put matters as briefly as possible, ... we treat the
creative person as someone constituted of three loosely
coupled systems, each evolving over long periods of time,
throughout the life history: an organization of knowledge, an
organization of affect, and an organization of purpose. (p,
21)
He ends by stating that there is at least one research tradition that
comes close to theirs, lithe person-centered work of Henry A. Murray and
his colleagues... II ! (p.21).
It is in this essay that the fusion between work and play is
explicitly stated:

In the creative process... alienation is not possible, and

th i s fact helps to account for the fus i on of work and play.
Since the goal includes novelty, the product cannot be fully
 defined in advance; playful and exploratory activity are
therefore inherent in the task. But these must be
regulated ... by a steady purpose if they are to have
productive consequences....after the fact, the creative
product may be exploited by others for ends alien to the
creator, an event painfully familiar to inventor and writer.
(p.22)

Gruber is approaching the concepts of giftedness and creativity from

the interactionist orientation growing out of systems theory and social
psychology. It is interesting to compare Winnicott's view on play and

the self with Gruber's view of the fusion of work and play in the
creative processes. Assuming that "alienation" for Gruber is analogous
to the "f'alse self" in Winnicott's terms, then the two theorists arrive
at similar conclusions from different approaches. Gruber's approach
resembles the one being used in this paper in the sense that the 1ife
course will be the subject matter looked back upon over a long period of
time. There will also be a concern for the realms he refers to as
systems and organizations: knowledge, affect, and purposes; all three of
these categories impinge upon a life of value.
Using the life history as the subject matter, the writer will
approach it from all of the perspectives outlined in the foregoing pages.
Especially will she be careful to allow the subject to speak for herself,
keeping her views foreground to assure that her assessment is explicit in
terms of the self as object. In this way the life history should be
person-centered in the traditional sense of Murray, Allport, and others.

Self
- - -as Woman
---'-"'-

In examining the concept of the self as person in the pages above,

the focus is upon the individual of today and her/his development of a
self concept that gives meaning to life and allows creative fulfillment.
 70

In the pages that follow, the focus narrows to woman and, more
specifically, to the middle to upper-middle class woman in the twentieth
century in the United States. The question being addressed is how does
this woman view herself--what is her self-concept? Does she see herself
as a more or less successful and fulfilled person, leading a meaningful
and creative life? Or does she tend to think of herself as frustrated,
alienated, and defeated?
In exploring these questions, however, it should be kept in mind
that they are being asked in relation to the life of an older woman still
living in the last fifteen years of the twentieth century, who became a
mature young woman during the first twenty years of this century. Strong
winds of change swept over this society during this brief historical
period and brought new opportunities as well as new challenges. Some of
the more sweeping events impinge directly upon what is sometimes called
"The Women's Question." To help understand questions of self-definition
that women face today, and to place the older contemporary woman within
the present mileu, and confront these questions from her perspective as
well, it may be helpful to look at the historical matrix first.
In London in 1869, John Stuart Mill published The Subjugation of
Women. Written as a philosophical polemic in support of women's right to
legal equality, it was an emotionally moving tribute to women as
complementary to men. In developing this argument, Mill states:
A woman seldom runs wild after an abstraction. The habitual
direction of her mind is to dealing with things as
individuals rather than groups, and (what is closely
connected with it) has more 1ively interest in the present
feelings of persons, which makes her consider first of all,
in anything which claims to be applied to practice, in what
manner persons will be affected by it--these two things make
her extremely unlikely to put faith in any speculation which
 71

loses sight of individuals, and deals with things as if they

exi sted for the benefit of some i magi nary entity, some mere
creation of the mind, not resolvable into the feelings of
living beings. {p.59}
There is an echo of these words, with elaborate reverberations, in a
book published over a hundred years later, Carol Gilligan's l!!!
Different Voice (1982). In developing her theory of the differences
between the way men and women view moral conflict and choices, Gilligan
outlines the history of developmental psychology. She begins by pointing
out that Freud's view of women's developmental failure rests upon his
taking the male child's development as the standard. But Gilligan's own
research experience leads her down a different path, more in harmony with
Mill's conc1usion.[25] Gi 11 igan's work with Lawrence Kohl berg fi rst
led her to question his definition of moral development. When applied to
women, it led to a conclusion analogous to Freud's: that is, to one of
deficiency. And yet Gilligan's own observations lead to a different
conclusion:
Herein lies a paradox, for the very traits that traditionally
have defined the "goodness" of women, their care for and
sensitivity to the needs of others, are those that mark them
as deficient in moral development. {p.18}
She continues by pointing our that maturity is defined from the point of
view of male development, strongly predicated on the necessity for the
young male to detach himself from his earliest identification with the
mother and establish his separation to promote individualism. The task
of the female child, on the other hand, is to understand responsibility
and relationships, rather than to determine morality around questions of
fairness and the understanding of rights and rules. It is from Piagetian
 72

thinking that Gilligan is approaching developmental theory.[26] Piaget

takes the position that conceptions about development must be derived by
looking back from its apex. This changes the premise by which it is
assessed. One cannot, therefore, jUdge women's moral maturi ty by
standards that apply to the different goals aspired to by men:
The moral ity of rights differs from the moral ity of
responsibility in its emphasis on separation rather than
connection, in its consideration of the individual rather
than the relationship as primary. (Gilligan, 1982, p.19)
In the quotation from Mill, the point of view is that of the
rational philosopher, whereas Gilligan is addressing the differences
between male and female moral judgment from the perspective of a
developmental psychologist. Both agree that it is the woman who sees
cognitive questions from the affective level of emotional connection
rather than the more abstract level of impersonal principles.
Mill is writing in England in the mid-nineteenth century in support
of legal equality for women, primarily, and for women suffrage in
particular. Today, in the United States, feminist literature covers a
broad spectrum of intellectual issues and, in so doing, forges an
alliance with liberal politics, with sociology, and with psychology of
the self. Although women have had the vote in this country for almost 65
years, they have not yet achieved the legal equal ity that Mill so
persuasively argues for 113 years ago.
Another feminist writer, Jean Baker Miller (1976), in her seminal
book, Toward ~ New Psychology of Women, casts some valuable light on the
question of why it is taking so long. Citing sex as the most basic human
difference, she moves on to point out that differences, in most instances
 73

in human history, lead to inequity that is expressed most fundamentally

in an inequality of status and power. While some inequalities (for
example, that between therapist and client) are defined as temporary, the
inequality of women is defined as "ascriptive," that is, by birth. This
situation is further complicated by the intimate relationship that exists
between the dominants (men) and the subordinates (women):
Women have played! specific role in male-led society in ways
no other suppressed groups have done. The have been
t
entwined with men in intimate and intense re afTOnSh~
creating the mifeU=-the family--in which the human mind ~.we
know it has been formed. Thus women1s situation is a cruc,aT
key to u~r~ding the psychological order. (pJ)-
Miller continues by citing Appendix 5 in An American Dilemma.[27] In
this passage, many striking parallels between the conditions of the
slaves in the south before emancipation and women throughout this
nation's history are compared. The disenfranchisement of both groups is
only one of the more obvious parallels.
But it is an article by Alice S. Rossi (1964) that deals at some
length with the more tangible reasons that it is taking so long for
feminism's battle to be won. Rossi talks about the legal victories that
were won in 1920 through the alliance of the suffragette movement with
the abolitionist movement as a first step for women in their march to
equality. But she notes" the social changes required to translate such
law into the social fabric of a society are of a quite different order.
Law by itself cannot achieve this goal" (p.609). She continues, "There
is no sex equality until women participate on an equal basis with men in
pol itics, occupations and the familYmwomen must want to participate"
(p.610). Then Rossi makes the point that the feminist movement has
 74

always been strongest when it is allied with other social reform

movements, adding:
There is an interesting and simple explanation of this:
unlike any other type of social equality, whether of race,
class, religion or nationality, sex is the only instance in
which representatives of the unequal groups live in more
intimate association with each other than with members of
their own group. A women is more intimately associated with
a man than she is with any woman. (p.610)
Rossi cites Mill's essay for corroboration of this point. Her statement
stands, in time, between Millis and the similar statement of Miller. The
point being made is that it is difficult to rebel against subjugation by
so intimate an other. Alliances with more detached groups give valuable
leverage.
The question of interest for this paper, however, is how the woman
being studied herein was able to escape entrapment and live successfully
in both worlds--the domestic and the professional. Part of the answer
must lie in the personal history of the subject. Another part of the
explanation rests in the unfolding of historical processes. Evelyn Fox
Keller (1983), in her biography, ~ Feeling for the Organism, puts a piece
of the explanation very well. Speaking of the education of Barbara
McClintock, the eighty-two year old Nobel Prize winning cytogenetecist,
Keller points out that McClintock's motivation for higher education was
viewed with considerable misgiving by her mother, but:
In a larger context it was by no means exceptional. Women
had been moving in from the periphery of American letters and
science since the early part of the nineteenth century. By
the turn of the century, the movement for higher education
for women of her class and background was in full swing.
Five women's colleges flourished in New England alone, and a
number of major universities had become coeducational.
 75

The women who took advantage of the new opportunities

open to them were... upperclass and upper-middle class women.
A disproportionate number of them came from English and
Celtic families that were usually from New England. Many of
these women chose to study science. (p.28)
Another testimonial to women's higher education in this era, this example
more anecdotal, comes from David McClelland (1975), in his book Power:
The Inner Experience. Speaking about his own beginnings, he states:
My father was president of a women's college in Jacksonville,
Illinois....The climate was one strongly supportive of
careers for women, and women's rights generallYooofounded by
Methodi sts in 1846, it was for over a century (unti 1 1956)
000

devoted exclusively to the education of women.... My mother

was typical of the small group who in the early twentieth
century had fought for higher education for women, for the
vote, and against "demon rum." She herself had graduated
from Goucher College in 1910, at a time when few women went
to college. (p.106)
But Rossi points out, in 1964, that:
American women constitute a smaller proportion of the
professional world today than they did twenty years agooooof
all the women capable of doing college work, only one out of
four do so, compared to one out of two men. (p.626)
Both Rossi in this article and Philip Slater (1970), a few years later,
in The Pursuit of Loneliness, lay some of the blame on Dr. Benjamin
Spock. Slater puts it this way:
Spock's book has tended to both encourage Pygmalionesque
fantasies in mothers and to stress the complexity of the task
of creating a person out of an infant. (p.64)
Beyond Spock, Slater follows up with a discussion about "a strange
phenomenon" that happended after World War II:
Despite more women going to college, a smaller percentage
were using this education in any waY... while single white
middle-class women were becoming more and more liberated,
married middle-class women were embracing a more totally
domestic existence than ever before. (p.65)
 76

Neither Rossi nor Slater speak of what larger societal forces, such
as post-World War II economics, might have impinged upon the American
woman's falling easy prey to the Spockian ploy to get her to stay close
to the suburban home and mind the children. To follow up this "strange
phenomenon" would lead in directions beyond the scope of this pape~ The
point to be made for present purposes is that the mature young matron of
middle-class background had become better able (for reasons not fully
articulated and perhaps not fully understood) to have both a marriage and
a career in the 1920s and 1930s than were her counterparts in the 1950s
and 1960s.
By now the point that men and women are living in different worlds
simulataneously and viewing one another from quite different perspectives
should be obvious. To understand better these differing views, Miller
(1976) has some hel pful insights. She presents some of the more
important divergent points of view first as characteristics attributed to
women and qualified as weaknesses, which, upon closer analysis, she
suggests, are also t paradoxically, strengths. The reason for the paradox
lies in the nature of the attribution:
In Western society men are encouraged to dread, abhor, or
deny feeling weak or helpless, whereas in many ways women are
encouraged to cultivate this state of being. This first and
most important point, however, is that these feel ings are
common and inevitable to all, even though our cultural
tradition unrealistically expects men to discard rather than
to acknowl edge them. (p.29)
It is because women have accepted the attribution of weakness,
vulnerability and helplessness that Miller labels these qualities as
"strengths," hence the paradox. They are strengths in women because,
since they are common human frailties in both sexes, to be effectively
 77

managed, as they repeatedly arise in every life, they must first be

recognized. In men, however, society demands these qualities be denied,
repressed, or, at the least, suppressed. Miller puts it this way, in
part:
A necessary part of all experience is a recognition of one's
weaknesses and limitations....one of the most valuable human
qualities--the ability to grow psychologically--is
necessarily an ongoing process, involving repeated feel ings
of vulnerability all through life. (p.31)
While being able to admit their weaknesses gives women the strength to
deal with them, they have been reluctant to work through specific
experiences and move on because this requires a next step, accepting
their strength. Such acceptance may open them up to being labeled
"unwomanly," just as the opposite can happen to a man should he accept
his own weaknesses, endangering thereby his self-image of "manliness."
From this position, Miller proceeds to enumerate other qualities
attributed primarily to women--emotionality, cooperation, and creativity.
Miller defines "cooperation" as "behavior that aids and enhances the
development of other human beings while advancing one's own" (p.41) and
"creativity" as lithe intense personal creating that we each must do all
through 1ife. Everyone repeatedly has to break through to a new vision
if she/he is to keep living" (p.44). Miller is careful to stress that
she is not saying that women are better or more saintly than men, but
only that, in their subordinate position, as carriers of the traits men
have projected onto them, they have learned to grow by accepting and
dealing with those traits. If they can now begin to allow themselves to
take a next step in personality growth by recognizing their strengths in
these areas, they may undo the paradox. This will not only help them,
 78

but at the same time it will facilitate the growth of men by allowing
them to face and accept their share of common human vulnerability.
Next, Miller turns to a consideration of creativity and
cooperativeness as well as authenticity, self-determination, and power.
She also points out the necessity for engaging in conflict. All of these
she considers essential human needs. But basic to these needs, and
necessary for their fulfillment, is the fostering and sustaining of human
ti es. Miller believes that attachment and affiliation make the
foundation upon which a woman's sense of self rests:
Women's sense of self becomes very much organized around
being able to make and then to maintain affiliations and
relationships. oufor many women the threat of disruption of
an affiliation is perceived not as just a loss of a
relationship but as something closer to a total loss of self.
(p.83)[28]

Unfortunately, this need for affiliation which Miller identifies as the

essential quality for the preservation of the human race has, up to now,
led women into a position of subservience. She suggests that women must
find a way to enhance their own psychological development through using
their need in constructive ways that also effect real changes in the
world. This is a political dimension of affiliation that rests upon
cooperation. The second necessity that women must face is that of
learning how to use this need in a way that is not psychologically
defeating; that util izes it as a strengh rather than a self-defeating
weakness.
In examining the misuse of affil iation, Miller suggests that the
word autonomy may need revamping, for "It carries the impl ication--and
for women therefore the threat--that one should be able to pay the price
 79

of giving up affiliations in order to become a separate and self-directed

individual ll (p.94). Miller agrees that women may, and often do, have to
give up old relationships when they develop themselves as strong and
independent individuals. Men, on the other hand, when they become
autonomous, do not find their relationships threatened. On the contrary,
male self-development wins them relationships. Since autonomy has a
di fferent effect upon males and females, and since it is "a word deri ved
from men's development, not women's" (p.9S), Miller suggests it not be
applied to women. She suggests that being oneself for a woman is more
encompassing than the term autonomy implies when referring to men.
Women's search is for full er rel ationships with others simul taneously
with the fullest possible self-development.
The word lI aut hent i c i t yll is used by Miller, in conjunction with
IIcreativity,1I to describe a process of self-discovery that some women are
embarking upon that allows them to engage with others in a more honest
and effective interpersonal exchange. The more authentic manner of
relating leads to personal creativity which Millers defines as:
A continuous process of bringing forth a changing vision of
oneself, and of oneself in relation to the world. Out of
this creation each person determines her/his next step and is
motivated to take that next step. This vision must undergo
repeated change and re-creation. Through childhood and
adulthood, too, there are inevitable changes as one grows and
then ages. These demand a change in one's re 1ati on to the
world....there are the continuous psychological changes that
lead to more experience, more perceptions, more emotions, and
more thought. It is necessary to integrate all these into a
coherent and constantly enl arging conception of one's 1ife.
(p.lll)

Out of this "per suna l v t s f on" that one creates, which is a new
conceptualization that has IInever been put together before ll (p.lll),
 80

Miller suggests there is a place, also, for conflict. She says, "Not
only are symptoms the embodiment of conflict; all of life is, too. Put
simply, the big secret that psychoanalysis found--and it is basic to all
of its other secrets--is the secret of conflict itse1f" (p.126). Miller
ends on a hopeful note. She sees women on the road to a new community in
which they are engaging in cooperative and creative endeavor to forge new
connections between knowledge, work, and personal life. She portrays an
exciting and, on the whole, a realistic view of the segment of our
society upon which her analysis is focusing. The concept of self that
she holds up for today's women is challenging and rewarding.
But for the women of an earlier generation, the grandmothers of
Miller's women, another concept of self may need to be reviewed. David
McClelland (l975), in writing about power, defines its differing
dimension for both men and women. Speaking of power as an intrapsychic
experience, it becomes a dimension of the self concept. In examining its
many facets, McC1 ell and sheds 1i ght upon some of the issues ra i sed by
Miller. McClelland speaks from his own perspective, as a male scientist
working in the experimental mode, not as a younger woman clinician whose
laboratory is the open society. McC1e11and i s findings offer a more
detached perspective--not necessarily more objective, but rather more
distanced, and yet perhaps closer to the climate prevailing in an earlier
era when the'woman who is the subject of this paper grew into maturity.
Publication dates of Miller's and McC1e11and i s books are only a year
apart. But their respective analyses reflect styles of relating
separated by the span of one, possibly two, generations. How much this
response is subjective, reflective of this writer's own perspective, how
 81

much it is an objective assessment of the differing orientations of the

two writers, which may be gender and age-related, is a moot question.
Nevertheless, it may be helpful to look at MCClelland's conclusions as
another variation on the theme of the self as woman. His assessments may
reflect those of an older woman whose 1ife course spans several
generations more accurately than do the conclusions of a younger, female
clinician.
McClelland divides power into four categories. He defines his
categories within the framework of ego development as initially outlined
by Freud and elaborated later by Erik Erikson (1950; 1963) in Childhood
and Society. With a grid, McClelland (1975) divides power along another
dimension: that of the "self" and the "other," as a person might define
the concept and its relation to subject and object at different levels of
the 1ndividual 1s psychosexual. development (p.14). At stage one, the oral
1evel, the sel f is concerned about feel ing stronger and views power as
coming into herself/himself from an outside source (t.e., God, mother,
leader, food or reading matter). At the second stage, the anal or
autonomous level, the self brings power to itself through collecting and
accumulating attributes or trappings of power. In the third stage, the
phallic or assertive level, the self is viewed as having an impact or
influence upon others. Stage four, the level of genital mutuality,
represented by dutiful behavior and principled assertiveness, sees the
self as responding to the influence of the group with which the self
identifies and as carrying out the mandates of that group. McClelland
gives examples of occupations or professions that fit the characteristic
development of the different levels. Stage one might be represented by a
 82

client or a mystic; stage two, by psychologists or collectors; the third

stage, by lawyers, politicians, journalists, teachers; stage four is the
level appropriate to scientists or managers, or great messianic leaders.
McClelland suggests that IIcr eative scientists ll fit this category because
they are IIpaying homage to scientific laws that are beyond and above man
and govern and control his behavior,1I not unlike the messianic leader who
is following "a higher Power" (p.20).
In analyzing male and female subjects across all four levels of
functioning, McClelland finds that lithe man with high n Power seems to
have an emotionally assertive style" (P.SO), whereas women IIsee their
bodies as a resource, just as the male see themselves and their bodies as
somethi ng to use for i nstrumenta 1 purposes II (e.sr), An i nteres t i ng
finding emerges for the women that is consistent across all four
developmental stages. Women high in the need for power II seem to want to
have more so that they have more to give ll (P.S7). Although McClelland
does not draw this conclusion, the concept of affilaiation as a variant
of nurturance comes easily to min~ Stage two women want IIfreedom for
controlling their l ives," whereas men at that level seek "freedom from
establ ished authority" (p.61). Women high in power needs appear less in
the autonomous mode than men, who are clearly seeking separation. Stage
three women, the assertive (phallic) level, break the affiliative
pattern. McClelland says that women high in n Power at this stage are
IIsignificantly lower in the need for Affiliation than women with low need
for Power and low stage three orientation" (p.68). Her assertiveness as
a woman, in other words, seems to imply a lessening of concern for
others, typical of the traditional sex role for women II (p.68).
 83

McClelland continues by suggesting that this type of woman1s counterpart

in classical mythology is the Greek goddess Artemis or the Roman goddess
Diana, the Huntress, the patron saint of homosexual ity in women: "She
would be in active pursuit of her own interests, not tied down by
traditional affiliative bonds to men and cht l dren" (p.69).
But in terms of the focus of this paper, the most interesting of
McClellandls findings about n Power are those relating to stage four
development, the highest category that McClelland examines:
These appear...to be more 1 iberated women--a view supported
by the fact that in general their mothers have had more
education. They are likely apt to be working in a power-
oriented job in which they take pride. They both participate
in more organizations and share more as equals with their
husbands. It is clear in the case of a woman how, having
broken away from the Stage I attachment to mal es and gone
through a phallic assertiveness stage, she can emerge more as
a person in her own right who can share on an equal basis
with her husband and join in an organization or in her role
as a family member without losing her sense of identity. How
the men behave as they emerge into the stage of mutuality and
generativity is less clear, although what clues there are
point to a diminished importance of power motivation for
attaining the highest level of maturity. (p.72)
According to McClellandls findings, then, women1s need for power
increases with maturity, whereas men1s power needs tend to become lower
as maturity increases. These results suggest a parallel with Miller's
(1976) analysis of how more authentic women should be able to develop and
the reciprocity that Miller predicts for men as women1s authenticity
increases.

Another variation on the feminine self-concept is offered by two

older women who are Jungian analysts. Following the more traditional
view of women as the passive and receptive sex and men as the autonomous
 84

and assertive one, they unfold a view of the self that encompasses an
orientation towards approaching death. The lenghty passage below is
taken from Irene Claremont de Castillejo, (1974), Knowing Woman:
The feminine in every woman is always waiting. She may not
know it if she has another more masculine side which is busy
with active achievement but I believe that every woman if she
looks deep enough will find that the essential core of her is
waiting.
As a tiny girl she waits to be grown-up, filling the
time with all sorts of occupations and study, which to the
essential growing point are qUite irrelevant. As time passes
most women quite consciously wait for a coming lover or
husband no matter how vociferously they declare the contrary.
No woman as woman can plan her future. She can plan a
career, but as woman she can only wait for the future to
unfold itself. Her lover emerges from the mists of time and
in his wake so also does the place where she will dwell •
...A woman is always wa it i ng--she mayor may not
conceive--she can only wait and see. ...This is equally true
in realms of the spirit or the intellect in both men and
women. Intellectual achievement when it is not merely
mechanical always has to wait for inspiration. It is the
feminine which waits whether it is in man or woman and it is
the masculine which moulds and formulates in either sex •
... Feminine spiritual ity I have 1 ikened el sewhere to the
sacred oil which the wise virgins kept always ready in their
lamps waiting, waiting for the coming of the bridegroom.
It is very near the final waiting of the soul for the
coming of death, a constant unceasing waiting throughout
every moment of the span of life, for the soul belongs to
death as much as it belongs to life. H.lt is the rest of our
personality that fears to die. Our animal instinct clings to
life, our minds dread the unknown, and our hearts with good
reason tremble lest we may be cut off before we have carried
out the tasks which have been set us, tasks at which
sometimes we can only guess.
It is certainly those who live fully who seem least
afraid to die. Perhaps they have left fewer tasks undone.
But it is the feminine soul in man or woman which waits
ceaselessly without fear and without impatience for the
coming of death, the last lover, who will lead to a new
unfolding. I am aware that I am going beyond the boundaries
of the provable. I am not out to prove anything. I am
merely offering you the fruits of my own minute experience,
 85

in no attempt to be scientific. If they do not ring a bell

or touch a chord of sympathetic knowing from my readers it
matters not at all. (pp.178-179)
A much more abbreviated comment from the other older woman's
journal, Florida Scott-Maxwell (1979), The Measure of ~ Days, has this
to say:
It has taken me all the time lIve had to become myself, yet
now that I am old there are times when I feel I am barely
here, no room for me at all. I remember that in the last
months of my pregnancies the child seemed to claim most of my
body, my strength, my breath, and I held on wondering if my
burden was my enemy, uncertain as to whether my life was at
all mine. Is life pregnancy? That would make death a birth.
(p.76)
It is as though their clarifications about their selves that long and
well-spent lives have yielded them also bring to these aging women views
of death as a culmination of fulfilled lives. The similar metaphor, the
one of death as a lover who will lead the woman to a new unfolding and
the other of death as a kind of rebirth, are part of a long and respected
traditional view of death held by women throughout centuries of Western
civilization. A scholarly view of this tradition is given by David
McClelland (1964) as an introduction to a study of the theme of death as
a demonic lover in The Harlequin Comp1ex.[29]
McClelland suggests that the prototypic form for the theme is the
classical Greek myth of Demeter and Prosephone. This myth became
assimilated into the harlequin tradition in Italy and France in the
Middle Ages and has survived into the twentieth century. The research
that McClelland reviews in the article yields support for the survival of
this old folk motif in the unconscious of modern American women
approachi ng their deaths. McC1 ell and's summary statement does not, of
 86

course, provide scientific proof of the metapho~s truth that Claremont

says she cannot produce. But it does corroborate the ubiquity of its
theme:
The thrill that many women feel as the possibility of death
turns out to be a clue to a more profound understanding of
feminine psychology~ For death represents the demon lover--
the symbol of a women's own 1ife urge, which is expressed
paradoxically in the thought of yielding or dying. He
appears in many gUises. We call him Harlequin, which was his
name in the Western world for a millenium. But whatever he
is called, he has seduced many Columbines, both on the stage
and in real life; he comes to comfort middle-aged women who
tire of their husbands and to thrill older women nearing
death that separates them from mortal lovers; and he has
trapped many a wretched woman into a terrifying death while
she is yet alive, a state which modern science has labelled
schizophrenia. (p.119)
Impl icit in the theme is the mascul ine-feminine dichotomy that recurs
throughout the history of civil ization in many variants. Some of the
more problematic ones are those just reviewed in examining the self-
concept of contemporary American women. This last example presents the
woman's projection of the enemy within onto the significant other.
McClelland refers to it as her "own life urqe," One might also see it as
an alienated and denied urge for power; the ultimate power of life and
death. Integrating life and death into some resolution of the mystery of
life's paradoxes must surely be the final task of self-definition.[30]
Finally, before leaving the topic of self as woman, one more point
of view will be examined. It throws some light on how women and men in
our society tend to relate differently to losses. But primarily it deals
with some of the reasons that women today find it so difficult to
extricate themselves from positions of inequality vis-a-vis their male
partners. Both Miller (1976) and Rossi (l964) point out that the problem
 87

is exacerbated by the intimate and entwined relationships with men. But

it remains for Nancy Chodorow (1978) in The Reproduction of Mothering to
trace the temperamental differences that Gill igan (1982) speaks to so
eloquently back to their inception in childrearing practices. Chodorow
looks at the family as a sociological institution and then analyzes the
mothering role within it from a psychoanalytic perspective. She talks
about the societal value placed on the family. To continue in its
present form, the family rel ies upon the perpetuation of heterosexual
marriage or marriage-like arrangments that bring about the undesirable
outcomes of inequality and estrangement between men and women. Chodorow
(1981) refers to them as "Oedipal asymmetries and heterosexual knots"
(p.191).[31] It is the differing nature of the Oedipus complex as it is

experienced by girl s and boys that makes for the temperamental

differences between women and men. Those differences discussed above
come about because women mother their daughters differently from the way
they mother their sons. Fathers relate differently to daughters and sons
also, and this is important, too, but not as important as the mothering
relationship. Mothering comes first and is more intense.
Beginning at birth and continuing throughout early infancy, mothers
treat daughters and sons quite differently. This is related to the sex
identity of mothers and daughters. Because of sexual sameness, mothers
indentify narcissistically with their daughters. Such identification
does not occur with their opposite sexed sons; therefore:
Boys retain one primary love object throughout their boyhood•
•~the development of masculine/heterosexual object choice is
relatively continuous.... the boy resolves his oedipus
complex by repressing his attachment to his mother. He is
therefore ready in adulthood to find a primary relationship
 88

with someone 1ike his mother. (pp.231-232)

But the 1 ittle girl has a harder developmental path to negotiate. She
must switch from a same sex first love object to an opposite sex object
to achieve a heterosexual orientation. One reason this may be difficult
is because the father is remote. He is remote both physically and
emotionally. This remoteness of father, coupled with the early pre-
oedipal identification with the mother, leads to a "multilayered"
(p.233) internal oedipal situation for the girl: "Her rel ationship of
dependence and attachment to her mother, then her father, are simply
added on" (p.233-234). Because of the intense early identification of
daughter with mother, based on the same sex identity, the daughter uses
the later oedipal relationship with the father to "break her primary
uni ty [wi th] and dependence [upon]" (p.235) the mother. Another
complexity is that because of the father's remoteness--his absence from
home while working as well as his emotional detachment--he tends to be
idealized by the little girl. His real strengths and weaknesses are not
recogn i zed. Furthermore, because of the mother ' s narc iss i s tic
identification with the girl, she does not feel as loved by her mother as
her brother is or as she would like to be. She seeks from the father,
then, both a sense of her separateness from mother and a sense of being
loved for herself alone (p.236). "Since the girl's relationship to her
father develops later [than the boy·s] her sense of self is more firmaly
established" (p.237). The fusion of pre-oedipal and oedipal
relationships applies only in relation to her mother, not to her father.
Nor does the girl repress these early relationships: "This means that
she grows up with more ongoing pre-occupation with external relationships
 89

as well II (pp.237-238), than do her brothers. The 1 ittl e boy, on the

contrary, has been repressing his affect and denying relational needs,
which helps prepare him for his adult life in the world of work.
When object losses in life occur, it is women who are able to
sustain them better than men. This appears to be for two reasons.
First, women have developed their capacities for relationship more fully
than men and recognize their own needs for deep and abiding relationships
which the capacity makes possible. Second, the tie with men, coming
later in their development than men's ties to women, while based on a
rea 1 need for love, is also more real i ty-ori ented in women. Women
recognize that their need for men is partially an economic one, not
simply a need for love. Since women are able to accept and "put up with
limitations in thei~"lover or husband in exchange for some evidence of
caring and lovell (p.242) more than men are able to do in relation to
their wives or lovers, women are also less devastated by the losses. It
is not that they have less to lose; it is rather that they have more
relationships to compensate for losses, more capacity to cultivate new
ones, and a less romantic, more reality-oriented assessment of what the
loss actually means.
Although Chodorow1s subject is complex and she treats it thoroughly,
from both the male and female developmental aspects, this brief overview
concentrates on the woman1s development because of the nature of this
paper. In looking back over this section on Self as Woman, Chodorow's
analysis is helpful in spelling out how the institution of the family
rei nforces the status quo through chi 1d-reari ng practi ces. Chodorow
suggests that any real changes will occur only when men and women parent
 90

more equally, and consciously try to help both boys and girls develop

their own unique selves.

Integrity versus Despair

Integrity is the term that Erikson uses throughout the body of his

work, beginning with Childhood and Society (1963), in which he outl ines

his stages of psychosexual and corresponding psychosocial human

development. The concept of integrity symbol izes a successful

culmination of life1s developmental tasks. Combining within its
definition conditions of soundness, wholeness, and a code or system of
values, integrity represents an ideal never fully attained but only

continually striven for and occasionally approached throughout life.

There are a multitude of ways in which humankind finds perfectibil ity

problematic. There is a sense, also, in which these problems are

interrelated. But the focus of this paper is upon particular aspects of

identity--of selfhood or self-definition--that a particular aging woman

may need to invoke as her last developmental task: The attaining of some

measure of integrity in the face of impending death. It is primarily

because the particular woman is living an exceptionally full and

successful life that the study is worth undertaking.

In this present era, the last quarter of the twentieth century, and
in this particular place, the United States of America, the successful
outcome of such a task requires a resolute grappling, then, with the

question raised in the preceding section of this paper: Self as Woman.

Erikson, in two works published within a year of one another, Life
History and the Historical Moment (1975) and Dimensions of ~ New Identity
 91

(1974), deals with these two facets of development and their impingement
upon each other.
In the first book mentioned, Erikson (1975) answers questions put to
him by feminists about an essay published in 1964 that appears to many to
justify (if not glorify) the status quo of women[32]. In answering these
inquiries, Erikson invokes the popular concept of "deals ll or IIbargainingll
to help explain the complex interrelations of negative id~ntities of men
and women in the social marketplace of today. He calls the deals
hammered out between heterosexual couples "rectprocal bargaining ll and
makes the point that they reflect both inner psychological defenses as
well as broader political and ecological correspondences in the larger
society. As always, Erikson's focus includes humanity at all levels of
existence within its lens, from the intra-personal, through the
interpersonal level, which serves as mediator to the larger political
arena. He ends the essay with an eye on the global implications:
Mankind needs a guiding vision. And fate usually makes it
only too clear what the next vision must be: today, it must
be a world of order which would permi~ children chosen to
be born to develop to an adulthood that may learn to humanize
its inventions--experientially as well as technologically. I
cannot see how such an adulthood could evolve except through
an equal involvement of women and of their special models of
experience in the over-all planning and governing so far
monopol ized by men. (p.247)
The message is the same as Miller's (1976) essentially, but it comes from
a different perspective, an elder statesman of identity and crisis.
Repeatedly, Erikson speaks about the problem of negative identity,
and how to negoti ate it. In explaining its development out of child-
rearing practices, the special role of punishment meted out to children
in fostering a too harsh superego is reiterated. He puts it quite
 92

movingly in Insight and Responsibility (1964b):

The radical division into good and bad can be the sickness of
the mind...the "super-ego"... hovers over the ego as the inner
perpetuation of the child's subordination to the restraining
will of his elders. The voice of the super-ego is not always
crue1 and deri s i ve, but it is ever ready to become so
whenever the precarious balance which we call a good
conscience is upset, at which times the secret weapons of
this inner governor are revealed: the brand of shame and the
bi te of consc i ence. •.. A11 we know for certa in is the
establishment of some chronic self-doubt and some truly
terrible--even if largely sUbmerged--rage against anybody and
anything that reinforces such doub~ The "lowest" in man is
thus apt to reappear in the guise of the "h t qhes t;"
Irrational and pre-rational combinations of goodness, doubt,
and rage can re-emerge in the adult in those malignant forms
of ri ghteousness and prejudi ce whi ch we may call moral ism.
(PP. 223-224)

This latter term might also be called "self-righteousness." It is the

Achilles heel that poses as the seat of wisdom, the rational rules
invoked by humanity to codify its behavioral norms and to hold in check--
to bind--its negative identities.
When consciousness is looked at from this psychodynamic and
developmental perspective and these insights are applied by Erikson
(l974), in Dimensions of ! New Identity, to the liberation movements of
today, he says:
The Black, the young, and the female have one experience in
common: They have been the others, where the adult white
male has been II it. II And there is an intrinsic, an in-built
psychological unfreedom in all groups characterized by
stigmata which mark an irreversible difference from a
dominant type, an unfreedom not resolved by the mere promise
of political and economic equality--although, of course,
impossible without it. For built into the demand is the
(more or less) subdued rage of centuries over having been
peripheral to the central spot in a new world image [Le.,
North American]. (p.114)
And so, the proverbial cat is out of the bag, released by a wise old man
(Freudian). The same equations that are noted above in the Rossi (l964)
 93

and Miller (l976) works, of dominants and subordinates, surface now in

Erikson. But it is Erikson who cites the pivotal point that holds them
in uncertain balance: self-righteousness, irrational, super-ego rage. No
wonder these groups' demands sometimes sound strident and unruly.
Erikson (1974) continues by pointing out that, while the rage of
protest is understandable and may serve a good purpose by fueling the
fires of liberation, it soon requires a new consciousness in place of re-
repression:
It desperately needs shared insights into the inner collusion
of those discriminated against with their habitual
di scriminators. (p.ll?)
The message is not new, but it is refreshing to have it confirmed and
reiterated by the best-known and most acclaimed spokesman of personal
identity.
It could be said that Erikson has jumped on a bandwagon, to march
with the parade of feminists emerging in the sixties. But in fairness to
Erikson, the sentiments quoted above flow quite naturally from his solid,
ground-breaking work in developmental psychology, published first in 1950
and reedited in 1963. In Childhood and Society, Erikson integrates
Freud's psychosexual outline of human development with the broader
psychosocial culture in which it grows, and participates reciprocally.
He also extends the psychosexual developmental steps, which Freud
outlined as an analogue of epigenetic development, taken from embryology
into adulthood and old age. Because Erikson explains this complex of
interrelated sequential growth of the individual on physiological,
psychosexual, and psychosocial levels as occurring in stages and as
b ~e.i'\.
organized around crises (or turning points), the explanation has~
 94

oversimplified and distorted. Erikson (1963) says:

A human being... is at all times an organism, an ego, and a
member of society and is involved in all three processes of
organization. His body is exposed to pain and tensions; his
ego, to anxiety; and as a member of a society, he is
susceptible to the panic emanating from his group. (p.36)
In later years, as shown above, Erikson becomes conscious of questions
about female identity that do not surface in this earlier treatment.
That he can amend--or perhaps a better term woul d be "expand'v-hts view
to encompass the burgeon i ng femi ni s t consc i ousness may mere 1y
substantiate the validity of his earlier position. He does, indeed, show
that he is a human being capable of being actively involved in the
processes of his society as it evolves through the decades, and that his
theory can accommodate radical change.
But before summarizing the stage theory with an emphasis herein on
the last stage, one word from the quotation above must be emphasized:
"processes," Erikson is saying that a human being is "an organism, an
ego and a member of societyll and that a person is all three of these
entities simultaneously. Furthermore, these entities are actually
"processes of orqantz at ton," This means they are not static, but rather,
are in constant motion--evolving, moving forward, regressing, redoing,
undoing, developing, interacting, growing, deteriorating. The
behaviors-- l I p r o c e s s e s of organization ll-- are happening in response to
pain and tension, in the body; anxiety, of the ego; and panic, from the
larger group. Curiously, Erikson does not mention the more benign
influences, that is, pleasure, which comes into these processes from
without, as well; perhaps because his own clinical orientation has
brought the negative factors more forcibly to his attention. He does,
 9 5

however, speak against the tendency, in a footnote to the second edition,

for many readers to see the positive half of the continuum in each of the
eight stages to be read as an lI achi evement scale" (p.274). In this long
passage, Erikson points out that "the 'negative' senses ... are and remain
the dynamic counterpart of the 'positive' ones throughout 1ife ll (P. 274).
Once again, process is being emphasized. To be even clearer, Erikson
continues:
The assumption that on each stage a goodness is achieved
which is impervious to new inner conflicts and to changing
condt t tons is, I believe, a projection on child development
of that success ideology which can so dangerously pervade our
private and public daydreams and can make us inept in a
heightened struggle for a meaningful existence in a new,
industrial era of history. (p.274)
Surely, in 1 9 8 5 , " I n d u s t f
r a l " could be replaced by " e l e c t r o n t c", and

"heightened" could be changed to IIfrenetic ll ! What is most germane,

however, to the present focus in this paper is Erikson's emphasis on
process--the back and forth, up and down, and lateral movement--as the
conceptual image to be carried into a reading of his charts and diagrams,
which tend to appear stage1ike and therefore static and stepwise.
Each step is shown as a diagonal progression. But the text points
out that each stage results from an unfolding of its process as the
organism grows and develops. This natural unfolding is enhanced or
impeded by what has (or has not) developed in the prior stage of growth.
Whi 1e there is physio1 ogi c readiness required ("organi c" is Eri kson's
word), there is also a social readiness necessary in the external
environment. The home, as well as the environment beyond the home, has
its imput into the process, enhancing or impeding it. Later, as the
toddler becomes a pre-schooler, a school-age youngster, an adolescent, a
 96

young adult, a mature adult, an aging person, the environment changes and
widens and tends to become more influential on individual outcomes.
There are eight stages. The first five correspond to those outlined
by Freud. First is the oral stage which Erikson characterizes as laying
down the continuum of Basic Trust-Mistrust. This is the stage of infant
dependency, now thought of under the term "pre-Oedipal," when the young
child learns that s/he can (or cannot) be dependent in safety (p.273).
The second stage, Freud call ed "ana1. 11 Thi sis the peri od that Eri kson
labels "Autonomy vs, Shame, Doubt" (P. 273). It is in this period that

the child begins to experiment with his muscular development and

practices holding on and letting go. Erikson points out in his preface
to this stage that he is talking about these "crises" as "a series of
alternative basic attitudes" (p.251) that are both conscious and
unconscious. They are, he says, "at the same time, ways of experiencing,
accessible to introspection; ways of behaving, observable by others; and
unconscious inner stages..." (p.251). The balance that the child seeks
in this stage between his own need to choose and his inability to do this
with assurance and skill must be maintained for her/him by the trust
built up in the earlier stage and continuing into this one. This trust
must be still evident in her/his holding environment--mother, family,
home--or the child will sink into shame and self-doubt as his awkward
forays of choosing and rejecting meet with obstacles, if not failure.
Erikson suggests that "shame" is actually "rage turned against the self"
(p.252), and "Doubt is the brother of shame" (p.253). How the equation
is negotiated at this early period leads to later feelings of self-
control and, hence, self-esteem, or loss of such control, which then
 97

leads to outer control or overcontrol, ending in shame and doubt.

Stage three, the Locomotor-Genital, which Freud would label

"phal l tc" or "oedtpal ," is characterized by Erikson on the dimension of

"Initiative vs. Guilt" (p.273). Here, autonomy is enhanced by
"undertaking, planning and 'at.tecktnq'" (p.255). The cht l d's "exuberant

enjoyment" (p.255) in this stage can turn into feelings of gUilt, if the
goals sought lead to such inner diversion that self-punishment, in the
form of super-ego consci ence, overwhel ms the budding youngster. Rage,
the "tnner powerhouse" (p.257) must be submerged at thi s stage or such
retaliatory guilt will prove overwhelming to the developing ego.
The next stage, ca 11ed "Indus try vs, I nferi ori ty," represents

Freud's latency period. It corresponds to grade school age and all ows
the child to mobilize developing skills to receive systematic instruction
(p.259) and begin learning how to fit into the adult world of work that

beckons in the future. If the child does not succeed in this new arena

of school, then s/he faces a sense of inferiority and inadequacy. While

there is not the sense of mastery over drives in this period, as there is

in the previous one, Erikson reminds the reader that it is only "a lull

before the storm of puber-ty" (p.260). It is important especially for its

opportunities to learn how to work with others, to cooperate for group

goals.
Stage five is called "Identity vs, Role Confusion" and corresponds
. to the peri od known as Adolescence. Thi sis the peri od of i ntegrat i ng

all those skills learned earlier into a feeling of identity. With this
identity comes an assessment of how this emerging sense of one's own self
fits into the larger world of adulthood that one is fast approaching.
 98

The question of adult occupation and the roles and skills one brings to
it is part of forgi ng an adul t i denti ty, But, more than thi s , the
successful outcome in this period leads to an "accrued confidence" that
one is within oneself what others identify one as being. "The tangible
promise [is] of a career" (PP. 261-262). The danger here is a confusion
of one's role. It can include a doubt about sexual identity as well as
occupational uncertainty. There is often a tendency to overidentify with
ideal heroes or heroines in a attempt to resolve the confusion. The
outcome can be strongly influenced by the social mileu of the period, for
better or worse, since adolescents need to be able to place faith in the
larger society's validating "the best" (p.263).
"Intimacy vs. Isolation" is the sixth developmental phase. Erikson
sees this as the one that ushers the youth into adulthood. Intimacy is
the successful outcome. This includes love and marriage. If the young
person cannot negotiate these steps, s/he becomes di stanced and tends
toward isolation. Only at this stage can "true genitality" (p.264)
develop. Prior to this, sex life is more of an identity search. Now,
for the first time, the individual who has negotiated the earlier phases
with some degree of success, is ready for a mutually satisfying and
mutually enhancing sexual relationship. While isolation is the other end
of the continuum, Erikson also warns of the danger of the individual
becoming a partner in "isolation a deux" (p.264), which can prevent the
next developmental task, "Generativity."
The opposite of generati vity is "stagnati on:' This seventh stage,
the one of mature adul thood, encompasses the need to be needed. Men and
women, for the best possible self-development, need to invest themselves
 99

in the future, and the best way to do this, in Erikson's view, is by

procreating. But that is not enough. It is the guidance and nurturance

of offspring, one's own and/or others, that fulfill the need of the
mature adul t, Eri kson speaks here, al so, of "pr oductivity" and
. "creativity as aspects of generativity, but not as repl acements for it
(p.267). The failure in this area can lead to stagnation that is often
characterized by individuals' indulging themselves lias if they were their
own--or one another's--one and only child" (p.267). This tendency can
lead to "earl y invalidism, physical or psychological" (P. 267).
The final stage, stage eight, is that of liEgo Integrity vs. Despair"
(p.268). This stage encompasses all of life after the generativity
period--from the young old through the old old, and death. If the adult
successfully negotiates this last stage, s/he will be able to love
her/his parents with a "different love" (p.268). While accepting the
necessity of living her/his own life according to its unique pattern, the
individual also recognizes the relativity of this to other life styles,
from other times and places, as well as contemporaneously. If this kind
of perspective has not evolved, the individual is apt to fear death.
Erikson also points out that the person of integrity may be a follower;
s/he is not necessarily a leader. But if a measure of maturity is
achieved, there is evidence of that early trust so basic to all future
development. Erikson puts it thus: "Healthy children will not fear life
if their elders have integrity enough not to fear death" (p.269).
Finally, in this brief selection from Erikson's thought most salient
to the question being addressed in this paper, the following quotation
from Identity: Youth and Crisis (1968) summarizes his position on the
 100

eighth and last stage of development:

To whatever abyss ultimate concerns may lead individual men,
man as a psychological creature will face, toward the end of
his life, a new edition of an identity crisis which we may
state in the words "I am what survives of ms," (p.141)
In Erikson's view, what survives the well-lived life are institutions of
society that embody in a psychological as well as material reality those
affective qualities of human existence conveyed in the words "faith, will
power, purposefulness, competence, fidelity, love, care, wisdom--all
criteria of vital individual s t renqt h" (p.141). These words of
inspiration may flow out of that wellspring of basic trust and hope that
informs Eri kson's 1ife as well as his theory.
The psychobiography being studied will focus on the subject's self-
assessment from her present place in life, well into Erikson's eighth
stage. It should be clear from the overview, however, that the stages
become more and more enmeshed, as a life moves along its chronological
continuum. To assess where a person is along the last continuum, it is
necessary to know about her progression through the prior stages--the
roadblocks, the resolutions, frustrations, detours, advances,
regressions, as well as the integrations. Erikson's charts will act as
useful guides to measure these life paths.
Erikson (1963) makes another contribution as well. In his chapter
entitled "Toys and Reasons", he has this to say about playas it relates
to the ego:
Paraphrasing Freud, we have called play the royal road to the
understanding of the infantile ego's efforts at synthesis•
... childhood situations [can] ... illustrate the capacity of
the ego to find recreation and self-cure in the activity of
pl ay. (p.209)
 101

Erikson is speaking of the use of playas a therapeutic modality. But he

gives, as an example, a child's imaginative fantasy of himslef as a
riverboat and demonstrates how pl ay serves the youngster as an
integrative tool in mastering some tasks of growth:
To grow means to be divided into different parts which move
at different rates. A growing boy has trouble in mastering
hi s gangl ing body as well as his divided mind. He wants to
be good, if only out of expediency, and always finds he has
been bad. He wants to rebel, and finds that almost against
his will he has given in. As his time perspective permits a
glimpse of approaching adulthood he finds himself acting like
a child. (p.211)
In playing the part of the steamboat and its captain as well, this
character from Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer demonstrates, if only in fantasy,
a mastery of himself. At the same time he practices an occupational role
that he might someday fill in his adult life, that of the riverboat
captain. Erikson goes on to suggest that others might find evidence to
support the stage three level of development, the oedipal or locomotor-
genital. But it is the "ego's need to master the various areas of
lifeoooespecially those in which... [it] finds his self, his body, and his
social role wanting and trailing" (pp.211-212), that Erikson finds most
persuasive. Erikson continues by defining playas an activity that is
intermediate between fantasy and reality. It is the quality of freedom
and effortlessness that distinguishes play from other activities in life.
He continues his description of play and its borderline quality, between
the world of reality, represented by work, and the world of fantasy,
outside of time and space dimensions.
Erikson's description sounds very like Winnicott's (1971). But
there is a difference. Erikson is leading up to playas a means of
 102

working through problems, as in the example of mastery above. Winnicott,

on the other hand, sees playas the arena in which the child begins to
differentiate the self from the object and separate self from other.
Erikson puts play to use; Winnicott sees playas intrinsic to meaning and
value in life, but only if it remains spontaneous and free. Erikson and
Winnicott would surely agree on this point. But Erikson would probably
point out that it is pathology that interferes with the process of play
and makes it compulsive. By observing this behavior, the therapist may
be able lito help a ch t l ds ego to help t t s e l f" (p.209). Winnicott and
Erikson are talking about the same activity, but the emphasis is
different. The more neurotically bound up the child is, the less
spontaneous the play. Play, then, becomes a repetition compulsion, not
unlike work as it is often experienced in the day-to-day routine. By
analyzing the play of the child frustrated in the developmental task at
hand, Eri kson comes to the aid of the young ego. Thi sis analogous to
Winnicott1s example when he speaks about a pat tents free association
1eading to insights that 1 iberate (p.64). But Wi nnicott accentuates the
necessity for spontaneity. He sees this quality as the essence of
creativity, leading to self-validation: the development of the true self.
Erikson is more concerned with the ego as the guiding principle,
exercising a measure of conscious control and direction: the principle of
mastery intrinsic in his concept of ego development.
Both of these emphases may be useful in the evaluation of this life
history. How the subject uses her leisure, as well as how she approaches
her work may help reveal her self-definitions. How spontaneously does
she recreate herself, or how compulsively? How compulsively does she
 103

work, or how spontaneously? Answers to such questions can be informed by

looking to Winnicott's and Erikson's differences in emphasis.
In summarizing the section on Self ! ! Person, two views will be
stressed. First, Winnicott (1971) suggests that play, as practiced in
childhood, provides the matrix that leads to creative living. He
stresses the importance of the child's experiencing playas a forerunner
to the tndtvtdua ls developing a sense of self that gives life meaning
and value. He is careful to distinguish between playas process and the
outcomes of play that may produce products, such as fantasy, art, or
artifacts. These outcomes are not the same as the process, but are
easily confused with it. Such confusion leads the developing self away
from real ization or fulfillment (Buhler1s term, '1968) into a cul-de-sac
of meaninglessness. Winnicott calls such outcomes the "false," as
opposed to the "true II self. Spontaneity is the hallmark of play. Loss
of spontaneity ends in pathology. The line is fine and crucial. Through
the realization of the true self, a person gains a life of meaning and
value. The true self is, by virtue of its giftedness, a by-product of
play.
BUhlerls concept of the self is easier to grasp. It includes the

creative process. She also sees this developing in infancy through play.
But ~hler does not draw the fine line that Winnicott insists upon. She
includes the product in the process. For Buhler, self-fulfillment
suggests goals that lead to striving and achievement. This self-
development leads to satisfaction in life. Winnicott would agree, in
part; he would point out, however, that the greater the striving the more
probable dissatisfaction lies behind it. Buhler sees process and product
 104

less separable. She identifies self more closely with goals and
aspirations.
There is a seeming paradox embedded within these contrasting views.
Winnicott is concentrating on the split between self and object: process
and product. Confusion of one with the other leads to a loss of the
sense of the true self. Buhler is concentrating on an identity of self
with object; to achieve self-fulfillment, an individual needs to lose the
self in a larger goal. Both points appear valid. Once again, the
divergence may be more a matter of perspective and emphasis than a
substantive difference. It is the integrative task of the self that is
being addressed from divergent points of view. The answer is one of
balance with more or less constant tension among fluctuating pressures
from the environment upon the individual. The person must keep changing
patterns of responses to allow the self-equilibrium. By not locking into
a rigid response set or a stagnant posture, s/he keeps spontaneity alive.
It is the same integrative process addressed in the earlier chapters, now
being seen from the psychoanalytic and developmental perspective.
Turning next to the section on Self as Woman, the focus shifts. The
question being addressed is twofold: How a woman in the twentieth-
century Western society, specifically in the United States, sees herself
in relation to the opposite sex, and then to society as a whole. The
life being studied, that of an older woman in 1920, when women got the
franchise, just embarking on marriage and a professional life. The
United States had recently been at war; in a generation, the country
would be at war again. Between these wars lay a great depression, and
then a social revolution that would be codified into laws about which a
 105

pol itica1 battle is now amassing. Across these broad socio-po1 itica1
vistas, American women are marching to their own drummers. It is
important to be aware of the social and political climate through which
the subject has lived her life to understand her choices and values.
But the narrower focus in ths study is on how women are defining and
redefining themselves in the larger society. What they are, and are not
taking for granted, through the years, about themselves their mates,
their chi1dren--is one aspect of the question. Another is how they see
their roles: at home, at work, and in the larger society. Most of all,
women are questioning how the pie has been sl iced--not so much
quantitatively, but radically, in terms of quality and values, intrinsic
as well as extrinsic. This slow but inexorable revolution is striking at
the basic foundations of society--not just twentieth century, but human
civilization; not just here, but everywhere.
The val ues being reassessed concern freedom and justice, without
which options and choices die, and play, as Winnicott defines it--the
essence of creativity--ceases to exist. This is the battle being waged
by womankind. Its imp1 ications are only beginning to be perceived; not
yet actually grasped. The subject of this study has lived through some
of its real stirrings and is, even now, still in the marketplace, still
pursuing professional goals (writing grants; executing studies). She is
also an active mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. Her thoughts
about these roles, in the light of affi1iative ties, may also yield
insights. It is questions along these lines that will inform the
theoretical background outlined in the second section of this chapter.
 106

In the second part of the Self !! Woman section, Chodorow's (1981)

sociological approach is examined. By beginning with the family as a
highly valued institution, Chodorow shows how its child-rearing
practices, viewed from a psychoanalytic perspective, perpetuate the
temperament of men and women necessary to continue the institution of
marriage upon which the family is built. Chodorow·s thorough analysis of
the psychoanalytic literature on temperamental development of men and
women offers helpful ways of looking at woman's conception of self. She
begins with early infancy, the pre-Oedipal period, and continues into the
Oedipal phase, and finally takes development full cycle, into adulthood
and motherhood. In doing this, she shows how the cycle becomes
repetitive and self-perpetuating.
Chodorow al so emphasizes the early unbroken attachment of female
children to the mothering person, pointing out the more detached
attachment to the father figure. In doing this, she is able to explain
how the female child grows into the relational expert who fosters and
preserves affiliative bonds. Chodorow·s essay from the structural
sociological position provides a framework for seeing the individual
woman·s place within her family of origin, her later nuclear family and,
finally, her view of herself as a woman.
The differences that Chodorow notes between the ways that men and
women in our world face major losses, especially through the death of
loved ones, support findings from other sources that relate to widowhood.
That women sustain these losses more successfully appears to be related
to their being able to accept their feelings more readily and confront
the issues more forthrightly. Women are emotionally closer to reality
 107

than men.
The final part of this section, Issues of Identity, which concerns
the final developmental stage in life, brings the topic of identity to a
close. IIIntegrityl' is Er tk son'u word for a true sense of self. His
"despe i r" is anologous to Alice Miller1s (1981) "denress ton" and
Winnicott's "t al se se l f'," In utilizing Er i kson's stage theory of
identity development to understand the 1 ife course being examined, two
qualifiers will be kept foremost: development as a process, and the ego
as an integrative function of the personal ity that guides the process
throughout life. The course the ego navigates is the environment--
interpersonal, social, cultural, ecological. The vehicle is the
individual organism.
The whole section on issues of identity is devoted to articulating
some theoretical guidelines for the psychobiography to follow. The
concern is how identity concepts and self assessments develop and evolve
throughout the life course. This section takes a close look at
definitions of self and self as woman, as well as the concept of
identity, in part to inform the reader about the researcher's point of
view. But primarily the review is an aid to the researcher, as she
studies the life course and analyzes it in the light of more generalized
concerns around stresses and losses of aging, the dilemma of death, and
the meaning of 1ife.
 108

Summary

In a moving essay entitled Albert Camus: Personality as Creative

Struggle, Robert N. Wilson (l964) catches the flavor of how one man of
artistic genius portrays the human condition as a lifelong encounter with
"a world he never made but in which he must live" (p.349). This "defiant
engagement" is a "pusuit of self-awareness and competence--not mastery--
vis-a-vis his environment" (p.349). Happiness, for Camus, is "not
achieved as a state of being; personality is renewed in process, not
honed to a finished symme t ry" (p.349). Wilson is comparing camus'
artistic insights to Henry A. Murray·s scientific ones and suggesting
that they have a common theme, in seeing man as the measure that gives
meaning and pattern to life. Certainly this is true about both men, but
not alone applicable to them. Camus l expression is a rather harsh echo
of Erikson1s central message. Wilson puts it this way:
In this life, personality is both ground and product of a
harsh battle, it is a unique integrity to be created,
renewed, rewon in a quotidian fight. Man alone is involved
in a struggle without cease, a perilous war of attrition
against meaninglessness, brutal ity, injustice, and ultimate
loss of nerve. (p. 350)
Surely, this approach exemplifies an active and courageous stance in
dealing with the negative aspects of living. It is as though Camus
confronts the negative and repressed parts of himself, those affect-laden
impulses that Erikson cites as embodied in super-ego rage, and by
conscious intent directs their energy to those forces that reflect them
in the outer world.
 109

The theme of creativity weaves itself throughout the issues being

addressed in this paper around identity, the self, and motivations for
achievement, accomplishment, and success. Leona E. Tyler, in her book
Individuality (1978), has this to say about it:
What biographers do show clearly is that great artists,
writers, musicians, scientists, and others possess not only
an awesome degree of talent of some sort but also an
overriding motivation to express it. (po 129)
Linking this talent to the concept of creativity, she notes that
"Divergent thinking means becoming aware of and dealing with a great many
possibil ities" (p.193), and divergent thinking, here being equated with
one aspect, at least, of creativity, includes "fluency, flexibility,
originality, sensitivity to problems, redefinition, and elaboration"
(p.193). Surely, these are the kinds of approaches that might hel p
resolve what is being referred to as paradoxes and dilemmas of 1iving.
Citing research studies, Tyler goes on to say:
Creative persons were more open to experience, more aware of
their own feelings, wider in their interests, and more
vulnerable to some sorts of psychopathology. However, they
also possessed strong ego controls that served to keep inner
turbulence from erupting. (p.194)
She continues with a recapitulation of findings that confirm the movement
of creative women towards the norm identified as "masculine" and of
creative men in the opposite direction, in conformity with McClelland's
(1975) findings about power needs.
Returning to Wilson (l964), he suggests that creativity is closely
rel ated to concepts of freedom and awareness that focus upon bringing
order out of chaos, and then, from The Myth of Sisyphus,[33] Camus'
essay, Wilson quotes:
 110

Perhaps the great work of art has less importance in itself

than in the ordeal it demands of a man and the opportunity it
provides him of overcoming his phantoms and approaching a
little closer to his naked reality. (p.362)
Surely, Camus is talking about Winnicottls "true se lf," And it is

surely the search for meaning and value that gives life its meaning and
value. It is the process and not the product. And yet, as Erikson
(l96B, pp.139-141) points out, the human being seeks to transcend

himself. It is the transcendence that yields some measure of

satisfaction to an individual's existence. Some achieve this through
generativity in its many forms, from biological procreativity, to more

material embodiments, in Er tkson's institutions, perhaps. The paradox

surfaces again. This paper, surely, cannot resolve it. But in looking
at it through the life of another, still living embodiment of the

creative process, perhaps some light will be shed on the matter, to

illumine, if not to illuminate.
 111

METHODOLOGY
The Question

The underlying question being addressed in this paper is "What gives

life meaning and value?" or, "What constitutes success in life?" or,
"What makes a life successful?" The basic assumption is that this is a
meaningful question--that by examining one meaningful life useful
general izations will emerge. To this end, the question can be framed
hypothetically:
A psychobiography of a successful older person will reveal
patterns of living, styles of relating, life themes and an
emergent life story that has coherence, meaning and value not
only to the self whose life is presented but to others as
well; not only for the person whose life it is, but for the
human condition.
The eminent biographer Leon Ede1, in the latest edition of Writing
Lives (1984), speaks of "the figure under the carpet", which is his
metaphorical way of referring to the "keys••• to the private mythology
of the individual" (p.29). It is this private mythology that lies at the
heart of the question to be answered by the present psychobiography. The
question is, "Can a successful older woman's 1ife course, honestly to1 d
and skillfully analyzed, suggest to others how to live more
successfully?" "Can it have implications helpful to other lives?"
Success, however, must be carefully defined. One obvious and easy
measure lies in external manifestations. This usually involves a work
product: accompl i shments and achievements that are concrete and pub1i c.
 112

The person who wins recognition in a profession, field of learning, or

the arts; someone who demonstrates some outstanding skill or talent--such
people qualify as successful in the commonplace definition of the word.
The subject chosen for this study does so qualify. But that is the most
superficial, albeit the most easily generalized, definition of success.
Beyond this level, which implies a high degree of competency in some
field of endeavor, there are at least two other levels to be considered.
There is the interpersonal level of relationships--with significant
others, family and intimate friends; with peers and professional
associates; with persons in positions of authority and with subordinates;
finally, with the community and the larger society.
At still another level, there is the intrapsychic world of the self:
the area that Edel has cited, where the individual confronts herself and
lives her private, personal, internal and unique life. It is this most

intimate level of existence that most concerns the psychobiographer. For

it is in this world that success must finally find validation.
The word or phrase used to describe this kind of success might be
"contentment," or even "happiness"; more often, it is "sel f-real ization,"
"self-actual ization," or "sel f-ful fill ment," Whatever name the person
gives it, it is an assessment applied to the most deeply felt level of
personal identity. If the assessment is honest and positive, then the
person has fulfilled the criteria of success as defined in this paper.
It may, however, be easier for a person to feel positive than to be
honest. In the section above that deals with Winnicott's concepts of the
"true self" and "false self," it is the question of honesty that is being
addressed. There is no easy and simple test for such honesty. For the
 113

individual herself cannot be labeled dishonest if she cannot distinguish

between the true and false selves. This is the central idea that
Winnicott is expressing: the paradox of the self-reflective subject
objectifying itself and then unconsciously falsifying its image. This
paradox is expressed throughout the literature on the self. In
Eriksonian terms, it is the ego that struggles for the integrity of its
identity. The alternative that it falls into is despair. Winnicott's
word would be "depress ton,"
At this point, some qualifiers are in order. No human being is
expected to be either completely honest or completely false. Success is
not absolute; neither is defeat. This analysis of a life will be viewed
along a continuum. More accurately, the life course will be viewed as
unfolding among many continua of existence. Terms of lI ei t her/ or ll should
be construed, whenever possible, to include assumptions of II mor ell and/or
III ess" as well.
Life contains conflict; some interpersonal; some intrapsychic. How
conflict manifests itself in the subject's life, and how she handles,
adjusts, adapts, and integrates these conflicts into the ongoing flow of
her life course will influence the assessment of success. As age
advances, a life relatively free of conflict during childhood, youth, and
the mature middle years may become more conflicted. As has been implied
above, the stressors of advancing years, those attendant on decrements
and losses, primari ly, make growing 01 d confl ict-ridden, rather than
serene and tranquil. How earlier conflicts have been met and resolved
may furnish templates for later adaptation to more severe stresses.
 114

On the other hand, these new stressors coming upon the subject late
in life may require different responses dependent upon a utilization of
creative solutions not heretofore experienced. How the subject adapts to
change is perhaps the crucial issue. Change may be more or less benign
or traumatic. But even benign change can be stressful, since it requires
a rec i proca1 change in the agent acted upon. For example, consi der a
change from a stimulating and challenging life to one that may verge on
boredom. This is not an uncommon complaint of many people who face
retirement. If one has adapted well to the stimulating challenges of the
so-called "marketplace," then a dearth of such stimulation might be felt
not as a welcome relief but as a lapse into meaninglessness, or purpose-
lessness, or even as mindlessness.
Assuming that the conditions of the hypothetical question are met--
that the "successful older person" meets the criteria of "success" as
outlined above and that the psychobiography does yield some generalizable
principles about how to lead a life of meaning and value that others may
examine, at least two corollaries should follow. The first:
The strategies that the subject uses to cope with losses of
aging, including the final loss of life itself, should become
apparant through the process of interaction in interviewing
for the psychobiography and through analyzing evolving
patterns and methods of handling such losses which alleviate
stress and mitigate pain throughout life.
From this it follows that these strategies of coping, with their unique
variations, should point the way for others to develop their own
variations on a common theme, their own strategies for coping with the
losses accompanying aging and approaching death.
 115

Second, there is a corollary that relates to gender and issues

arising from it, issues relating to the self as woman:
If the psychobiography of a successful older person yields
insights about the human condition across the 1ife course,
then such a study of a successful older woman should yield
insights particular to women.
Moreover, since this particular life course spans over four-fifths of the
present century, it may offer some interesting perspectives on some of
the historical, political and social changes that women have been living
through and in which they continue to participate. Particular attention
will be paid to the subjects's view of herself as outlined above. In
addition, the subject's self-definition as a woman will be examined
carefully. Specifically, how the subject sees herself in the role of a
young woman pursuing an advanced education for a profession, how she
views herself as a wife, a mother, a homemaker, and, simultaneously, as a
career woman, will be looked at closely. The focus is not simply upon a
successful human being, although that is primary. The subject's identity
as a successful woman is secondary, in the generic sense, but it is of
equa1 interest.
Some of these issues will be addressed in more detail under the
section headed "Analysis of Data".
 116

The Sample[34]
The sample consists of one subject, a woman who will be called Mary.
She is 88 years old, white, middle-class and Protestant. Well known in
her profession, she was married for approximately forty years to a man
outstanding in the same field: psychology. They began their careers in
different divisions of psychology, but their interests converged early in
their shared lives. For most of their married life, they worked closely
together in a research institution within a large university that is part
of a large state system.
Mary did, however, also have a teaching position in another
department of the same university for a number of years.
At the time of Mary's and her husband's retirement, about 25 years
ago, her husband suffered a sudden, fatal heart attack. Soon afterward,
Mary came out of retirement and began working for a different university,
a large and prestigious private one in the same state. There she worked
for several years in a research program, using some of the data gathered
earlier when she and her husband had worked together.
For the last 15 years, Mary has worked as an unpaid volunteer
consultant in the same institution that her husband directed for a number
of years prior to his death.
In addition to her professional 1ife, Mary has had a rich private
life. She grew up in a nuclear family with three offspring, and her
older brother and. younger sister are still living. They live
geographically within the same region, so that visiting back and forth
several times a year is not too difficult. Mary is the mother of two
daughters, who also live within the same state. She is a grandmother and
 117

a great-grandmother. The great-grandchildren live in a town adjacent to

her own home town.
Mary is currently living in the home into which she and her husband
and the two children moved when they came from the East Coast to the West
Coast 57 years ago. A grandson occupies a small apartment in her home.
Mary's life is filled with people: friends and neighbors, peers and
proteges, intimate and extended family. It is Mary's long and complex

life course that will be studied in this psychobiography.

Procedures

Preliminary interview. The primary procedure to be used in this

study is the personal interview. Prior to these interviews, however,
will be a nonrecorded preliminary meeting between the subject and this
researcher. The purpose of this meeting will be to negotiate the
contract. Although this will be an oral agreement, it will include a
Consent Form (see Appendix A).
Practical matters, such as the number of personal interviews to be
recorded, will be discussed also at the preliminary meeting.
Appointments will be scheduled for these interviews, and the length will
be agreed upon. The subject and the researcher have agreed informally,
prior to this meeting, that the interviews should be held in the
subject's home before noon on weekdays. This tentative decision will be
confirmed or changed at the preliminary meeting, depending upon the
needs or preferences of the subject. In addition, a Biographical Fact
 118

Sheet (see Appendix B), will be completed by the researcher, hereinafter

called the interviewer, with the help of the subject, hereinafter called
the narrator. Some of the vital statistics, acquired from written
sources or learned from the narrator prior to this preliminary meeting,
will be penciled in on the fact sheet in advance to save time. These
answers will be checked for accuracy at this meeting. The fact sheet
will be used as a frame of reference for the interviewer throughout the
ongoing narrative as the recorded interviews progress. The biographical
fact sheet will serve, therefore, as a skeleton on which the narrator's
story will flesh out the life history. At this first meeting, a copy of
a chronological time line will be given to the narrator also, as an aid
for recollection of sequences of life events. This time line (see
Appendix C) will help both narrator and interviewer place several events
of the life history into historical perspective.
Finally, the matter of confidentiality will be discussed at the
preliminary meeting. The interviewer must satisfy the narrator that it
will be inviolate. Anonymity is problematic. The narrator is well known
in the field. She has been written about extensively and is referred to
qUite often in journals. She has lived and worked in this community for
almost sixty years. It would be difficult to write the kind of
psychobiography that is being outlined herein and also assure the
narrator anonymity. For these reasons, confidential ity becomes very
important. The interviewer, therefore, will promise the narrator that
any requests for deletion of material from the tapes of the recorded
interviews will be compl ied with without question. In addition, the
narrator will read the final draft of the psychobiography, and the writer
 119

will comply with any additional requests the narrator may make for
revisions and/or deletions.
Beyond these concrete matters, the preliminary interview will
provide a transition for narrator and interviewer from a quasi-social
relationship to a working one.

Interviews and interview schedules. (See Appendix D). There will be

at least six interviews, but not more than eight. Each will last
approximately one hour, with a short (ten to twenty minutes) intermission
between each half hour. Interviews will be taped on a cassette recorder
and transcribed verbatim as soon as possible following the interviews.
The plan is to encourage the narrator to tell her life story in a
chronological sequence. The questions on the interview schedules have
been generated to ascertain that issues germane to the theoretical
position outlined in the literature review and stated under the section
The Question above are covered.[35]
Each interview, including the first, following the preliminary one,
will begin by asking the narrator whether or not she would like to add
any thought, idea, or fact that might have occurred to her in the
interval between interviews. At the same time, the interviewer will have
a chance to ask for clarification about facts or issues from prior
interviews.
At the end of each interview, the interviewer will ask the narrator
if there is anything she would like to add to the particular taped
session.
 120

There is one additional question, next to the last one mentioned,

that appears on each questionnaire: "What did you like best and least
about your life at that time?" or, "What did you like best or least about
yourself at that period in your life?" This question, or reasonable
variation, will be asked to encourage introspection and self-assessment
by the narrator, as well as to inform the interviewer.
The remaining questions are framed to elicit thoughts and feelings
about the themes that the researcher believes relate to the central
questions being investigated in this study. These are questions about
the assessment or evaluation of a successful life, as "success" and
"successful II have been defined throughout this paper. The themes are:
se 1f-concepts, inc 1udi ng concepts of the self as woman; i nterpersona 1
relationships; personality patterns; personal values; professional
development; sources of gratification, regeneration, fun (in Winnicott's
terminology, "pl ay"); goals and aspirations (including disgarded ones);
finances, personal economics (money); health and illnesses (including
losses through death). Questions are framed around these issues as they
impinge on the salient events emerging in the chronological telling of
the life story.
Added to the themes enumerated above, there is an important

relationship in the 1ife of the narrator that is unusual if not unique.

It involves a longitudinal study that has continued for approximately

fifty years. The narrator has taken a number of important and diverse
roles in the study over this half-century span. She was a research
scientist who helped plan the study at its inception and analyze data
later.
 121

Still later, she was also a member of a professional team that

observed the subjects of the study, numbering in the dozens. Mo~e

recently, she has continued her role as a liason between present

researchers and the study subjects, and that role has sometimes expanded
and merged into one verging on friend and confidante to subjects, as well
as thei r fami ly members.
At the same time, the narrator has a relationship to the institution
under whose auspices the study continues. That relationship has evolved
over the years as well and shifted from one of professional staff member
to that of professional emeritus volunteer.
When it is realized that the first Director of Research of the
institution that sponsors the study was the late husband of the narrator,
that he and she worked together in setting up the study, and that, for 25
years, he was the Director of the institute, the possible ramifications
of this complex relationship in the life of the narrator become more
apparent. What the consequences may be needs to be explored with her.
In the last interview, therefore, the interviewer's approach changes to a
collegial one, from that of interviewer to interviewee as heretofore.
This change in perspective will be adopted to facilitate exploration of
the many-faceted and significant relationships in the narrator's 1ife
that have evolved throughout the study.
Other questions to be raised in the final interview are concerned
with the narrator's retrospective self assessment.
Before leaving the topic of the interviews and the questions on the
schedules, the chronological outline and its rationale should be
explained. The Eriksonian stage theory of human development, as
 122

expl icated in Childhood and Society (1963), has been taken as a model.
Without rigidly adhering to Eriksonls periods of organic, psychological,
and socio-cultural development for the unfolding of ego identity (PP.
247-274), it is nonetheless against this background that the
chronological outline for the interview schedules evolved.
The first interview covers, therefore, the early formative years,
continues into the period of elementary or grade school years, and
culminates with completion of high school. In terms of Erikson's theory,
the first five stages of his epigenetic outline are collapsed into the
first interview (p. 273).
The second interview schedule covers the college and graduate school
years and corresponds, roughly, to Erikson's sixth stage, which he calls
"Young Adulthood." This is the period that he sees as focusing on issues
of intimacy and generativity. It is during this period that the narrator
marries and begins her family life. The second interview schedule
conti nues, therefore, into Eri kson's seventh stage, 1abel ed "Adul thood,"
in which the positive equation is called "Generativity."
Interview schedule three also elicits answers to questions about
issues Erikson finds paramount in his seventh stage. This schedule takes
the 1 i fe history from ea rl y parenthood and earl y career up to
approximately 40 years of age. This period overlaps Eriksonls sixth and
seventh stages and merges into his eighth and last stage, called
IIMaturity. 'I
Interview schedule four covers the period from early middle age to
the mid-fifties, verging on young old age. This corresponds loosely to
Erikson's eighth stage in its earliest phase. The questions in this
 123

schedule concentrate on the middle years of parenting and the possible

losses through the deaths of parents or other intimates. Early successes
in career are also questioned here.
The fifth interview schedule questions career achievements in the
decade prior to usual retirement, raises issues of retirement, and
questions how the children are maturing. This schedule is
chronologically centered in the years of maturity, Erikson's last stage.
Widowhood comes suddenly to the narrator at this time and is addressed
also in this schedule.
Interview six raises questions about young old age, the decade from
65 to 75 years. These are the early years of widowhood for the narrator,
following the first two grief-stricken years. It is in these years that
the narrator faces her life without a mate and forges a new style of
living in the world. Issues concerning these radical changes are central
in this interview. Erikson's eighth stage is characterized as one in
which the ego grapples with issues of integrity versus despair. Since it
is the last stage in his design, he suggests that this is the issue that
confronts the individual from mature adult years until death. In the
framework of this study, however, this sixth interview schedule is
questioning how the narrator resolves these issues during the decade
following her husband's sudden death. This event occurs on the eve of
their retiremen~

The seventh and final interview schedule continues by examining the

narrator's relationships with the longitudinal study, as noted above.
Other questions raised in this last interview are aimed at a summation of
the narrator's life and her own evaluations about it, looking back over
 124

the full course as it has emerged in this telling of it. The primary
emphasis is on an assessment of her life in terms of the development of
the self--as person and as woman.

Standardized measure as projective technique. In addition to

answers sought to questions on the interview schedules, one other
procedure will be used to el icit information pertinent to the central
questions of this study. This is an instrument composed of two
questionnaires called IIHassles ll and IIUpliftsll (Kanner et el., 1981). It

is cited in the literature review (p.13 above). These scales attempt to

measure changes in psychological symptoms over time. In the study cited
in the journal article, positive correlations were found between hassles,
which include minor as well as major stressors of dailing living, and the
psychological symptoms, both current and subsequent. The uplifts,
pleasurable, satisfying or even joyous events in everyday life, showed a
positive correlation with symptoms for women, but not for men. This
apparent contradiction is explained in the analysis as lI a function of a
'shared' variance between upl ifts and hassles" (P. 20). In the Kanner
study, there was a modest correlation, also, for positive and negative
affect with uplifts and hassles respectively. The authors conclude that
their scales may be a better predictor of adaptational outcomes as they
rel ate to stress and coping than the usual 1ife events approach which
attempts to measure the so-called major crises of life.
In the study being undertaken here, this researcher realizes that
both the nar rat or-' s vers i on of her 1i fe hi s tory as well as the
interviewer's evaluation are subjective. The narrator's review is
 125

subject to di stort ions of memory; the i ntervi ewer's to tha t of

interpretation.
Furthermore, the principal terms of the hypothesis and sub-
hypotheses, as stated above under the heading The Question, the words
"successful," "value," "insight," and "meaning," require quite
subjective and individualized definitions for validation. Therefore, the
hassles and uplift scales appear worth administering to help in drawing
inferences relative to the hypothesis and sub-hypotheses. The scales
administered at the time of the interviews should yield data relating to
how the subject is adapting to her present life.
In the study being undertaken herein, however, the hassles and
uplift scales are being used not to predict coping strategies or
adaptational outcomes over time, nor are they being compared with any
other sampl e outcomes. They are, rather, being used only once to hel p
the interviewer/researcher gain some measure of how the narrator views
her life at the current period relative to stressors and possible
alleviators or mitigators of stress. This use is a projective one, to
gauge the narrator's state of mind and overall emotional mood--her
outlook on her present life; her morale. She is looking over the entire
course of her life from the perspective of the here and now. This
perspective serves as a filter through which the past is viewed. What is
factored in as well as what is filtered out will color and influence the
constructions she places on her past life. The facts should remain the
same, but her point of view, influenced by her generalized affect, is an
important determinant of present assessments about meaning and value
overall. The scales, therefore, offer the psychobiographer a tool for
 126

assessment beyond those connected solely with skills and intuitive gifts.
Since the scales attempt to tap intensity of stressors as well as levels
and range of stressors, they should be useful as an interpretative
device.
The instrument will be given to the subject to answer at her leisure
over the several weeks that elapse while the interviews are being
conducted. A copy of the scales is included in Appendix E. The subject
will be provided a copy in enlarged print to aid her in reading it, since
her vision is failing.
When the scales are completed, the interviewer will be able, if
appropriate, to ask for more information about any specific hassle or
uplift that may appear to be of particular importance in the present life
of the subject. These questions could be brought up during the
clarification periods prior to anyone of the interview hours.
The next section of thi s chapter on methodology is being incl uded
here under the heading of Procedures because, although it may appear to
be more theoretical than practical, it nonetheless deal s with questions
of interview techniques and procedures.

Training, Ethics, and Values

Runyan (l982) has a short but humbling passage entitled "Tretntnq"
in his chapter on The Psychobiography Debate. The first point he
addresses is on the question of how expert the psychobiographer needs to
be in both history and psychology. Not only is the psychobiographer
expected to meet certain standards of scholarship and training in both
disciplines, but s/he must also be knowledgeable enough in the field in
 127

which the subject's 1ife is involved creatively to assess properly that

life as it is revealed through work. To fail in meeting these standards
leaves the psychobiographer open to being found naive, uninformed, or
grossly incompetent.
Charles ~ Hofling (1976), using working definitions from the report
of the American Psychiatric Association's Task Force on Psychobiography,
attempts to clarify some of the problems involved in considering ethics
and scholarship in psychobiography.[36] First he makes the point that it
is the scale of the endeavor that determines whether the author is
writing psychobiography or psychohistory. Using Erikson's work as an
example, Hofling suggests that a work of this scope is not merely
psychobiography; since it encompasses the ipfluence of the subject on the
larger world, the work must be viewed as psychohistory.[37] More global
ethical issues emerge in this latter case. The most difficult case,
according to Hofl f nq, is "That in which the psychohistorian is a
psychiatrist and his subject is a prominent living person and conational"
(p, 231). It is clear, from Hofl ing's specific examples, that the kind
of public figures he has in mind, as well as the scope of the work
itself, are much larger than is involved in the present paper. This
writer, moreover, is neither a psychiatrist nor a psychologist. And,
even more telling, this paper is not intended for a large audience nor
for publication. Nevertheless, the pitfalls that Hofling points out are
important enough and the analogy to the situation of the subject and the
present writer close enough that the issues need to be raised.
Hofling is particularly concerned about unconscious psychodynamics
that may become clear, in the process of interviewing, to the
 128

interviewer, but not be accessible to the subject.[38] He suggests that,

having "been given the informed consent of his subject to make and
publish his analysis" (p. 231), which consent includes the subject's
prior reading and approving the interviewer's product, the interviewer
"would seldom encounter ethical problems which could not be solved
through good taste and common sense" (p. 231). Hofl ing extends the
requirement for informed consent to studies not for publication as well.
In the realm of scholarly issues, Hofling notes the problem Runyan
(1982) raises about the expertise of the interviewer in all relevant
fields. He suggests that the best solution would be collaboration.
Although consultation has become, according to Hofl ing, commonpl ace, it
is not enough.
Finally, Hofling turns to the question of ideological bias. He
suggests, once again, collaboration as an appropriate solution: "It
would be of high value for the psychohistorian, of whatever primary
discipl ine, to consult with other psychohistorians holding differing
ideologies" (P. 236). There is merit in Hofling's suggestion, to be
sure, but the difficulties of implementing it, both strategic and
affective, make it unlikely of gaining wide acceptance. The more it is
needed, the more resistance might be mounted against the idea.
Since Hofling realizes that many psychohistorians may be reluctant
to seek out collaboration, he ends his paper with a strong plea for "a
frank statement by the psychohistorical author" of her/his values and
ideology: "of his identity... and stance with respect to pol itical,
rel igious, social, and other val ues" (p.238).
 129

Another article on the ethical issue of the interviewer bias views

it from a different perspective. Richard H. Blum (1981) opens by stating
that "All interactions between a biographer and his human sources affect
the quality of the information gathered and ultimately the quality of the
finished biography" (p. 293). But he is concerned not so much with
conscious values and ideology as it influences outcome as with certain
problems in cognition and perception that lead to distortions that are
imposed on the life history and that interfere with "establishing a
creative milieu for the unique joint enterprise that constitutes
contemporary biography" (p, 293). The contribution that experimental
psychology makes to biography is in its "highly relevant findings about
how the mind works--memory, information processing, jUdging and
conceptualizing persons" (p. 295). These findings lead Blum to conclude
that the biographer's mind, interacting with the mind of the sUbject
being interviewed, can interpret material in such a way that the "breadth
and accuracy of portrayal" (P. 295) is limited. He continues by pointing
out that the image that the biographer or the psychologist presents from
the data base, however carefully, ski 11 fully and accurately drawn, can
only be a correspondence to the person being portrayed: "historical
'facti and biographical or autobiographical 'truth' are subject to the
same principles of probabil ity and uncertainty that are operative in
scientific observation" (p.296).
From this relativist position, Blum goes on to list some sources of
distortion that he believes to be particularly active in the biographical
enterprise. At the social psychological level, there is the all-too-
human desire to please. The subject tries to give the interviewer what
 130

the subject thinks is being sought. One way this is commonly done is by
the subject's adopting an attitude that is conventional and conforming.
Sometimes the same goal is sought by the subject exaggerating his/her own
importance.
Another source of bias that may operate is that of attributing both
cause and intent to events where there is little objective evidence to
support such attributions. Blum points out that human beings are prone
to be more negative in attribution of motives and more positive about the
powers of causation that people possess than reality often warrants.
One of the most interesting points Blum makes is about group norms.
These norms include dicta about what can be said, about values operating
in the group, about the acceptability or unacceptability of people who
are not group members, as well as stereotypes to characterize individuals
who are not known well. As a consequence of this powerful tendency
toward group norms, the interviewer and the subject may become a group,
and may unwittingly seek "consensus" as the interviews continue (p.297).
This pull to consensus can also lead the interviewer to distort in
several ways: by avoiding probes that might reveal differing points of
view; by recasting formulations to conform to a developing norm; or by
out-and-out suppression of contradictory data. If the interviewer knows
about these hazards, s/he may be able to resist them successfully. But
in doing so, s/he may provoke the subject into refusing to cooperate
further, or even into disrupting the interview completely. Blum offers
some techniques, tested in clinical situations, that may avoid
confrontations without jeopardizing honest communication. The use of
indirect questions is one. The mirroring of underlying feelings can also
 131

generate data flow. This flow may then provide the interviewer with
clues about motivations. Another helpful suggestion is to return to
questions at a later interview, phrasing them differently. The
interviewer can also offer interpretations that s/he is fairly certain
are not accurate, in the hope that the subject will then volunteer more
accurate information as a corrective.
So far, Blum has been addressing situations that distort, but
usually without fully conscious intent. At this point, he states
bluntly:
lying is quite common (see Farber, 1976; ludwig, 1965); it is
used readily to mantain self-interest, to defend against
criticism or disapproval, to maintain interpersonal harmony,
to achieve exploi tative or coercive advantages, or even for
fun, which might be a sense of triumph for the 1iar.[39] (p,
298)
In explaining this passage, Blum enumerates the many ways that lying may
be woven into the defense sytem of an individual, so that it serves
her/his needs and operates at varied levels of consciousness. Some of
his examples approach the pathological end of the spectrum, but some are
much more subt l e, mixing "lying, projecting, vanity, self-reference, and
theories of conspiracy" (p, 299). The interviewer must be skilled in
recognizing the subtler delusions of relatively normal subjects, but,
more important for the present case, in all probability, the interviewer
must be able to discern reality from group concensus. Sometimes a
subject will be consistently viewed by members of her/his own movement or
professional group. But this shared view may be radically different from
an informed one that is outside the subject's group. In such situations,
the interviewer cannot rely upon the consistent view of peer groups.
 132

They may be interpreting a factual event in a life from a genesis that is

distorted.
In speaking of memory distortions, Blum, citing Estes (1980),
suggests that human memory is rarely accurate, nor was meant to be.[40]
The main point he is making is that viewing human memory as a storage and
retrieval system tends to misrepresent it. It is constantly reorganizing
as a function of experience. There are, moreover, modifications caused
by "e motions, aging, health" (p, 300), which may result in forgetting
(which mayor may not be irreversible). Emotional distress, organic
problems in the brain or in other parts of the body (pain, physical or
emotional), or "some immediate anxiety-induced incapacity for attention
or reca l l" may induce memory loss (p. 300). Since interviews are in
themselves a common source of tension and anxiety, the interviewer should
be alert to the possibility of "dtsorqantzed presentation, forgetting,
and inconsistency" (p. 301).
Another factor, according to Bl urn, that is bound to contribute to
some distortion of the interviewee1s testimony is the interviewer
herself/himself:
Interviewing, structuring, and writing--is influenced by the
biographer1s own culture and class, his values and
personality, his interpersonal and intrapersonal experiences
as a biographer. (p, 301)
By far the greatest error caused by the interviewer comes from "1 oaded
questions, suggestions, censored hearing, selective writing, and subtle
[verbal or nonverbal gestures] rewards" which arise from lithe
interviewer's assumption that he knows what it is the respondent intends
to say" (c. 301).
 133

At this point, Blum cites Nisbett and Ross, who surveyed

experimental studies and take a pessimistic view about the ability of
human beings to gather accurate data, evaluate it, and reach valid
predictions about self and others.[41] But these errors are not due to
neurotic conflicts or emotional blocks; rather, they result from a
fundamental condition of the human mind. It is, according to these
findings, subject to faulty logical processes that lead to simplistic
theories about ourselves as well as others.
Having outlined, in some detail, the stumbling blocks to successful
biographical interviewing, Blum turns to a prescription building on
ethical foundations for trust that facilitates disclosure. In defining a
condition that he calls "paratransference," Blum differentiates it from
transference as it is defined in psychoanalysis (p. 304). It is not the
same as transference, although there are some striking similarities. If
the interviewer has successfully establ ished rapport with the subject,
paratransference will occur naturally. The interviewer will recognize
its presence when the subject begins to treat her/him in a way that would
be appropriate if s/he were the person about whom the subject is
speaking; or, if the subject actually addresses the interviewer by the
name of the other person. Sensing that s/he has become the recipient of
recollected feelings for significant persons from the subject's past, the
skillful interviewer will allow her/himself to flow with these feelings
and recollections. They are what lend authenticity to the material
collected. One primary difference, of course, between paratransference
and transference per se lies in how it is used: in the biographical
interview, it is not a therapeutic tool.
 134

As the subject becomes aware of the situation, s/he may be able to

unlock other memories and explore the past in a totally new way,
especially if the interviewer facilitates the experience through her/his
sensitive collaboration: lilt is as if one photograph shown to a person
brings to mind other forgotten pictures that are then brought out of a
closed drawer" (po 305) is the way Blum phrases the experience.[42] Blum
is speaking about the person's being interviewed for data regarding a
third person who is herself/himself the object of the biography. But the
same technique would lend itself, surely, to the subject herself/himself.
In that case, Blum's stipulation that the interviewer needs to weigh the
feelings evoked with the feelings about the same person that other
interviewees express would not apply. Of course, it would be interesting
to know how much the subject's feel ings coincide with others' testimony.
But the most important fact is the genuine response of the subject.
From such interaction as paratransference and evocation--the
interviewer's skillful eliciting of the paratransference response--
another working tool can be derived. Blum calls it "intuition" and
defines it as lithe integration of subconscious cues" (po 306). These
cues are emotional responses that the interviewer catches, as it were,
from nonverbal behavior of the subject that may bel ie her/his spoken
words.
Since the successful interviewer has now reached a point similar to
the one Hofling spoke of, that is, the interviewer may be aware of more
than the subject, a heavy ethical principle now rests upon her/him. Blum
expresses it thus:
 135

The writer of contemporary biography must simultaneously

honor his commitment to scholarship and his commitment to the
well being of his informants and the reputations of the
recently deceased. (p.307)
The commitment to the well-being of the informant is spelled out by Blum
in his description of the collaborative contract. In essence, it is an
exchange in which the subject gives freely her/his information, and the
interviewer, in return, gives a pledge to respect that trust by honoring
the subject's need for confidential ity and privacy. The bnoundaries to
be hammered out between the two people involved in this intimate
undertaking cannot be generalized; they will be uniquely tailored to the
two people that are interrelating. The final contract, however, will
evolve over the life of the relationship and will probably not be
completed until the final interview.
Blum's last statement relates to the question of theory and its
relationship to facts. He points out that an integrating biographical
theory is a prerequisite for °a meaningful biography. But the danger lies
in the theory's becoming more important in the eyes of the observer than
the data that amasses. The tolerance of ambiguity is the sine ~ non of
a competent biographer; s/he must be able to live with discrepancies.
Nevitt Sanford (1979), in an address honoring Henry Murray and
entitled Social Psychology: Its Place in Personology, gives his own
variation on the theme of interviewing that offers an interesting
complement to Blum's paper. He sees the interview as a form of action
research. Beginning with the concept of the open system, Sanford
places two individuals, researcher and researched, or interviewer and
interviewee, as the central figures in a much larger circle of
 136

interaction, the group or the organization. It is this larger

interaction that he is interested in promoting, recognizing that it is
integrally related to the dyad. His interest in the larger interaction
arises out of a desire to improve the human condition:
I am not interested in defining disciplines or the boundaries
between or among them. Instead of doing that we should
define human or social problems and ask ourselves what to do
about them. And we should start doing something now, with
the use of such knowledge as we have. (p.4)
Sanford then pays tribute to Freud as a change-maker, saying:
In Freud's practice of it, psychoanalysis was a cooperative
effort on the part of physician and patient to find out
things in order to do something to effect change, and doing
something in order to find out something. In the interaction
both were emotionally invol ved; both 1earned. (p.4)
Pointing out that people outside of the consulting room are just as
compl icated as patients, and often more interesting, Sanford begins to
develop the idea that interviewing has profound rewards for both the
subject and the interviewer. The people who are interviewed gain
insights through the process of formul ating and articul ating ideas and
thoughts that may have been inchoate until called forth by the empathic
interviewer. Being enabled to reflect on their 1ives in this manner
raises self-esteem. In turn, the interviewer benefits by seeing the
beneficial outcomes of her/his facilitating role. Opening up to the
reaction stimulated by the interviewee's response may lead to the
tntervtswers own development.
But Sanford goes beyond this and suggests that there has been a
false dichotomy between education and therapy that Freud himself did not
make. Genuine cognitive development, as distinct from mere technical
information, cannot be separated from moral and emotional developmen~
 137

In the most straightforward expression of this thought, Sanford quotes a

student who, in a moment of insight, spontaneously summed up the reason
for a seminar's success as derivative of 1I10ve and trust" (p.16).
Sanford is not suggesting, any more than is Blum, that all theoretical
knowledge is abandoned. Quite the contrary. He goes on to urge his
colleagues in the field of higher education to promote the climate of
trust that leads to deve10pment--cognitive as well as moral and
emotiona1--by sharing more of themselves: IIWe should bring more of
ourselves to our teaching, allowing students to see not only the reality
we have constructed but something of the person who did the constructing ll

(p.18). And this includes "being able to admit it when you are wrong ll

(PP. 23-24).
Turning to yet another statement on the value of a life history, one
that focuses upon the subject primarily, Dailey (1971) has this to offer:
Few undergo a searching assessment without wondering,
worrying, or thinking deeply about it. Assessment should
leave the subject person with a more helpful image of his
life, a more valid impression of what he is and what he can
do. Classical assessment paid little or no attention to this
side effect. For life-history assessment it is the main
effect. (p.63)
Taking into consideration all of the above insights and endeavoring to
integrate them so that the interviewer may faci1 itate the subject in
telling her/his life story in a way that would be reciprocally beneficial
is a challenge of some magnitude. The modest phrase of Dai1ey's, lI a more
helpful image of his life, a more valid impression of what he is and what
he can do,1I coupled with Sanford's permission lito admit it when you are
wrong,1I gives hope to the novice.
 138

But there is another article written by James M. Freeman and David

L. Krantz, The Unfulfilled Promise of Life History (1980), that raises
issues aired above in a more sweeping way. The authors suggest that the
problem is of such magnitude that this writer's hope, as expressed in the
preceding paragraph, is hopelessly premature.
Freeman and Krantz begin by pointing out the the "promise" that has
been talked about relative to life histories' contribution to knowledge
in the social science field has not materialized over the past fifty
years. They then suggest that it never will, until or unless the
relationship between narrator and interviewer is recognized as of such an
order that it "is involved in the creation of the very data he [the
narrator] analyzes" (p.B), The authors cite many examples to show that
this problem is not a newly discovered one, beginning with Allport (1942)
and Kluckhohn (1945).[43] But they do not believe it has been dealt with
forthrightly nor adequately; they think that the radical implications of
the problem are only beginning to be recognized. It is, therefore,
essential that life history data be viewed in this new light prior to any
assessment as to whether or not there is such a "promise" that might, or
might not be "fulfilled."
The promise that is not being fulfilled is the "unique" value" (p.3)
that life histories are said to be able to contribute. This rests, say
Freeman and Krantz, on "the 1ife history in its entirety" (p.4) and "the
process of taking a life history... is an integral part of a complete life
history" (p.4). There are other contributions, to be sure, but those
others can be made by other data collecting methods, Freeman and Krantz
claim. Of those contributions that 1ife histories make, only the ones
 139

that pertain to the history-taking process itself is capable, perhaps, of

making some social science analyses and assessments possible that would
not be possible in any other way. This is because "Narrated life
histories... involve the creation of a whole new body of data that
previously did not exist" (p. 6). These authors continue by pointing
out:
Life histories do not just happen as inevitable developments
integral to a society, but are...consciously staged and
directed by the investigator, even when the investigator
tries to be non-directive. The creation of a life history is
voluntary. Furthermore, the outcome of a life history is
unpredictable--neither narrator nor investigator has any way
of knowing what will be revealed about each other during the
process of creating the life history, nor have they any idea
of what the end results will be, nor their implications. (p.
9)

This position leads Freeman and Krantz to note that a large part of the
data that contributes to the history as it is written never is reported.
These data concern the relationship between the narrator and the
interviewer-editor-researcher as it is processe~ Because the data are
not reported, they cannot be assessed. Since they are inaccessible, no
one know s whether they are or are not important in develop i ng
"theoretically significant conclusions, (p.9). Finally, say the authors:
"Life histories pose puzzling problems for social scientists: the
distinction between method and content is no longer applicable, nor that
between observer and observed, editor and narrato~ The end result of a
1ife history is the combination of these" (p.s).
This writer tends to agree with Freeman and Krantz. Nevertheless,
the position being taken in this study is to view the history of the 1He
course as subject matter (see pp. 40ff above) and to apply the
 140

methodology as outlined previously in this chapter to the history. It is

important to be aware, however, that the question of content and process,
ever-present when interpersonal relationships are involved, is a central
issue in theoretical questions about life histories. This is another
reverberation of the nomothetic and idiographic debate discussed above.
It echoes the ideas expressed in the Polyani (1968) and Smith (1968)
articles, the interactionist positions mentioned above in the chapter on
The Self, as well as Winnicott's paradox of self as object. Resolution
is not possible. The best that can be hoped for is vigilant awareness on
the part of the interviewer-researcher.
In concluding this Procedures section of the chapter on Methodology,
a brief recapitulation is in order. First, the researcher will visit the
subject for an informal preliminary meeting that will introduce the
research plan to the subject and gain her written consent to participate.
At this meeting the biographical fact sheet will be completed and checked
with the subject for accuracy. The scales on Hasseles and Uplifts may be
explained to the subject and left with her at this time. Appointments
for future interviews will be scheduled. Any questions that the subject
has about the research will be entertained and answered as fully as
possible.
The six to eight hour-long interviews that follow one another at
weekly intervals will be tape-recorded narratives of the subject's life
history. By allowing the subject to narrate her history as spontaneously
as possible, without abandoning a chronological outline, the interviewer
will try to facilitate the subject's recall and encourage a high level of
disclosure. To be sure that issues pertaining to the theoretical
 141

concerns of the study are covered, the interviewer will use the questions
generated on the interview schedules as needed. The questions have been
framed to el icit information about significant events of the subject's
life and encourage thoughtful and affective responses to issues and
themes related to the theoretical concerns as they might emerge from the
context of events and responses, behavioral as well as cognitive,
throughout the life course.
The Hasseles and Uplift scales are an additional tool to aid the
interviewer in assessing the level of stress that the subject is having
in her current 1ife. By examining responses on both scales, it may be
possible to understand the coping strategies that the subject uses to
meet the challenges of life. It may also provide some hints about the

subject's present outlook on her life that might color her view of past
periods in her personal history.
The last section of Procedures assesses the importance of the
interviewer's awareness of the countless and complex ways that the
interpersonal dynamic between the narrator and interviewer can influence
the psychobiography that evolves through this process. The issue of the
possibility of arriving at an accurate life history is questioned as long
as the interpersonal relationship between narrator and interviewer is not
made an explicit part of the psychobiography. Issues of transference and
counter-transference as well as interviewer bias are raised.
Communication that is non-verbal and covert, as well as unconscious and
preconscious, are also raised. All manner of tacit assumptions and
unrecogn i zed predi spes i t ions are explored as components of the
relationship between the two people involved in constructing the document
 142

to be produced and then analyzed. One basic assumption that this paper
rests upon: that the life course is the subject matter to be assessed,
using the procedure outl ined above as methodological tools, is brought
into question and examined critically. There is no easy answer to this
criticism. The writer recognizes the enormity of the problem. It is in
the nature of the paradox examined throughout this paper from different
theoretical perspectives. Nevertheless, the task will be undertaken and
imperfectly executed. Perhaps the unique value of the life history will
not be achieved. But some value may still be realized.

Analysis of Data

In Tell ing Lives (l981), Alfred Kazin speaks about the "emphasis on
the self in America's ancestral Protestantism" (p.76) in his essay
entitled The Self as History: Reflections on Autobiography. The kernel
of his message, as it relates to this study, is that lI a basic function of
such writing is to cure oneself of guilt and sal f'-dtv is ton" (p.79). And
Kazin continues with this statement: IIFor the nonfiction writer, as I can

testify, personal history is directly an effort to find salvation, to

make one's own experience come out right" (p.79).
Another contributor to Tell ing Lives (1981). Leon Edel, in speaking
primarily about biography written from carefully edited archives, has
this to say:
 143

The biographer must learn to know the [revealing mask of

life] ... and in doing this he will have won half the battle.
The other half is his real battle, the most difficult part of
his task--his search for what I call the figure under the
carpet, the evidence in the reverse of the tapestry, the
1i fe-myth of a gi ven mask... in our quest for the 1i fe-myth we
tread on dangerous speculative and inferential ground•• ~For
we must read certain psychological signs that enable us to
understand what people are really saying behind the faces
they put on, behind the utterances they allow themselves to
make before the world.... If one approaches [a subject] with
the right questions, one carries a series of important keys
to locked doors. The right doors will open if the right
questions are asked; the mountains of trivia will melt away,
and essences will emerge. (PP. 24-55)
Following this aesthetically satisfying description, Edel explains in
more concrete, less metaphorical terms what he means. By giving examples
from biographies that have been more or less successful at discovering
and disclosing "the reverse of the tapestry," Edel shows the reader the
"essences" that have been distilled. But he also says that he is "not
aware that [biographers] have consciously sought to describe a method"
(Po 25), and he continues by pointing out that it is easy to do this,

"nor can this method be mechanically learned. It requires a certain kind

of talent, a certain kind of look at the reverse of a tapestry" (PP. 25-
26). Before leaving Ede ls apt metaphor for more concrete details, it
should be noted that his essay makes it quite clear that he does not mean
to convey a simple reverse image as the correct approach. Rather, he is
at pains to explain that the essences he seeks are not positives or
negatives or any other polarized opposites, but rather some sub-stratum
of identity integration that may outwardly manifest itself as either or
both sides of this familiar coin. Furthermore, there is no easy formula,
no mathematical equation, to test the validity of one's analysis--not
 144

even a technique. One cannot point to characteristics of smoothness or

ambiguity; simplicity or complexity, or any other sure descriptions of
success. How then, can one tell? This is the riddle left to be solved.
Some attempt must be made to describe an adequate approach to the
analysis of data gathered.
To develop some guidelines, it may help to look to a trained
psychologist who has specialized in psychobiography. Runyan (l982), in
his chapter on psychobiography, has raised some issues about evidence
that are important to consider. Like Edel, Runyan is speaking about
archival data, primarily. In the particular study undertaken here, the
evidence is to be gathered from the subject, primarily. Even when
archival data are consulted, the subject herself will be turned to for
confirmation and verification of it. This throws the researcher back
into the complex morass of interpersonal process described above, in the
previous section on Procedures, as well as in the immediately previous
paragraphs.
The first problem that needs addressing is the mass of data that
will emerge from the taped interviews. In the procedural explanation, as
outlined above, the researcher's plan is to elicit a chronological
narrative that is loosely structured by a historical, societal time
frame. This frame is meant to guide the narrator and to stimulate her
memory, but not to restrict or limit her. It is being introduced in the

service of order, as opposed to choas, to encourage a free flow of

information and facilitate communication. The assumption is that a
certain amount of structure and coherence are necessary concomitants for
the kind of communication that leads to insight and understanding. The
 145

danger is, of course, that this (or any) structure also can lead to
distortions, oversimplifications, and outright falsification. This
brings the question back to that of evidence. Runyan is right to insist
upon it as the basic matter to be examined in addressing the question of
method in psychobiography. But there is no gainsaying that a life as
long and as rich as the one to be examined here must be subject to, at
the very least, the kind of distortion of evidence endemic to
condensation. This is, however, only the first simplification. The
second may be even more critical. In attempting to assure that data be
forthcoming on the issues outlined in the literature review and
highlighted in the section on The Question, the focus has been further
refined, and, by definition, restricted. Certain questions related to
themes around issues of successful living will be pursued through the
interviews. And yet, with both limitations, the danger of too much
data--to assimilate, integrate, evaluate--still looms large. Runyan
states that historians question most the quality of evidence that
psychobiography relies upon. Very often, that criticism is of quality,
restricted by a lack of quantity. In this case, it is the quality itself
that may inhibit the assessment of the evidence. In the final analysis,
the evidence to be used will come from the subject's 1ife, as she sees
it. Since the subject is a woman of impeccable character and a high
order of intelligence who is freely entering this contract with some
measure of good-will, the evidence she will give will be towards the
positive end of that continuum.
But what about the researcher? She also wants to succeed: to do an
adequate and creditable piece of work; to "meet the standard." The task
 146

is formidable but not insurmountable. She comes to it after considerable

discipline in the humanities and some in the social sciences. She thinks
of herself as a person of both integrity and good-will. She and the
subject, both as individuals. and as a dyadic group, will grapple with
this question of evidence throughout the undertaking. For the outcome of
this task rests upon conclusions jointly reached, based upon the evidence
amassed.
A second criticism about lack of evidence that Runyan cites is that
much psychobiography is not subject to verification through classical
analytic techniques: dream analysis and free association, as well as
extensive memories from early childhood. But even were the biographer
working from a live subject, unless s/he were a trained and experieenced
psychoanalyst and unless the subject were also her/his patient, the more
analytical data would not, in itself, promise a more accurate biography.
Since, in the present case, the subject is not a case study in pathology,
but rather an example of successful living, these criticisms are less
telling.
There is one point, not unrelated to the first consideration
discussed above, that places this psychobiography, according to Runyan's
criterion, in an enviable position:
The psychobiographer has the advantage of having information
about a person who has lived [almost] his or her entire life.
Patients in psychoanalysis are often relatively young, and
may not yet have 1i ved through important 1i fe experi ences
such as the rearing of children, the peak of their career, or
the death of their parents [or spouse]. Reactions to these
experiences, which may be revelatory of personality, are thus
not available for interpretation .... Not only the
development and mid-stages of life are available for
inspection but also its ... unfo1ding [leading towards its]
 147

final reso1ution.[44] (p.204)

Runyan continues with a section called "Reductionism," in which he cites
the danger of reasoning from evidence taken at a later stage in life to
lead back to hypotheses about earlier undocumented facts. This is not a
matter that concerns the present study. Unless the evidence is given, or
un1 ess hypotheses are confi rmed by the subject, they wi11 not be
entertained.
There is another charge against psychobiography, however, that could
occur in this study unless carefully watched, that is a form of
"reductionism" (po 208), to use Runyan's terms, that is a tendency to
give data a personal psychogenic interpretation when they might be more
accurately explained as an outcome of social issues. These determinants
might rest on the broader social context of a subject's life: her social
milieu, as defined by economics and class; her professional environment;
her family or extended family responsibilities or commitments; even
conventional styles in value and points of view. Of course all of these
are related to personal issues that are psychological. They are not,
however, to be explained solely in psychodynamic terms. Beyond this
level, there is the historical nexus within which a life is lived. This
is bounded by a time frame, but is also closely tied to geography and
national boundaries, as well as geopolitical boundaries. It is not
unrelated to genealogical considerations that rest, in part, on ethnic,
religious, and familial histories. A case in point is the quotation
cited in the opening of this section and the Analysis of the Data,
referring to "America's ancestral Protestanism."[45] It is easy to
explain all manner of biographical details in psychodynamic terms and
 148

relate them to psychogenic developmental issues from childhood, for

example, to achieve an "art.tst tc qrace" (P. 29), as Runyan puts it. But
such analyses run the risk of elaborate distortion and falsification.
It is the oversimplification of the life course that is at issue in
these instances. The complexity is the problem. The a11-too-human
desire to achieve order and meaning in life leads to confounding the
problems. But without such desire, the task would not be undertaken in
the first place. Psychobiography, like all worthwhile efforts, requires
a great deal of tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty--a willingness to
live without absolutes. It requires, in short, the acceptance of the
se1f-correcting 1aw of modern science: the wi 11 ingness to give up or
modify a hypothesis in the face of disconfirming evidence. It is this

kind of approach that will be used in the analysis of the 1ife course.
Applied to human development, this willingness to keep the verdict
amenable to revision fits into the developmental and interactional frame
of reference outlined throughout this paper. The goal is not to explain
ultimate causes but to see connections between events and outcomes that
suggest relationships and developments, directions and patterns, in a
life. There is a conviction that a life has meaning and its meaning is
bound up with its value. There is also the conviction that much of a
life course is structured and controlled by variables both biological and
environmental; but it is not totally so structured nor so controlled. It
is in this area of relativity that choice must operate. It is in choice
that opportunities for change, including growth and development, lie. It
is also in such latitudes that enlightenment may lie. 1I01d knowledge
blocks new knowing,1I says Harold A. Larrabee in Reliable Knowledge (1964,
 149

p.43). The primary concern, in sifting evidence in this psychobiography,

will be to keep options open; to find ways to open the "closed drawers,"
and bring forth the "forgotten pictures" that Blum (1981) speaks about,
and in so doing to offer fresh ways of viewing the subject's life. The
goal is not so grandiose as finding the truth. It is rather to sift
through the evidence with careful concern and thoughtful judgment.
Larrabee (1964), again, puts his finger on it, when he says:
Man [sic] most often gets his start on the road to new
knowledge by encountering and recognizing ambiguous or
problem-situations; and he is able to do so partly because he
is built for hesitation as well as for making snap decisions.
It is somewhere between extreme urgency and extreme apathy
that he does most of his effective thinking. (p.41)
The trick for this researcher is to take the risk of being wrong in the
hope of opening up old drawers that may point the way to new paths.
These new pathways may allow others to see vistas not yet in view. As a
by-product, it may allow others to sight similar pathways that may open
up meaningful views for other lives as well.
In looking back to the hypotheses and corollaries stated in the
section above headed The Question, and keeping the immediately foregoing
passage in mind, Buhler (1968) makes an interesting point. She is
discussing fulfillment and failure in life and she suggests that,
although most people do not appear to lead lives that are guided lives,
they do:
Tend to look back... and.i.eva 1uate them in terms of total or
partial fulfillment and/or failure. ooo[and by this process]
they prove in a way that, althou9h subconsciously, directives
have been operating all along. (p.400)
 150

These "subconscious directives" are Buhler's equivalents of Ede1's

"reverse of the tapestry," B1 urn's "forgotten pi ctures," and lazarus and
Delongis' earlier cited "patterns of commitment" and "beliefs about self
and world," related to their concept of the "central story line."
Bun1er continues with the statement:
On careful inspection one hardly ever finds a completely
fulfilled life. Denials, losses, and failures seem
unavoidable but many lives are at least partially or even
essentially, fulfilled. (p, 402)
She continues by explaining:
People can overcome severe misfortunes, once they have had
the chance to love truly and devote themselves to some
objective. We speak of partial fulfillment if a person has
found full satisfaction in only one of the two basic areas of
life. (p.402)
Having paraphrased Freud's familiar statement about "to love and to work"
being the basic requirement for a satisfying life, BUhler goes on to say:
Most peop1 e make compromises when they enter marriages or
careers....depending on their adaptability as against
their self-actualization needs, they accept the life pattern
that offers itself or harbor a resentment and disappointment
without being able to do anything about it. These life
histories end with semi-acceptance or a somewhat bitter
resignation, subject to the amount of compensatory or
frustrating experiences. (pp, 402-403)
These remarks are directed to the themes of love and work that are
woven throughout the life course and make up the unique patterns within a
life history. But the same generalizations apply to issues around losses
and death itself. Buhler's statement last quoted sums up succinctly, by
the use of the phrase "make compromises," what lararus and Delongis
(1981) have in mind in their discussion of the complexities involved in
patterns of adaptations to stress. Buhler's statement also supports the
contention that speaks to the reciprocal relationship between a
 151

successful life (in her terms, a "fulfilled" life) and an ability to

accept the end of it with equanimity that is implied throughout the
section above on The Question.
The last corollary dealing with how the subject views her life and
her self as a woman will be examined against the background issues
outlined above in the section on Self as Woman. In addition, Else
Frenkel (1936) offers some insights gleaned from her work with Charlotte
Buhler, as well as some independent analyses. Frenkel states:
On both profess i ona1 and non-profess i ona1 women... the ma i n
accent of their lives is laid on social relationships. Even
their professions to a great extent is [sic] looked upon as a
means of enriching their 1ives socially....friendship and
family ties are very strongly developed. Women spend a great
deal of time displaying active interest in others....giving
advice, consolation, care, help, as well as in cooperation in
group act ivi ty....A11 the fi e1ds of acti vi ty of women are
influenced by her [sic] social interests .... In many
dimensions of her life she does not serve herself but her
environmen~ (P. 32)

This conclusion is based on a study of almost 400 biographies as well as

archival data collected. The passage above corroborates in concrete
terms the generalizations cited above in the Self as Woman section.
A final consideration in analyzing the evidence, one that is touched
upon above, needs reiterating here. It concerns the relationship between
the narrator and the interviewer. Blum (1981) speaks most cogently to it
in his opening paragraphs. He addresses the "hazards a biographer faces
in imposing a structure and meaning on his information" (p. 293). Prior
citations from Blum, issues that arise interpersonally between the
narrator and the interviewer at more covert levels--subtle distortions,
misunderstandings and misinterpretations resting upon non-verbal,
unconscious processes--are di scussed; issues broadly covered by the
 152

phrases "transference, countertransference and paratransterence," At

this point, however, the issue being raised is at a more superficial

level, but that does not make it unimportant or unworthy of attention.

It lies somewhere between the integrity and honesty of intent mentioned
in terms of the contract above, and the more covert preconscious or

unconscious levels. It is a variation on the determinants mentioned

above as societal or environmental. Broadly speaking, these are social
psychological sources of distortion. Blum lists a few common ones:

Informants who have agreed to cooperate may seek to please

the biographer by giving him what they think he wants to
hear....Simul taneously, informants seek to be seen as
pleasing, to present themselves in the most acceptable and
convent i ona 1 posture. •.. They may exaggerate thei r own
importance, or they may simply don a "normat tve" mask.
Another source of bi as 1 i es in persona 1 s tyl es of
viewing the world, in particular beliefs about causation•
... We humans are remarkably 1ikely to reject coincidence or
accident in accounting for events, and will not only assume
that an event was caused by, but that it was intended to be
caused by, intervention. mOn the whole such attributions
are surprisingly more negative with respect to motives and
more positive about the capacity of people to cause events
than an objective accounting would be...
The intimate groups of which one is a member shape norms
that dictate what can be said, what operating values are
presumed to exi st, what kinds of peopl e are acceptabl e or
unnacceptable. . . . how people ... not known well are
characterized. ...stereotypes may be offered as knowledge of
persona 1 character or hi story when they a re... deri ved
entirely from the repertoire of a group's norms.
Consequently, it is important to recognize that the
bi ographer and his informant may also become a "group, II and
that both may unwittingly seek to arrive at a consensus about
a third person, an issue, or an event. (pp. 296-297)

The danger here is twofold. The first is distortion by collusion. The

second danger is that, by exercising alert awareness, the biographer may
avoid that pitfall, only to "disrupt conversations and even
relationships, and [that] can lead to an informant's refusing to provide
 153

.any more information" (pp. 297-298). The interviewer is again faced with
the question of balance between alternative positions. As has been
reiterated to the point of ennui, there is no way to resolve the dilemma
except by constant vigilance and alert attention, tempered with patience
and regard for the subject as well as the task. And finally, as always,
a recognition that good is good enough. Perfection is not required.
 154

PART II

NARRATIVE

Chapter I

FAMILY BEGINNINGS: THE FOUNDATION

Over the Ocean and Down in the Vall ey

Thanks to Mary's brother John, who collected old newspaper clippings

and recorded ora 1 testimony in wri tten form, it is noss i b1e to

reconstruct a partial genealogy of the Cover-Higson family (see Appendix

F, item 1). The record is longer on the paternal than the maternal side.

The arbitrary beginning is the arrival of John Dietrick Cover in the new

world. Mary points out that there are variant spellings for "Cover", and
that this family spelled it "Coover" until, according to her father,

"they crossed the Alleghenys" when they lost the second "0 " (Jones, 1983,

p.5). John Dietrick Cover, the paternal great, great, great grandfather
of Mary and her two siblings, is reputed to have been a passenger on the

sailing vessel "Thistle", which landed on the eastern seaboard of North

America in 1730 (see Appendix F, items 2, column 2, mid-section, for

variant spelling and item 3, column 2, middle para. for details). From

whi ch European port it set sail is not recorded, nor is John Dietri ck

Cover's country of origin. Family tradition has it, however, that the

Covers were German. The family's religious denominational preference

was Lutheran.
 155

John Dietrick Cover's son, Gideon, was born in Lancaster County,

Pennsylvania, in December 1738, just eight years after his father's
arrival on these shores. Gideon served in both the Colonial and
Revolutionary armies. Then, on May 28, 1781, when Gideon was 43 years
old, a son, Adam, was born to him in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania.
It was Adam who settled on what came to be known as Cover Hill in
Conemaugh Township in 1813.[47] He lived in this area of Pennsylvania
for 43 years, until his death in Kernville, in November 1856, at the age
of 75.
Adam was a man of property. According to the newspaper account some
of his land became the site for the Methodist Episcopal Church of
Johnstown, built on the corner of Frankl in and Locust Streets in 1838.
He was rich in progeny as well, having thirteen children. Among those
born to him was Will iam, who became the father of Charles Blair Cover,
and, in due time, the grandfather of Mary. Adam's spouse, the woman who
gave birth to those thirteen infants, was Mary Magdalen Bashoar Cover
(spelling of Mary Magdalen's maiden name follows a family record, Harold
E. Jones' genealogy). She, too, was a native Pennsylvanian, born in
Lebanon County in March, 1789. She died in Johnstown in September, 1867,
at the age of 78.
William Cover, the second son, was born on Cover Hill "when
Johnstown was a hamlet" (see Appendix F, item 4, p.2; also, see Appendix
F, item 5, n.z). He earned his livelihood by plying the trade of
carpentry and cabinet making. The oldest son remained on the family farm
and finally inherited it. As the second born, William was given a suit of
clothes and sent to town to seek his fortune, upon reaching the age of 21
 156

(see Appendix F, item 5, o.z, para. 5 and item 10, final nara.). Before
sett1 ing into carpentry, Will iam tried a number of other occupations.
One of the more colorful ones was as a director of the transfer station
in Johnstown. The transfer station was the point where the railway
switched to canal boat en route to Pittsburgh from Phi1ade1phia.[48]
According to another newspaper account published in Johnstown on October
30, 1894 under the headline "A Remarkable Family," the seven brothers and
sisters still alive at that time "are probably the oldest living siblings
in the state of Pennsylvania" (Jones, 1983, pp. 4-5). This branch of the
family was endowed with longevity, as well as strength, endurance and
bounty.
William's wife, Mary Elizabeth Saylor Cover, born July 2, 1828, gave
birth to three children (see Appendix F, item 6). The firstborn was a
son, William, Jr.; the second, Charles Blair Cover. There was one
daughter, named Molly, the youngest child. Mary, the subject of this
study, was named "Mary E1 izabeth," after her paternal grandmother, Mary
Elizabeth Saylor. It was the maternal side of her family, however, who
called Mary "Mary Liz," never the Cover side.
Turning now to that maternal branch, the story begins later, again
wi th thanks to John Hi gson Cover (Notes, n.d., see Appendi x F, item 7).
\

Tradition has it that John Higson was born and reared in London, England,
"and variously emnl oyed," He attended an outdoor address (could it have
been in Hyde Park?) in which an "American Ambassador to Britain" was
explaining the war for the liberation of the slaves. This speech so
moved the young John Higson that he embarked as quickly as possible on
the journey overseas to Philadelphia, determined to playa part in this
 157

fight for freedom and human dignity. Upon his arrival, John enlisted in
the Union army and "his regiment was dispatched for inital training to
Northern Pennsylvania, south of Elmira, New York, where he met 'Annie '."
This was Anna Louise Paxson (sometimes spelled Paxton), whom John married
shortly thereafter (see AppendixF, item 7).
John Higson was wounded in combat. According to John Cover's Notes,
the enemy bullet struck Higson's left shoulder while he was rescuing and
replacing the fallen "American flag" that "the enemy shot down." This
occurred at the battle of Antietam. It was a lacerating wound, "the
bullet coursing down his side and out through the ribs." His recovery
was slow, and hearing about an old mill on Rock Creek (which is now,
according to Cover's notes, a park), "he stole from the hospital at night
and found a position which permitted the stream falling from the mill to
course through and cleanse the wound. After several nights of this
. treatment, the medical personnel expressed surprise at the rapid
healing." John Cover concludes, "He believed in the efficacy of water."
Even though his resourceful self-treatment may have healed the wound, he
never completely recovered, and could not, therefore, continue in active
service. He was promoted in rank, perhaps as a reward for bravery in
action. Mary recalls that as a small child she watched her grandmother
help her grandfather into his coat "even forever" (Jones, 1983, p.3).
Higson was entitled to veteran's compensation as a soldier wounded
in action, but he proudly refused it, saying, "No, I went into the war on
my own!" (Jones, 1983, p.3). Indeed, he crossed an ocean to volunteer to
fight another country's battle for the freedom of another race in the
human family. Mary recalls stories of his refusal to accept
 158

compensation, noting it as an example of "some kind of value" (Jones,

1982, p.4). During later years of his life, John Higson refused to talk
about the war. Mary states that her brother told her that their
grandfather would become silent, saying only, "War is hell!" or words to
that effect, whenever questioned about his experiences (Jones, 1983, p.
3) •

Upon leaving the army and marrying Anna Louise Paxson, John Higson
walked alone diagonally south and west over the Alleghenies and across
Pennsylvania looking for work. He found it in the valley of Johnstown,
situated almost mid-point between Harrisburg, the State capital, to the
east, and Pittsburg, to the west. Then he sent for his family.
According to John Cover's Notes, his grandfather checked on jobs as far
west as St. Louis, but there was something about this spot that drew him.
He was hired by the Cambria Steel Mills (later it became Bessemer Steel
Company) as a supervisor or foreman in charge of the blast furnaces.
And so John and Annie settled down to bring up their family. Anna
Loui se Paxson was of Engl ish descent and an Epi scope1i an. There was a
French ancestor in her lineage, named "Jaquette". He came to the
Colonies with Lafayette to help fight the British in the American
Revolution.
Anna gave birth to seven children, two of whom were twin boys who
died in infancy. Years later, John Cover recalls taking many short walks
around the neighborhood with his grandfather, who enjoyed talking to his
namesake about problems facing the younger generation. Once he spoke of
man's inconsideration to womankind, giving as an example the recent
birth of a seventh child to an acquaintance. John Cover silently
 159

calculated that Grandfather Higson had sired seven children, also, but
tactfully kept his calculations to himself (see Appendix F, item 7,
parae 5).
Mary recalls that her maternal grandmother was a petite woman and
grandfather Higson was a large man (Jones, 1983, e.s), When he came
home in the evening after work he would give a "favorite call", whereupon
Annie would rush to meet him, and he "caught her and tossed her into the
air."
After Grandfather Cover's death, John Cover notes that Grandfather
Higson "established the practice of calling upon Grandmother Cover once a
week with news, stories, and general chatting", much to her pleasure (see
Appendi x F, item 7, para. 6).

~ Convergence: The Great Flood

In the beginning, according to Mary's version of the family history,
the two families lived in Johnstown quite separately. It was a major
catastrophe that brought them face to face. On May 31, 1889 the great
JOhnstown flood swept over the valley. Charles Blair Cover was then a
young man of 44. Handsome and debonair, he was known as a "Beau
Brumme l " (Jones, 1983, p.4). Charles and his older brother, Will iam
Cover, Jr., owned and operated a livery stable (see Appendix F, item 4,
p.2, para. 7 and p.3). Charles rode a stallion about the town, cutting a
dashing figure. When the flood waters coursed down, engulfing the valley,
it destroyed the stables and drowned the horses. An eye witness
interviewed 36 years later, who was carried over the stables on a freight
car door by the torrents of water, said that he remembered hearing the
 160

horses snorting and thrashing about as they were submerged (see

Appendix F, item 4, p.2 and item 8, pp, 1-4, as well as item 9, pp, 1-6).
Charles Cover was not only dashing; he was dauntless as well. He
had an entrepreneurial spirit. In his early teenage years he had worked
as a clerk in two drug stores. After several years so occupied, he
returned to school to complete his high school education, and became the
class treasurer (Charles B. Cover, Septuagenarian, 1930, see Appendix F,
item 3). When the Red Cross rescue teams came to town, the survivors
formed a citizens' committee and appointed Charles head of supplies
(Jones, 1983, P.7). This highly responsible position in his community
opened up a new life for Charles Cover, not only professionally, but
personally as well.
In the meantime, while William and Charles' livery business was
being destroyed by the flood, another family, the Higsons, were
struggling to keep themselves afloat. According to Mary, "John Higson
told them when to jump and when to stay put," carrying the family and
their neighbors to safety, atop the roof of the Higson home. Luckily,
this rooftop became lodged with other remnants of houses against the
Pennsylvania railroad stone bridge, creating an island of safety amidst
the maelstrom and eventually enabling them to reach the higher land. Anna
is reputed to have said, "Here we are--homeless and penniless!" (Jones,
p.l). This statement was only slightly inaccurate. Her daughter, Carrie
Louise, a young women of 23, had two pennies in her pocket, change from a
dime with which she had purchased a quart of milk just before the flood
broke upon them. She had carefully put the two cents in her pocket, and
there they remained throughout the wild ride on the rooftop.
 161

It was this young woman who fetched supplies from the Red Cross
headquarters for her family after they made their way up Westmont Hill to
relatives, the Hamilton family. There they were given refuge through the
emergency (see Appendix F, item 10). One item donated to the Higsons was
a handmade blanket made by someone in Michigan. It stayed in the family
until Mary sent it to a museum in Johnstown as memorabilia of the great
flood. Another item among supplies that Carrie fetched was a Bible that
became the family Bible in which births and deaths were recorded, until
it was lost in a later flood. On these errands to the Red Cross station
Carrie caught the eye of Charles Cover. He was a widower of some years,
with a daughter who was being reared by her grandmother. Charles' gaze
1ingered upon Carrie Louise, and he favored her with sweets and
confections. "He liked her looks," as Mary put it (Jones, 1983, P.]).
And on November 18, 1890 they were married.
The foregoing is MarY's recollection of her mother and dad's
courtship. John, however, heard another version from Aunt Kate:
Perhaps I assumed an earlier engagement from a story of Aunt
Kate: Father had been dating her and sister Carrie jointly.
The family wondered whom he would choose. He first proposed
to Kate, but she refused. Later Mother told me that Kate had
reported to her Mother and older sister (Mary?). Their
Mother ordered them not to tell Carrie. So Father asked
Carrie who accepted after seeking her Mother's advice; her
Mother said Charlie was a leading young citizen and a
'catch'. Mother was bitter. (see Appendix F, item 10, John
Cover's "Biographical Impressions," para. 6 and item 11)
This leading citizen was, incidentally, quite politically active in his
community and a staunch Republican.
The marriage ceremony, according to a newspaper announcement, was
held at the home of the bride's parents (see Appendix F, item 12). It
 162

was officiated by a Rev. J. E. Bold. He was rector of St. Mark's

Episcopal Parish (see Appendix F, item 3 and item 13, last quotation).
The nuptial announcement also noted that the couple would take the train
to El mi ra, New York for a ten day vi sit. Thi s was, no doubt, to
introduce Charles Cover to other members of the Paxson branch of the
family, as well as a honeymoon trip.
The floOd brought Charles Cover and Carrie Higson together according
to Maris version. It also opened up a new career for Charles. While
acting as head of supplies during the emergency, he realized that he
could make a living with the skills he was learning. A newspaper
clipping commending Charles Cover's cleanliness, gives witness to his new
enterprise as well (see Appendix F, item 13, first para. and item 14,
column 1, last per a.), That he was neat and meticulous, as well as
clean, is corroborated by another clipping published almost 35 years
after the previous citation was originally printed. It states, IIMr.
Cover... is especially orderly and systematic, nothing haphazard with him.
Everything has a place and everything is in its pl ace'' (Appendix F, item
4, p.1, column 2). These traits must have stood him in good stead in
establishing his new grocery business, which grew to five outlets
consecutively (see Appendix F, item 15). Later he went into the retail
coal mining business.[49]
Successful entrepreneurs often possess talents that are quite
diverse -- and so did Charles Cover. At one period in his life he was
the County Auditor, and one of three auditors of his home town. IIHe was
appointed state bank examiner and traveled over the state in that
capacity for quite a while ll (Appendix F, item 4, p.2, para. 7). He was
 163

also the first manager of a professional baseball team in Johnstown.

This job was not easy for him. Trying to please the public, satisfy the
players, and placate directors led him, according to the newspaper
article, to view this as "one of the most trying periods" of his life.
Nevertheless, he did it successfully, and later on, when he ran his
mining business, he negotiated with teamsters, miners, and the publ ic.
The article ends on this note:
You can't spoil or sour "Charley", no matter what the
environment. You will find him just the same friendly,
congenial fellow you knew years ago.
It is clear from the record that the Cover and the Higson men were a
talented, courageous, industrious, and enterprising lot, but what about
the distaff side of these two families? The published record is scanter
but there is some testimony from John Cover's notes as well as Mary's
Oral History about both grandmothers. John attests to Grandmother
Higson's excellence as a cook (Appendix F, item 7). Mary recalls the
texture, fl avor, and aroma of the fresh bread that Grandmother Hi gson
baked on Fridays (Jones 1983, pl), The Higsons lived on School Place,
across the street from the high school that Mary and John attended.
Every Friday the children dropped by to visit Grandmother, and enjoy the
freshly baked loaves. Both John and Mary recall this grandmother's
handiwork. She quilted with a circle of friends from her church, and
managed quilting bees with other women in the DAR. At least one of her
embroidery pieces which Mary had won a prize at a county fair (Jones,
1983, p.I), John recall s that she was a ski 11 ful weaver as well. Mary
used one of her grandmother's qUilts as a counterpane throughout her
1ife.
 164

From John's notes an interesting facet of Grandmother Annie's

personality emerges. When the telephone company decided to "string a
wire down their street," it entailed digging a hole for a pole right in
front of the Higson's front porch steps" (Appendix F, item 7, para. 9).
This led to Grandmother Higson's chasing the workmen away and instructing
the boss to cancel the company plans. The workmen complied by covering
the hole with planks just at lunch time. When they returned for the
afternoon shift, Grandmother was found sitting in her rocker on the
pl anks, and "that was that!" according to John Cover's notes. The pole
did not go up!
Grandmother Cover is not remembered for her cooking, perhaps in part
because her husband, the senior William Cover, was an invalid during the
early years of John's and Mary's 1ives (Jones, 1983, 0.3). He died
when both chil dren were sti 11 quite young. Grandmother Cover suffered
from a severe loss of vision in her later years, and this might have
precluded her doing the kind of handiwork that the maternal grandmother
did with such enjoyment and skill. Besides caring for an invalid
husband, Grandmother Cover was also bringing up her grandchild, Charles'
older daughter by his earlier marriage. Grandmother Cover lived on Main
Street. Across from her house was an auditorium where performances were
held. She often sat on her front porch and enjoyed listening to the
music audible from there. This pleasure was still accessible to her,
even though her eyesight was failing. Certainly both grandmothers were
capable wives and mothers, faithful and stedfast. Grandmother Cover was
quite a survivor, 1iving well into her 92nd year. Grandmother Higson
emerges as energetic and accomplished, especially in the domestic arts,
 165

socially active, high spirited, and more than a mite spunky.

From these solid and fertile foundations the Cover nuclear family
flourished. The focus narrows now to the central figure of Mary, the
second child of Carrie and Charles, their firstborn daughter. Her life
is the heart of the matter.
 166

Chapter II
EARLY LIFE

Mary told an earlier interviewer that although she had "no

illustrious ancestors", she did have "a preciously good mother and
father" (Jones, 1983, p.I), She added that if she is a nurturant person
(as some friends and associates have suggested), "I get it from my
mother" (see Appendix F, item 16). She supports this statement with a
recollection. While standing on a street corner recently in Carmel, she
saw an older women who reminded her of her mother. As she looked at this
passerby, the thought came to Mary:
Nobody ever loved me in the same way as my m~ther did,
unselfishly and completely. 1 sorry I never told her this.
1m

She was a grand person... she was a social and community

person: she belonged to several organizations with other
women. She was more sociable than my father. (p.1)
Mary gave the present interviewer a vignette that documents her motherls
loving concern; when asked about her earliest memories, she said:
Every night, before I went up to bed, my mother came, and I
knelt on the stairs and said my prayers... my mother was there
to hear my prayers.
She added that she does not remember that her mother kissed her good-
night, but these moments on the stairway were imbued with a sense of
closeness and loving intimacy. This was a family that behaved with
reserve in the expression of emotion, not an atypical style for Americans
of Anglo-Saxon lineage.
 167

In describing the scene on the stairway, Mary pointed to an

imaginary place in the hallway where there was a niche that held the old
coat rack and umbrella stand. It was an old Victorian piece, with a
mirror and bench. The telephone was attached to the wall beside the
stand. On the stair landing a large window opened to the sky. Two large
rooms opened off the hallway. One of these, the living room, served as
a family gathering place. When her father brought his business papers
home to work on at night, he sat at his desk in that room, and:
We children sometimes had to keep quiet, if my father was
working... that's where he worked, in the 1iving room...whi1e
the rest of us read, quietly.
Opposite, across the entry hall, was the parlor, or the "music
room". Here the family entertained when company came. The piano stood
there, and Mary took piano lessons and practiced in that room. Her elder
brother, John, five years her senior, practiced his violin there as well.
All the music in this house did not come from the practicing in the
music room, however. Mary's mother had a beautiful singing voice, and
as a young woman she performed sometimes for the public. She played one
of the leads, little Buttercup, in "H.M.S. Pinafore", the Gilbert and
Sullivan operetta. Mary recalled her mother's singing some of those
solos and choruses as she went about her household tasks, as well as
favorite hymns and other popular songs of the day. Mary and her younger
sister, Louise, liked to sing a capella around the house, too. Their
father, who was not musical himself, probably enjoyed listening to his
wife and daughters. He would remind the little girls, however, that
neither of them had as lovely a voice as their mother, which was true,
according to Mary. Nevertheless, she still enjoyed singing, and by the
interviewer's standard, Mary had a clear, strong and melodious voice.
 168

Mary said that she often awakened with those old tunes on her lips (for
example, see Appendix F, items 17 and 18).
John was the most accomplished family musician. When a high school
student he wrote the school anthem (see Appendix F, item 19). He also
wrote the music for a Shakespeare lyric that was used in a Johnstown High
School production and later adapted by a Shakespearean troupe. Much
later during World War II, John wrote "Seranade to a Jeep" (see Appendix
F, items 20 and 21). As a young adult, John played first violin in the
orchestra of the Department of the Interior in Washington, D.C. Mary, on
the other hand, did not enjoy her piano lessons. This may have been, in
part, because she had a somewhat autocratic male teacher when she was
quite young.

Up and Around
These early memories have the second family home as their setting.
It was a large house that Mary's parents built and moved into when she

was about ten years old (see Appendix F, item 22). Upstairs, Mary and
her sister, Louise, shared a large double bed. John had his own room,
catercorner across the square 1andi ng from hi s sisters' room. Mother
and Dad had their bedroom adjacent to Mary and Louise's. There was also
a "sewing room" next to John's room on this floor. The maid had a room
in the attic.
Earlier, in the smaller home, Mary faintly recalled saying her
prayers to her mother at the foot of that staircase, as well. The first
home lay on one side of her father's corner grocery store on Haynes
Street, and the new home was around the corner at 437 Napoleon Street.
Mary remembered the new house as it was being built. It was an
exciting time, going to look at it, as it took shape before their eyes.
 169

lilt seemed a move Up,1I she said, laughing, "and, well, there were
radiators!1I She explained:
I don't remember how the first house was heated, but this
one was heated with hot water radiators which stood up, and
that was considered pretty important!
Her sister recalled an anecdote about these new radiators. John climbed
up onto one of them and jumped down -- perhaps to show off a bit for his
younger sisters. In jumping he accidently hit Louise's nose, and it bled
a little. She recalled that she took this as a mark of distinction, to
be so singled out by her big brother!

The Cycle of Life

Birth of her Sister
Before the move around the corner, back in the smaller house, Mary
remembered the birth of her baby sister. Or rather, she remembered going
to a centennial parade in 1900 with her brother and her father. When the
three returned home, Mother was there with a new baby sister. This did
not come as a surprise to Mary; so there must have been some anticipatory
talk in the family about the coming event, but Mary did not recall these
details, only the fait accompli. However, John has documented this birth
for the record (see Appendix F, item 23).
Mary had a very companionable and rewarding relationship with her
sister in their adult years, and treasured their twice weekly 10ng-
distance telephone visits as well as frequent reunions face-to-face. But
the early years of si sterhood were not too sati sfying. Mary fe1 t that
her little sister was qUite rivalrous with her for the attention and
affection of brother John. Louise would say, "Hes 'm tna' John--
'mf ne' dohn!" Mary found this somewhat amusing, since she always felt
quite sure of her place in John's affection. This was demonstrated in
 170

many ways. In high school years, for example, John took Mary to dances
in the park as part of a strategy for teaching her to dance. He also
taught her to play tennis, taking her along with a girl friend to the
courts at Chautaugua. In this manner her brother introduced her into the
adolescent social swim, and smoothed her path (see Appendix F, item 24).

Deaths in the Family

When Mary was only three her Grandfather Cover, who had been ill for
some time, died at the age of 83. Mary did not remember his death, nor
did she remember him, probably because of his lingering illness. Her
brother recalled visiting the grandparents' home and having to be quiet
so as not to disturb him.
But there was another death that Mary remembered with sadness and
pain. It was the early death of her first cousin, a baby boy named
Richard. Mary loved him, and remembered carrying him in her arms when
she was a young child. He died when he was less than a year old of
spinal meningitis. She recalled not only her own grief, but also that of
the child's father, whom she met in the hall just after the death scene.
The baby was in the home of his grandparents when he died, and Mary was
there at the time. There were no other deaths in these very early years.

Sunday School and Sex Education

Although Mary's mother was an Episcopalian, after her marriage she
attended the Lutheran church regularly on Sundays with her husband, and
the children went to Sunday School. Mary remembered that Children's Day
came around at least twice a year, and she always participated in these
programs, but none stand out especially in her memory.
 171

She did recall that to reach the Sunday School you walked parallel
to the Church sanctury, and then down a dark little alley towards the
back of the building.
One other memory remained quite clear, in part because it occurred
later, when Mary was a teenager. A girl in her class got married to a
son of the minister, and this quite young matron shared the intimate
details of the nuptial night with her classmates. As Mary pointed out,
"Something exciting had happened to her, and she had to share this with
her Sunday School classmates -- it was a very small group." This was
the first time Mary recalled hearing about what happens when one marries,
and it was her most vivid memory of Sunday School.

Family Routine and Relationships

Even though the family had live-in help most of the time, Mary's
mother found plenty to keep her busy about the house. Cooking was one
task Mrs. Cover especially enjoyed. Mary recalled learning to make
homemade noodles cut very fine, which Aunt Molly appreciated. Another
favorite dish was called "Schnitz and Knepf," a Pennsylvania Dutch
recipe, made of apples and ham (Jones, 1983, p, 11). Mary remembered
helping in the prepartion of these delicacies. She also remembered the
chore of washing and drying dishes after family meals, which fell to John
and her lot. They traded off the task-- one washing; one dryi ng. It

was accomplished with a good bit of friendly bickering about how clean
the washer did (or did not) scrub the dishes.
Al though Mary's fami ly was nuclear and not extended, grandparents
and aunts lived near-by and these, especially one aunt, played important
parts in the family drama. Aunt Kate was Mary's mother's older and
unmarried sister. She was a school teacher, an educated woman whose life
 172

revolved around her profession rather than domesticity (refer to Appendix

F, item 11).
Mary recalled Saturday nights as special. This was oyster stew
night. Since JOhnstown was inland, Mary·s dad made certain that the
family had fresh seafood which was available only once a week. He went
to a fish market every Saturday, and whenever oysters were in season he
brought them home for Carrie to cook into oyster stew. It was not
unusual to have company over on these evenings. Sometimes Aunt Kate
would be at the family table on Saturday night.
It was Aunt Kate who took Mary on a train trip to Pittsburgh when
she was a few years older. This excursion stood out in Mary·s memory.
It included a visit to a museum and much sightseeing. She felt Aunt Kate
was fond of her and genuinely interested in her.
Another aunt, Aunt Molly, was not as sympathetic a figure for Mary.
She was Mary's father's sister. Molly married a business man and this
couple was more affluent than other branches of the family. They
traveled to Europe, and Mary remembered the interesting gifts they
brought back home to family and friends. Molly and her husband,
Charles, were childless. They owned and managed a hotel, and when Mary
visited them she had to mind her manners, especially in the hotel dining
room. This did not make for relaxed relating for a little girl.
Aunt Agnes, who was the younger sister of Aunt Kate and Mary's
mother, Carrie, was more companionable than Aunt Molly. Aunt Agnes and
her husband, Uncle Harry, had four sons. Two of them, Henry and John,
were twins. This lively pair lent a more informal and relaxed atmosphere
to their household than prevailed in Aunt Molly's childless home in the
hotel. The twin boys were younger brothers of the baby who had died
 173

before his first birthday. There was another baby, Ben, born to Aunt
Agnes and Uncle Harry before the twins. He met with a fatal accident
early in life, run over by an automobile.
Aunt Agnes was a qUilter, as her mother, Grandma Higson, had been,
and Mary inherited some of the quilts Aunt Agnes made. Mary remembered
the department store where Uncle Harry worked as a buyer. She shopped in
that store as a youngster and recalled seeing her uncle there. Her
recollection of this aunt and uncle is that of a "happy married coup l e,"
and theirs was "a happy family." Mary was very fond of both Aunt Kate
and Aunt Agnes, her two maternal aunts.

Holidays, Especially Christmas

Except for Christmas, holidays did not loom large in Mary's early
recollections. On the 4th of July fireworks on the hill above Mary's
home kept her awake at night. Thanksgiving was celebrated in the
customary manner, with turkey and cranberry sauce, and the usual
trimmings. The Easter bunny was not a lively figure in Mary's memories
of childhood. There was, however, a Christmas doll still alive and well
today, and a teddy bear that lived in Mary's memory.
Christmases in general were big in the Cover household when Mary was
little. The tree was trimmed prior to Christmas Eve. It was heavily

decorated, and beneath it there was a Creche, with manger animals and
other figures, some handmade by brother John. Christmas Eve was often
spent caroling with other youngsters in the neighborhood.
After breakfast on Christmas morning the parlor doors were flung
wide, and everyone rushed in to open their presents by the light of the
candlelit tree. When this ceremony was completed, and the last gift
 174

opened, the whole family walked to Grandmother Cover's home, across a

"swinging bridge", to exchange presents with her.

Two Christmas Gifts: A 0011 and.! Teddy Bear

One Christmas morning when Mary was quf te young, she scanned the
gifts under the tree and her heart sank-- she saw no boxes that were the
right size and shape to hold the brown-haired, brown-eyed doll she
fervently wanted. Her father noted her disappointment, and he reminded
her that sometimes Santa Claus dropped presents down Grandma Cover's
chimney. Bel ief in Santa Cl aus, incidentally, was short-l ived. John
very soon enlightened his two younger sisters about the mythic and
symbolic nature of Santa.
Sure enough, when they arrived at Grandma's she gave Mary a very
large box and Mary knew at once that it contained a doll, but would it be
brown-haired and brown-eyed? Everyone urged her to open the box, but
still Mary hesitated. Finally, she blurted out, "I'm afraid it won't
have brown eyes and brown hair!" "Well", the family urged, "Open it, and
see!1I Happily, Grandma's Santa del ivered the goods, down to the
essential specifications. Now, however, Mary faced another constraint;
this one took longer to resolve. Since her grandmother's name was "Mary
Elizabeth", it seemed only right and proper to name the doll thus, after
the giver. But Mary, who was very fair with blue eyes, was named after
her grandmother, and she knew that this dark-eyed, dark-haired beauty of
a doll cried out to be called "Virginia"! How could she resolve this
dilemma? The new doll was nameless for at least a year, until Mary's
mother, by the dint of gentle persuasion, convinced Mary that it would be
 175

all right to call her doll IIVirginia. II[50]

The doll lives on in Mary's extended family, through Barbara, on to

Barbara's daughter, Lynne, on Lynne's nineth Christma5. Lynne and
Virginia favored one another, both having dark hair and brown eyes.

Years later Lynne passed Virginia along to her own daughter, Emily, when

she was nine years old. Virginia still wore the handmade clothes that
Mary's Grandma Higson had fashioned for her so many years ago: a white

dotted swiss dress trimmed in handmade lace. This was Grandma Higson's
Chri stmas gi ft to Mary when she received the doll from Grandma Cover.
There was also a red wool coat and a red silk bonnet trimmed with white

fur in Virginia's wardrobe. When Barbara gave Virginia to her daughter

Lynne, Lynne's Grandmother Coates made a set of pantaloons and a

petticoat for Virginia out of Grandfather Coates' baby clothes. That was

in 1959. Early in the 1980s, when Mary visited her daughter Barbara,

Virginia was again at Barbara's house and Barbara photographed her mother
wi th Virgi ni a.

The teddy bear incident occurred a Chri stmas or so 1ater. Mary's

little sister, Louise, had asked Santa for a bear, a bed, a book and a
ball. Mary asked for a teddy bear, too. Alas! On Christmas morning all

four of Louise's gifts materialized, but Mary received a Morris chair,

instead of a teddy bear. Mary's father explained to the crestfallen

child that she was too old for a teddy bear. "And that", said Mary, "was

that!" But that was not quite the end of the story. One night, some

time later, Louise climbed into the big double bed the sisters shared,
clutching her new teddy bear to her breast. This was a bit too much for
 176

Mary, who was well aware of her jealous feelings, and was trying hard to
manage them. This time the feelings were overwhelming, and she snatched
the teddy bear away from Louise. A tug of war ensued, and Mary ended up
with only Teddy's head! Louise was sobbing, and Mary felt sorry. The
outcome was that Mary·s mother sewed the head back onto the bear's body,
and that was that! Louise still has her teddy bear. This story became a
family saga.[51] One Christmas in the early 1980s, Mary·s
granddaughter, Jane, saw to it that Mary was provided with a leather
address book. Embossed on the cover was a teddy bear. Later on, Mary
sent Louise a linen covered calendar with a teddy bear on it.

School Days
Mary·s first school was Dibert School, just up the street from her
house. She could walk to and from it every day, .and she walked home for
lunch as well. Her memories of school were very postive. Mary said that
she recently wrote the Forward to a book about children's suffering from
school phobias, and she found the subject totally foreign to her own
school experiences.[52]
Spelling bees were one of her pleasantest memories of early school
days. There was one she recalled in which she became so excited by the
contest that the buttons on her blouse popped open, and the teacher
called her up to the desk so that she could fasten them for Mary. When
asked if she often won, she answered, modestly, "Well, I was pretty
goodJl· Her report cards support thi s assessment (Jones, 1983, p.12).
Mary did not recall much playground activity, but she did remember
that she liked to play baseball with the neighborhood kids on the block.
 177

This was a street game. When alone she read a lot of novels, the kind
ca11 ed "romances."

Best Friend
There was a girl a couple of years older than Mary who was a good
friend and confidante. This girl lived catercorner across the fence from
Mary. Her name was Pansy. She and Mary used to sit on the fence
together and chat. One day Pansy told Mary, who was 12 years old by
then, that something would happen to her physically soon. Mary knew at
once that Pansy was alluding to the menarche, and answered, "Oh, it
already has!" When questioned about the dynamics of this relationship,
Mary's answer was, "Oh, we just got on!" Pansy 1ived with her
grandparents, married while still in her teens, and left Johnstown soon
afterwards. Mary lost track of her, but remembered her fondly.

Say.!.! With Roses

When Mary was in the fifth grade she sat at the head of one of the
rows of desks in her class room. One morning a boy in her class came to
her desk and placed a long-stemmed red rose there. Mary was both pleased
and surprised. When he repeated the gesture the following morning, the
teacher, who was watching, blushed. Mary saw this and felt embarrassed.
A short time later, Johnstown had a flood--" They were always having
floods in Johnstown," Mary said-- and Rutherford (that was his name)
showed up on her front porch at 5 o'clock in the morning, having come
through high water to make sure that she was safe. It was her dad who
found him waiting on the porch and took this news to Mary at breakfast.
 178

Mary knew where Rutherford lived, and that his father was a doctor.
When going to the home of one of her grandmothers she would pass
Rutherford's house. The encounters with him left her feeling somewhat
mystified and ill-at-ease, especially in the light of her teacher's
blush.

Chautauqua: &Window On The World[53]

There is a village called "Chautauqua" which lies within a town of
the same name, in Chautauqua County, New York. The village is on the
west shore of Chautauqua Lake. In 1908 the village population was about
750, and the town, a little over 3,550.
The lake is more than 1300 feet above sea level and is (or was)
qut te beautiful. In some places it is three miles wide; in others, only
a few hundred yards. It is approximately 20 miles long. The town lies
on the north end of the lake. It is famed as the permanent home of the
Chautauqua Institution, "a system of popular education founded in 1874."
The village within the town encompasses about three hundred acres and is
carefully laid out to facilitate the purposes of the Institution.
Although Chautauqua began as a Sunday School Normal Institute for
Methodists, it became non-sectarian almost from its inception, and
strongly interdenominational. It is still a religous organization, but

its assumption has been that the "best religous education must
necessarily take advantage of the best that the educational world can
afford in literature, the arts and science." Founded as a summer school
for Sunday School teachers, it included from the start correlated
lectures and entertainment, such as concerts and readings.
 179

It began as a summer program running from June through August, but

soon expanded to include a home-reading program throughout the year.
Certificates are awarded for completion of courses. Instructors are
drawn from leading schools and colleges, and hundreds of formal
activities are offered throughout the summer.
Chautauqua has been extremely influential throughout the country.
There are now many local Chautauqua societies operating in various
states, and a Jewish Chautauqua Society with headquarters in Buffalo, New
York. More recently, many colleges and universities offer summer
institutes patterned on the original Chautauqua, but smaller and more
limited in enrollment. The Encyclopedia Britannica states that
Chautauqua's influence on education in this country has been "immense".
Mary would agree. Her whole family spent a number of their summer
vacations at Chautauqua. Often Aunt Kate joined them. Their family was
the only one from Johnstown vacationing there during those years. These
vacations were not inexpensive. The Covers could not afford to stay all
three months. Several weeks, at best, was all they could manage. John
did, however, occasionally stay longer. His violin playing allowed him
to be in the orchestra with a tuition stipend.
There were a number of boarding houses in the village to accommo-
date the guests. One expensive one was the Athenaeum. Mary's family
stayed at a more modest one, called St. Elmo. This house accommodated
around 20 or so guests. Some returned year after year; building
friendships and maintaining relationships. There was a woman who, Mary
recalled, encouraged John in his ambition to attend Ohio State University
at Columbus by offering to arrange lodging for him in the Pennsylvania
 180

Dutch household where she lived (see Appendix F, item 5, p.L, para.S),
John went there only for his Freshman year, and then transferred to
Columbia University. But during the first part of that first year he
stayed at the home as the friend he met at Chautauqua had promised.
louise's father, realizing that his younger daughter was showing a
decided interest in nature and the out-of-doors, including bird-watching,
arranged to have her tutored in nature lore while at Chautauqua. louise
later majored in Botany at college. Someone she met at Chautauqua,
moreover, influenced her later choice of the University of Wisconsin for
her undergraduate degree.
Mary's interests at Chautauqua were quite ecl ecti c. There was a
boys' and girls' club. She joined the girls', and also the chorus. She
enjoyed singing in the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas performed there.
All three youngsters liked the craft classes. John participated on the
baseball team. It was at Chautauqua in that beauti ful 1ake that Mary

learned to swim, where swimsuits with stockings were de rigueur for girls
as young as 12! (Jones, 1983, o.s)
On Sundays, church services were held in a large amphitheatre, but
there were also many small chapels scattered throughout the village.
In addition to the stimulation provided by meeting new and
interesting people, making new friends, and renewing acquaintances from
past summers, there was the enrichment through music, concerts, lectures
and the variety of classes offered. There was the invigoration of
outdoor sports, hikes, and nature study. And there were also prominent
guests. Mary recalled that Walter Damrosch led the orchestra one summer
and her brother, John, played in it Dnder Damrosch's direction (see
 181

Appendix F, item 5, p.I, para. 4 and 5 for John's version). She heard
Scott Nearing lecture at another time. And she also saw President
Theodore Roosevelt there. During the President's visit, Mary sat on one
or : five arches leading to the amphitheatre (Jones, 1983, P. 9).
Chautauqua was more than summer vacations. It was a 1iberal education.
As a matter of fact, Mary's father earned a Chautauqua certificate--the
Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle Certificate--for doing his
homework well throughout the year.

All This And Halley's Comet, Too

Mary was 14 years old in 1910; she would have been a freshman in
high school, in most places, but in Johnstown she was in the ninth grade,
the last year of elementary school. This was the year of Halley's Comet.
Her parents, especially her dad, were excited about its appearence, and
there was much anticipatary planning for viewing it. Almost 75 years
later, Mary still recalled this experience vividly. The family gathered
on the landing of the stairway in their home, and watched the comet's
path across the heavens.

Happy High School Days

The positive feel ings that Mary recalled from her earl iest
experiences with elementary school continued through her high school
years. She knew that she "was always interested in going to school" and
that "just being in school" was what made it so appealing, not any
particular subject or special teacher. School gave Marya feeling of
competency that contributed to an overall sense of well-being. As
corroboration of her assessment that she felt good about her life from
 182

the earliest years and on into high school, she said, "The song my
brother wrote, the high school song -- I sing that a lot; now why would I
sing it, if I hadn't enjoyed those years?"[54]
By the time Mary entered high school, her brother had graduated, but
he left more than the Alma Mater anthem as a legacy. John took art
courses and when Mary took some of the same ones, the art teacher pointed
out to her that she was not as tal ented as her brother had been. This
did not bother Mary because she did not aspire to excellence in that
field. John had, however, been the editor of the high school paper, The
Spectator, in his senior year. Mary decided she would enjoy following in
his footsteps there. She wrote well and enjoyed writing. Her father
encouraged her by his belief that anything her brother did she could do,
too. (Jones, 1983, n.I t),
A young man, Ralph, had the same ambition, and he began sparring
with her for thi s honor. The contest was resol ved through compromi see
Ralph was appointed business manager and Mary became the editor. At
first Ralph was critical of Mary, complaining about "how much money" she
spent. By Christmas time this problem was resolved. Ralph brought Mary
a huge box of candy, and declared that he was "not going to be mad
anymore" because she JIhad not exceeded the paper's bUdget" (Jones, 1983,
p.13). From that time on Mary and Ralph "went to everything together".
They marched down the aisle together at Commencement. When Mary took the
train to college that Fall, Ralph and her mother saw her off at the
station. After she left, and until Ralph left Johnstown himself, to join
the army, Mary's mother and Ralph kept up a friendship. Later Mary's
mother met Ralph1s wife and socialized a bit with the young couple. At
 183

this time, however, Ralph wrote to Mary while in the service and sent her
copies of the war songs the soldiers were singing. When they met again,
after Mary's year away at Vassar, they had grown apart. In answer to a
question as to what Mary liked best about Ralph, she laughingly answered
that it was "the fact that he liked me!" Years later, at the 50th class
reunion, one of her classmates came up to Mary and remarked that everyone
had expected Mary and Ralph to marry -- they all thought that "he was the
one!" Somehow, Mary had known all along that he was not, even though she
had complied with his request for a kiss as a graduation present from
her. It was, she recalls, "a pretty real ktss" -- she was surprised at

the time at how "real ll it was!

Mary had other admirers in high school. One year she received 13
boxes of chocolates, although all these boxes did not come from serious
beaux. One large box was a gift from her best friend's beau. He gave
candy to Mary, but to Winifred he gave red roses.
Although Mary did have a very active social life during her high
school years, and enjoyed the company of one or two young men other than
Ralph, there was one admirer, the one who had brought her the roses in
grammar school, who never quite made the grade, with Mary or her family.
He wanted to take Mary to a stock company when she was only in the fifth
grade. Aunt Kate offered to accompany them, as a solution to a social
dilemma, but the young man withdrew his invitation in the face of having
a chaperone (a maiden school teacher aunt, at that).
 184

Mary's mother played an interesting part in Mary's social ization

with the oppos i te sex. Although her mother usually was not too
forthrightly critical, Mary sensed that her mother did not approve
wholeheartedly of the young men who were seeking Mary's company. Mary's
mother had, as noted above, continued a friendly relationship with Ralph
in Mary's absence, but earlier she had made her assessment of him to Mary
quite clear. One day Ralph was visiting Mary at Brookacre, the cottage
in the country which originally belonged to Aunt Kate, who shared it with
the rest of the family. Ralph was helping with the task of digging a new
outdoor toilet, and Mary's mother called Mary's attention to the young
man's muscular build in a way that left little question about how she
viewed this attribute: "Ugh, look how strong he is!" was the way she put
it.
Mary's surmise about her mother's attitude was that she wanted to
make sure that Mary would not be swept off her feet prematurely into an
early marriage. Mary was quite certain that her mother did not share her
father's enthusiasm for higher education for their older daughter.
Carrie was, however, certain that Mary was too young to marry. In the
face of this ever-present alternative, more appealing, her mother might
have feared, as war approached, Carrie may have seen college as a welcome
way out. College could become a buffer against the winds of romance. It
may have been for this reason that Carrie never spoke against the idea of
college for her daughter, even though she did not actively promote it.
 185

Best Friends: The High School Crowd

Some of Mary's happiest hours were spent with her high school crowd,
a group of six or eight girls in her class. Several were friends from
earlier days in elementary school. Winifred Krebs was her closest
friend. Mary admired her very much. First of all, she was an extremely
pretty young teenager. She was qUite petite, a brunette, with dark
curl s. Mary al so appreciated Winifred's popul arity: "Boys were crazy
about her and I was impressed with this," Mary confessed with a twinkle
in her eye. Mary also admitted that she felt Winifred to be much more
attractive and more popular than she.
Mary did not like the way her front teeth tended to protrude. She
recalled that she had treatment from an orthodontist but it did not seem
to help. It may be that Mary's parents did not see this as a serious
problem. To Mary it was of some importance, however. She recalled that
she felt considerable empathy with Eleanor Roosevelt, years later, when
she read about Eleanor's concern about her protruding teeth.
In addition to Winifred's attractive personal attributes, Mary also
thought that Winifred's family was a notch above hers on the local social
scale. Mary's father was a successful business man active in the affairs
of his community, a staunch member of the Republican party and involved
in local politics. But Winifred's father was editor of the daily
newspaper, a position that carried considerable distinction and influence
in the town.
While Winifred was not an outstanding student, Mary perceived that
her friend was quite bright and could have excelled academically had she
been motivated to do so. Mary graduated with honors from high school.
 186

Winifred did go on to Wells College after finishing high school. She and
Mary were among the very few young women from their graduating class who
went to college. One of the others was a girl named Virginia Lewis, the
class Valedictorian; She was not a member of Mary's crowd. That young
woman went to Allegheny College. She later married a psychologist, and
much later moved to Napa, California when her husband joined the staff
of the state hospital there. Mary never met her while she was there, but
she used to hear news of that former classmate, now deceased, through
some common acqua i ntances.
Mary recalled with particular pleasure the spring holidays spent at
Winifred1s family cottage in the country. The whole crowd of high school
girls would gather there, accompanied by two of Winifred1s aunts or,
sometimes, a teacher for a visit of about a week. They invited their
favorite male classmates up for visits during the day and spent the time
picnicking, gathering wild flowers and berries, and enjoying the
the pleasures of country life.
Another member of her group whom Mary remembered fondly was
Katharine. She lived in a house that Mary saw as IImore elegant ll than her
own. One evening when Mary was dining there with Katharine and her
family, Mary recalled an anecdote that was amusing in retrospect. Mary
was seated next to one of Kathar-ine's brothers. During the soup course
he seized some peanuts from a dish on the table and ladeled them into his
soup. Mary had never seen this done before, but assumed it to be
customary, at least in this household. When he passed the peanut dish to
her, therefore, she followed sui~ Thereupon, the young man turned to
her, teasingly, and said, III know you only did that because you saw me
 187

doing it!" This was true, of course, and Mary felt considerable chagrin.
Katharine's marriage was an example of an early one among Mary's
friends and acquaintances (as was the Sunday School classmate, mentioned
above). Soon after Commencement Katharine married one of her high school
instructors and the couple moved away from Johnstown. Mary never heard
from her again, nor from most of the others in that group -- except for
Winifred. In the early 1980s Mary wrote Winifred to find out if she
planned attending a class reunion. This she could not do and so the two
old chums did not get together. They continued to exchange Christmas
cards and notes, however, keeping their friendship alive (see Appendix F,
item 28).

Academics
By the time Mary entered high school she knew she would be taking
the College Preparatory Course. Chautauqua was a strong incentive for
Mary's academic motivation. It whetted her appetite long before Halley's
Comet gave a visual sign to represent more intangible goals.
Then there was John who preceeded her and prepared the way. One of
her teachers, the English teacher, had encouraged John to go to college
and this same woman took Mary's academic future seriously. She
encouraged Mary to follow her brother's example.
Mary had a Lati n teacher whose younger sister had gone to Vassar.
Even though the sister had not made the grade there, the Latin teacher
spoke in favor of Vassar as a college for young women.
Another college that Mary heard about during this period of her life
was Bryn Mawr. Her brother had dated a young woman who was going there.
 188

Its most outstanding quality, in the eyes of Mary's parents, was its
proximity to home, being located on the west side of Philadelphia.
The third college mentioned as a possibility by her family was Mount
Holyoke. Mary eventually visited all three with her parents.
In the meantime, she took the courses that were prerequisites for
coll ege entry: two foreign 1anguages (Latin and German); mathematics
(algebra, geometry, trigonometry); physics, history, geography and
English.
It was Mary's father who had always extolled the values of an
education, while Aunt Kate was the living embodiment of higher education
for women within the family fold.
Although Mary was qUite certain she never gave it a thought in her
childhood, looking back she believed that she may have been her father's
favorite child. She said, "I don't know why I think so; except that he
was always very interested -- when we got ready for college -- maybe I
was a little favored -- I was the first girl, after all, and he was my
father -- call it 'Oedipal', if you want!" Whatever the dynamics that
were operating, it became clear to Mary that her father was always
interested in seeing all of his children do what they wanted to do, "and
he hoped it was getting ahead!"

Summer Vacations
During her summer vacations over the high school years Mary attended
some YWCA camps away from home for several weeks. Then, in 1915, after
graduation, she became a volunteer counselor at a camp for indigent girls
from New York City (see Appendix F, item 29). This opportunity was
 189

arranged for her by Mrs. Wernstedt, the mother of Ebba. Ebba was a young
woman whom John met when he transferred from Ohio State to Columbia
University after his Freshman year. She was the daughter of the German-
American woman who rented a room to John. John brought Ebba home to
visit his family when his relationship with her began to become a more
serious one. Mary 1iked her very much and the two became good friends.
Mary was delighted at the prospect of spending the summer as a counselor
with Ebba. The camp was sponsored by a settlement house in New York
City. Even though Ebba turned out to be a bit obsessive in her
housekeeping habits and chided Mary about her untidiness in their shared
quarters at the camp, Mary still found the association a satisfying one
and the summer rewarding.
later that same year John and Ebba were married in Vienna where John
was sent on a diplomatic mission by the United States government. This
was an assignment he undertook while working towards his Doctorate in
Economics at Columbia. During this trip abroad John and Ebba traveled
through the low Countries and visited some of Ebba's paternal relatives
in eastern Germany near the Polish border. They also saw some of
Switzerland and Italy, ending up in Scandinavia. They returned to New
York on a Norwegian ship which John found very satisfying. When they were
back home in Washington, Ebba became pregnant. That pregnancy made John
eligible for draft deferment when the United States entered the war in
1917. His pacifist convictions alone might not have been persuasive
enough.
 190

Early Career Aspirations

During these early years, prior to college, Mary thought she wanted
to become a nurse. She had a chance to tryout this profession at a less
than professional, but quite practical, level during her high school
days. Her mother had a buggy accident while out riding with a friend.
Mary does not recall all the details, but somehow her mother wrenched her
back. The injury was painful and incapacitating, but not too serious in
its final outcome. There were no fractured vertebrae. During the
several weeks required for her mother's recovery, Mary ministered to her.
Aunt Kate bought Marya nurse's uniform and cap to wear while plying her
nursing tasks. This service gave Marya sense of geniune satisfaction
(see Appendi x F, item 30).

Conunmencement
The Commencement ceremony was important to Mary. Before Commence-
ment, in her junior year, Mary belonged to the Emerson literary Society,
and through that affiliation she participated in the Junior-Senior
Reception (see Appendix F, items 31 and 32). This occasion served as a
kind of dress rehearsal for the following year. Mary had a part in the
class play (as did her good friend, Katharine). Then, almost a year and
a half later, Mary graduated (see Appendix F, item 33, p.z), This time
Mary's best friend, Winifred, appears on the program delivering a story
(p.2 also). Mary also performs, declaiming a poem she wrote, "A Pixie's
love. II This poem was printed in the Johnstown newspaper (see Appendix F,
item 34). The theme of the poem might well have reinforced Carrie1s
concern about the compelling allure of youthful romance.
 191

Chapter III
NEW THRESHOLDS

Vassar, Vassar, Vassar

Bryn Mawr, Mount Holyoke and Vassar -- Mary was quite sure that she
visited all three with her parents before finally choosing Vassar, but
the only visit she remembered was the one to Vassar. Before she went
there, she saw a picture in a magazine drawn by a well-known illustrator
of that era, Harrison Fisher, "There was a picture of a Vassar girl with
a Vassar pennant up on a wall, and the girl had a rose beside her on her
desk." Mary added, "I thought Vassar sounded like a very good place, and
when we visited there, we were shown a senior girl's room and there was a
bunch of American Beauty roses! That was just what I thought Vassar
would be like!" The Vassar girl who showed Mary and her parents around
the campus was very friendly and welcoming.
Once Mary was enrolled and matriculating, however, everything at
Vassar did not look so rosy. There was Latin. Mary had taken four years
of Latin in high school. The high school Latin teacher, it may be
recalled, was the one whose sister had failed at Vassar. Mary failed
Latin that first year. Mary was certain that her preparation for college
at Johnstown High was not up to the standards of most of her classmates'
preparation. The majority of those students had come from private
college preparatory schools. When Mary failed Latin it was more than a
personal defeat. To keep accreditation with Vassar a high school could
not have more than two of its students fail. Johnstown High had had its
 192

two: the latin teacher's sister and one other. Mary needed to succeed,
therefore, not only for herself, but also to keep her high school on the
accredited list. Mary studied diligently, with a tutor at Vassar whose
name was Swan. All the students who tutored with her used to sing a
variation on a popular song, "Take Me Back to Swany's Doo~" Then, over
the summer, Mary was tutored by her old high school latin teacher -- and
she passed the course, in the Fall, to her vast relief.

A Roommate
Before the challenge of latin, however, there was the matter of
settling into a new 1ife. Dormitory space for Freshmen at Vassar was
limited and it was parcelled out on a first-come, first-served basis.
Because of the order of acceptance Mary was assigned to McGlynn's, one of
two off-campus dormitories. In those days what were later called "House
Mothers" were then called "Wardens," and McGlynn's had a Warden, too.
Another student entering that day and also assigned to McGlynn's was lois
Warner. She arrived, accompanied by her mother. lois and Mary had each
been assigned a roomate, but lois' mother thought that her daughter and
Mary should room together. Mrs. Warner negotiated this shift in
roommates, and thus began a life-long friendship between Mary and lois.
Mary described lois as "very bright -- Phi Beta Kappa, Junior year."
She took piano lessons throughout college and later on she married a
music teacher who had taught her piano in high school. A New Englander,
lois' temperament was, according to Mary, in keeping with her background.
She was quiet and reserved, a bit reticent and inward, and quite self-
sufficient. To quote Mary, "I always thought she was a little less
 193

interested in me than I was in her, and that as a person she would still
always be a little more impersonal -- she was very bright, with lots of
interests -- musical -- Phi Beta Kappa, all this... I think maybe people
meant a little less to her than they did to me... she was a New
Enql ander!" Lois was, moreover, in Maris eyes quite beautiful. Mary
described her as having "a beautiful complexion, and lovely big eyes,
but,1I Mary added, IIher hair was straight, and she envied me my hair,
although she was really better looking than 1... 11• Mary admitted to one
asset in her appearance, III had pretty good hair... blonde and cur ly,"
Lois' hair was straight and brown, but her skin was very fair and lovely,
with "rosy cheeks,"
These two young women hit it off well from the start. Towards the
end of that first year, not yet on campus, still at McGlynn1s, they drew
lots for Sophomore and Junior year quarters. Mary's hit was a lucky one,
and she was able to select a suite of three rooms, two bedrooms with a
connecting drawing room in one of the quadrangle buildings, called
Lathrop Hall. She and Lois lived in style those two years. As Seniors
they were able to room in single adjacent rooms in Main Hall, where all
Seniors were housed. When Mary and Lois returned for their 50th
Reunion, they found that their old suite had now become three separate
rooms. Later on, after coll ege, Loi s and Mary shared an apartment in
New York. Through the years these two kept their friendship alive,
through correspondence, long-distance telephone calls, and occasional
visits back and forth between southern and northern California.
 194

Other College Friends and College Life

Although Mary's life at college was filled with friendships,
reminiscent of earlier days at Johnstown High, there was one striking
difference. In college there were no young men -- only Vassar women.
Then, too, by the time Mary was a Junior, well settled into college life,
the country was at war. Nearby men's colleges were decimated, as the
young men became doughboys in World War I.
Mary did remember going to a dance at West Point her Freshman year.
Her date was the boyfriend of one of her Johnstown high school friends.
This Cadet found a fellow West Pointer as a date for Mary's friend,
Muriel; so those two Vassar co-eds visited West Point together, attending
a formal dance there.
Since the war was in full-swing in Mary's Junior year, the Junior
Prom was cancelled. By Senior year, the Armistice had been signed, and
Mary's class could hold a Senior Prom. This time Lois' brother escorted
Mary, and he found a friend to date his sister.
Mary did not recall the dress she wore there but she vividly
remembered one formal gown from an earlier year. She had her heart set
on a sophisticated black dress. Her mother, however, was not in favor
of black. She said that Mary was much too young to wear black. Her
father stepped in, saving the day. He volunteered to take Mary shopping.
They returned home with a black lace gown, trimmed with pink ribbon and a
rose. Carrie asked, "Whose idea was that?" Mary repl ied, "My father let
me buy it", to which Carrie answered only, "Humph!"
Mary's social 1ife, even though essentially restricted to women,
was quite lively. Her view of it was a striking contrast to that of a
 195

fellow classmate quoted in Elaine Kenda11 1s

Peculiar Institutions (1976):
Every morning when I awake, I swear I say damn this pink and
gray college... It isn't on the Hudson. They lied to me.
Every path in Poughkeepsie ends in a heap of cans and rub-
bish. (p. 159)
This lament came from a letter that Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote to a
friend. Millay came to Vassar as a 21 year old Junior, a transfer
student from Barnard who had spent an interim year in Greenwich Village
and published a poem while there. "At that time," according to Kendall,
the vi 11 age was lithe very synonym for bohemian nonconformity." (p.159).
Mary , on the other hand, younger and from Johnstown, not New York, found
the paths quite different. Her Sunday morning strolls took her down
pleasant by-ways:
On a road near the campus, there was something they called
the Cider Mill. You could go and buy cider, and take a walk -
it was like a botanical garden.
A far cry from Millay's "heap of cans and rubbish"! Mary fondly recalled
the Vassar Alma Mater and another more colloquial song that she and her
college chums sang (see Appendix F, item 35).

Metamorphoses
These Sunday morning excursions were in lieu of church attendance, a
practice that Mary quit in her Sophormore year. Her philosophy course
gave Marya new view of basic truths and lasting values. As she put
it:
When I took my philosophy course, second year, I decided I
was not a Christian, and my instructor was a little bothered
that held done this to me. But I never went to church in
downtown Poughkeepsie after that (but of course I continued
going to Chapel at Vassar, which was required). I just
remember looking at things in a different way; philoso-
phically, rather than religiously.
 196

Mary recalled that during her high school years she had experienced a
religious conversion, or, as she phrased it, "I 'hf t the trail l... I was
asked to come up and 'hf t the trat l ,' and I did!" The sermon that moved
her was delivered in a Johnstown church and the evangelist who preached
it was well-known at the time. This was the era of Billy Sunday, but
Mary believed it to have been an earlier preacher.
Mary recalled with great clarity the singular young man, a popular
high school classmate, who sat riveted to his seat while all around him
were drawn to hit the "sawdust trail":
Almost everybody did... there was one young man who didn't and
I still think of that fella -- how could he have had the
courage to sit there, while we all went up and "hit the
trail"? --
Although Mary was so moved by the evangalist when she was a teenager, she
did not believe that she was deeply religious in any orthodox sense. At
least she was not committed to the dogma of any denominational creed.
She had attended church regul arly with her family throughout chi 1dhood
and adolescence, conforming to the convention of time and place. Now, at
college, exposed to a broader view, the parochialism of the past slipped
away as one might shed an outgrown garment, without confl ict or
ambivalence.
There was another more tangible severence that occurred in Maryls
Senior year. She recalled going with a friend to her home in Media,
Pennsylvania. This friend was also named Mary (but Pauli was her
nickname). She later entered Women's Medical School and when Mary last
read about her, in the mid-1980s in the Alumnae News, she was still
practicing medicine in Maine. While visiting with Pauli one Spring
 197

break Mary went to the local barbershop and bobbed her hair. The shorn
locks were made into a switch which Mary then wore on the nape of her
neck as though it were a bun. This, with a bonnet perched on top of her
head, disguised her new coiffeur, or at least Mary hoped it did. Pauli's
parents, who saw them off at the railroad station, apparently noticed
nothing. Mary recalled returning to Vassar on the train, wearing the
bonnet and switch. When she went to her own home, however, it did not
take her mother long to comment, "You may as well not bother wearing that
switch, Mary; your father knows you've cut your hatr,"

Evolution, Not Revolution

Bobbing ones hair II was in the air ll at Vassar in the Spring of 1919.
Mary was the second young woman to take that step. She was first,
however, in another act of non-conformity that required a higher order of
courage. A couple of years earlier, when President Woodrow Wilson
declared war against the Kaiser, Vassar convened an assembly to send a
vote of confidence to Wilson. An overwhelming majority voted to support
him, and someone said, "Lets make it unanimous!". They almost
succeeded, until Mary cast a lone dissenting vote by declaring, III don't
vote for the war; I'm opposed to our entry," Once she voiced her
opposition, a few others followed her lead. Mary felt certain her
brother's strong pacifist stand influenced her in taking this stand.
A number of Mary's closest friends in college were Jewish. She
often pondered this circumstance. Since she had not known any Jewish
people in Johnstown, she wondered how she happened to be drawn to them at
Vassar. She believed one factor may have been her own sense of being an
 198

outsider there. Many of the young women came into Vassar with friends

from their prep school days. This situation led to cliques not unlike

those encountered in other schools where sororities exist. Vassar had

clubs that were organized around common interests, but sororities were
outlawed. This strategy encouraged new alliances built upon natural
preferences rather than circumstances of birth, class, religion,
regionalism or prior acquaintance. An example of this is the Vassar
Debating Team which Mary joined. She recalled a trip this group took to

Smith College to engage the team there in a debate. The Vassar women
were shocked to learn that Smith had sororities.
Vassar was organized to encourage students to do what Mary tended to

do naturally -- reach out to new experiences and make new friends. Some
of the friendships that began for her in shared classroom experiences or
in extra-curricular interests, such as clubs, or in more informal

encounters, continued throughout Mary's 1ife. A number of Mary's friends

came from New York City, and when she went to Columbia University for her
graduate study her friendships with those women continued in the new

setting. Her old Vassar classmate, Marcelle Furman, was a case in point.
Marcelle was taking her M.A. at Teachers College. Mary and she took a
course together there in mental testing; it was taught by Leda S.

Hollingworth. Later on, when Mary moved to Berkeley, some of her old
fri ends vis ited her in her Ca 1i forn i a home. I n more recent yea rs Mary
was able to continue her friendships with those still 1 iving by

exchanging hol iday cards, visiting on the long-distance telephone, and

occasional face-to-face visits. Mary considered attending a 65th class

reunion at Vassar in the Spring of '84, but since only a few members
 199

registered for it, the reunion was cancelled. Mary said that such
reunions are scheduled every five years or so, and it is not likely that
her class will ever have another one. A copy of a letter that Mary wrote
to the Vassar Correspondent, Class of 1919, expresses her sentiments
about Vassar, an earlier reunion she missed, old college friendships and
other related matters (Appendix F, item 36).
There was one classmate who became Mary's friend through an unusual
set of circumstances. Rosal ie Rayner and Mary were acquainted, having
met early at Vassar and taken the developmental psychology class
together, but it was through a later chance meeting that they became
closer. The student body had recently passed a resolution banning
smoking on campus. As an outcome of that action, some of the students
would sneak off campus to a nearby cemetary to smoke a few cigarettes
every now and then. Mary went along with the crowd once or twice, but
she was not really a smoker. In Mary's home no one smoked and liquor was
never served. Rosalie, however, was a smoker. She smoked in her room,
in violation of the new rule, and she was caught. Mary explained that
she happened to meet Rosalie by chance just as she left her hearing
before the Student Council:
I happened to meet her, just as she came out of that exper-
ience, and she was just completely -- well, they1d just been
very nasty to her. She told me that they hadn't expelled
her, but they1d been pretty severe, and I guess she had to
promise never to do it again!
It was as an outcome of this meeting that Mary and Rosalie became
friends. During the Spring break in their Senior year, while Mary was
bobbing her hair in Media, Rosalie was interviewing for a graduate
assistantship in a university near her home in Baltimore. She was hired
 200

by Dr. John B. Watson at Johns Hopkins University. Later Rosalie and

Mary would meet again in New York City and resume their friendship, after
Rosalie had begun working at Johns Hopkins. Mary remembered Rosalie as
"an impressive young woman, good-looking and bright." From a well-to-do
Baltimore family, she was decidedly upper-middle class. An uncle of
hers was a member of the legislature.

Extra-Curricular Activities
Mary recalled that her extra-curricular activities revolved around
pol itical interests and concerns. The women's suffrage movement was
gaining momentum on the Seven Sister campuses and Vassar had a radical
reputation to uphol d by the time Mary arrived on the scene (Kendall,
1976, pp, 76,78,79,81,103,126-27,131-32,143-144ff). Inez Mi 1holl and had
preceeded her, and in 1908 she had staged a meeting in defiance of the
man who was President of Vassar, James Monroe Taylor. According to
Kendall (1976, p.145), Taylor was "the last of the Baptist clergymen to
head the college and no great friend of the activists." Milholland
risked expulsion by holding the meeting with Harriott Stanton (then Mrs.
Blatch) and her small group of suffragists which included the economist,
Helen Hoy. Both Milholland and Hoy were Vassar graduates. Inez
Milholland chose a cemetary nearby (perhaps it was the same cemetary
Mary and her classmates gathered in to smoke forbidden cigarettes a
decade later) in which to hold the meeting "as both neutral and hallowed
ground" (Kendall, 1976, p.145). Inez may be best remembered as the
elegant leader in sUffragist parades who always wore a white suit with
matching boots, a pale blue cloak, and a plumed hat. This young woman
 201

died prematurely in 1916, and, according to Kendall (1976), "she was

considered Vassar's great martyr to the cause." (p.146). Since Inez had
graduated in 1909, she was not on campus when Mary was there; she died
when Mary was a Sophomore. There was, however, another young woman whom
Mary remembered as a very active suffragist on campus. This classmate,
Miriam Beard, was the daughter of the Beards, prominent historians
(Jones, 1983, p.21). Miriam traveled to Washington, D.C. to march in
sUffragist parades. Mary was not as active herself, but she was a member
of this group. She did visit, with others, a member of the legislature
from the district of Poughkeepsie to solicit his support for the cause.
In her book, Pecu1 iar Institutions, Kendall (1976) notes that the
early members of the suffragists were either debutantes or women fr~m the
working classes. She makes the point that most women in the colleges in
those earlier years, around the turn of the century, were drawn from the
"sol idly bourpeof se":
They were the daughters of parsons and doctors, missionaries,
merchants and reasonably prosperous farmers. It was a
homogeneous group, unleavened by many volatile
e1ements...on1y the most visionary could possibly have suc-
ceeded in identifying either with the likes of Mrs. Astor or
such exotics as Rose Schneiderman of the Cap Makers unio~~
• (p.144)
Kendall continues by pointing out that those who did so identify, such as
Inez Milholland, usually had strong support, most often parental, at
home.
Although Kendall is speaking about a period only ten years prior to
Mary's own, it was a pivotal decade, marking the end of the Victorian
era, ushering in the 20th century, climaxed with World War I. Some of
that debutante class were entering the halls of academe, especially
 202

those of the Seven Sisters. Mary herself fit neatly into the category
of II s01idly bourqeo ise", She was the daughter of a successful merchant
who was active in his community and civic-minded. He occasionally ran
for local offices on the Republican ticket, and served in appointive
positions repeatedly. As noted above, it was fraternal support, not
parental, that gave Mary the voice to support more radical and visionary
causes. The strength behind the convictions, however, may have had its
bedrock in parental values. Her progenitors were, after all, pioneers --
a hardy lot. For other variations on this theme, see a letter,
postmarked 1972, from a Vassar friend of Mary, an upper classwoman, who
had recently been researching this era at Vassar in connection with some
archival work for a library at Radcliffe College (Appendix F, item 37,
pp, 1-8).

A more formal pol itical connection was Mary's participation in the

Socialist Club. She joined in her Junior year and became President when
she was a Senior. However Mary never joined the Socialist Party. Looking
back upon the Socialist Club in her latter years, Mary said, lilt was
just a little group of non-conformists. 1I While President she was able to
make a contribution to the student body as a whole, however. Mary was
chosen to organize and direct a conference that brought together
successful women from many different fields to share their insights with
the Vassar students.· This conference was an annual Vassar event. It
allowed the young women to hear firsthand about opportunities that might
open for them upon graduation. Mary derived a gratifying sense of
accomplishment from this endeavor. In retrospect, she said, "That was
the most important thing I did at Vassa~1I
 203

For her senio r thesi s in her economics seminar Mary wrote a paper
entit led The History of the Socia list Party in the United State
s. This
paper was a parti al fulfil lmen t of requirements in her major, Econo
mics.
Mary calle d it "one of my best studi es." (Jone s, 1983, p.l?)
. In
compiling the data for that study Mary went to New York and interv
iewed
some of the key people working for New Masses, a well-known
Social ist
Party journ al of that day.
It was while on this research proje ct that
Mary met Norman Thomas, the peren nial soci alist cand idate
for the
Presidency of the United State s. Unfortunately, Mary's copy of that
senio r paper has been lost.
In her Junio r year Mary asked permission to march in a Peace Parad
e
in New York City as an offic ial deleg ate from Vassar. Her petiti
on was
denied on the basis that her grades were not stron g enough to excus
e her
from class es for that brief period. Mary has always thought this was a
tactic al strate gy in the servi ce of the colle ge's conformist
attitu de.
There were repercussions for Mary, however. Somehow the New York
Times
listed her name as a deleg ate from Vassar College. She was calle
d before
the Vassa r stude nt coun cil and quest ioned about her prese nce
in the
Parade after permission had been offic ially denied. Mary, of cours
e, had
not left the Campus, and was able to convi nce the auth oriti es
of her
compliance with their direc tive. Had she not been able to persu
ade them
of her innocence, she would certa inly have faced expulsion.

Expanding Aspir ation s and Detours Along the Way

In high school Mary thought she might 1ike to be a nurse. By
the
time she was a Junior at Vassar she decided she would rathe r be
a doctor.
 204

There were, however, a few road blocks along this path. For one, when
she talked the matter over with a physician on the staff at Vassar, this
woman pointed out to Mary that most women who became doctors in that day
also became spinsters, not an attractive outcome, especially for one of
Mary's temperament. It was not easy for women to enter Medical School,
either. There was Women's Medical in Germantown, Pennsylvania, but few
other options. Another long and arduous course in an all-women
institution was not too appealing -- assuming, of course, that Mary was
accepted there. That brings up organic chemistry, not one of Mary's
favorite subjects! After Mary conquered Latin, she never again faced the
crisis of failure. Her grades in undergraduate school were good in
general, and in some cases they were excellent, but organic chemistry was
not among the latter grou~ The decisive turning point for her career
choice came later, however. It was not until her Senior year, when she
heard John B. Watson lecture in New York that Mary realized her true
vocation lay in psychology; to quote from a letter Mary wrote to Milton
J. E. Senn (1968), included with his oral history:
I came under the influence of John B. Watson when I was a
student at Vassar. I went to New York City for a weekend,
heard Watson lecture (I've forgotten the auspices) and de-
cided I would rather be a child psychologist than a pedi-
atrician.[55]

Psychology: Washburn Style

According to Gwendolyn Stevens and Sheldon Gardner (1982) in Volume
I of the Women of Psychology, Margaret F10y Washburn "was one of the most
powerful and respected of American psychologists" at the time of her
death in 1939 (p.104). She was a graduate of Vassar and became a full
 205

professor there in 1908, when her first important book was published, The
Animal Mind: A Textbook of Comparative Psychology (p.101). By stressing
the importance of studying animals to understand human behavior, Washburn
foreshadowed behaviorism which was founded soon after her text was
publ ished (p.101). Washburn·s 1aboratory was her pride and joy, but few
animal studies were conducted there. That was because the laboratories
in undergraduate college were used to introduce research methodology to
students. The kind of laboratory needed for first-rate animal research
"requtres a great deal of money and many doctoral candf dates" (p.lOO).

Washburn was a II gr eat theoretician and the integrator of research

findings of comparative psychology, while her personal research centered
on learning, perception, memory and experimental aesthetics research with
human subjects," (p.101). She foreshadowed behaviori sm in her bel i ef in
the importance of animal experimentation, but philosphically she was
antithetical to that orientation. In her Presidential Address to the
Americn Psychological Association in 1921, she offered a rebuttal to John
Watson's position in her espousal of IIIntrospection as an objective
method" (p.102 & p.138).
Mary took every psychology course offered while she was at Vassar,
except one. In Mary·s Senior year, Washburn taught a course with the
biologist, Tredwell, and Mary took it, along with the others (Jones,
1983, p.16). There was one branch of psychology that Washburn did not
like, Child Psychology, and this she did not teach, but another member of
the faculty did and Mary took that course as well. A benefactor offered
money to Vassar for opening a Nursery School, and Washburn was adamant in
her opposition (Jones, 1983). She was dedicated to the experimental
 206

method. Washburn's reputation as a teacher was superb. In an article by

Elizabeth S. Goodwin (1980) a quotation from a former student of Washburn
reflects a consensus:
[Her] 1ectures... were bri 11 iant, exact, c1 ear, wi th such a
wealth of references and citing of original sources as almost
to overwhelm a student... I recall wishing that the course in
social psychology would never end.... (p.74)
Prior to becoming a Senior, Mary had decided to major in psychology, and
she was both surprised and disappointed when Washburn denied her entrance
to the Senior Seminar. This course is described by Goodman:
Each year a few simple experimental problems were outlined by
Washburn. Senior students conducted the data-gathering and
analysis. The results were interpreted and prepared for
publication by Washburn and the papers then published under
joint authorship in the American Journal of Psychology. In
all, 69 studies were produced in this way, with 119 students
as joint authors. (p.73)
When Mary took her introductory laboratory course with Washburn in her
Sophomore year, Mary's lab Partner was less than enthusiastic: "She said
she hated it, and she wasn't cooperative, and we both got CiS". Mary
conceded that the lab course had not been very exciting: "You did all
these little things, deciding whether you could feel the difference
between weights -- it was this old-fashioned sort of laboratory thing!"
Mary did not know, in her Sophomore year, how strategically important the
boring lab course would turn out to be. It was only after taking many
more psychology courses -- social, developmental, child -- that she came
to realize that she wanted to major in psychology. Washburn was
unyielding, however. She told Mary, "You wouldn't enjoy the Senior
Seminar; it's just like that Sophomore lab course that you didn't like!"
It was then that Mary turned to Economics. She liked that subject very
 207

much. Her brother had majored in the field and was taking his Ph.D. at
Columbia. Later on he would teach at the University of Pittsburgh. Mary
was involved, as outlined above, in the Socialist Club and the suffragist
movement. Economics was related to these interests, as were her debating
interests. It was not, however, her first choice. Economics as a major
was a compromise for Mary. Her preference, by far, was Psychology.

The Daisy Chain

When Mary graduated her parents attended Commencement (see Appendix
F, item 38). Mary recalled that her father was disappointed that Mary was
not chosen as one of those graduating seniors to be a member of the
Vassar Daisy Chain. This is an annual ritual that adds color and levity
to an occasion that might otherwise become too solemn and staid. Mary
was not disappointed that she was not among those making up the Daisy
Chain. She realized that being chosen for that distinction had little to
do with any intrinsic persDnal merit. Those selected were usually
members of prominent or socially distinguished famil ies, such as her
classmate, Phyll is Stinson, whose brother became Secretary of State in
the President's Cabinet. Beauty may also have played a part in the
selection. Neither of these circumstances were under the control of the
participants.

Balance Sheet
On the other hand, Mary did experience some real disappointments and
defeats throughout her years at Vassar. She turned her first defeat into
victory -- by studying and passing the Latin course. A lesser
disappointment was not being admitted to the Vassar Chorus. Mary had
 208

always enjoyed singing and would have liked to have been a member of that
group. She believed that she might have been able to gain admission, if
she had been a little more persistent and tried out a second time (even
though she did not have a trained voice as some, such as her roommate,
did); but it did not matter that much to her. There was a vegetable
garden at Vassar during the period of the war, and Mary would have liked
to participate in this farming adventure, but, again, she was not among
the lucky ones that were chosen -- another minor defeat (Jones, 1983,
p.l?). These little incidents were almost trivial -- not being chosen
for the Chorus, the gardening group, or the Daisy Chain. Not being
all owed to take the Senior Seminar in Psychology was, however, of an
entirely different order, and Mary did something significant about that,
1ater on.
In the meantime, still at Vassar, there were some decided pluses.
Passing Latin was a successful hurdle. Organizing the Vocational
Conference was a real success, a major aChievement. The Senior paper she
wrote was outstanding. Her extra-curricular life as a member of the
suffragist group and her role as President of the Socialist Club were
satisfying and fun, and she enjoyed the Debating Team, especially the
tour to Smith College. Her social life was fulfilling. Her third
summer, following her Junior year, Mary went to a settlement house and
worked with under-priviledged children; this was arranged through Vassar,
and was a rewarding experience (Jones, 1983, p. 17). Mary sums it up
this way:
I think I left the impression that I had been somewhat
disadvantaged by going to Vassar where there were a lot of
people with more status,... I did do some things on a leader-
 209

ship level. And Vassar, a woman's college then, added

measurably to my background and my self-esteem. (Jones,
1983, p.68)

One, among the lot, who shone forth as a star at Vassar was Mary's
roommate, her closest friend. Mary noted that lois was:
Phi Beta Kappa her Junior year, and a musician who gave
concerts... I felt very inferior; in fact, I think that in
some ways Vassar left me feel ing rather inferior.... It
certainly got better towards the end, but I sometimes think
that one of the reasons I went on to graduate school was that
I felt inferior in college.
It may be, then, that one way Vassar contributed to Mary's background and
her self-esteem was by helping her become motivated to continue her
education in graduate school.
 210

Chapter IV
CONVERGENCE
AMajor Focus
Mary graduated from Vassar in the Spring of 1919. Her brother John
and his family were still living in Manhattan. This made Columbia
University an easy transition for her. There was no doubt in Mary's mind
that she shoul d go on to graduate school, and no doubt about her major
interest. Even though she had majored in Economics, she did so only by
default. Graduate school would be a way of fulfilling an unmet goal.
As soon as she could she went to Columbia for an interveiw with Dr.
Robert S. Woodworth, Chairman of the Department of Psychology.
Dr. Woodworth, who was then 50 years old, had published Dynamic
Psychology only a year prior to Mary's appearance on his threshold. Marx
and Hillix (1979) declare that it was this text in which Woodworth first
expressed his "systematic veiwpoint", one that was basically eclectic (P.
115). Marx and Hillix cite an anecdote from O.H. Mowrer's review of
Woodworth's text in which Mowrer quotes Woodworth as saying:
I guess I have, as you say, sat on the fence a good deal.
But you have to admit one gets a good view from up there and
besides, it's cooler! (p.115)[56]
Mary herself noted Woodworth's eclecticism, in commenting upon one of his
seminars that she and Harold Jones attended soon after they met. She
said, "Woodworth was an excellent person for that seminar because he was
eclectic. We talked about Freud, and we talked about Watson, and we
 211

talked about the more conventional academic psycho loq'is ts," (Jones,
1983, p.54). This was a graduate seminar attended by about a dozen
students, including Gardner Murphy and another affianced couple, Arthur
and Georgina Gates, as well as Harold and Mary. Mary recalls that she
and Harold were secretly amused at Arthur's and Georgina's manners in the
seminar. They were openly demonstrative, whereas Harold and Mary behaved
with more reserve.
Marx and Hillix continue by pointing out that Woodworth was not only
more accepting of introspection than most of his functional ist
colleagues, especially those of the Chicago school (t.e., James, Dewey,
Hall and Cattell, Woodworth's "beloved professor"), but that Woodworth
II gave more emphasis to motivation than the Chicago functional ists did."
(pp.115-116). This was, according to Marx and Hillix, because Woodworth
"emphasized the importance of considering the organism and insisted upon
putting the organism into the basic formula .... "(p.115). In doing so,
Woodworth not only departed from his functionalism by giving
consideration to lithe physiological events which underlie mottvat ton"
(p.116), he also rejected "a strict stimulus-response approach "(p.115):
The S-R theorists have often talked as though the stimulus
led directly to a response, without mediation of the organism
or dependence upon the organi sm to determine the response;...
Marx and Hi11 ix state that Woodworth "wr ote not S-R, but S-Q-R. " For
Woodworth believed in "purpose responses or sets of responses. n (p.116).
In his later writings, according to Marx and Hillix, Woodworth said that
lithe act of perceiving is intrinsically re inforcf nq" and this point of
vi ew- II per c e p t ion ... a san a dapt i ve be ha v i 0 r II ( p, 116 ) i n whie h

"successful performance is rei nforci ng without the operati on of either

 212

extrinsic drive conditions or extrinsic reward conditions" (p.116) places

Woodworth "more in the cognitive camp" (p.116) than the strictly
behavioral.
If Marx and Hillix have assessed Woodworth's position accurately,
then perhaps he applied some of these ideas of motivation and adaptation
in his assessment of the young Vassar graduate who crossed his threshold
in that summer of 1919, seeking admission to his graduate department.
Mary herself, when asked about Woodworth's acceptance, said, modestly,
"Maybe Columbia needed students in those days--I don't know." At any
rate, accepted she was, and with alacrity. Mary also declared:
Woodworth was my chief professor and I liked him very much...
I think of Woodworth very favorably.
To another interviewer, two years earlier, she said, "Oh, Woodworth was
just a lovely person!" (Jones, 1983, p.23).
Later in the interviewing process Mary spoke about taking a course
in mental testing at Teacher's College from Leta Hollingworth. When
asked to compare Washburn's and Hollingworth's styles as teachers,
especially relative to approachability for the student, Mary replied,
"Oh, I didn't approach either of them. Woodworth, however, was very-- I
could approach him; I felt very friendly toward Woodworth." Mary did
state, however, that she could have approached Hollingworth more easily,
probably, than Washburn, had she wanted to do so.

Lois Warner and Mary rented a one bedroom apartment in the same
building where Mary's brother, John, his wife, Ebba, and Mary's little
niece, June, lived. This was close to Columbia. Lois was continuing her
 213

musical education with the Mannes. She was still keeping company with
Guy Maier, the piano teacher from her high school days. They were
married a year or so later, and afterwards the young couple became a
well-known two piano team (Jones, 1983, p.37). Mary, who had been coming
to New York as often as possible while in Poughkeepsie, was delighted to
be settling down in this mecca. One of the first things she did after
moving into the new apartment was to sign UP for a course in American
History being offered by James Harvey Robinson at the New School of
Social Research in the Village. Ruth Mann, Mary's old college chum,
whose home was in New York City, signed up with her. Ruth had majored in
History at Vassar, and she was now beginning an apprenticeship in social
work. The two young women took the subway downtown together and as they
entered the classroom that first evening, Mary noticed a young man she
had seen at Columbia. He was deeply engrossed in conversation with a
young Asian man. Mary turned to her friend Ruth, saying, "Now there's
the most interesting man I've seen since coming to New York!" (see
Appendix F, item 39). She was impressed by the ease with which he
conversed with the Asian student. Mary, at this period in her life, had
had very little experience relating to members of another race.
Later on, towards the end of that first class, the interesting young
man approached Mary, asking her if he had not seen her on the campus at
Columbia, she said, "Yes", and he then asked if he might see her home.
"Oh, no", Mary renl ied, "I came here tonight with my friend, Ruth." When
Mary told Ruth, later, about this encounter, her friend said, "Now, Mary,
don't be silly! I can go home by myself perfectly easily! The next time
 214

he asks, you say, IYes l!1I At the very next class, Ruth reminded her, by
saying, 1I0h, there's your new friend, Harold Jones; don'f forget to let
him take you home tonight, Mary!1I Mary was surprised that Ruth had
Iearned the young man's name so soon, since Mary herself had not known
it. That evening Mary was even more impressed with Harold. This time
because he allowed her to maintain her autonomy by dropping her own
nickel in the subway turnstile.
When Harold was invited into Mary's apartment sometime later, it
was his turn to be impressed. He said he never expected to IIfind a young
woman with such a l tbreryl'' He was impressed by the broad interests it
displayed. From their first meeting these two got on well together and
they fast became inseparable companions; or, to put it in the vernacular,
it was "love at first s tqht l"

Harold Ellis Jones: Early Life and the Road Chosen

Harold was born December 3, 1894 in New Brunswick, New Jersey. His
parents were both natives of Massachusetts, their families having come to
New England in the 1630s. Harold's mother was Lessie Brown; her father
was Perez Rio Brown. Years later Harold learned from his sister,
Florence, who was eight years older than he, that after his maternal
grandmother died, Grandpa Brown took Florence with him to DAR meetings to
acquaint her with her early American heritage.
Harold was interested all his life in his personal genealogy. Mary
suggested that if your father's name is "Jones" and your mother's is
IIBrown ll maybe you need to do all you can to establish a sense of
individuality! (Jones, 1983, p.30). As a father, he passed this
 215

interest along to his children, especially Barbara, by sharing with them

the genealogical charts he carefully prepared from library research. He
was pleased to find among his forebears a man named Azubah Ellis. The
names "Azubah" and "Perez Rio" added color to the 1ineage charts.
Harold1s father was Elisha Adams (Ad) Jones. According to ~ Nevitt
Sanford, Dorothy H. Eichorn and Marjorie P. Honzik (1960), who prepared
Harold's Obituary for publication, Harold1s father was managing the
Agricultural Experimental Farm at Rutgers University at the time of
Ha ro 1d' s bi r th, Shortly afterwa rds, the fam11 y moved back to New
England, first to Amherst where Ad managed the Experimental Farm for the
Massachusetts Agricultural College.(p.593). Harold always regretted the
circumstance of his birth outside of New England. After a few years, the
family settled in New Canaan, Connecticut, on a large estate that Ad
Jones managed for a number of years for the Lapham family. (Jones, 1983,
PP.32-33). It was on this estate that Harol d spent hi s boyhood.

Ad's family believed in education. They sent him to Choate

Prepartory School, not because it was socially el ite, according to Mary,
but because it had an excellent reputation as an educational
institution and was in the neighborhood. Later Ad earned his bachelor's
degree at the Massachusetts Agricultural College, the same school where
he managed the Farm some years later.
Harold's mother, Lessie, did not go to college, but she was educated
at a private school in Philadelphia. By the standards of those days,
both parents were well-educated.
Harold had diphtheria as an infant and it left him with a somewhat
weakened heart. Frail as a child, he was educated at home by tutors and
 216

prepared for entrance into public high school in Stamford, Connecticut.

In his boyhood days, Harold grew up as an only child might have,
spending long hours playing on the grounds of the country estate, as well
as studying. later, upon entering the local high school, Harold became
editor of his high school newspaper (Jones, 1983, p.33), just as had John
Cover and Mary during their senior years at Johnstown High. Harold was
also elected President of his senior class and was voted by his
cl assmates as lithe one having done 'most for the school '." (Sanford, et
el., p.593). Harold graduated with honors from Stamford High.
Following in hi s father's footsteps, Harol d entered Massachusetts
Agricultural College in 1914. Sanford, et al., (1960, p.593) suggest
that it may have been his father's influence that led Harold to major in
biology. One of Harold's lifelong interests, however, was naturelore,
both flora and fauna. This could easily have begun in early childhood,
with those unhurried years, somewhat solitary, and the easy access to the
out-of-doors on the estate.
It was Mary's sister, louise, who showed a similar interest as a

child, and she, too, was encouraged, it may be recalled, by her father.
louise, like Harold Jones, continued this interest more formally in
college. She majored in Botany and later took her Masters in that field
at Columbia. Harold1s path diverged, as noted above, but his avocational
interest in nature continued throughout his 1ife (as has louise's).
After two years at Massachussetts Agricultural College, Harold
transferred to Amherst College in his junior year. It may have been his
mother's influence that prevailed in this decision. She wanted him to
have a more traditional 1 iberal education. (Sanford, et al, 1960,
 217

p.593). It was at Amherst that Harol d met Robert Frost , who

became a
close personal friend as well as his teacher. Years later Harol
d and
Mary would name their younger daughter Lesley, combining in that
name a
refere nce both to Harold's mother, Lessie, and Frost 's daughter,
who is
mentioned by her name, Lesley, in Frost 's well-known poem, The
Bluebird.
There were other Amherst schol ars who took an inter est in Harol
d's
intell ectua l development. Alexander Meikeljohn, Presi dent of
Amherst
College at the time, was one of them; Stark Young, another.
Sanford, et al., (1960) give these profe ssors credi t for foste
ring
Harold's innat e litera ry talen ts:
Here, no doub t, we find some of the sourc es of Haro ld's
remarkable lucid and graceful litera ry style . Harold Jones'
writin g has always been so clear , so like a mirro r that
us the objec t or conte nt without disto rtion , that his shows
has often escaped notic e and his writin g has seemed to style
have
been produced effor tlessl y. But we know that Harold labore d
over his style , devoting to his own writin g the same care
that he alway s gave to thing s which he was calle d upon to
edit. Many people have had the experience of handi ng a paper
to Harold Jones with the comp lete confi dence that, if he
appro ved, it was all right , and that, if it was not all
right , he would soon fix it so that it was. (pp.593-594)
Just as Harold had graduated with honors from high school, he did
so
from Amherst: Magna cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa. He had contin
ued with
his Biology major, and now took a summer post at the Insti tute
of Marine
Biology at Woods Hole. Afterwards, he returned to Amherst for
a year, as
an assis tant in Biology, before deciding to enter graduate schoo
l in the
Department of Psychology at Columbia Unive rsity (Sanford, et al.,
p.594).
Although Harold Jones was not a religi ous person in the conventiona
l
sense , and may never have attended any church, his stron g and
abiding
connection with nature approached the rever entia l. Mary has
said, "I
 218

think nature took the place with Harold that religion does for many
people. But of course it was less sociable; he did it all by himself."
(Jones, 1983, Pp. 32-33). Harold kept notebooks from his early days
through his high school years that were filled with naturelore. He also
wrote a column for the local New Canaan newspaper, as a teenager,
describing the migratory flyways of the birds in the sky over his head.
Many years later, when Harold and his young family moved to California,
he wrote his parents letters glowing with his descriptions of the new
wildflowers he was discovering. "There are dozens of species of
wildflowers blooming" out here, and lithe wild mustard grows two feet
high, providing a brilliant blanket of yellow covering the ground."
(Jones, 1983, p.32).
All of the above accurately portrays Harold1s personality, to be
sure, but only in part. Another very important ingredient was his gentle
but witty sense of humor. Some of the flavor of it may be caught from
his personally designed and executed Christmas cards (see Appendix F,
item 40, PP. 1 and 2). Mary recalled He ro l d'.s nurturant manner in
fathering their daughters that displayed a unique blend of humor and
gentle firmness. This combination of traits gave the girls a strong
sense of being loved and appreciated by their dad, even though he rarely
showed them physical demonstrations of affection. He was too much the
New Englander for that kind of display. Rather, his love came through in
his manner of relating day-to-day, and his encouraging words as well as
his patient exemplary behavior. And family holidays were enlivened by
Haro l d's antics..his skits and poems, and his own style of merry-making.
These contributions were welcomed not only within the family fold, but
 219

among the couple's circle of friends and colleagues throughout Mary and
Harold's lifetime together in Berkeley.
Back in the e.arly days at Columbia Graduate School, Harold came
under the benign influence of Robert Woodworth. The two men, more like
father and son than mentor and student, enjoyed going on camping trips,
and Sanford, et al., (1960, p.594) suggest, "We may be sure that they
talked not only about psychology, but about the manifold aspects of the
nature around them."
And then there was Mary.

~ Milestone Year, 1919-1920: Work and Love, Courtship and Marriage

Columbia was quite a change from Vassar in many ways. One experience
that was very different for Mary at Columbia was the academic climate.
When asked if she found Columbia's program rigorous, she replied:
It doesn't seem to me that it was as hard as Vassar. See!
When I ran into Vassar, it wasn't ..Q.!J.l1. "rigorous"; my first
year was awful! And I didn't have!nl of that at Columbia. I
didn't have any feeling of not being able to produce.
In addition to Woodworth's courses, Mary took a number of courses
from a Professor Poffenberger, whom she also liked. Both men served on
her dissertation committee later, Woodworth's being her Chair. Most of
Mary's professors in graduate school were men, whereas, at Vassar, almost
all were women. She did take the course, as mentioned above, from Leta
Hollingworth, but that was in the second year. Of course the student
body at Columbia was also different; overwhelmingly male. There were a
few women, however•••more of them at Teacher's College than in graduate
psychology. One woman student stands out in Mary's memory because of the
not-too-kind remark a male student at Columbia made about her: "She came
 220

to graduate school to get a Ph.D. and she didn't find html" This young
woman was not a friend of Mary. Mary did make friends with some of the
women students, but that was not during this first year.
Mary and Harold both completed their Masters in one year (Appendix
F, item 41). They took most of their courses together, and studied
together. Some of their study hours were spent in the library; some, in
Mary's apartment. There was time to study and time to break... and all
the time to become better acquainted and really get to know one another.
During this year Harold shared 1iving quarters with a young man a
bit younger than he, named Jul ian Spring, and Mary continued 1iving in
the apartment with Lois.
As the months rolled along Mary and Harold grew closer and closer
and they were aware that their relationship was both serious and
satisfying. There was very little social interaction that could be
labeled "dating". They were just together most of their waking hours.
Somet i mes they ate out; more often, Ma ry cooked for them in her
apartment. Money was scarce and the workload was heavy. The hours spent
studying together were happy as well as productive.
Mary recalls the occasion when they first spoke about marriage. It

was a bright day in early Spring, and they were on an outing together:
We were sitting up on a hillside somewhere... We'd gone off on
some kind of walk. I think weld taken the subway somewhere,
and were sitting on a hill when we began talking about
getting married.
By the time they climbed down the hillside, Mary and Harold were engaged.
Mary recalls saying, "Poor Lois! I'm going to have to put her out of the
apartment~ The next step was visits to their respective parents. First
 221

they went to Connecticut and Mary met her mother and father-in-law to be.
They were still living on the estate called "Waveny". Mary does not
recall feeling any anxiety about meeting Harold's parents and they found
her an acceptable candidate as a daughter-in-law. She believes that
Harold might have found some similarities in his mother's and Mary's
temperaments. Later on the engaged couple went to Johnstown for Harold
to meet Mary's family. By that time Mary and Harold had decided on
September 1st, Mary's birthday, as the wedding day.
Harold had a position with New York City for the summer at Randall's
Island. He would supervise the testing of retarded individuals. Mary
would work there, under Harold's supervision, giving the Terman mental
tests to the clients (see Appendix F, item 42). On the basis of the
test results Harold would assign individuals to appropriate homes or
institutions. Although Mary said, "It was just a summer job, really," it
was the first small step towards two long professional careers working
together, and foreshadowed the partnership they would continue throughout
their lives, in work as well as marriage. Since the Randall's Island job
would end by September 1st, and Mary would celebrate her birthday then,
it appealed to both of them as a suitable date for the marriage. Both
Mary and Harold would be continuing in the doctoral program at Columbia,
but Haro1 d wou1 d make more rapid progress than Mary, after their
marriage.
It would have been difficult to leave New York for a wedding in
Johnstown between the end of the Summer job and the beginning of the Fall
Semester at Columbia and so the couple decided on a simple ceremony in
New York. Although Mary's parents received Haro1 d and the news of the
 222

impending alliance with grace, Mary knew that they would have preferred
for her to marry a Johnstown man and settle down a bit closer to home.
Aunt Kate verbalized it by suggesting that Harold could teach at
Johnstown High! later on Mary learned that when her father told a
friend that his older daughter was getting married in New York, the
friend rep l ied, "Good! That saves you a lot of money -- not having to
pay for a wedding!1I (see Appendix F, item 43). Mary bel ieved that there
was a silent consensus in both families that Harold's parents were a bit
more upper-middl e cl ass than Mary's -- better educated, for exampl e
but Mary is quite certain this in no way intimidated her parents.

Bathtub Gin and ~ Disappointed Suitor

In the meantime there was another young man who had been harboring

outrageous fantasies about Mary, unbeknown to her. He was the cousin of

Ebba , John's wife. This young man, Herbert Head, had recently returned
from the war and was visiting his cousin in New York City. Mary met
him in her brother and sister's-in-law home, the apartment in the same
building where she was living. Herbert had brought his homebrew to share
with the family, and this was Mary's very first drink (and her only one
for a number of years; neither she nor Harold drank). Mary did not
recall either liking it or not; but she did remember thinking that it was
uforbidden ll , since it was illegal, and she felt a bit risque drinking it.
This was either before she met Harold or only shortly thereafter. later
on, however, when Herbert learned of her engagement, he reacted quite
strongly, accusing her of having "led him on", Mary thought that he may
have been led on by his own inclinations coupled with the loneliness
 223

natural to returning veterans. She was quite sure that she did nothing
that could have been construed as "leading him on". She never once
thought of him in such terms.
Mary had romantic thoughts about only one person. From the very
first meeting she had a growing sense that Harold was the right man for
her:
I certainly never felt that I wanted to marry anyone else, I
thought I was very fortunate to find him, that's all.[57]

The Marriage
By the time Mary and Harold's wedding day was approaching her
sister, Louise, was in New York, employed at the Columbia Botantical
Gardens. John Cover was Harold's Best Man and Louise was the bride's
Maid of Honour (see Appendix F, item 45 for Louise's version of this
courtship and wedding). There were no other guests at the ceremony, but
the person who officiated was a man of distinction: Norman Thomas. It
was John who suggested asking Norman Thomas, who was his acquaintance.
Mary had expected to be married in Norman Thomas' home, but just at this
time Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were in the process of moving. The ceremony
had to be moved, therefore, to Thomas' office. It just happened that

Ma ry and Ha rol d's weddi ng date fell on Mr. and Mrs. Thomas' tenth
anniversary; they were married on September 1, 1910 (Jones, 1983, p.60).
Many years later, after Harold's death, Mary discovered that Norman
Thomas forgot to sign the marriage certificate! Mary returned it to him
and he signed it belatedly, sending it back to her with an apology (see
Appendix F, item 46~
 224

Mary was married in a simple silk suit: lilt wasn't anything new or
special." (Jones, 1983, p.61). The ceremony itself was brief, consisting
of only the legally required phrases, by Mary's own choice. Afterwards
the bride and groom took a couple of days off and rode on a steamboat up
the Hudson River for their honeymoon. (Jones, 1983, p.61).
Mary kept using her maiden name until after the birth of her second
child in 1925. (Jones, 1983, p. 61). She took pride in asserting her
freedom from conventional constraints that did not fit her own needs and
purpose. She liked the idea of continuing to be Mary Cover, as the wife
of Harold Jones. It made more sense to her to have a simple, quiet and
inexpensive marriage ceremony, with only her brother and sister as
witnesses, rather than a lavish wedding that would interfere with
Harold's work and inconvenience everyone. This was the same Mary, grown
somewhat older, who had bobbed her hair and voted her pacifist
convictions at Vassar.

Another Kind of Romance

While Mary and Harold were working on their Masters and cementing
their relationship, Rosalie Rayner was helping John B. Watson conduct his
seminal studies on infant conditioning with the baby Albert B. Mary
speaks about Watson's early studies with enthusiasm, conveying a vivid
sense of how exciting and stimulating his ideas were:
As graduate students at Columbia University, my husband,
Ha rol d E. Jones, mysel f, and other members of our student
group were among those to whom Watson "sold" behaviorism. I
can still remember the excitement with which we greeted
Watson's (1919) Psychology from the standpoint of ~
Behaviorist. It shook the foundations of traditional
European-bred psychology, and we welcomed it... it pointed the
way from armchair psychology to action and reform and was
 225

therefore hailed as a panacea. (Jones, 1974, p.582)

Sometime during the Fall of 1919, surely by the end of that year or very
early in 1920, Rosalie visited New York City and she and Mary met again.
In the course of that visit, sharing news with each other, and catching
up on each otherls lives, Mary may have mentioned Harold Jones, and
confided some of her thoughts and feelings about him to her old college
chum. At any rate, Rosalie did mention John Watson to Mary: II... saying
she was in love with John Watson ll (Jones, 1983, p.23), and Mary adds, III
was so innocent, I just coul dn't believe it, you know," Thi s was before
the sensational divorce proceedings had hit the Baltimore headlines.
When Mary first came to Columbia for her entrance interview with Dr.
Woodworth she knew that she wanted to study psychology, not economics,
because, III liked the idea of working with people... psychology was
people ll , she said. This she knew back at, Vassar from some of her courses
there in child development. Now, in 1920, Mary saw the film of little
Albert and heard Watson lecture about it, and she was stirred to a
sharper realization of how much psychology might be able to help people,
especially troubled and fearful youngsters:
As she pondered Watson's descriptions of his work with an
infant named Albert, in whom he had instilled a fear of
rats .... an exciting thought crossed her mind: IIIf fears
could be built ~ by conditioning, as Watson had demon-
strated, could they not also be removed by similar pro-
cedures r" {Pomerl eau, 1984, p.1)[58]
In another place, Mary adds a postscript to the thought above, which
she had expressed in an anticipatory manner:
It has always been of the greatest satisfaction to me that I
could be associated with the removal of a fear when I came in
contact with this three year old, Peter, in whom a fear of
animals was already well established {Jones,1924).[59] I
 226

could not have played the role of creating a fear in a child,

no matter how important the theoretical implications. When
my own children came across the case of Peter in their
college textbooks, they too were relieved to find that I had
functioned in this benign capacity in the psychological
experiments with children and children's fears. (Jones, 1974,
p.S81)
While Mary was thinking about the possibility of helping youngsters
in the grips of fear by some liberating intervention, she was continuing
her own studies which were leading her in an even more pronounced
developmental direction. Harold, who was already Mary's study companion
as well as her betrothed, would soon follow in the developmental path.
In the meantime, however, he was pursuing a more traditional experimental
psychology program.

Early Married Life

Mary recalled the early months and years of marriage as happy ones.
Their shared lives moved along as they planned, without untoward events.
There were no crises of adjustment to work out - not even minor conflicts
or issues around day-to-day living. Mary said, "Harold was just very
helpful to me - in studying; that sort of thing, and I let him take the
initiative a good deal of the time." There were no questions about
finances, and it was simply taken for granted by both of them that Mary
would combine marriage, motherhood and a career. There was a tacit
assumption that they would have children, but when that would happen was
left to Mary's discretion.
Mary did decide to become pregnant when she and Harold had been
married a little over a year. She felt that it was a good idea to have
your children while still fairly young, and her decision was based upon
 227

this conviction.
One of Mary's most vivid memories of Dr. Woodworth's many kindnesses
was connected with her first pregnancy. She and Harold, along with four
other graduates psychology students, were scheduled to take a gruel ing
eight hour qualifying examination for Advancement to Candidacy.
Woodworth, noting Mary's maturing pregnancy, asked her, "Isn't it going
to be difficult for you, Mary, to sit through such a long day for this
test?" Mary agreed that it would be. "Well", said he, "Let's just make
all of them come for two days, instead of the usual one; weill schedule
two four hour exams," He was that kind of person.
Mary and Harold studied together for this exam, as they had for many
others. Both of them passed, but Mary recalled that Harold "did better"
than she.
While Mary was settl ing into married 1ife and preparing for
motherhood she was also working. First, at a public school in Manhattan,
P.S. 64 (see Appendix F, item 47), teaching learning disabled children in
an ungraded cl ass (Jones, 1983, p, 38).
The following year she worked as a consulting psychologist from
January 1 to December 31, 1922, according to the public record of the New
York State Association of Consulting Psychologists (see Appendix F, items
48 and 49). She recalled, however, quitting a bit early to give birth to
Barbara on November 6th of that year. Her boss was somewhat less than
gracious about this small breach of contract!
According to a letter from Maryls professor, Dr. Poffenberger, Mary
also taught Adolescent Psychology in the Y.W.C.A in New York and a course
 228

in Adolescent Psychology at Women's Medical in Philadelphia during this

period of her life (Appendix F, item 41, para. 2).
There is correspondence dated the summer of 1922 which portends
important future connections for Mary (see Appendix F, item 50, pp. 1-
4). John B. Watson had met Mary through her friend, the former Rosal ie
Rayner, whom Watson married after his divorce in 1920. In the summer of
1922 Watson tried to bring two professional women together in a way that
he thought would be beneficial to both. On the strength of Watson's
recommendation, Helen T. Woolley, the then Assistant Director of the
Merrill-Palmer School in Detroit, wrote Marya persuasive letter,
offering her a fellowship in Child Psychology. Mary, however, was
beginning the fifth month of her pregnancy at that time and was not
entertaining any plans to stray from hearth, home and Harold.
A couple of years later Mary would be engaged in ground-breaking
research with Watson himself, and several years hence she would have an
important association with Helen Woolley as well. Dr. Woolley would be
the third member of her dissertation committee, the other two members'
being Dr. Woodworth, as Chairman, and Dr. Poffenberger. Mary had cordial
relations with both of these teachers from the Department of Psychology.
Helen Woolley would serve on the committee as a l tason with Teachers
College, the division of Columbia which sponsored Mary's research
position.
Meanwhile, Harold was progressing in his doctoral studies and
working as a Teaching Assistant prior to completing his dissertation,
then as an Instructor, and finally as an Assistant Professor in Psy-
chology. Harold was an outstanding student at Columbia, as he had been
 229

throughout his academic career. By 1923 he completed his research in

experimental psychology and received his Ph.D.
Early in 1923 Mary was back at work. This time at a small private
school on the outskirts of New York City. She decided to take this job
because she was nursing her baby and the school allowed her to bring the
infant to work with her. Mary's responsibility was to administer tests to
Kindergarten youngsters, not teaching (see Appendix F, item 51). This
job lasted for only one semester.
By the beginning of the summer Mary was able to resume her graduate
studies. Teachers College had a Child Study Center which included a
nursery school. By enrolling Barbara there, Mary was able to schedule
classes in psychology at Columbia, some of which coincided with Barbara's
hours in the nursery school. Since Mary and Harold lived close to the
campus, Mary could walk, with Barbara in her stroller, back and forth
from home to nursery school, to classes.
Shared Housing: 1920s Style
44 Morningside Drive
During this period Mary and Harold moved from the apartment in which
they lived in the beginning months of their marriage. This was the
little one bedroom apartment Mary had previously shared with her former
Vassar roommate, lois Warner, when they first came to New York, after
undergraduate school. With the advent of Mary's pregnancy and Barbara's
birth, the young couple needed larger quarters and so they moved into a
1arge apartment with friends. Another coupl e, the Schl esingers and
Harold's friend, Julian Spring, shared this new home with them. Mary
recalled that their fire escape doubled for a terrace. "I remember we
 230

put Barbara out there in a basket; that fire escape was our porch!" said
Mary. This household arrangement lasted less than a year. It was a plan
that met the financial needs of these young students, not a social
experimen~ Meals were nota part of the shared livin~ They shared
only the common rooms. Relations were cordial but not intimate among the
members of the household.
The next move was to an apartment of their own, in a somewhat less
elegant neighborhood. Here Mary had some household help. A young
Canadian woman cleaned house and minded the baby at the same time, giving
Mary more time for her graduate studies.

The Heckscher Foundation

By September 1923 the Jones family was beginning a new living
arrangement. Mary had been appointed an Associate in Psychological
Research through Teachers College (see Appendix F, items 52 and 53).
Mary, Harold and Barbara were housed at Heckscher House where Mary would
be working. The apartment in which they lived had originally been
intended for a demonstration unit. "It was," according to Mary,
"supposed to be used to show girls how to run a household - cook and
manage other domestic chores." Instead it became home to this young
fami ly of three.
Mary recalled that the house was located on Fifth Avenue and called
"The Children's Home for Happiness." Mary told another interviewer, "It
was very unusual for a psychologist to actually live in the place where
she was working with and observing the children" (Jones, 1983, p, 57).
She elaborates further in a letter to Senn, "I think you have the
 231

information that Harold and I worked with children who were temporarily
separated from their parents (for various family reasons)" (Jones &Senn,
1968). The founder, after whom the house was named, had thought that it
would be an orphanage, but, as Mary explains, "There were not enough
children available who needed permanent care, as in an orphanage. There
were children there whose parents temporarily couldn't take care of them,
or perhaps they'd been deserted.... They were there weeks or months,
maybe a year or two. They were either retrieved [by parents] or they
were put up for adoption or went into foster homes, this sort of thing"
(Jones, 1983, po, 52-53).
Mary was not a staff member. Staff of the home consisted of a nurse
and a number of attendants. Mary was, however, permitted to observe and
make recommendations to the staff. This she did, with a gratifying
outcome. Mary observed the situations that led the children to fret and
cry as well as circumstances that prompted them to smile and laugh. She
kept detailed records of her observations and was able to use them to
document her conclusions, which she brought to the director of the home.
Her recommendations were acted upon, and these changes may have
alleviated some of the whining and crying.
One suggestion Mary made was to hire more attendants so that the
children could have optimum supervision, and not have to be kept in bed
as a custodial measure, beyond the time needed for adequate rest and
sleep.
Another recommmendation by Mary was to re-schedule nap time and rest
periods to better coordinate them with snacks and lunch; so that the
children would not become over-tired and famished.
 232

Mary never pUblished her observations and the outcome, but John B.
Watson (1924, pp. 140-142) did, with her permission. In his book,
Behavori sm, Watson's ci tat ions for M.C. Jones' works number seven
(p.250).[60J Not all the references are to Mary's recommendations about
mitigating the children's frustrations. Some refer to other work she was
doing at Heckscher, such as the study of blinking and smiling behavior as
an aspect of both physical development and conditioning. All of her work
at this period precedes her dissertation research by a couple of years.
Watson (1924) has another covert reference to Mary, or rather, to
Mary's daughter, Barbara. The reference was not to Mary's research, but
rather to his own, on the effect of loud noises on infants. In
discussing this research and infants' fear reactions to loud sounds,
Watson states, "Loud sounds almost invariably produced a marked reaction
in infants from the moment of birth" (p.121). Watson then explains
exactly how he was able to evoke this reaction and the various kinds of
sounds that serve to produce it. At the end of this paragraph he appends
a footnote:
I have found only one child out of many hundreds worked with
in whom a fear response could not be called out by loud
noises. She is well developed, well nourished, and normal in
everyway. There were no fear reactions to any other stimuli.
The nearest approach to fear I saw was at the sight and sound
of an opening and closing umbrella. I have no explanation to
offer for thi s exception.(p. 121)
Mary, however, recognizing this passage as an allusion to her
daughter, had an explanation. She pointed out that Barbara, who was by
temperament an easy-going, relaxed child, was in her own home with her
parents close by. She saw no cause for alarm. It was a quite different
experience for her from the kind that Watson's customary subjects
 233

experienced, in laboratory settings, away from the environment of home

and parents. Watson, furthermore, was not a stranger to this child.

The Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial Fund

According to Milton J.E. Senn (1975), Lawrence K. Frank's "first
grant proposal for the establishment of a child study institute was made
to Dean James E. Russell of Teachers College in 1924" (P. 15). Helen
Woolley was invited to come to Columbia from Merrill-Palmer School to be
the first director of the new institute. Although she accepted, she
never functioned in that capacity, because she became ill soon after her
arrival. She did, however, serve on Mary's Dissertation Committee, as a
representative of Teachers College and as an expert in child development,
the focus of Mary's research. Mary would receive her degree from the
Department of Psychology, but her appointment as an Associate in
Psycho1 ogica 1 Research in the Institute of Educational Research nlaced
her on the staff of Teachers College.

Lawrence K. Frank[61]
Much has been wri tten about Lawrence Frank, whose background in
economics prepared him for a strategic role in the growth of the child
development field in the early 1920s. After World War I, '"the 1919
White House Conference on Children took pains to impress on the pub1ic_.
the alarmingly poor physical and educational showing of the army
recruits" (Senn, 1975, p, 11). The social climate was right and Larry
Frank was ready to promote the scientific study of children as a means of
improving the quality of life for all ages throughout the country. While
earning his B.A. in Economics at Columbia Frank had become interested in
 234

the high rate of infant and maternal mortality among the poor in the
lower West Side of New York City. He worked there both as a volunteer
and a paid worker, for the Bureau of Social Research (p. 12). Frank has
been called a IICatalyzer ll ; today the term used to describe his talents
might be IIfacilitator~

Henry Murray, whom Senn quotes, speaks in his own inimitable way
about larry Frank. His statement may capture some of those qualities and
characteristics that helped account for Frank's outstanding success in
this vast undertaking:
The procreative Johnny Appleseed of the social sciences, a
peripatetic horn of plenty, crammed to his lips with every-
thing that's new, budding, possible, and propitious, an
enl ightened, jolly human being who has gone from pl ace to
place, from symposium to symposium, radiating waves of at-
mospheric warmth, cheerfulness, and hope, as he spread the
seeds for novel, hybrid, research projects to be nurtured,
implemented, and actualized by others. (p.22)
This was the man who helped bring together, in the first quarter of this
century, Mary Cover Jones and John B. Watson to work on an important
research endeavor. IIBy means of a subvention granted by the laura
Spelman Rockefeller Memorial to the Institute of Educational Research of
Teachers Col Ieqe" (Jones, 1924, p.30B, ftnt. 1), it became financially
possible for Mary and Dr. Watson to form a working alliance. It was
Mary's research with the toddler, little Peter, that laid the cornerstone
for the foundation upon which the superstructure of behavior therapy has
been built (see Appendix F, item 54~

larry Frank does not deserve all the credit for this alliance, of
course. First of all, there was Mary's personal connection, through her
longstanding friendship with Watson's wife, Rosalie Rayner Watson. There
 235

was Thorndike's contribution as well.

Edward Lee Thorndike

D~ Thorndike was almost equidistant in age between D~ Woodworth
and Dr. Watson, approximately five years younger than the former and four
years older than the latter. His lifelong interest was in the field of
intelligence and learning and his doctoral dissertation at Columbia was
about animal intelligence. Thorndike came to teach psychology and child
study at Teachers College, Columbia University, in 1899. In his
autobiography (1961, p.265) he notes that "there I have spent the past
thirty-one years." At the end of this short resume of his 1ife,
Thorndike sums up his view of the field of psychology:
Excellent work in psychology can surely be done by men
widely different in nature or training or both..... Excellent
work can surely be done by men with widely different notions
of what psychology is and should be.... Excellent results
have come from the successive widenings of the field of
observation to include the insane, infants, and animals, and
from the correlation of mental events with physiological
changes. Should we not extend our observations to include,
for example, history, anthropology, economics, linguistics,
and the fine arts, and connect them with biochemistry and
biophysics? (P. 270)
From this passage it is clear that Thorndike, like Woodsworth, took an
eclectic and an interdisciplinary view of psychology. Perhaps the tenor
of Thorndi ke's personal ity comes through best in the same work, a bit
earlier, when he says:
Peaceful successful work without worry rarely tired me....
Noise does not disturb me unless it is evidence of distress,
as of a person or animal in pain.... Social intercourse
except with intimate friends is fatiguing and all forms of
personal conflicts, as in bargaining, persuading, or re-
buki ng, are trebly so....A genera 1 background of freedom
from regret and worry is almost i mperati ve.... The good
opinion of others, especially those whom I esteem, has been
 236

a very great stimulus, though I have come in later years to

require also the approval of my own jUdgement. (PP. 269-270)
This is the man who was a leading figure in the Department of Education
at Teachers College in 1924 when larry Frank came to him with some
Rockefeller funds for research in child development. It was several
years since Watson had taken a job with the J. Walter Thompson Company in
New York City following his resignation from Johns Hopkins University.

John Broadus Watson

It is a laconic phrase of lois Meek Stolz, in Milton Senn's Oral
History that captures the essence of Watson's position in this period of
his 1ife, "Since he [WatsonJ had been put out of Johns Hopkins he had
been selling Daggett and Ransell's cold cream, as I understand it,
instead of working with children" (Stolz & Senn, 1968, p.4). Watson
himself (1961) puts it this way:
Upon resigning, I went to New York, stranded economically
and to some extent emotionally. I lived the Summer and Fall
out with William I. Thomas. What I would have done without
his understanding counsel and his helpfulness on the econo-
mic side, I do not know..... through him I got my first
business tryout with the J. Walter Thompson Company.... the
Pres i dent, Mr. Stanley Resor.... sent me... s tudyi ng the
rubber boot market on each side of the Mississippi River
from Cairo to New Orleans. I was green and shy, but soon
learned to pull doorbells and stop wagons.... to ask what
brand of rubber boots was worn by the family. This took the
Fall of 1920, the whole of the trying time when I was front-
page news in Baltimore. On January 1, 1921, I... was sent
out... to sell Yuban Coffee to retailers and wholesalers in
Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and Erie. (p. 279)[62J
This, then, was the fate of the man "misfortune overtook", to borrow a
phrase from Robert S. Woodworth's Obituary of John Broadus Watson (1959,
p. 302). Woodworth opens with the epithet, "The founder of Behaviorism"
(P. 301) and continues by pointing out that Watson was the President of
 237

the American Psychological Association in 1915 (p. 302), as well as

Professor of Experimental and Comparative Psychology and Director of the
Psychological laboratory from 1908 to 1920 at Johns Hopkins (P. 302).
later, in 1924, Watson became a Vice President of the J. Walter Thompson
Company, but at this time he was a surveyor of rubber boot sales and a
salesman of coffee and cosmetics.
Although Watson never returned to the academic mainstream, he did
keep his hand in, to a limited degree, for a few years. According to
Senn, when Myrtle McGraw went to work for J. Walter Thompson in 1928 she
met John B. Watson, then a Vice President of the company. Dr. Senn
states, IIA few years later, when she [Myrtle McGraw] was conducting her
Normal Child Development study under neurologist Frederick Tilney at
Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons,1I she invited
Watson to serve on her advisory Council, and she "became a close friend
of his. Other members of the council were Woodworth, Thorndike, and
Charles Davenpor-t" (Senn, 1975, p, 28). Again, quoting McGraw, "They met
often, and when the time came for me to write [my] book they read it in
manuscr tpt ," (P. 28). Myrtle McGraw goes on to ask the question, IICan
you imagine a whole advisory council of eminent people like that doing it
today for a 1ittle researcher?" (P. 28). It was, no doubt, a simil iar

snt rit that prevailed when Mary undertook her important and ful fill i ng
work with Dr. Watson, a few years earlier.

Dr. Watson and Mrs. Jones

It was Mary Cover Jones who was probably the last graduate student
to work directly under Watson's supervision. In Senn's (1968) interview
 238

with Lois Stolz, she tells of her attempt to make a simi1iar connection:
Dr. Thorndike said, "There is someone who is interested [in
child research] and I think you ought to go see him." And
he to1 d me that John B. Watson... was goi ng to do some
research for Teacher's College; that they had been given a
grant, the fi rs t ... by the Laura Spelman Roc kefe 11 er
Memori a1 a tri a 1 grant... to beginto try to get people
interested in research with chi 1dren; and so they tried to
get Dr. Watson to come back into the field, so to speak.
(PP.34)
Stolz continues by noting that Watson was a "tall, handsome man who was
so courteous and so interested...." (p.4). Mary (Jones, 1974) has al so
commented upon Watsonls style and his somewhat formal manner:
I have never assumed a firstname basis in talking of John B.
Watson. Our relationship was more formal than not. This may
be due to the custom at that time for contact between
colleagues, especially in the student-teacher relationship,
to remain impersonal. Watson regularly addressed his
colleagues in correspondence by their last names.... I
never lost the feeling of awe that I had for Watson, the
scientific innovator. It would have been very uncomfortable
for me to have called him John. This may be only a
reflection on professional style in the 1920's, but I suspect
it tells you something about our respective personalities as
well. (p.583)
In another place Mary sheds more light upon her personal
relationship with Watson (Jones &Senn, 1968). She is speaking about her
own happy married life and how completely involved she was, at this stage
of her 1ife, with her personal relationship with her husband, and she
adds:
This is one of the reasons why perhaps I can't recall as much
or was not as influenced by other factors during this early
period. As live mentioned, I knew Dr. Watson but his
personality wasn't important to me. His visits and his
comments about my research and so forth were very important,
but people who have asked me to reminise about him 11m sure
have found my reminiscences disappointing, and this is
probably true of other movements and other people at this
period, probably because of my engrossment in one person....
I was a little insulated in my own family situation. (p.26)
 239

Mary elaborates this point again (Jones, 1983):

One reason I wasn't so impressed with him [Watson] was that I
met him through a friend... more personal than professional.
The other thing is, ... I was first married and I was just
attached to Harold, and other men didn't exist for me, even
to look at, apparently! Although I will say that I enjoyed
Watson very much, and did appreciate his style. He was a
Southern gentleman. (p.50)
In an earlier publication (Jones, 1975) Mary concurs with the
assessment given by Lois Stolz:
Henry Murray labelled him "charismatic" and that he was!
Handsome, self-assured, able, ambitious, a Southerner with
persuasive manner. (p.183)
And then she states, "He was a generous person," in speaking of his
insistance that Mary's name appear alone on the studies of fear (Jones,
1983, p.52).
To return to Lois Stolz's statement, she also sheds light upon the
Heckscher Foundation (Stolz & Senn, 1968):
Thi s was a foundation that took care of chi 1dren that were
abandoned, and sometimes they took care of children whose
parents were temporarily in the hospital or a mental
hospital. And he [Watson] told me that there was a young
woman who had started research down there, and that I should
go to see her to get some ideas about what I might like to
do; then he would be glad to talk to me again. (p.4)
She did go to Heckscher House, and:
Lo and behold, the person whom I met there was Mary Cover
Jones. She had moved with her one year old baby, Barbara, to
the... Foundation to do research on some of the children. Her
husband had also moved in, but he was teaching at Columbia.
I started to do some observing••• [but] the children got
diphtheria; the Heckscher Foundation was closed, and I
wasn't allowed to go in; ... I had to give up hopes of
working under Watson. (p.4)
In commenting on her good fortune in working under Watson's
supervision, Mary herself has said (Jones, 1975):
 240

I believe I was the last graduate student fortunate enough to

work with Watson. If there is any value in having me here
today, it is to illustrate how events may shape lives and how
one's dignity, in the Skinnerian sense, evaporates when
fortuitous causes of one's destiny are revealed. (p.182)
This appraisal eloquently expresses the chance aspects of Mary's destiny:
the good luck of being in the right prace at the right time.
There is another aspect that must be factored in, however, whi ch
Maris modesty overlooks. It is expressed most succinctly in the well-
known quotation, IIIn the fields of observation, chance favors only the
mind that is prepared!'[63] This text is amplified for the present case
most adequately by an old friend and close associate of Mary, Nevitt
Sanford, in hi s Introductory Notes to her Oral Hi story in the Bancroft
Library archives (Jones, 1983):
Mary represents a kind of psychologist that has become too
rare; that is, one brought UP in the stern tradition of
experimental psychology and thoroughly schooled in rigorous
quantitative methods for the study of personal ity but who
remains open to radically different approaches. (ii-iii)
Sanford's statement documents Mary's training, undergraduate and
graduate, that prepared her to utilize the complex set of circumstances
that destiny bestowed upon her as an opportunity.
To return to Mary's own view of the matter, she remembered that she
went to a gathering in Teachers College where Lawrence Frank had come to
discuss the new Rockefeller grant:
He was going to be at Teachers College seeing people and
there was a group of us who met with him and he told us about
graduate fellowships which would be multidiscipl inary, to
find out about children. I applied and got one of those. I
took a course in Medical School. I took courses at Teachers
College and at Columbia, but I still got my degree in
psychology at Columbia.

.r
 241

In another, earlier interview, Mary talks about this same situation

(Jones, 1983):

I had the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Fellowship in Child

Development for two years. It was a matter of branching out
from psychology to take in nutrition, neurology, early
ch t l dhood education, ... chil d development was i nter-
di sciplinary. (p.35)

This interdisciplinary thrust was new at the time. It was fostered

by Larry Frank, who was sensitive to the complex currents in psychology
and education that were coming together to form the discipl ine to be

known as chil d development.[64] Frank's skill as an inspirational

organizer coupled with his influential position relative to funding for
the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial were pivotal to the movement.

When combined with the open and eclecttc outlooks of both Thorndike and

Woodworth, the stage was set at Columbia. Watson had only to enter, in
a consultative capacity, as supervisor of a young graduate student and

researcher interested in the new, exciting fiel d of Chi 1d Development.

Mary, 1iVing with her family at Heckscher House, observing and studying
the children there, found a youngster called Peter, who manifested an

advanced case of the kind of fear reactions Watson and Rayner (1920) had

instilled by conditioning a few years earlier at Johns Hopkins, in the

famous case of Albert. Mary (Jones, 1924b) cites the astonishing

parallels between Albert and Peter in her paper called IIA Laboratory
Study of Fear: The Case of Peter":
This case is a sequel to one recently contributed by Dr.
Watson and furnished supplementary material of interest in a
genetic study of emotions. Dr. Watson's case illustrated how
a fear could be produced experimentally.... Albert, eleven
months of age, was an infant with a phlegmatic disposition,
afraid of nothing... except a loud sound made by striking a
steel bar.... By striking the bar at the same time that
 242

Albert touched a white rat, the fear was transferred to the

white rat. After seven combined stimulations, rat and sound,
... this fear had spread to include a white rabbit, cotton
wool, a fur coat, and the experimenter's hair. (pp.308-309)
Mary continues by quoting Watson's next question, the one that fate
prevented his answering in his own laboratory with little Albert himself,
"lf you take away anyone of these objects producing fear and
uncondition, will fear of the other objects in the series disappear at
the same time? That is, will the unconditioning spread without further
training to the other stimul i?" (P. 309). Mary then continues by
pointing out that Dr. Watson had intended to continue the study of Albert
to try to answer this question, "but Albert was removed from the hospital
and the series of observations was discontinued," (P. 309). Then Mary
explains:
About three years later this case, which seemed almost to be
Albert grown a bit older, was discovered in our laboratory.
Peter was 2 years and 10 months old when we began to study
him. He was afraid of a white rat, and this fear extended to
a rabbit, a fur coat, a feather, cotton wool, etc., but not
to wooden blocks and similiar toys.(P. 309)
After a detailed description of Peter's fear responses, contrasting
them with the normal responses of a developmentally healthy child, Mary
states: "This case made it possible for the experiment to continue where
Dr. Watson had 1eft off" (o, 310).
Mary wrote another paper about Peter publ ished in the same year
called "The Elimination of Children's Fears" (Jones, 1924a). These two
articles document the careful, patiently painstaking method for removing
a fear reaction that had been a response previously acquired by a child.
By trying out, in a systematic way, a number of theories about methods
for removing fears, Mary was able to eliminate them, one by one, and
 243

finally select the two methods which yielded "unqualified success"

(Jones, 1924a, p. 390). To quote directly from the summary paragraph of
this article:
By the method of direct conditioning we associated the fear-
object with a craving-object, and replaced fear by a positive
response. By the method of social imitation we allowed the
sUbject to share, under controlled conditions, the social
activity of a group of children especially chosen with a view
to prestige effect. Verbal appeal, elimination through
disuse, negative adaptation, 'repression', and 'distraction'
were methods which proved sometimes effective but were not to
be relied upon unless used in combination with other methods.
(p. 390)
In the concluding remarks of Mary's second article, also about
Peter, she makes the point that this study "is still incomplete" (Jones,
1924b, p. 315) because:
Peter's fear of the animals which were shown him was
probably not a directly conditioned fear.... Where the fear
originated and with what stimulus, is not known. Nor is it
known what Peter would do if he were again confronted with
the original fear situation. All of the fears which were
"unconditioned" were transferred fears, and it has not yet
been 1earned whether or not the pri mary fear can be
eliminated by training the transfers. (p. 315)
In Watson's Behaviorism (1924, pp. 132ff.), he speaks at some
length about Mary's work with Peter. Prior to this, however, in the same
book, Watson outlines a paper that he and Rosalie Rayner publ f shed in
Scientific Monthly in 1921. He quotes directly from that article to
explain the conditioning of a fear response to a white rat that was
induced in the infant Albert; continuing, he explains how this reponse
was then transferred to other objects: a rabbit, a dog, a fur coat and
cotton wool (PP. 125-128). Watson states that in 1918 he began his work
upon the problem of how fears arise in children early in life, and
continue into adulthood. It was not, however, until the summer of 1919
 244

that he and Rosalie Rayner began their landmark work with Albert B., the
11 month old son of one of the wet nurses in the Harriet Lane Hospital,
who was remarkable for being a "wonderfully 'good' baby.1I
After outlining the experiment and explaining that the
deconditioning could not be completed, Watson turns to Mary's
contribution, explaining when and how it came about:
The matter of further experimentation rested until the fall
of 1923. At that time a sum of money was granted by the
Laura Spel man Rockefell er Research of Teachers College, a
part of which was used for continuing the study of the
emotional life of children. We found a place for work - the
Heckscher Foundation. Approximately 70 children are kept
there ranging in age from 3 months to 7 years. It was not an
ideal place for our experimental work because we were not
allowed full control of the children and because of the
frequency with which work had to be stopped on account of
unavoidable epidemics of one kind or another. In spite of
these handicaps much work was done. While I spent
considerable time there as consultant and helped to plan the
work, Mrs. Mary Cover Jones conducted all of the experiments
and wrote up all of the resul ts.... (P. 132)
The footnote designated in Watson's text then cites the article liThe
Elimination of Children's Fears" (Jones, 1924a) as one which has "al ready
appeared. II
Mary talks about her feelings and thoughts about these publications
which have been called "a cl assic" (Senn, 1975, p. 27). First of all,
she was reluctant to publish them under her name alone. She knew that
this piece of work was the only research with which Watson was any longer
connected. "He gave lectures at the New School of Social Research in the
Village, and other places, and he wrote books, but this was the only
research he was still doing,1I she said. She asked him to let her publish
jointly with him. He, however, replied, IINo, you are young and just
beginning your career, Mrs. Jones; you have done the research and written
 245

it up yourself; you should be the one to pUblish i~ I have all ready

done my work," Mary then told him that her husband, Harold, had helped

her in writing the articles, suggesting a chart that she included. She
thought perhaps she should publish jointly with Harold. Watson remained
adamant, saying, uNo, you, and you alone, should sign these art.tcl es."

In a study by W.A. Kaess and W.A. Bousfield (1954 p. 147) analyzing

the frequency with which authorities are cited by the authors of nine
textbooks of introductory psychology, Mary is ranked among the top 26.

Yet, when these first two articles appeared in print in 1924 IINo one",
according to Mary's testimony, "had any idea they would become so well-

known later on," She adds, laughing, IINobody wanted my reprints; I've

still got them!1I Moreover, since the studies used too few cases, it did
not earn her a Ph.D. IIS 0 1l , says she, III didn't think it was tmpor-tant,"

Mary's primary motive in undertaking this piece of work was not to

see her name in print, but to help Peter overcome his painful fears. She
also hoped that she might be able to demonstrate a method that would be

helpful to other youngsters in the future.

The Home for Happiness

Meanwhile, the Jones' family life flourished in the apartment at

Heckscher House. Barbara was not a lonely little girl in these first
years. While she lived apart, with her mother and father, she could find

pI aymates among the youngsters in the Home. Most of them were "under

four years of age" (Jones, 1924a, p. 385). Barbara herself was only a
year old in the Fall and Winter of 1923 - 1924, when the study of Peter

was undertaken. Watson has testified to Barbara's fearlessness in the

 246

presence of loud noises.[65] Mary recalled her daughter as a mild-

mannered little girl of easy disposition.
When Barbara was a newborn, Mary thought she looked 1ike Harold's
mother. Later, when Lesley was born, she favored Harold, in Mary's eyes.
Friends tended to see a resemblance between Barbara and Mary, and Harold
and Lesley. In later years, Mary could see that both daughters resembled
her, in each ones own way. Mary had a friend and associate of many years
who told her, "I always thought Lesley favored her father, but now I can
see quite a bit of you in Lesley; not just in looks, but in temperament,
too. II Beginning early in their 1ives, the sisters differed in basic
temperament. Lesley had always been quite active and somewhat more
extroverted than her older sister. When Lesley was observed in nursery
school many years ago by the same long-standing associate and friend
quoted above, she told Mary, "Lesley always knows exactly what's going on
there, all of the time! II Mary bel i eved tha t the temperamenta 1
differences between the sisters were not a result of differing child-
rearing practices, or environmental factors, but rather a matter of
innate predispositions or tendencies.
During the years that Mary earned her stipend as a research
associate of the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Foundation, through the
auspices of the Institute of Educational Research of Teachers College,
and Harold was teaching on the faculty of Columbia in the psychology
department, from 1923 to 1927, the young family visited both sets of
parents quite often. Harold's parents were close by, still in New
Canaan, Connecticut. The two youngsters, Barbara and Lesley, were their
 247

only grandchildren.

Harold's older sister, Florence, married when she was quite young.

Her husband taught at the Massachusetts Agricultural College and also

worked at the Agricultural Experimental Station attached to the college.

later on, when he retired, the coupl e moved to Tucson, Arizona. They

never had childre~

During this same span of years, while the Jones' daughters were

infants and then toddlers, the family also took trips to visit Mary's

folks in Johnstown. This usually occurred during the Christmas holidays.

The Covers had four grandchildren. John and Ebba Cover's older child,
June, was born in 1919 on June 7th. She had just turned six when lesley

was born to Mary and Harol d, June 8, 1925. June's 1ittl e brother, John
Higson Cover, Jr. (Jack) was about four years old when lesley was born,
and Barbara was two and a half. All four grandchildren, with parents,

did not visit the senior Covers at the same time!

There were two summers spent in Vermont during these years. Harold

was working on a project there and Mary worked with him. Herbert Conrad,

a student of Harold at Columbia, was also working with them, under

Harold's supervision. They were giving intelligence tests to community

members in the town of Bethel, Vermont. The results of this work were

pUblished by Harold. Herbert Conrad became a close friend of the

Joneses. When they went to the University of Cal ifornia at Berkeley,

Conrad followed later, working under Harold's direction for his Ph.D.

Conr a d met Mi1 dre d, his wi f e - to - be, at the Ins tit ute 0f Chi 1d
Development, or, as it was at first called, the Institute of Child
Welfare. Mildred Conrad was widowed for a number of years. The couple
 248

moved back East, settling in Washington, D.C., many years ago. Mary and
Mildred remained friends, but because of the geographical distance
between them, they rarely saw one another.
In these early years in New York City the Joneses had another
student friend, John Reid, who also followed them to California later on
and found a wife at the Institute. She was Nancy Bayley, the
psychologist who designed the developmental scales now known as the
"Bayley Scales". John Reid became a professor of philosophy at Stanford
University.
Although Mary has made the point that she did not think of Watson as
a personal friend and was always a bit in awe of him, there is a passage
in the Bancroft Oral History that suggests a more friendly and informal
relationship, if not actually a collegial one:
He [Watson] really didn't talk much about his theories...
with me. He would talk more about how much it cost him to go
out.. Saturday night, and whether, for a talk, he should wear
a blue suit or a brown one. Once I told him "a business
suit", when he was going to be on the platform to speak at
Teachers College... and everyone else had blue suits. He
scolded me for not having properly prepared him... I think he
just was glad to get away from that [Le, theoretical talk]
on Saturday's when he came up to our house. (Jones, 1983, p,
50)

Contrapuntally, Mary's academic and professional interests

continued, along with her full domestic life, social interaction and
expanding maternal responsibilities. After completing the study on
children's fears and preparing them to be published in 1924, Mary became
pregnant for the second time. Both Barbara and Lesley were born earlier
than expected; Barbara, a couple of weeks before her due date; Lesley,
about ten days early. The births themselves were normal. Mary spent two
 249

weeks in the hospital for each delivery, as was customary in those days.
She suffered only a 1ittle from morning sickness early in her
pregnancies. Both infants were healthy and good-natured.
By the time Lesley was born in the early summer of 1925, Mary was
well launched on her dissertation. It was published in 1926 in the
Pedagogical Seminary and Journal of Genetic Psychology. In December of
that year it was reprinted by the Child Development Foundation.

The Dissertation
In reference to her dissertation research, Mary has said (Jones,
M.C., 1975):
Watson suggested that for my dissertation I extend his
observations of infants developmental activities to a larger
and more representative sample in order to provide normative
data... I compared my measure based on data from well-baby
clinics in New York City with those of baby biographers -
from Pestalozzi in 1784, Darwin, 1877, and Shinn, 1900, to
Gesell1s tests on 24 children published in 1925. Many of
these behaviors have continued to figure in developmental
schedul es, (P. 182)
The activities of infants that Mary measured included smiling, eye
coordination (horizontal, vertical, circular), bl inking, head support,
thumb opposition, reaching, sitting, and the Babinski reflex. (Jones,
M.C., 1926, p. 539). In speaking of the number of cases Mary states:
Three hundred and sixty-five cases were included in the
study, and a total of 735 examinations were made (a mean of
about two examinations for each child). A weekly visit was
made to each clinic [of the three Baby Welfare Stations
selected] over ~ period of eight months. (Jones, 1926, p.
541)

She continues by reporting:

Two months were spent in acqulrlng a technique and in making
revisions in method as experience suggested. Practice on
over two hundred cases not only standardized but practically
 250

automatized the details of the procedure. (P. 541)

While doing this, Mary was also running her household and living her
private life as has been detailed above.
Mary's study of Peter had been "conducted on her own time", not
staff time as a research associate, (Stevens & Gardner, 1982, vol. 2, p.
42). Concomitantly, she was busy with other research to fulfill her
obligations as a staff member. It was that research that Watson (1924)

cited in Behaviorism:
Mrs. Mary Cover Jones has made an extensive study of smiling.
In a large group of children she found that conditioned
smiling - that is, smiling when the experimenter smiles or
says babyish words to the infant (both auditory and visual
factors) - begins to appear around the 30th day. In her
total study of 185 cases, the latest age at which the
conditioned smile first appeared was 80 days. (p. 93)
Even though Mary was working in these studies with a sizable sample, it
did not meet the standard for her dissertation. Mary agreed that there
was a possibility that two of the three members of her dissertation
committee might have allowed her to use this data for her dissertation,
but the third member, Helen Woolley, was unalterably opposed. This was
the woman whose letter was cited above, asking Mary to accept a research
fellowship at the Merrill-Palmer School (Appendix F, item 50, pp. 2 and
3). Mary expressed the matter this way:
Helen Woolley was on my Committee. She had come from
Detroit-- the Merrill-Palmer Institute -- to Teachers
College, and, well, I just had the feeling she wasn't too
satisfied with what I was doing.

Helen Bradford Thompson Woolley

Dr. Woolley, the only woman faculty member on Mary's Dissertation
Committee, came to Columbia University in 1926 "to accept a desirable and
 251

honored position as Professor of Education and Director of the Institute

of Child Development of Columbia University's Teachers Co l Ieqe," (Stevens
& Gardner, 1982, vol. 1, p. 127). It was at this time that she was asked
to serve on Mary's committee.
Shortly after her arrival, however, and after joining Mary's

Committee, Woolley took a leave of absence and went on a trip to Europe.

It had become apparent that she was not able to fulfill her teaching
post, even though she inspired "feel ings of awe... in some of the

Columbia students" (Stevens & Gardner, 1982, vol. 1, p. 127). Stevens

and Gardner explain that Helen Woolley's illness was directly traceable
to "a broken heart" suffered from the break-up of her marriage two years

earlier, in 1924 (p, 127). Out of respect for her impressive past
accomplishments, and no doubt in hope that she could recover her health,
she was not asked to resign from her position at Teachers College until
1930, according to Stevens and Gardner.[66]
Helen Woolley was renowned for her feminist psychology, especially
the early work she did, helping to refute intellectual differences

between the sexes (Stevens & Gardner, vol. 1, p. 125). Later, in the

years just prior to leaving Merrill-Palmer for Columbia, she had become

"an acknowledged leader in the areas of mental testing of children and

infants and in child development research", (Stevens & Gardner, vol, 1,
p. 127).[67] She, with her colleague at Merrill-Palmer, Helen

Cleveland, had developed "the famous Merrill-Palmer Scale mental tests

for chi 1dren based upon Montessori apparatus" (p. 127).

She was asked to serve on Mary's Committee probably, in part,
because she was the Director of the newly founded Institute which had
 252

employed Mary as a research fellow, and also because she was "an
innovator of the interdiscip1 inary approach to the study of children" (p,
127). She offered balance, too, as a woman; since the other two faculty
members were men. Then, too, she was a psychologist working at Teachers
College, and could function as a 1iason between the psychology and
education departments of Columbia.
In view of Dr. Woolley's ill health and unhappy frame of mind, it is
not too surprising, albeit unfortunate, that she was unable to take a
more acquiescent position about Mary's research. There was another
psychologist on the faculty of Teachers College during this same era.
She was leta Stetter Hollingworth -- a woman whose portrait, drawn by
Stevens and Gardner (1982, vo l.L, pp. 176-186), suggests a more relaxed
and sanguine temperament than Woolley's:
One of America's most respected and beloved psychologists. A
women whom lewis Terman called "one of the outstanding
figures in American psycho1 0gy" and Poffenberger listed
"among the eminent psychologists of her time." (P. 176)
And perhaps even more germane to poss i b1e membersh i p on Mary's
dissertation committee, "unlike many of the women psychologists born
during the decade 1881-1890, leta was happily married" (P. 176). It
might be noted that her husband, a member of the psychology department of
Columbia, was Harry L Hollingworth. leta was closer to Mary's age than
was Woolley. leta was only ten years older than Mary; Woolley was a
contemporary of Washburn, and 22 years older than Mary.
Why could not leta Hollingworth have been selected to serve on
Mary's committee, rather than Helen Woolley? Perhaps because she took
her doctorate in education, rather than psychology. Perhaps because she
 253

was identified more with mental testing than child development. Or

perhaps because Woolley's own need, at that critical period in her life,
and the desire to help her recuperate, if possible, in this new position,
were paramount considerations. There may have been any number of
reasons, unguessed and unguessabl e. It was Wooll ey, not Holl ingworth,
who was chosen to serve.
Mary has asked none of the above, nor speculated about alternative
outcomes: she has said only, "I did feel that she [D~ Woolley] was not
especially friendly." And who can say what might have been? At any
rate, Mary also noted that many of the behaviors she tested in her
research "have continued to figure in developmental schedules," and that
surely makes it all worthwhile (see Appendix F, item 55, bottom of pages
1 and 2, for another worthwhile closure).
 254

Chapter V
CONSOLIDATION AND NEW DIRECTIONS

Mary held the Research Fellowship of the Laura Spelman Rockefeller

Memorial (LSRM) Foundation for two years, from 1925 to 1927. She spoke
very positively about this experience. She felt an inner sense of reward
from her work during those two years. The modest stipend she received
was a help to the young couple just beginning to rear a family. Most of
all, however, she recalled just "feeling good" about having the
Fellowship, being productive, and being a part of the staff at Teachers
College. She said, "I wasn't publishing to get ahead professionally. I
don't remember ever being concerned about getting ahead professionally. I
never expected to; I mean, I just was doing what I could."
At this same time, it should be recalled, Mary was the mother of two
young children--an infant and a toddler. There was no equivocation when
she was asked about the most satisfying aspect of her life during this
era. The answer was, liMy family - Harold, and the children."

Another Shared Living Experience: The House on West 94th

There was a young professional woman, Edith Burdick, a nurse working
towards a doctorate in psychology, whom Mary knew. Edith was also a
recipient of a LSRM fellowship. She, too, was interested in studying
young children. An older man of some means, who had been her patient and
was grateful for her excellent care, helped make it possible for her to
 255

achieve this goal by providing a place. Mary explains in Jones (1983):

A Mr. Harmon, a wealthy real estate man... felt that she
[Edith] had saved his life [and] wanted to do something for
he~... So Harmon bought a house and we lived there, Harold
and I and both the girls, and Edith Burdick... set up as a
foster home, where babies... waiting to go back to their
parents or... up for adoption were cared for. (p.58)
The Jones fam; ly was there for a year, and, continued Mary, "that's when
we were offered the job out here" [i.e., Berkeley].
There were not many children in this house at anyone time - maybe
two or three, sometimes as many as four. They usually came through
referrals from a department of the City of New York. Edith and Mary kept
detailed records of their observations of the youngsters (Jones, 1983,
p.58). Edith Burdick stayed on in the house after the Joneses left,
continuing her studies. Mary thought Edith probably used this research
for her dissertation and perhaps published her findings at a later date
(see Appendix F, item 56).

An Opportunity
While living in the big house on the West Side, Harold Jones
continued teaching at Columbia, and was also writing a treatise on
experimental methods in college teaching (Jones, 1983, p.59). He spent
more time in his office and the classroom on the campus than he did in
the house on 94th Street, according to Mary. Nevertheless, when he was
at home he certainly must have felt the impact of the child development
movement.
Concurrently, larry Frank, through the lSRM, was laying the
foundation for the growth of developmental psychology as a branch of the
behavioral sciences. This discipline flourishes in the 1980s, in
 256

research institutions attached to prestigious universities across the

country. In the beginning, however, the Foundation's emphasis was on
studying the child and educating its parents so that a new and better
society could evolve through applying improved child rearing practices.
Elizabeth Lomax (1977) states:
After World War I, knowledge about children was largely
unavailable, although enthusiasm for their welfare abounded.
Through them, a new society was to be born, dedicated to
peaceful and constructive ends. This goal was principally to
be achieved through "progressive" education and by
encouraging whol esome patterns of chi 1dcare to ensure the
development of healthy adult personalities. (p.284)
There was a tacit assumption, at first, that the theories had only to be
imparted to parents and good practices would follow. A number of child
study professionals, educators and psychologists, knew better, and they
began voicing their concerns to Larry Frank. No one was more persuasive
than Robert S. Woodworth in behalf of the need for basic research in
child development. As Senn (1975) puts it:
Through his insistence on the importance of research in child
development as a member of the National Research Council
(NRC), Robert S. Woodworth, Professor of Psychology at
Columbia, was probably second only to Lawrence Frank in
contributing to the unification of the field and in helping
it to become a respected division of psychology. (p.25)
Senn continues documenting Woodworth's contribution to the promotion of
the new discipline by pointing out that it was during Woodworth's
chairmanship of the Division of Anthropology and Psychology of NRC that
"the old child welfare committee of the division was superceded by the
Committe of Child Development in 1925" (p.25). It was this committee,

according to Senn, that channeled funds from the LSRM for fellowships to
attract young people into the study of child growth and development
 257

(p.25).
Quoting from others Senn provides some personal testimony to the
importance of Woodworth's influence on child development as a
psychological discipl ine. He cites George Stoddard's remark that lithe
founding of the Society for Research in Child Development...was pretty
largely the brainchild of Professor Robert Woodworth, a wonderful
psychologist and a wonderful personal ity" (p.25). Stoddard continues:
Everybody loved him, and when he came out for this movement,
which was not common among psychologists (many of them more
or less raised their eyebrows at anybody being interested in
persons or in chi 1dren)...and accepted the fi rst pres i dency
of this society, it gave the movement a great boost. (pp.25-
26)•
Finally, Senn quotes John E. Anderson as saying that because Woodworth
contributed so much to this movement, Anderson thought of Woodworth as
lithe strong silent man of our history, a man famous enough outside our
field, who was for us over many years a real father figure." Certainly,
the Jonesei would have concurred with that statement. In fact Senn
(Jones &Senn, 1968) quotes Mary, in another place:
Now he [Woodworth] had not contributed specifically in this
field [Child Development] in writing, but he was a force in
getting... [it] recognized by the Social Science Research
Council and the National Research Council, and I've always
felt that his interest was influential, both upon Harold
(Jones) and upon me. (PP. 1-2)
With Mary's work in the field, and with Harold as her helpmate, and with
Woodworth's commitment to this new direction, it is small wonder that
Harold might begin to shift his primary interest from experimental to
developmental psychology. Although at this time Harold was still
teaching in the experimental field, it has been noted that he was working
on a paper that focuses on experimental methods as applied to college
 258

teaching, an educational perspective; portending, perhaps, a shift in his

interest from experimental psychology per se, toward a more peop1e-

oriented perspective. Strong influences in that direction, from both the

professional and the personal sides, were being brought to bear upon

Harold Jones during these early years of his professional career.

In any case, IIBy 1926,11 according to Lomax (1977), lithe Memorial was
supporting child study at Yale, Iowa, Minnesota, Columbia and Toronto"

(p.285). Lomax goes on to say that Jean Walker (later, Macfarlane), a

psychologist at Berkeley, began "pat tent ly prodding Frank to start some
kind of laboratory nursery school in San Francisco or Berkeley" (p.285).

Years later Jean Macfarlane is quoted by Lomax as saying, about Larry

Frank, IIHe got us all to work like fool s" (p.285).

Larry Frank met Harold Jones through Mary in 1923 at the time she

was appointed an Associate in Psychological Research with Teachers

College. Frank knew Mary and Harold for at least three years by 1926,

and Larry was not slow to recognize ability and competence. As Frank

firmed up the plan to found an institute in child development on the west

coast, and worked out a contract with the University of Cal ifornia at
Berkeley, he looked to Harold Jones as a promising young academician with

the kind of credentials needed to direct such a research institute.

Beyond these professional qual ifications, there were others, more
personal, that may have recommended Harold to Frank. These are well

enunciated in Haro'ld's Obituary (Sanford et al., 1960):

Creat i vi ty, and jUdgment of what was i mportant, ... hi s
persistence, careful p1annin,9, and devotion to his
purpose; ... a spec i a 1 courage... raj capacity to make friends
with people in all walks of life and to win loyalty of
students and associates. (p.598)
 259

Whatever combination of traits and temperament, acquired or innate,

recommended Harol d to Larry Frank, Frank recommended Harol d Jones to

President William Wallace Campbell of the University of California to be
the first Director of the New Institute of Child Welfare.[68]

Mary and Harold were excited over the prospect of moving to

California, and gratified that Harold had been chosen for such a

position. President Campbell called upon Harold and Mary in their home

and personally offered Harold the Directorship of the Institute.

Encouraged to accept by Dr. Woodworth, Harold did, after asking IIWill
there be a job for Mary?1I and being assured that there would be.[69]

Mary reflects that IIthere werenlt very many men in this field. If

Woodworth thought this was the thing to do, 1 1m sure it influenced

Harold. Of course, the heads of all these institutions were men II (Jones,

1983, p.65).[70]

An Interim Phase

Dr. Harold E. Jones did become the Director of the Institute at

Berkeley, but not until 1935 (Sanford et eI., 1960, p.595). Just how it

came about that Harold became the Director of Research first rather than

the first Director of the Institute, is somewhat opaque. Mary said that

there was "somebody out there" in California who said that "Harold was

too young and he wasn't a Cal ifornian, and shouldn't be the director."
Mary saw a letter once that clarified the matter for her. In any case,

by the time this transpired, Harold and Mary felt committed to move. As

Mary put it, IICalifornia seemed great to us -- and to our friends, toO!1I
 260

Across the Continent

And so the Jones family began the trek across the continent in the
summer of 1927. The four of them said goodbye to Harold's parents in
Connecticut and to Mary's in Johnstown. There is no doubt that the older
generation was less enthusiastic about the western migration than the
younger. But after all, everyone understood that Harold had been offered
an exciting career opportunity, and, in any case, Mary was not the first
of the Covers to head west. Mary's sister, Louise, after earning her
Masters in Botany at Columbia University, had taken a job in the State of
Washington. In the meantime, John Higson Cover had moved with his
family to Denver, Colorado, where Dr. Cover began teaching at the
University of Denver (see Appendix F, item 56, especially p.2, column 2).
By the time Mary and Harold, with their two young daughters, packed
up and boarded the train en route to San Francisco, Mary's sister was
also in Denver, but under less happy circumstances. Louise had succumbed
to tuberculosis while working in a greenhouse at the University in
Seattle (Jones, 1983, p.26). Her father, Mr. Cover, was paying for her
to have the best medical care available. She was being treated in a
sanitarium in Denver, where the c1 imate was col d and dry, conditions
thought to be therapeutic for TB in that era. Fortunately for Louise,
her brother, John, was living there. His moral support as well as his
good jUdgment in overseeing her care was available to her. Mary thinks
John's being in Denver probably influenced her father and Louise's
decision in selecting that particular sanitarium.
Before Mary left New York she had been treated for a bladder
infection. It flared up again, while she was traveling, and became quite
 261

distressful by the time the train arrived in Denver. The Joneses had
planned to stop over to visit John and to see Louise. While staying with
John, Mary consulted a physician. He wanted to perform surgery for the
infection, but when Mary and Harold spoke to her doctor in New York via
long distance telephone, he said, "Don't!" In a short time the infection
subsided, the Joneses resumed their westward journey, and Mary never had
the surgery.
Before leaving New York Mary spoke to her children's pediatrician
about his thoughts regarding such a change of environment for the little
girls. He thought California sounded like an excellent move for them.
The train trip supported his conviction. Barbara and Lesley loved it!
They especially enjoyed sleeping in the upper berth of their pullman
car, with Mother and Dad in the berth below. In spite of John's
suggestion that Barbara might be feeling some strain from the trip - he
found her behavior "a little negative" - the children's overwhelming
response was a positive one.

Northside, Southside and ~ Home in the Hills

It took a while for the Jones family to find their niche in
Berkeley. Dr. Edna Bailey, to whom Mary had written about job prospects
in Berkeley, lived in a house on Spruce Street, on the north side of the
campus (see Note 69 and Appendix F, item 57). She shared the house with
her two daughters and a close friend, Anita Layton. Both of these women
taught in the field of Education: Edna at Berkeley; Anita at San Jose
College. Since Edna, Anita, and the two children were planning to be
away for the summer, Edna offered the house to the Joneses for that
 262

period. This gave Mary and Harold a place to stay for their first month
or so in Berkeley, while looking around for more permanent quarters.
After a brief sojourn on Spruce Street, Harold and Mary found a
house on Durant, on the south side of campus. There were two houses on
one property. The Jones family occupied the one in the back for less
than a year. Then they found a house on Shattuck, close to Live Oak
Park. This house was designed by Bernard Maybeck, the renowned
architect. They lived there for a couple of years.
By 1928 Mary and Harold found their lasting home, the house where
Mary 1ived for 58 years. It was an ampl e three story house buil t on a

sloping double lot. As with many Berkeley homes, the living area was on
the top floor, adjacent to the street. In the 1980s it looked like a
cottage by the side of the road as one approached it through a wooden
gate and across a brick terraced garden. From within, however, it was
spacious and gracious. The entry way opened onto the living room, which,
in turn, looked out over the treetops through a wall of windows,
yielding, in the distance, a panoramic view of the Bay, three bridges,
and the San Francisco skyline on a clear day.
There were three bedrooms and a bath, plus a maid's room with a bath
on the lower floor and an apartment beneath them. Some of the
furnishings were antiques handed down by Harold's early American
forebears. The quilts that were on Mary's bed were made by Grandmother
Higson.
There was a deck on the south side of the house, just beyond French
doors that opened off the formal dining room. Mary kept a bird feeder
there, well-supplied with wild bird seed, and the birds frequented it
 263

daily. Mary could watch them while she dined, or while she worked at her
large dining room table which sometimes served as a desk for writing
and reading. This large table was made by Harold. At other times this
table was the setting for family and friends who gathered at lunch time
or for dinner. Often it was Mary1s grandchildren and great-grandchildren
who shared the table with her. Sometimes it was friends from out-of-
town, or neighbors from the hills, or from the flats below. Sometimes,
however, Mary's company took a cup of tea with her more informally in the
living room, a pleasant place to be at anytime, but especially lovely
when the sun was about to set.
Shortly after Mary and Harold arrived in Berkeley, they were invited
by Herbert Stolz and his wife, Edgel, to visit in their home in
Kensington. The Stolzes had a daughter a bit older than Barbara. Mary
kept through the years a snapshot taken of the three little girls
together. Mary and Harold had been wondering how it would be to direct a
research program under a physician who had worked in the field of parent
education for the State of California. Harold's background was, of
course, quite different. There were some problems, largely around
allocation of funds, but none that were insurmountable. This first
meeting of the two couples with their children got everyone off to a good
start. Mary reported that Dr. Stolz "was an easy person to tal k to,"
and, on the whole, he and Harold had a cordial and cooperative
relationship. Herbert was always supportive of Mary in her work at the
Insitute, and her good relationship with him may have been helpful to
Harold in his role as Research Director with Herbert as Director.
 264

Chapter VI

THREE FAMOUS STUDIES AND HOW THEY GREW

Beginning Work at The Institute of Child Welfare

The wonderment that Mary spoke about feeling as she and Harold

approached their new venture at the newly founded Institute of Child

Welfare could be construed as a personal reflection and response to the

integration of diverse discip1 ines that were conso1 idating into a new

sc i ence. A new sc i ence, sugges ts Robert R. Sea rs (l97 5) in "Your

Ancients Revisited: A History of Child Development", was being

established:

Child development as we know it today has all the character-

istics of a science....many research practitioners, well-
equipped laboratories, the normal media for scientific
communication, and respected academic status. (p.3)

Sears continues by pointing out, however, that the discip1 ine of chi1 d

development came into existence by a different route from the more

traditional 1ife sciences. These sciences were more "self-contained and

self-stimulating in their growth" developing "within the academic

structure" and their histories are "1 arge1y intell ectual" (p.3). Chi1 d
development, on the other hand:

Was formed by external pressures broadly based on desires to

better the health, the rearing, the education, and the legal
and occupational treatment of children. (p.3)
Sears sees these pressures converging "from many social sources ll at

the end of the 19th century, as an expression of lithe deeply changing

 265

ethos of the times" (p.4). The professions of medicine and education

were primary forces in this new ethos, with "social work as a helping
profession...clearly visible" (p.4). Sears continues tracing the
emergence of child development as a separate and distinct scientific
discipline by noting that it was after the first World War, in the 1920s,
that:
Scientists from several non-professionally oriented ("pure
science") discipl ines began to join the researchers from the
child-oriented professions to create what we now view as the
scientific field of child development. (p.4)
Sears draws an analogy between this new science and engineering,
which also grew out of the Ill pure sciences'" of "physics and chemistry."
He states that, "like the engineering sciences... child development is a
product of social needs that had little to do with science qua science"
(p.4). Sears then devotes a paragraph as a warning to child development-
alists to look to their history and heed it. If they want the discipline
to continue to flourish they must continue to function as a mechanism of
del icate bal ance, mediating between theoretical and appl ied fields to
accomplish their purpose:
Child development is a reflection of the tremulous
partnership that always seems to exist when pure and applied
science, and the services of scientists, are directed toward
fulfilling social rather than purely intellectual needs.
Today's novitiates in the "science" of child development
must not complain when they feel the heat of social demands
put upon them. The field grew out of relevance. Its content
and its multidisciplinary structure are a product of the
demands for soci a1 useful ness. Furthermore, there is some
risk that it will fractionate into its component disciplines
- and disappear as an entity in the world of science - if
that relevance is not maintained. (p.4)
Just so, perhaps, Mary served as an intermediary between Harol d's more
academic and experimental approach to the field and Herbert Stolz's
 266

medical and educational point of view. Mary was pivotal professionally,

having been trained as a psychologist under Woodworth at Columbia
University and having worked as a research associate under the auspices
of Teachers College and the LSRM Foundation.
El izabeth Lomax (1977) call s attention to Mary's having a foot in
each of two worlds when she says:
Of the 38 fellows in child development funded by the LSRM for
1926-27, Mary Cover Jones was the only one with a doctoral
degree. She was awarded the degree in 1926 and had already
published four research papers, including the classic "A
Laboratory Study of Fear: The Case of Peter," describing a
study of conditioning and reconditioning made in
collaboration with John B. Watson. (p.292, ftnote 11)
In any case, Mary did feel that her good working relationship with Dr.
Stolz was helpful to all concerned as the new Institute began
functioning.

The Nursery School

Early in Dr. Senn's interview with Mary he asks about psychologists
who may have influenced her and Harold in their work with young children,
suggesting G. Stanley Hall, John Dewey or Sigmund Freud (Jones & Senn,
1968, p.s), Mary's response, in relation to Hall, is to acknowledge
indebtedness to his book as a foundation for "more modern methods of
procedure," but she continues, "we just didn't want to proceed that way
[i.e., the questionnaire approach]. We wanted to be in touch with the
actual individual." In response to Dewey's influence, she states, "We
took courses with John Dewey, but I don't think our interest was as much
in the philosophical approach to education as it was in more practical
research projects." What could be more practical or more tangible than a
 267

nursery school set up for observation and research? That is precisely

how it all began.
Mary points out that in 1927 nursery schools were still somewhat
novel. The new school was a demonstration school in the sense that
students taking education courses at the University came to observe the
children in the Nursery School; some of Edna Bailey's students were among
those observers. These students waul d write up thei r observations for
class reports. As a project of the Institute, however, the Nursery
School functioned independently of any academic department in the
University (Jones, 1983, p.63). For example, one of the Directors of
the Nursery school, who retired in the late 1970s,was Catherine
Landreth. She came there through the Department of Home Economics in
1938 (Jones, 1983, p. 74; p. 106). Supported in part by tuition, the
school drew pupils from the community at large with a preponderance
coming from the children of university faculty and staff. Lesley
Elizabeth Jones was among those first pupils. Mary, in her role as a
Research Associate of the Institute, helped select the first Director of
the new school, Pearl Crawford.
In the late 1980s this nursery school still operates off campus on
southside Berkeley. It is known as the Harold E. Jones Child Study
Center, and students of child development still observe interactions
among the pupils and teachers as they did over 60 years ago.
Dr. Herbert Stolz came to the Institute from the State Department of
Education in California. There he had been Chief of the Bureau of Child
Study and Parent Education which ran a program financed by the LSRM fund
as early as 1921. Dr. Stolz continued working on a part-time basis for
 268

the State Department of Education after taking the directorship of the

Institute (Jones, 1983, p.73; p.99). Harold Jones also had a part-time
position in addition to the directorship of Research at the Institute.
Dr. Jones taught courses in the Department of Psychology at the
University.
Mary was not allowed to teach in the Department of Psychology at
U.C. 'to avoid any question of nepotism that might have arisen. Mary's
professional work at this time and for some years to come was her job as
Research Associate in the Institute of Child Welfare (see Appendix F,
item 58). She was appointed to this position by Dr. Stolz and she worked
directly under him. One of Mary's first responsibilities was to work
"with parents who were going to be 1eaders of parents' groups" (Jones,
1983, p.63). Her work encompassed research on language development,
somewhat later, as well as other facets of development in early childhood
(see Appendix F, item 59). Mary spoke often before various groups in the
community about the Nursery School and its research projects. She also
met on a regular basis with teachers' groups (Jones, 1983, p.63; also see
Appendix F, item 60). A newspaper account from Mary's hometown paper
gives a glimpse of some of the early projects that the Institute was
undertaking in this period prior to the inception of the three studies
for which it has become renowned (see Appendix F, item 61; note last
para. ).

Launching the Longitudinal Studies

In January 1928 the first of three longitudinal studies began at the
Institute of Child Welfare. Harold E. Jones, in his capacity as Research
 269

Director, hired Jean Walker Macfarlane to supervise the Guidance Study

(GS). It was planned, according to Dorothy H. Eichorn's chapter on
Samples and Procedures in Present and Past in Middle Life (1981), lias a
six year study of a normal sample" (p.33). The sample was drawn "from a
socioeconomic survey of every third birth in Berkeley between January 1,
1928 and June 30, 1929" (p.34). The original purposes were threefold:
to find out "how prevalent and severe were behavior problems of the kind
reported for preschool children brought to therapeutic clinics," to
determine the "biological and environmental factors associated with the
presence or absence of such behaviors," and to evaluate lithe influence of
intensive discussions with parents about child-rearing practices on
children's problem behavior." At the end of the six year period, Eichorn
reports, lithe GS continued ... with the intent of examining the
interactions of psychological, social, and biological factors in
personality development" (p.33). Although there were "248 original
participants," the sample was divided into two subsamples. When each
infant reached 21 months of age s/h~ was assigned to either "a Guidance
or a Control group, each with 124 infants" (p.34).
Macfarlane was a clinical psychologist on the faculty of U.C.
Medical School in San Francisco. She also taught part-time in the
Depa rtment of Psychol ogy at Berkeley. She had a background in
developmental psychology, having worked with a chil d psychol ogist in
Boston previously (Jones, 1983, p.34). Jean Macfarlane's background lent
itself to a study "especially fruitful in the field of personality"
(p.101). In the beginning, when the infants were very young,
Macfarlane's study concentrated on interviewing the parents.
 270

Jean Walker Macfarl ane is the woman who was a friend of Lawrence
Frank, and who was influential in persuading him to initiate an institute
for child study in the Bay Area.
The second study, the Berkeley Growth Study (BGS) began "with 61
infanis born between September 15, 1928 and May 15, 1929" (Eichorn, 1981,
p.36). Harold Jones hired Nancy Bayley as a Research Associate to direct
this study. She came to Berkeley from the University of Wyoming in the
Summer of 1928 (Coe, 1987). She had been teaching psychology at Wyoming,
and had experience in mental testing. Bayley never sought an academic
appointment at U.C. Berkeley; teaching was not of interest to her (Jones,
1983, p.100). She became a recognized authority later on, when she left
the Institute to become Chief of the Division of Child Development of the
National Institute of Mental Health in Washington, D.C. She is best
known for her development of the First Year Mental Scale (often referred
to as the "Bayley Scale"). It is still widely used to assess early
development - intellectual, physical and motor.
This is the woman who met and married the Jones' young friend, John
Reid, when he followed his mentor, Harold Jones, to Cal ifornia. Reid,
who had become a philosophy professor at Stanford University, later
accepted an appointment at Johns Hopkins. Nancy then went to the NIMH
post in Washington, D.C. to be with her husband. Still later they
returned to California, and she came back to the Institute. Eventually
they retired to Carmel (Jones, 1983, p.100). Mary mentions Nancy Bayley
as the kind of developmental psychologist who combined the technical
skills of measurement and assessment with clinical skills of a high
order, an uncommon combination (Jones, 1983, p.91).
 271

The BGS was designed to trace normal intellectual, motor, and

physical development during the first year (Eichorn, 1981, p.36). It is,
however, still an ongoing part of the combined studies. When Dr. Bayley
retired, Dorothy Eichorn took her place on the staff. After Harold
Jones interviewed Dr. Eichorn, he introduced her to Mary. Mary recall s
that Harold later expressed some misgivings to her about hiring someone
who was living in Napa, quite a distance from Berkeley. He thought it
might be too far for daily commuting. Mary notes, with some amusement,
that Harol d's concern was ill-founded, since Dorothy Eichorn has been
successfully commuting between Napa and Berkeley for over 30 years. Dr.
Eichorn is the Associate Director of the Institute and has simultaneously
held the position of Executive Secretary of the Society for Research in
Child Development (SRCD). She executes multiple administrative tasks
while serving on many professional committees (Jones, 1983, p.lOl).
At an earl ier period in Dr. Eichorn's 1He, when she was pregnant,
she and her husband, a Chaplain at Napa State Mental Hospital, stayed in
Mary and Harold's home for a brief time to be closer to the
obstetrician Dorthy Eichorn was using. His practice was in Berkeley. Mr.
Eichorn formed a very favorable impression of Mary during this visit,
Dorothy Eichorn told Mary years later. Several years ago, Mr. Eichorn
suffered a coronary, and Mary wrote a get-well note to him while he was
recovering in the hospital. Since then Mr. Eichorn visited Mary often
and these two old acquaintances developed an active friendship, rewarding
to both.
 272

The Oakland Growth Study (OGS)

The third study "was undertaken in 1931 by Harold E. and Mary C.

Jones and Herbert Stolz" states Eichorn (1981, p.38). During the 1ate
1920s, as the GS and BGS progressed, it occurred to Lawrence K. Frank
and Harol d Jones that it would be at least a dozen years before these

infants would reach adolescence. Frank suggested that if Harold started

a pre-adolescent group it would forestall the necessity of waiting for
the infants in the other two groups to grow into teenagers before
beginning to study adolescent development. This study was originally
called the Adolescent Study. The name was changed to the Oakland Growth

Study in 1955 (Jack Block, 1971, p.21). The study was to include

"physical and physiological maturation" (Eichorn, 1981, p.38), but,

according to Mary, there was also a strong emphasis on peer
relationships. "The 212 original participants were recruited from the

high fifth and low sixth grades of five elementary schools in Oakland"
(p.38). Mary explained that Harold Jones first gained permission for the
study from the Superintendent of Schools in Oakland. Then Herbert Stolz

spoke to the principals of the five elementary schools, selected for the

study because they were feeder school s for the Claremont Junior High,

which, in turn, sent its students on to the University High School (see

Appendix F, item 62). Both of the latter schools cooperated with the
Department of Education at U.C. Berkeley, as laboratory schools for

research in progressive educational methods.

Once permission had been gained at the top level, Judith Chaffey,
who became the children's Counsellor, went into the homes of the students
to explain the purpose of the study to their parents and gain permission
 273

for the children to volunteer to participate in the study. Chaffey had

been a tenured French teacher at the University High School and had then
gone to St. El izabeth's Hospital in Washington, D.C. for a year to take
her M.A. in psychology to qualify as a counselor. She was hired to work
on the aGS in her new professional capacity in part because of her past
experience as a teacher in the school the children would eventually
attend.
The Joneses thought she would be an asset and so she proved to be as
time went by. The children called her "Aunt Judy" and she became not
only a counsellor, but a driving instructor as the youngsters grew older,
and a friend as they approached adulthood. Judith Chaffey was still
living in the late 1980s, although she was no longer robust. She is
remembered fondly by many of the aGS members (Jones, 1983, pp.102-103).
Mary visited Judith in the retirement residence where she was living from
time to time.
Finally, the children themselves were visited in their schools.
This was Mary's initial contribution. When she explained the study to
the youngsters, she must have done a good job. She recalled hands
shooting up allover the classrooms, as the children volunteered to join
the exciting new research project. That their enthusiasm persisted
through many years has been attested to by their willingness to continue
in the research through three adult follow-up studies, by their personal
testimonials, and by their attendance at a number of reunions, most
recently in November 1985 (see Appendix F, item 63).
Mary wrote a personal note on the Christmas letter sent by the IHD
to every remaining study member each year. She received over 40
 274

greetings in return in 1985. There were other ways that Mary kept her
re1ationships a1 ive with the members. She telephoned each on her/hi s
birthday, not only to extend good wishes but to receive any news the
member might wish to share with her. She also visited those who were ill
whenever she was able, and especially when a member was hospital ized.
These personal efforts supplemented the Institute's more formal methods
of keeping members connected with the study and one another, such as the
mailing of periodic newsletters. At the reunion November 185 one study
member took it upon himself to have a commemorative plaque made and
presented to Mary, along with special name tags imprinted with the same
message that is engraved on the plaque (see Appendix F, item 64). The
member who was responsible for this commemoration was the first in the
group to have become a father and Mary said that he recently became a
father again by his second wife. Since he is now in his sixties, he may
be the last study member to achieve fatherhood, as well as the first!

The Clubhouse
As the children grew into adolescence and began attending the junior
high school the researchers real ized that they would need to devise a
method to continue observing the study members and their interactions
with one another in the larger more dispersed setting of the new school.
They decided to open a Clubhouse. The Institute rented a house next door
to the junior high and turned it into a place to meet and socialize.
This was the era of the depression and "in addition to the university
staff, the Federal Works Progress Administration furnished personnel to
sponsor athletics, dramatic productions, and art lessons" (Jones, 1983,
 275

p.86) •

Mary explained that the Clubhouse was open not only to study group

members, but to their families and their friends. They frequented it on

their 1unch periods as well as after school and on Saturdays. Dancing
was one of the favorite activities. It was the youngsters themselves who

came up with the idea of using the Clubhouse on weekends for parties.
Staff members substituted for parents as chaperones. Soon the facilities
were booked months ahead by various groups in turn for Friday and
Saturday night gatherings (Jones, 1983, p.87).

Excursions

When the group advanced to senior high school "excursions were

planned to provide situations in which unstaged behavior could be

observed" (Jones, 1983, p89). The Clubhouse had served its purpose well
in the earl ier years, but now cl iques were forming, "fostered by high

school invitational social clubs" (p.89), and as the young people's

interests widened, the Clubhouse was too circumscribed an environment.

More than 11 excursions were held, including "a boat trip around the

bay; two ice skating parties; an overnight snow trip; a roller skating

party; several three-day camping trips; a day at the Fairview Country

Club; a night on the train, and an evening around the campfire. A
graduation party was given at U.C. Men's Gym, complete with band led by

Sal Carson who now leads a well-known orchastra (Jones, 1983, p.89).
After the events, staff, including a nurse and a physical education
director, would meet to report their observations, concentrating on

behavior of individuals. These "Culture Notes", as they were called,

 276

included behavior that reflected values, such as daring stunts performed

by some of the boys, as well as dirty words sometimes used. Aspects of
emerging femininity were observed in the girls' behaviors, such as a
change from previous clowning to more reticent demeanor; or a change in
appearance, perhaps a more attractive style of coiffure or dress, or
simply a more approachable manner (Jones, 1983, p.89). Mary was among the
regular observers of these OGS activities. Although Mary did not publish
her observations of these occasions in the lives of OGS members, she
wrote them up informally, entitling the essays "Boy meets Girl" and "In
the Eyes of the Beholde~" One of her colleagues, John A. Clausen, read
her articles and plans to use some of her observations in his future
publ ications, with Mary's permission.

Primary Professional Interests in Mid-Life

Some of Mary's research contributions from this period are reflected
in the collection of studies edited by Mary Cover Jones, Nancy Bayley,
Jean Walker Macfarlane and Marjorie Pyles Honzik (1971) in The Course of
Human Development. This compilation "was undertaken at the suggestion of
the late Raymond G. Kuhlen, who conceived it 'a useful addition to the
instructional material in developmental psychology as well as a
documentation of the work which has been done on the longitudinal
studies' at the Institute of Human Development, University of California,
Berkeley" (Preface, p.v), Maris six studies included in this text are
adaptations and abridgements of longer studies published originally from
1950 through 1965. They reflect one of Maris primary interests in the
field of psychology, aspects of maturational rates. Two of the studies
 277

are categorized as motivational. These were published jointly with her

co-worker, Paul H. Mussen in 1957 and 1958. They deal wi th early and

late maturing adolescent boys and girls: how maturational timing may
i nfl uence self-concepts and i nterpersona 1 atti tudes as well as
motivations.

The next three studies fall under the rubric of social development.
The first one, published in 1950, was co-authored with Nancy Bayley and
is entitled "Physical Maturity Among Boys as Related to Behavior." Mary

explains how this collaborative effort came to pass (Jones, 1983):

Harold said, "took, Nancy·Bayley·s doing X-rays of the wrists
to get skeletal age... you'r-e observing them in school and
social situations and seeing what happens as they go through
puberty. •..you and Nancy work together on th i S.II SO the
first article on early and late maturing was Nancy·s and
mi nee (p.70)

The next study was originally publ ished in 1958. Entitled "A Study of

Social ization Patterns at the High School Level ", it is an analysis of

how high school students' status among their peers, or lack of status,

correlates with early and late physical maturation.

Finally, the third article listed under the category of social

development was published originally in 1960. This study compares the

attitudes and interests of adolescents over two decades. The samples are
drawn from the same school, but widely separated in time. The first
group was studied in 1935; the second, in 1953; before and after World

War II.

The sixth and last of Mary·s studies included in the text published

in 1971 falls under the heading of interrelationships among variables and

over time. The title is "Psychological Correlates of Somatic
 278

Development." Originally published in 1965, it is the second of two

reports on adult status of early- or late- maturing boys in the 06S
(Jones et al., p.272). According to the abstract, this second report was
published eight years after the first adult follow-up, and the members in
this report would be approximately 41 years old, well into middle-age.
This cursory citation of selected articles is meant only to
highl ight Mary's primary focus in the early and middl e years of the 06S.
To begin to grasp the quantitative aspects of her work, refer to her
Cumulative Vitae (see Appendix F, item 65, pp.5-9). A fuller listing of
her publications can be found in the holdings of the Bancroft Library at
U.C. Berkeley, under Harold E. Jones and Mary Cover Jones, Partners in
Longitudinal Studies (Jones, 1983, pp.121-134).
Mary herself said that she believed that she had been able to
produce as much work as she had for two reasons. First, from the
beginning of her adult life "back in New York as well as throughout her
life in California, Mary had more or less constant domestic help. When
the children were growing up this included help with the cooking as well
as general housekeeping chores and some childcare. Sometimes Mary's
household helpers were women who brought their own children with them to
her home during their working hours. Second, Mary said that her
daughters have noted that she and Harold did not appear to them to be as
"social" as many parents in their peer group. Mary believed that her
daughters meant that she and Harold did not do a great deal of
entertaining in their home, nor spend many hours socializing outside of
their home. Mary tended to agree with this assessment. Later, however,
Barbara said that her parents did a lot of entertaining, although perhaps
 279

not the kind that they might have called parties. They had people in for
dinner or tea or picnics in the garden or in the country. Barbara
thought maybe her mother was recalling her teenage daughters' conceptions
of what other teenagers' parents were doing by way of entertaining.

Intergenerational Studies
As time went by and attrition took its toll of each of the three
study samples, the researchers devised a means for merging the remaining
members of the three studies into one large sample. This was
accomplished in a two-step operation. First, "a common means for
describing personality characteristics at different ages that could be
derived from the diverse sorts of data collected earl ier in the three
studies" was found in Q-sort assessments (Eichorn, 1981, p.41). Jack
Block (1961, The Q-sort method in personality assessment and psychiatric
research) had prepared the way for the IHD's later use of this
methodology. Having performed thi s operation, a follow-up study was
planned "in which identical new data from merged samples could be related
to archival data" (p.42). This plan, in the form of a proposal, was
entitled "Intergenerational Studies of Development and Aging" (IGS
1)( p, 42).
Prior to the merging of the samples, adult follow-up studies were
completed on the three samples independently. Mary recalled that the
first OGS adult follow-up, called Adult 1, occurred when the members were
in their mid-thirties in 1958. Adult 2 follow-up was completed in 1964,
when the members were in their early forties. After this second follow-
up, and before Adult 3 when the members were approximately 60 years old,
 280

Jack Block (1971) conducted his analysis of the data. He publ ished his
findings in Lives Through Time. For a detailed explanation of the data
collection program as well as an overview of the three studies, see Jean
Walker Macfarlane (Jones et al.,1971), the first two chapters in this
text.
By the time that the three independent studies were collapsed into
the IGS, the Institute of Child Welfare had been renamed the Institute of
Human Development. This occurred in 1958, close to the time when the
Adolescent Study became the Oakland Growth Study (Sanford et el., 1960.
p. 598). Dr. Harold E. Jones was responsible for renaming the Institute,
to keep the name representative of the population continuing to be
studied.
Adult 3 study, the first one to be completed under the new IGS
proposal, was conducted in 1980. Eichorn, Clausen, Haan, Honzik, and
Mussen (1981) published the.findings in Present and Past in Middle Life.
For an excellent review of this text, with succinct summaries of the
histories of the three studies as well as of the findings throughout the
various chapters, see R. R. Sears and P. S. Sears (1982), Lives .i.!l
Berkeley. The Sears' note, in their opening paragraph, that "from that
first generation of researchers only Mary Cover Jones has contributed to
this volume; the rest of the editors and authors are second generation"
(o. 925). The review ends with this tribute:
Most edited books are no more than a one-time issue of a
nonrefereed journal. This volume is quite the opposite. It
is a coherent report of more than a dozen aspects of a single
body of data. The writing is stylistically consistent, the
findings in one chapter are related to those in others, the
same measures of personal ity, motivation, and intell igence
are used repeatedly for significantly different purposes, and
 281

the findings themselves are incredibly rich. In fine, it is

probably the most important unified research contribution to
adult social and personality psychology of the last three
decades. (p.927)
This high praise is impressive in any case. It becomes more so when it
is viewed from the perspective of Milton J. Senn's assessment of the
importance of the several child study institutes across the Continent.
Speaking before the audience assembled at the bienniel meeting of the
Society for Research in Child Development, held in Philadelphia in March
1973, Senn ended his address by saying:
The several child study institutes are the foci in America
for providing sustained support of training programs for
persons in child development and the resources needed to do
good research.
Senn was listing many of the names all ready familiar in the present
paper and documenting some of the major contributions they have made
through the years to the child development movement. Then he pointed out
the important contribution that lawrence K. Frank made through his work
in establishing the Institutes in the 1920s and 1930s, with the help of
the lSRM funding.
Senn (l973) does not mention the financial crisis during the
Depression, but lomax (1977) does, a few years later, in her article
about the lSRM and its contributions to child development research.
Speaking about the Institute at Berkeley, she states:
In 1933, because of the depression, the state legislature
proposed a two-million dollar cut in the University of
Cal ifornia's bUdget, which would lead to the termination of
several academic programs. The Institute was a recent
addition and was vulnerabl e for that reason... • Fortunately,
President Sproul was unequivocally in favor of the child-
research program... The Rockefeller trustees ... finally
provided survival funds, evidence of the high esteem in which
the Berkeley studies were held. (p.286)
 282

In a footnote, Lomax explains that the "Institutes were set up on a cost-

sharing basis, the Spelman trustees providing research funds while the
universities were responsible for building and maintenance costs"
(p.292). She adds that the trustees had expected that by 1934 the
University would have been able to fund the entire program. Because the
Berkeley Institute "had given more attention to the question of
cumulative growth studies than any other of the child research centers",
says Lomax, quoting Frank, he was especially zealous in trying to help
the Institute survive this early financial crisis.
In any case, survive it has, and Harold E. Jones is also quoted by
Lomax in explaining how the Institute managed to remain loyal to its own
convictions and keep fiscally afloat:
The original mandate had not required a longitudinal
approach, but by the early thirties the Berkeley
investigators had determined to continue studying some of
their original sample groups of infants and children for as
long as possib1e... while waiting for an accumulation of
growth data sufficient to provide useful information they
published findings from numerous cross-sectional statistical
studies, in part to satisfy current academic requirements.
(p.286)
And now, with this most recent publication (Eichorn et al., 1981), surely
the value of this early strategy has proven itself.

Latest Professional Interest

Mary's chapter in this latest book reflects another of her primary
interests and is entitled "Midlife Drinking Patterns: Correlates and
Antecedents."
, This interest developed later in Maris life, after her
retirement in 1960. More will be said below about how the interest
emerged. It is appropriate to point out here, however, that Mary
 283

continued an active career in developmental psychology at the research

level some 20 years beyond her official retirement.
The editors of this most recent compilation of studies which
includes Mary's chapter are not merely colleagues of many years; some
have grown, through the years, to be included among Mary's closest
friends (see Appendix F, item 66~

.!:!Q. on Shasta Road

Through the years Mary was asked by different interviewers how she
felt about her life as a wife and mother juxtaposed to her life as a
professional woman. The answer takes a somewhat different form
depending upon the variations in how the question is framed, but the
essential message remains constant:
I was a mother. And I was doing work when I had the time; I
wasn't feeling professional. I thought of myself as a mother
and a wife, and if there was time left over to do a job, that
was fine.
In her Oral History Mary says, in response to a query about her work as
an observer in the 065., III feel like I couldn't have had a better life
[l augh] in regard to my Job" (Jones, 1983, p.82). Then, in response to a

question about the most satisfying aspect of her life, she adds:
My family came first, but the job certainly has been
very important. I never thought too much about having a
career, it just kind of happened, and it's been just
wonderful. The same about annuity, it's wonderful to have.
I mean when I was working I didn't think this was going to
add up to money in my old age, but it has. (p.83)
When Milton Senn (1968) asks Mary about her professional life, she has
this to say:
 284

I wasn't very ambitious, I was more interested in being a

mother than I was in being a professional woman, and I never
had to ask for jobs. There were always jobs available.to the
extent that I wanted to be useful. (p.21)

Mary recalled that when she was in high school (or it might have

been during her undergraduate days at Vassar), she had a tal k with her

mother about plans for an advanced education. Her mother asked Mary if

she were sure she wanted to work as hard as necessary to prepare for and

then to have a career. Years later Deana Logan (1980), in her

biographical essay, "Mary Cover Jones: Feminine as asset," alludes to

this incident when she says, "Her resolution to be a professional and a

mother violated her own mother's values" (p.111). Logan also notes:

At" the top of her [i.e., Mary's] list of priorities... was

her relationship to Harold. Even now (1980), 19 years after
his death, she can say, "He's still very much a part of my
life. 1I She consistently mentions him first, when asked to
rank her greatest satisfactions, her most supportive
relationships, or her deepest friendships over the years...
Her choice of motherhood no doubt also affected the magnitude
of her professional contribution.... Although she was
employed throughout her career, she never worked full-time
while her daughters were at home. (p.111)

In exploring the question of motivation in Jones (1983, p.62) the

interviewer alludes to Deana Logan's essay in which Logan (l980) states

(quoting from Jones, 1975, p.185):

Mary contends that her life, like Edward Thorndike's, has

been more a response to "outer pressures or opportunities
rather than to inner needs," (p.62)
Riess asks Mary for clarification, and Mary responds by saying that in

both her own and in Harold's life, lithe motivation was inner but the

direction it took depended upon outer circumstances. 1I she continues:

 285

I wouldn't have kept on as long as I did, if there hadn't

been something inside. I think this was due to my father and
brother - my father who was very pleased with anything I
accomplished, and my brother who set an example. Yes, there
was motivation there, certainly. (Jones, 1983, p.62)
Riess then asserts that lilt sounds 1ike...you're talking about other
people's expectations." Mary responds, "Yes. Well, you want to meet
other peonle's expectations. Sure there's a good feel ing about getting
somewhere and accompl ishing something" (p.62).
At this point Mary recalls a question Senn (1968, p.5) asked her
about whether or not she mi ght have worked more with Watson, had she
stayed in New York, and perhaps have gone into the field of behavior
therapy. She tells Riess that she answered Senn affirmatively then, but
that "Now, as I think of it, I'm not sure I would have. I don't think I
wou1 d have been suited to that" (Jones, 1983, p.62).

Child Rearing: Theory and Practice

Another question interviewers frequently asked Mary related to how
she and Harold applied psychological theories of child development to
their own child rearing practices in their family. Sometimes the
question was posed in a way that contrasts Watsonian and Freudian views.
Before looking at Mary's responses it may be helpful to glance at
E1 izabeth M. R. Lomax's (1978) Science and Patterns of Child Care. The
author devotes two chapters to out1 ining Freud's and Watson's positions
on child rearing practices in this country in the first half of the 20th
century. She points out that Freud and Watson share a basic belief in
determinism, each of them stressing the importance of early childhood
experiences in shaping adult behavior in later years. This leads to
 286

their both emphasizing the importance of the early mother-child

relationship. When one looks at the specifics of this relationship,
however, a wide divergence emerges between the two experts' points of
view.
Lomax explores these differences. In reference to psychoanalysts,
Lomax states that although their precise theories may vary, they:
A11 stressed the importance of breast-feedi ng, prompt
attention to the infants needs, gradual weaning, and toilet
training at the child's own pace to ensure emotional
stability. Such requirements seemed so obvious and so
natural that they were accepted without demur. (p.96)
This was not happening, however, until lithe 1940s and the early 1950s".
Although Freud and Watson were contemporaries, Freud was writing in
German in Vienna (later, in England), and his analytic followers in the
United States were not too numerous prior to the beginning of World War
II.
In the meantime John Watson was writing in English in the United
States in the 1920s. Furthermore, much that he wrote reached the
average 1iterate American parent through popul ar oubl ications after he
left academia in 1920. There was another important reason for Watson's
popularity with his audience. Unlike Freud, who aroused anxieties but
did not allay them with easy answers, Watson gave concrete rules of
behavior for mothers to follow, such as:
Reward the behavior that you want your child to maintain and
punish him for the behavior that you do not want him to
maintain; apply that principle consistently for 10 years and
you will have produced your "dream chi1d". (Lomax, 1978,
p.109)
 287

As Lomax says, "Behaviorism was and continues to be more in accord with

America's preference for pragmatism and simplicity" than Freudianism
(p.109). Watson, after all, was endemic: by birth, language and
temperament.
Watson was not opposing Freud when he insisted upon the primacy of
behavio~ It was, rather, the "tradition in the academy of experimental
psychologists that had led to subjective introspection and a foundering
of the new science of psychology" that Watson was attacking (p.110).
Later on, as Freudian psychoanalytic theories began to be popularized by
clinicians in this country, the concept of the dynamic unconscious
replaced Watson's original target of "subjective introspection." Lomax
suggests that Watson was not interested in child rearing practices as
such, but that in his zeal to demol ish the old "s ubjective
introspection," repercussions were felt in both education and child
rearing.
Outlining some of Watson's precepts for child rearing practices,
Lomax mentions that liThe mother was not to hug, fondle, or kiss her
infant" and that "Parents must be objective and detached, leaving the
child to discover the world for himself, insofar as this was consistent
with safety. He must be told about sex in a matter-of-fact manner and in
a language he could understand" (p.124).
Between the rules and regulations proposed by Watson, and the "many
hazards associated with each stage of psychosexual development" (p.124)
propounded by Freudians, Lomax suggests:
The clearest concept to emerge during the 1920s and 1930s was
that child rearing was not a simple or natural process, but
one that should follow scientific principles. (p.140)
 288

Accordingly, psychologists who defined themselves as development-

alists were not clearly in either of these two camps. They were, states
Lomax:
In the main... atheoretical; they felt that no other course
was justifiable until the norms of human physical and mental
growth had been more carefully mapped out. Much was known
about the life history of the rat, very little about that of
the human being. Consequently, all existing theories of
development... seemed premature. (p.128)
It was while the longitudinal studies were just getting underway
that Mary was rearing her youngsters. Data had not yet been gathered,
much less analyzed. How, then, did Mary approach this thorny question of
child rearing?
As early as 1927, as reported in the Johnstown Tribune (refer to
Appendix F, item 55, p.2, column 1), Mary and Harold are referred to as
"specialists in child research" who do not concur in lithe theory that
babies should be sternly ignored when they cry." The article also notes
that among the children to be studied are lithe two infants of Dr. and
Mrs. Jones," Since the New York Times published this article, Mary had a
number of occasions to clarify, modify, elaborate and/or change her
views. In Dr. Senn's (1968) Oral History, Mary answers his questions
about Freud's influence upon her early ideas about child development in
thi s manner:
Freud we didn't know personally and had no contacts with him.
He influenced Watson both positively and negatively, and
perhaps through this we were first influenced. I think maybe
we were not as aware of the tremendous influence that Freud
was going to have as some other people were, and as other
people have been more recently. Perhaps this was one of our
blind spots. ...1 would say that we were behaviorists. (p.4)
 289

Having taken the label, however, Mary continues with this modifying
statement:
I can remember that I tried not to be too influenced by
theory and fashions in raising my own children, and some
people have been surprised at this.... 1 have always tried to
steer clear of too much association with the school of
behaviorism and to raise my children more naturally, I would
say. (p.5)
Nevitt Sanford, in his introduction to the Bancroft Oral History
has this to say about Mary's theoretical orientation:
Mary...originally trained in the theory and methodology of
behaviorism and during most of her career worked in accord
with the tenets of this school of thought. One of the
enemies of behaviorism was, and is, psychoanalysis, and it is
my ont nion that Mary, and her husband, Harol d, made 1ittl e
use of this body of theory and concepts. Yet they were
always willing to listen to what I had to say on this
subject. They gave the impression that they were eager to
learn about it. I think they were eager to learn, period.
(Jones, 1983, p, iii)
In line with Sanford1s opinion, Mary states that she and Harold were
"not anti-Freudian by any means," and to substantiate this she recalls
that the two of them underwent didactic analysis for perhaps as long as
six weeks on two different occasions, over two summers: IIWe lay on a
couch and told our dreams, and tal ked" (p.44). She adds that Harold and
she talked to each other lI a good deal about how we should handle our
cnt ldren" (Jones, 1983, p.44). Furthermore, Mary and Harold were part of
a Freudian reading group; this group included the Edward Tolmans and Don
and Jean Macfarlane. These couples got together regularly lI and read
Fr-eud" (p.43).
Mary continues by stating that the interdisciplinary approach that
both Harold Jones and she believed in was being implemented at the
Institute by bringing in psychologists from diverse theoretical
 290

orientations, and the dynamic approach was well-represented by such

people as Erik Erikson, Else Frankel-Brunswik, and Nevitt Sanford (Jones,
1983, p.44). Mary adds, III think that our Institute probably had more
vari ed personnel than other i nst i tutes. We had physiologists,
physicians, psychologists, sociologists, social workersII (p.44). She
suggests that this was "pret ty largely due to Harold's influence.... It
was under his directorship that many people from other disciplines came
f n" (p.44). Harold Jones assumed the Directorship in 1935, and by this
time refugees with analytical training were beginning to arrive in the
United States from war-threatened Europe.
Mary has quite a bit to say about Watson and Freud in her Oral
History (Jones, 1983). Some of it is reminiscent of the Lomax quotations
above. She suggests that Watson and Freud are thought of as
representative of a theoretical antithesis, but:
Actually, they both believed that childhood is the very
formative period, that parental influence was extremely
important. ...Watson thought the answer was for parents to
keep their hands off and not have children become too at-
tached or dependent upon their parents.... Freud thought
children should be associated with their parents much more•
••• Watson thought they shouldn't be sUbjected to too much
parental influence... lt was partly Freud's influence that
parents got the notion that they needed to spend more time
with their children and were responsible for their parent-
chi 1d rel ationships. (p.44-45)
How, then, does Mary sort it all out, in relation to her parenting
of her own children? Looking back over the years, Mary said:
I never wanted to follow Watson's advice to parents. We were
thrilled by his theoretical point of view in psychology,
contrasted with what we'd had from Tischner and other
1aboratory psycho 1ogi sts. He had a chapter in his book on
personality, and there were few psychology text books at that
time, if any, that had a chapter on personal ity...but when it
came to his advice to parents, we weren't with him. (p.50)
 291

When Mary and Harold settled down in Berkeley and began to think and talk

about how to bring up thei r two 1ittl e girl s, they knew that they had

never subscribed to Watson's severity and rigidity. They always picked

their children up when they cried. Their behavior was dictated by

temperament as well as by design. Neither Mary nor Harold were very

demonstrative. They did not lavish the children with "a great deal of
affection; we weren't always hugging our kids," but "Lesley told me,"
says Mary, "that she always knew her parents loved her."

In talking about her natural reserve, Mary was reminded of a recent

instance in which she was able to overcome her reticence in deference to

another's need. This was not a child, but an adult member of the OGS who

was seriously ill. Mary was visiting him in the hospital. She said, "I

finally put my arms around him. It isn't something that is easy for me

to do, but in thi s case I thought it was necessary."

Two Little Sisters Growing Older

As the two youngsters, Barbara and Lesley, began to develop into

toddlers, it became quite apparent that they were temperamentally

different. Mary bel ieved thi s difference was a "qtven," and not a result
of any difference in the way she treated them in their early months or

earliest years. Barbara was a placid, easy-going child; Lesley was more

active and outgoing. When the young family moved to Shasta Road, Barbara

was in elementary school, while Lesley was still in Nursery School at the

Institute. Barbara attended Hillside School about a mile or so down the

winding road. It was easy to drop her off on the way to the Institute

Nursery School. The Nursery School and the Institute were located at
 292

that time in a large old Berkeley house on Bancroft Way. Dropping

Barbara off at school and picking her up in the afternoon was right on
Marls traffic pattern. Before very long Barbara could walk back and
forth by herself. Both girls went to Hillside throughout the elementary
school years. In the early 1980s Hillside was deserted. The Berkeley
school board closed it in 1984 because, Mary said, "They say that there
are no longer enough school children in this neighborhood to warrant
keeping it open",
In talking to Mary about these early years in her cht ldren's lives,
she said that no serious problems surfaced. Mary recalled a Mother1s Day
poem that Barbara brought her from school one year. As soon as Lesley
heard it, she spontaneously composed her own version, aloud, on the spot
for her mother (see Appendix F, item 67). According to Barbara this poem
is not complete nor is it original. Barbara remembered that her own
children brought the same poem home from school when Mother1s Day rolled
around.
Mary recalled that Lesley was one of the more lively youngsters in
her grade school class. Once, while being restrained on the playground
by a teacher Lesley broke free. The teacher had grasped Lesley by her
hands and Lesley wal ked up the teacher's legs and quickly executed a
backflip, freeing herself. One of Lesley's classmates who witnessed this
exploit on the playground, exclaimed, "0h, Lesley, you climbed up dear
Miss Watts!1I Mary said that Lesley told her this story herself and, IIS0

that was Lesley!"

 293

On another occasion during the elementary school years, Lesley must

have decided, while on the playground, that she would prefer being at
home. She simply walked there, straightaway. The details of this
incident are buried in the sands of time. While Lesley's behavior was a
bit atypical, it was decidedly not a problem.
Barbara sucked her thumb for a while when she was quite young, but
Mary was not sure what, if any, measures she may have taken to discourage
this behavior. Barbara said that she read an article in the newspaper in
the 1980s about child-rearing practices in the 1920s. It was illustrated
with a picture of aluminum mitts used to prevent thumb-sucking. Barbara
recalled that Lesley wore a pair in 1927. Barbara added, "but I don't
imagine for long!"
All in all, life was moving along smoothly. Mary said, in looking
back, "It was good." If there were any worries around thi s time, they
must have been minor; for Mary could not remember any.

Meanwhile Back in Johnstown

~=;.;..;..;.~----

According to a newspaper clipping from the Johnstown Tribune Mary

was coming home for a visit in March, 1930, and this was her first return
since she moved West in 1927. The occasion that prompted the trip was a
speech she was giving at a conference in Chicago. Mary was reporting on
her studies at the Institute of Child Welfare (see Appendix F, item 68).
This was the last time Mary saw her father. He was 75 years old.
In another month or so he became ill suddenly and died a few days later
in the hospital following surgery.[71] According to his Obituary his
death occurred on May 3, 1930. Mary's mother stayed on in Johnstown for
 294

a few years, moving into a smaller house (see Appendix F, item 3).
John Cover happened to be in Pittsburgh when his father was
hospitalized, and he was able to hasten to his Dad's bedside. Following
his father's death, John stayed on for a few days to comfort his mother
and help her through the crisis of her husband's sudden terminal illness.
Before the end of the decade just beginning with the death of his
father, John's own life underwent a big change. Sometime during this
period John and Ebba were divorced. At the end of 1938 John remarried.
His second wife, Mary Leyman Cover, is an artist of some renown (see
Appendix F, item 70, PP. 1 and 2). Several years after their marriage
they went to live in Yellow Springs, Ohio, where Mrs. Cover had many
friends and where they have stayed through the years. Mary visited with
John and his wife every week on the telephone.
Turning back now, to the clipping outlining Mary's itinerary in
early March, 1930, it mentions that Mary will visit New Canaan,
Connecticut. Harold's parents were from New Canaan. Prior to the death
of Mary's father, Harold's mother had suffered a fatal heart attack.
Harold went home at that time to be with his father and help him cope
with his loss. Mary was, no doubt, going to see her father-in-law on
this trip back East. Mary was uncertain exactly when Mr. Jones came to
live with Harold and her. He may have made his home with Florence,
Harold's older sister, in Amherst for a number of years before moving to
California. In any case, he did live with Mary, Harold and the children
in Berkeley for some time after he became a widower. Later he moved to a
very fine nursing home in Santa Barbara. It was during a visit to the
house on Shasta Road one Christmas that he suffered a stroke and died.
 295

Sometime after the death of Maris father, Mrs. Cover, who was in
her late seventies, moved to Berkeley to stay with Mary, Harold and the
girls, now young teenagers. This was around the time that Harold assumed
directorship of the Institute, an event he found very gratifying.
Mary expressed some sense of misgiving about her mother's stay with
her. This was a very busy period of Mary's life. She wished she had
taken more time out from her full schedule to spend with her mother. For
example, she could have taken her mother to see Yosemite -- a trip Mary
felt, in retrospect, that her mother woul d have appreci atsd. Instead,
Mary spent her leisure time primarily with Harold.
After a couple of years Mrs. Cover went down to Santa Barbara to be
close to Louise, who was now living on a farm, called "Oneiros ," near
Solvang. While there, Mrs. Cover lived in a friendly boarding house.
One day, while visiting Louise and helping her with the laundry, Mrs.
Cover had a stroke. Louise told Barbara that the family had no knowledge
of such an impending event. Carrie Cover lived only about 24 hours after
her stroke, according to Louise.
The doctor told Mary that her mother would not recognize her. Mary
went down to Santa Barbara anyhow, and was very glad she did. When Mary
entered the room and stood at the bedside of her mother, she opened her
eyes and said, IIOh, Mary, you're here! I didn't expect you to come. How
long can you stay?" Mary rep 1i ed, liAs long as you need me," And then
her mother closed her eyes and never spoke again (Jones, 1983, p.28).
 296

Frien dship s in the 1930s

The decad e of the thirt ies was a busy one for the Jones
es. The
three longi tudin al studi es were well- launc hed. As early as the mid-
thirt ies pub I icati ons were begin ning to appea r from
the studi es'
resea rc~ The Direc tor of the Insti tute, now H. E. Jones , pUbli shed
a
paper in 1938 outlin ing the incep tion of the three studi
es. Bay1ey's
Calif ornia First Year Mental Scale was publis hed in 1933.
M. C. Jones
pUbli shed a paper on the voca tiona l inter ests of the
OGS high schoo l
stude nts in 1938. For a detai led list categ orizi ng these early
puhl icatio ns, see the Prefa ce to Jones , et a1 (1971 ,v.).

It was not all work and no p1 ay, however. Mary's daugh ters have
made the point that their paren ts were not as "soci ally
active " as some
paren ts of the youn gster s' peers , and Mary agree d. Perha
ps a brief
quota tion from Dr. Tolman, one of the members of the
Freud ian readin g
circl e, may shed some light on this subje ct. Marx & Hillix
(1979, p.323)
quote Tolman's concl usion to his final publi shed statem ent
in which he
speak s about the "trem endou s realm s of the uncer tain and
the unknown" in
all the scien ces, but espe ciall y in psych ology , and
the impo rtanc e,
there fore, in follo wing ones own bent. Tolma n concl
udes with this
sente nce:

In the end, the only sure crite rion is to have fun. And I
have had fun. (p.152 )[72J
Certa inly the Jones es must have found a great deal of
fun in accom -
p1 ishing their tasks . Moreover, Mary's siste r, Louis e, also concu rred
with Barb ara's recol lecti ons (see above , pp, 278-2 79).
Louis e told
Barba ra in 1988, "Your paren ts were very socia l. They enter
taine d a lot,
 297

(often informally). Harold had a lot of young satellites. He was a

practical joker.... 1'
Some of the peopl e Mary worked with in the Nursery School as well as
on the OGS were not seen so much as friends in these early years, but
rather as colleagues. Everyone was following the same goal on her/his
own path. Sometimes the paths converged; usually they were tangential if
not actually separate. The relationships that Mary had with this work
group were cordial on the whole, but not actually intimate. This changes
later, but in these early years the focus was on the goals.
Mary recalled that Jean Macfarlane once told someone interViewing
her that Mary was "a more approachable person" than Harold. This could
have been a function of their respective positions in the bureaucratic
hierarchy, of course, as well as temperament per see Anyone who knew
Mary, however, would almost certainly agree that she was easy to
approach. Superficially, the approachability might appear to be an
outcome of the kind of friendl iness that small towns in America were
noted for at the turn of the century, prior to World War I. Upon closer
observation, however, Mary's temperament took on a complexity not easy to
describe. She conveyed the feeling that she was engaged with the other
person in a manner committed to the best interests of that person, as
that person would define them. There was a 1iberating quality to the
interchange that allowed the other to experience and realize dimensions
of the self not always easily accessible. Yes, Mary was quite an
approachab1e person.
 298

Deana Logan (1980), in assessing Mary's priorities for marriage and

motherhood over professional advancement, quotes Mary on the importance
of friendship in her life:
In 1940, she says, three researchers at the Institute rated
each other on nine of Murrayls needs which they had just used
with the study members. The others rated Mary highest on
"desire for social ties." "It was obvious I wanted others to
1ike me and I worked at it". (p.112)
Logan continues by quoting from Nevitt Sanford's personal communication
to her about Mary (July 26, 1978):
Sanford agrees with her own perception, though he says he
would personally have rated her highest on "nurturance."
"She has seen friendships as enormously important, as
valuable and durable," he said, "I have really appreciated
her friendship and support over the years". (p.112)
When Mary was interviewed several years later, she referred to these
remarks of Sanford, saying, "Well, if 1 1m
nurturant, I get it from my
mother" (Jones, 1983,p.1).
However that may be, Mary was, according to those who knew her well,
as well as her self-assessment, a person who placed a high priority on
friendship. On the other hand, she was not very interested in
socializing in the more conventional sense of engaging in "small talk"
and attending large parties.
Mary has mentioned one kind of gathering that she and Harold missed
when they first moved to the West Coast. In speaking about the move to
Berkeley, she noted, "We realized that being in the West has some
isolating features. We didn't go to as many meetings" (Jones, 1983,
p.66). For one reason, Berkeley in the 1930s, with a brand new
Institute of Child Welfare, could not generate immediately the kind of
stimulating milieu Mary and Harold had been participants in at Columbia
 299

University and Teachers College. Moreover t they could not hop on a

trans-continential airline bargain flight and wing it to the East every
time an interesting conference convene~ Trains were time-consuming as
well as costly in that era.
It was not longt however, before Mary and Harold were enjoying a
cozy and 1he 1y ci rc 1e of congeni a1 friends. Some of them were
colleagues - Jean Macfarlane and Nancy BayleYt as well as Edgel and
Herbert Stolz, were among this group. There were two couples not among
their colleagues that the Joneses came to know well. Mary met the wives
through the parent education groups she led. These women were leaders in
those groups: Margaret t whose husband was Ralph Ftsher-, and Josephine t
who was married to Allen Blaisdell. Mr. Blaisdell was director of the
International House in Berkeley. These two couples had children close to
the ages of Barbara and Lesley; so that the fami 1i es were congeni alas
well as the couples. The Stolzes also had a daughter "just about the age
of our children" (Jones, 1983 t p.67). Mary recalled that she often read
to the children - Rosemary Stolz, the three young Fishers, and the
Blaisdells' two youngsters, along with Mary's own girls - mid-afternoons,
after school, in her 1iving room (p.67).
There was another friend of Mary and Harol d, who was transpl anted
from New York to California.[73] He was Gilbert van Tassel Hamilton,
M.D., a psychoanalyst who had done a study of marriage before leaving New
York. The Joneses participated in this study as subjects when they were
newlyweds back in New York. Later the findings were published in a book
by an associate of Dr. Hamilton (Jones, 1983 t p.43). Sometime later Dr.
Hamilton set up his analytic practice in Santa Barbara. When Louise,
 300

Mary's sister, recovered from TB, Mary and Harol d referred her to Dr.
Hamilton as a possible secretary. Louise worked for him for a number of
years, until she had a reoccurrence of tuberculosis. This was the work
she was doing while Mrs. Cover was living in Santa Barbara.

The End of an Era

Mary was 31 years old when she came to California to begin working
with Harold, under Dr. Stolz's supervision, at the new Institute of Child
Welfare. By the time the decade of the 1930s was over, Mary was a
middle-aged matron in her early 40s whose children were 18 and 15 years
old. Harold had been the Director of the Institute for five years.
Mary's life was quite rewarding. She was enjoying her work, but her
roles as a wife and mother were still her primary commitments.
Mary has stated a number of times that one reason her life was such
a pleasant and satisfying one was Harold's loving devotion and his strong
support for her endeavors, domestic and professional. She says it
forthrightly to Dr. Senn (1968):
I think I was fortunate in being very much in love with my
husband.... 1 think I was very fortunate in never having a
moment's doubt [about whether or not Harol d was the right
person] and being completely consumed with this relationship
at the early period .... 1 also feel that this was
reciprocated; so that I had a smooth kind of 1ife. (p.26)
In addition to loving and feeling loved, Mary had a husband who
demonstrated his regard in concrete ways, by helping her with the
childre~ She recalls that he would "talk to them [the little girls] at
their level, and seemed to appreciate them at their level," even in such
mundane matters as washing their hands before dinner (Jones, 1983, p.41).
 301

Mary told Dr. Senn (1968) that she used to be asked frequently:

"How could 1 continue to be professional and how did my

husband take it?" We don't ask these questions any more, but
at that [earlier] time it was an important aspect of the
possibility that 1 could continue with my career. (p.3)

later, the old question returns, in a more subtle guise and with a

different emphasis, "Would Harold have been very disappointed do you

think, if you had just given it all up and stayed at home?" Mary's
answer: "I don't think so. But 1 think he was very pl eased that 1 was
goi ng ahead" (Jones, 1983, p.38).

Mary's testimony sounds similar to that of some professional women

of the 1980s - the lucky ones. This was not happening to Mary today,

however. It was happening in the 1920s and the 1930s and on into the

1940s and 1950s. Very few of her contemporaries could equal it. Not
very many career women in their prime today can match such testimony.
 302

Chapter VII

FAMILY LIFE FROM THE MIDDLE YEARS TO THE 1980s

The 1940s
Two Teenagers
In 1935 Mary and Harold bought a little place in the country, adding
a few acres from time to time as the children were growing up. This
provi ded a retreat for them from the busy 1 i fe in Berkeley. They
remodeled the old farm cottage which had fallen into disrepair, planted
fruit trees, and grew vegetables. Until a water system was established,
the whole family carried buckets to help get the trees established!
Harold also planted evergreens and they eventually grew into a forest.
Sometimes they invited friends to join them there on weekends and
hal idays. Twenty years 1ater Harol d topped many of the evergreens and
gave the tops away for Christmas trees.
Barbara was an enthusiastic horseback rider, and she had a horse
which she kept on the farm. Lesley was indulged in a wish to build a
little house of her own--a one room house with a porch. Harold arranged
to have the essentials done but the planning and much of the work was
done by her.
Back in Berkeley, the girl s attended University High School; the
same school that the OGS members attended just a few years earlier.
 303

While Barbara was a teenager she begame interested in religion.

Mary recalled that one day Barbara said to her, IIMother, some of my
friends go to Sunday School. How come we don't?1I To which Mary repl ied,
IIWhy, Barbara, .l.Q.!:!. can go to Sunday School if you 1 ike." Barbara's
response was, IIBut Mother, that's not the way it's done. You and Dad are
supposed to make us go to Sunday School l" Shortly after this exchange
Barbara did attend Sunday School with a friend who was a Christian
Scientist. later Barbara found her lasting church home in the
Congregational denomination.
In the meantime, over the oceans, war clouds were gathering.
Barbara graduated from high school in the Spring of 1939. That Fall she
went off to Vassar, her mother's Alma Mater. At Christmas time, however,
upon returning home for the winter intercession, Barbara came down with a
severe case of influenza. Mary left her daughter's bedside to go down
the coast to say her last goodbye to her mother.
Upon Mary's return, she, Harold and Barbara talked about Barbara's
returning to Poughkeepsie. Barbara did return and completed her Freshman
year. Vassar was very far from home. Barbara would have liked to
transfer to Pomona College in Southern California. This school, however,
did not accept Barbara because it was her Sophomore year. The concensus
that the three of them reached was that U.C. Berkeley had a lot to offer,
after all.
Not too long after entering Cal, Barbara became active in the
university chapter of the YWCA. This led to her becoming president of
the organization. There was also a chapter of the YMCA on campus, and
the president of that group at the time of Barbara's presidency in the
 304

women's group was a young man named Kenneth Coates, called "Kenny" by his
friends. Barbara and Kenny hit it off rather well when they met. They
both lived in the Berkeley hills. Kenneth's family home was nearby on
Cragmont Avenue. Kenny and his fol ks were members of the local
Congregational church and Kenny was active in the Youth Group there. It
was around this time that Barbara began attending that church.
In 1940 the Nazis invaded Belgium and the Low Countries and their
troops and panzer divisions circumvented the impregnable Maginot Line.
France fell that fateful summer. Allied soldiers evacuated the Continent
at Dunkirk, sailing to England. The blitzkrieg began battering London.
Pearl Harbor was still a year and a half off, but the United States was
becoming the arsenal of the free world. Some of our young men were
rushing to volunteer for the branch of armed services they preferred,
before they were drafted. Some young women were eying the trim uniformed
women on the WAC and WAVE amd MARINE CORPS posters and toying with the
idea of helping the service men win the war and strike a blow for
freedom. Others were bent upon completing their education first.
College conferred deferment for many young men, but Kenny was not one of
that group. He was drafted in July, 1942. It was not until the war
ended that Kenny finished his last term of college. In the meantime
Barbara decided to major in Sociology. She graduated in February, 1944.
Barbara and Kenny's friendship grew into a serious romance. They
decided to be married in March, after Barbara's graduation. At this time
Kenny was stationed at Thermal Air Force Base and they both thought he
would be there for the duration.
 305

Wedding Bells on Shasta Road

On March 15, 1944 Barbara and Kenny exchanged their vows in the
Jones' home on Shasta Road. The setting was the 1iving room, with the
Bay and the San Francisco skyline for a backdrop. The minister who
officiated was from the Congregational church of which the bride and
groom were members. As soon as they returned from their honeymoon, Ken
was shipped overseas.
Mary said that it was an easy task being mother of the bride. The
wedding was relatively informal, attended by family and close friends of
Barbara and Ken. The bride wore a traditional long white dress with
fi ngertip vei 1.

A New Generation
While Kenneth was finishing his work on his college degree, he began
thinking about changing his career goals. Previously he had thought he
would study law after college. Now he began to think about going into
the Ministry. After counselling with his own minister, he decided
definitely to become a Minister.
Kenneth was accepted as a divinity student at Union Theological
Seminary in New York City. It was then that he and Barbara moved to the
East coast. Their first child, Carol, was born there in 1947, two years
after the end of the war. Mary remembered traveling across the continent
by train to see her first grandchild and to initiate Barbara into the
rites of motherhood. She recalled that the baby arrived ahead of her
and, as she puts it, "I was late!" Kenneth worked during the summers at
churches in the East while he was still in theological school.
 306

After graduating from theological school, Rev. Coates was called to

a church in Hillsboro, Oregon. Next the Coateses served a church in El
Cerrito, California, next door to Berkeley. In 1960 they returned to
Oregon, to a suburb of Portland called Parkrose. Their next assignment
was to the English-speaking Union church in Kobe, Japan for four years.
David, their youngest, joined them there after graduating from high
school. He became proficient in the Japanese language and that became a
continuing interest for him. Finally, the Coateses returned to
California, this time to Long Beach. They remained there for eleven
years. Throughout these years Barbara was an active minister's wife,
fully supportive in the multiple facets of her husband's work.
In the mid-1980s, the Coateses sold their home. They have settled
in a retirement community in Claremont, California.
The Coateses have four children and seven grandchildren (refer to
Appendix F, item 1 for dates of birth). The two eldest are daughters;
the younger, sons. The last grandchild, Barrett, was born after Mary's
death.
Carol was married in the late '60s and she and her husband have two
daughters, Kati~ and Laura (a photograph of Laura, taken several years
ago, is in Appendix F, item 71). This family of four lives in Ashland, a
small Wisconsin town. The father, David Pauli, is a librarian. Carol
works in a children's pre-school program similar to Headstart.
The Coates' second-born, Lynne, was Valedictorian of her high school
class. She studied accounting for a while, but turned to childcare work
instead. Lynne is married to Ralph Krumdieck. Ralph is trained as a
hospital aide. The two of them operate a Day Care Center for working
 307

mothers out of their home. They live in Eugene, Oregon.

Ralph has a son, Chad, from a previous marriage. Ralph and Lynne
have two daughters of their own; so the little girls, Emily and Alice,
have an older brother in the family. In December 1987, a new little
brother was born. This was Barrett, the Coates' most recent grandchild
(referred to above).
Ji m, the Coates' 01 der son, lives in Oakl and. He attended the
University of Oregon for three and a half years. He and his wife, Katie
Allen, had two young sons, Benjamin and Julian. Mary's youngest great-
grandchild was Julian, four in 1987. His brother, Benjy, born on Leap
Year Day, celebrated his seventh birthday early in 1987. Mary enjoyed
the company of these little boys frequently. Since Jim and his family
1ived nearby, they often visited Mary on weekends and hol idays, or they
took Mary with them on family picnics and outings of various kinds.
Jim is a skilled carpenter and cabinet maker. He helped Mary with
household repairs. He also enjoyed singing in a well-known local chorus.
The younger son, and youngest of the four Coates' children, is
David, who had an even closer connection with Mary. He had a room in
Mary's home on Shasta. David was Mary's most intellectual grandchild.
He graduated from Friends World College in Kyoto, Japan, majoring in
Japanese history. Presently he works as a Japanese language adviser for
a local firm.
David is a bachelor. During Mary's convalescence from an illness,
he sometimes cooked her supper along with his own. Having David in her
home provided Mary with a sense of security as well as company.
 308

Another Romance
There was a second Berkeley marriage in Mary's family in the 1940s,
but this time the ceremony was not celebrated in the home on Shasta.
The romance began down in Solvang where louise was living. When louise
came to visit Mary and her family on Shasta Road, she stayed in their
basement apartment. Bob Hill came up from the San Joaquin valley to visit
louise in Berkeley. Before long, Bob and louise were married. The
ceremony was held in the Unitarian church, then located on Bancroft Way.
After the wedding, louise and Bob moved to a small dairy farm near
Merced that Bob had purchased. In the early 1950s the Hills heard about
a place on Highway 49, a half hour from Mariposa that was for sale. It
was a delightful seven acre farm. They told Mary and Harold about it,
and together the Hills and the Joneses decided to buy it. They called it
"Up Yonder,"
Mary and Harold spent many happy hours in this country spot. There
was a beautiful view of Mt. Miami from the little house, which Harold
especially appreciated. When Harold and Mary heard from louise and Bob
that a fire had ravaged Mt. Miami, Harold said, "I don't think I ever
want to go back there again and look at that burned-over mountain!1I
This happened not long before Harold's retirement. Mary added, "He never
did." As is discussed at greater length in a later section, Harold died
shortly after his retirement.
After Harold's death Mary, knowing how much her sister and brother-
in-law loved the place, gave her share of the property to them. Whenever
Mary visited, she returned to the house and grounds that she and Harold
once enjoyed so much. Mary noted that the Hills have made many
 309

improvements there over the years.

During the couple's pre-retirement years, while they were living on
the dairy farm, Louise wrote a column, "The Diary of a Dairy Wife" (see
Appendix F, item 72, pp. 1-3). This column was published daily for
approximately 17 years (Jones, 1983, p.26).
Louise no longer has her daily column in the Merced Sun-Star. She
does, however, occasionally publish a note in either the Mariposa Gazette
or the Sun-Star. Bob Hill, some years ago, founded the Historical
Society in Mariposa and was one of the early presidents (Jones, 1983,
p.27) •

Mary enjoyed her sister's poetic essays which Louise sometimes

enclosed in her letters to Mary. The theme is usually about nature and
the out-of-doors. Louise has another avocational interest in the arts.
She makes beautiful colorful notepaper using pressed wild flowers which
she gathers from around the countryside. Louise realizes that these
notes have commercial value; but she told her sister that she is not
interested in selling them; only in making them, and giving them to
family and friends. She also likes to sew and sometimes sent Mary
handmade aprons and nightgowns. In the light of Louise's life-long
interest in nature, it is not surprising to find that she has been active
in the local garden club (see Appendix F, item 73, pp. 1-9).
Mary said:
I call her [Louise] every Sunday morning at 8:30 on the
phone.... She seems to have a feeling that now that Harold's
gone, people can look at me: the idea that I wasn't as
important as Harold; but now that he isn't here anymore, I
can be a little more vts tb l e", (Jones, 1983, p.27)
Louise put another thought in writing in a letter to Mary, saying:
 310

Harold always expected so much of you, and you always came

through. I think that is why it is hard for you to accept
the little daily things as normal. Your challenge has to be
bi g. (p.27)
louise and Mary have both suffered quite severe hearing losses in
recent years. Sometimes, when visiting on the telephone, the sisters
used Mary's brother-in-l aw, Bob, to faci 1i tate thei r communication with
each other. This same problem arose when Mary and her brother, John,
tried to carryon a telephone visit. John's wife, Mary, sometimes helped
out in a similar way. John's hearing was not, however, as impaired as
Mary's and louise's. Mary said that neither of her parents had this
problem. They did not live into their 80s and 90s, however.

Back to Berkeley in the 1940s

At Home
Sometime towards the latter half of this decade Mary had to take
time out from her active life at work and at home to have a hysterectomy.
Mary recalled that a friend of hers, a younger woman, faced a similar
crisis a few years later. She turned to Mary for guidance and counsel,
asking Mary how she had felt about cutting short her child-bearing years.
Mary was a little surprised to realize that she had not really given it
much thought at the time. While discussing this matter and the whole
question of mid-life crises with the present interviewer, Mary suddenly
said, "Oh, I think I may have once lost a child." This incident had
occurred in the summer of 1927. Mary recalled that at that time, when
she was hospitalized in Denver for about a week to cure a bladder
infection, the doctor attending her suspected that she was also having a
miscarriage. Mary recalled the bladder infection, but the other
 311

cond ition remai ned hazy. It was as thoug h Mary· s famil y was quite
comp lete with Harold and the two little girls . It never occur red to her
to think about its being other wise.

Anoth er Wedding
lesle y was in colle ge at Stanf ord in the mid-1 940s. Not too
surpr ising ly, she major ed in Psych ology . After receiv ing her BA, she
came back to Berke ley and decid ed to take a Maste rs at
Cal. She also
decid ed to live at Inter natio nal House up on Piedm ont
Avenue. While
there lesle y met a young man, Alec Alexa nder, who was study
ing at Cal and
living at I. House, too. He was born in the Unite d State
s but had lived
abroa d for most of his life. His paren ts were of Greek
origi n and when
he was qut te young they return ed to Greece. Now Alec had
come to the
Unite d State s to comp lete his educa tion. lesle y and Alec fell in love.
They decid ed to marry after lesle y comp leted her MA and
prior to Alec· s
finish ing his docto rate in Economics.

lesle y was marri ed in lafay ette, return ing to her famil

y home on
Shast a for the recep tion. The wedding date was Febru ary
28, 1953. She,
too, had an inform al wedding with famil y and close friend
s attend ing.
Mary recal led that lesle y wore a stree t lengt h skirt and
a hat with a
little veilin g. Alec had a teach ing assis tants hip at U.C.
while he was
comp leting his Ph.D. The newlyweds lived part of the time at Mary and
Haro'ld's count ry place near lafay ette. Once Alec receiv ed his degre e,
he took a facul ty posit ion at North weste rn Unive rsity,
later moving to
teach ing at U.C. Santa Barba ra, where he remai ned.
They had two
chil dren. Jane was born on November 10, 1956 and Peter
, on June 25,
 312

1958. Jane graduated from U.C. Santa Barbara with a degree in Business
Economics, and took a job in Fort Collins, Colorado, where she could also
raise horses. Peter graduated from Colorado State, also at Fort Collins.
He majored in Mechanical Engineering and subsequently took a position
with a medical tool manufacturer near Santa Barbara.
Lesley taught school until her children were born. When they were
older, she worked in real estate and took part in some civic endeavors.
Later, when she and Alec were no longer together, she managed properties
part time. However, her main interest was in exploring the field of
ceramics.
Mary had a close relationship with both daughters. They visited
frequently on the telephone and several times throughout the year in one
another's homes. These visits occurred around major holidays, but were
not limited to such occasions. There were family reunions every year or
so which included aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins as well
as grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
 313

Chapter VIII
PROFESSIONAL LIFE IN THE MIDDLE YEARS

At the office
The 1940s was the period when the United States began to experience
a by-product of the war that has permanently and immeasureably enriched
this country. In familiar parlance it became known as the "Brain Dratn,"
As Hitler rose to power in Germany and his persecution of the Jews became
widespread within the borders of that nation, and then followed in the
wake of his invasion of neighboring European countries, refugees who were
able to escape fled to England and the United States. Scientists,
scholars, intellectuals from many disciplines (many, if not most, were
Jewi sh) sought refuge in the United States. One person, among others,
who helped in the relocation of "displaced scholars from Nazi Germany"
was Lawrence K. Frank (Senn, 1975, p.52). Mary has spoken about Haroldis
commitment to an interdiscipl inary staff. There were two names that
stand out among those who came to work at the IHD in that era. Not only
were they outstanding scholars renowned in their fields, as married
couples they became close friends of Mary and Harold, enriching their
personal 1ives as well as contributing professionally to the Institute.
These were the Eriksons and the Brunswiks. In speaking about Erik
Erikson's professional influence, Mary said:
I would say that we had always been hospitable toward the
psychoanalytic point of view, but ... we hadn't had anybody who
was straight, dynamic psychology in the sense that Erikson
was. So I think that his way of looking at parent-child
 314

relati onshi ps and perso nality... was benef icial and enriching
to us. (Jones, 1983, p.102)
Else Frenkel-Brunswik also had a psychoanalytic orien tation .
She
came to this coun try from Germany through the inter venti on
of her
husband, Egon Brunswik, who was in the psychology department at
Berkeley.
Mary said that Frenk el-Br unsw ik used the IHD data to develop
a depth
study on motivation and behavior that only she could have done.
Mary
also added, "They [the Brunswiks] were next door neighbors and
friend s
of ours" (Jones, 1983, p.103).
By this time Harold was in full- strid e as Direc tor of the
Insti tute, having succeeded Dr. Stolz in 1935. Mary continued:
Our objec tive was to contr ibute to an understanding of the
"whole" indiv idual , a biolo gical organism in
setti ng: first the infan t, then the child , a then cultu ral
adolescent, now the adult . This required an inter disci plinathe
ry
staff with diffe rent theo retic al orien tatio ns, diffe rent
techniques for colle cting and processing data, for reporting
and evaluating findings. (Jones, 1983, p. 98)
It was just such a progression that was occurring in Mary's own
work.
She began, back in the 1920s, with her studi es of infan ts. Even
at this
later period, her early work was still having an impact in the
popular
press as well as the profe ssion al journ als (for an example of the
former, see Appendix F, item 74, p.3, last two paragraphs).
By the decade of the '40s most of Mary's publi catio ns deal with
adolescence (refe r to Appendix F, item 64). An example of the
kinds of
issue s that Mary was intere sted in exploring is shown in a paper
entit led
"Studying the Char acter istics of Friends" (see Appendix F, item
75; an
Abstract of this paper appeared in the American Psychologist, 1,
1948).
 315

In addition to publishing her research, Mary was also making

contributions to the wider community in a variety of ways. She served on

a number of committees in the 1940s. Among them, the Berkeley Civilian

Defense Program Committee on Children in War Time, the Advisory Committee

of the San Francisco War Manpower Commission for Care of Children of

Working Mothers, the Advisory Committee of the Berkeley Mental Health

Association, the Advisory Committee of the Children's Bureau, Federal
Security Agency, to name a few.

She lectured extensively: at the Family Life Institute in San

Francisco on Child Development; to the Western Psychological Association

(WPA) in Detroit on IIDifferences in Adolescent Sex Roles as Revealed by

Colloquial Speech."; to the American Psychological Association in

Philadelphia, Boston and Denver; at numerous parent-teacher groups in

northern and southern Cal i forni a.

She consulted to city and county Teachers' Institutes; also, to the

Russell Sage Foundation on studies of adoption. She was a member of an

Interdisciplinary Conference on Culture and Personality at the Viking

Fund in New York.

Mary also found time to serve on the Bay Area Vassar Club Scholar-
ship Committee.

Yes, the '40s were full and fulfilling years. Just how full is hard
to imagine. For the listing above is only a sample from the resume,

which is only a partial listing of Mary's contributions. It is well that

Mary and her family had their retreat in the country at Lafayette.
 316

The 19505
Hard Choices
It was in 1949, according to Nevitt Sanford, that the Board of
Regents of the University of California first required its academic staff
to sign Loyalty Oaths prior to renewal of their contracts.[74] This is a
relatively early manifestation of a political storm that swept across the
country in the first half of the decade of the 1950s. Mary speaks about
this period in her Bancroft History (Jones, 1983). Alexander Meiklejohn
was a mentor of Harold Jones. Meiklejohn was President of Amherst
College when Harold took his BA there and Mary says:
Harold tutored his [Meiklejohn's] two sons.... [He] was some-
what in awe of Meiklejohn, but also very closely associated
with the family... Meiklejohn is a liberal, a strong civil
liberties advocate... Harold signed the Oath. Meiklejohn
would never have signed that Oath. He [Harold] used to go
walking with him [Meiklejohn] but he didn't follow his
po 1 iti ca 1 1ead. (p.42)
Mary continues by saying that there were arguments in the Jones' home
with both Tolman and Meiklejohn, and she concludes:
He [Harold] just didn't feel he wanted to object to the
extent of resigning. I would have been more willing not to
sign. In fact, I talked to Tolman about it, and Tolman
advised me to go ahead and sig~ I think partly because he
knew Harold wasn't going to resist. I don't think I would
have added anything, as far as my status was concerned, to
Tolman's group [chuckles]. (p.42)
Among those Mary remembers being at some of the meetings were the
Eriksons and Stuart Chase "who was visiting here then" (p.43). She
believes that Erikson did not sign, but recalls that he was very quiet at
the time and she could not have guessed his intentions.[75] Mary does
not mention the Nevitt Sanfords. In the lecture cited (note 74 above),
 317

Sanford, however, speaks at some length about his personal stand. He did
not sign the Oath and as a result he was fired from the Faculty at U.C.
Berkeley in 1950. Sanford makes the point, in his talk, that:
Very good people had to sign the Oaths against their
consciences...[this necessity arose] not so much for personal
reasons as a range of aspects -- social, cultural and
economic.
In fact, according to Sanford, only about a score or two throughout the
entire university system in the state ended up not signing the Oath.

Mary and the Media

It was early in the '50s that a new technique called television
burst upon the communication scene and revol utionized the media. Mary
was the first on the West coast to demonstrate its potential as an
educational tool at the college level (see Appendix F, item 76).
Prior to Mary's entry on the screen, she became a Lecturer in the
Department of Psychology at U.C. Berkeley in 1946. She held this
position until her retirement in 1960. In 1948 Mary and Harold became
responsible for a Correspondence Course in Child Psychology through the
University Extension Division. Then, in 1951, both of them became
responsible for a Correspondence Course on Adolescence.
In 1951, the University suddenly received an offer of time on a
commercial station, providing it seized the opportunity promptly. Mary
explains the response (Jones, M.C., 1955):
Hurriedly, we charted our course and marshalled our resources
to create the University's new educational medium - the tele-
course - the first of its kind offered for credit on the West
Coast. (p.1l)
 318

The show was aired beginning January 15, 1952 (see Appendix F, item 77).
In another place Mary says that Harold told her, "You can handle a
discussion much better than I," and thus it was settled that this would
be Mary's class (Jones, 1983, p.48). Mary adds, however, that Harold "of
course...was on the program quf te often" and that "actually we gave the
program together" (p.48). Mary learned that, according to Harold, she
looked "better on Hink's TV than on Sear's" (p.47), and Harold rushed out
and bought a Hink's model (see Appendix F, item 78).
The course was presented Tuesday and Thursday mornings for fifteen
minutes (see above Appendix F, item 77). Contrary to the anticipation of
some, the course was "an unqual ified success" (see Appendix F, item 79).
In this same newspaper article it is noted that the students signing up
for the. correspondence course were returning their exams "nearly... lOO
percent... which is rather unusual for correspondence courses." Mary
makes the point in the Vassar Alumnae Magazine (1955) that there were
many guests from disciplines allied to psychology and that these guest
participants enlivened the lecture, making for spirited discussions.
This format allowed Child Development to be presented in its inter-
disciplinary complexity, showing its relationship to the biological
sciences, as well as other social sciences and to the field of child
rearing practices (p.l7).
Mary also brought parents on the screen as discussion participants,
and chi 1dren as guests became 1 hi ng exemplars of some of the
developmental principles being expounded, such as the individuality of
each child's style and pace within an orderly developmental sequence
(Jones, 1955, p.18).
 319

To forestall the reader1s concluding that staging this experiment in

educational technique was just a jolly lark, Mary addresses some of the
contingencies that she had to meet and resolve to achieve the smooth and
polished product:
Certainly, we always aimed to create the impression of an
effortless performance. Actually it was hard work!
... writing scripts, answering mail, supervising readers,
consulting staff, scheduling IIguests.1I Then the rehearsal
before the "show", (1955, p.20)
These were preliminary tasks. The actual performance was difficult in
other ways:
Watching for the signals on where to look and how the time
was going, getting to the blackboard and back again, throwing
cue words to our fellow participants, "managingll the
children, watching the "mont tor" mas one's pencil followed
a chart or graph - and always the split second timing. The
traditional classroom was never like this! (p.20)
Mary hints that the expression "limp from exhaustion" is not too
extravagant to describe how she sometimes felt after the performance on
screen. Nevertheless, the show was a success and Mary must have felt a
sense of triumph when the pilot series came to a close. According to Dr.
Paul Mussen and Dr. Dorothy Eichorn, colleagues at the IHD, Mary
participated in a similar course at the University of Minnesota (see
Appendix F, item 161, para. 6~

Two years following Mary1s initial telecourse the Berkeley campus

sponsored a more ambitious television series, in "a semi-documentary
format" called "Inqutry" (see Appendix F, item 80). The press release
indicates that these programs would be half hour sequences covering the
broad spectrum of arts and sciences. Mary comments on this later
experiment in her summary statement in the Vassar article, (1955):
 320

I have participated in some rather pretentious experiments

directed by professionals with an eye to large audiences and
with a popular appeal. (p.20)
By way of explaining an earlier remark in which she makes the point that
television as a teaching medium presents special problems for educators
which the TV "professionals" can not be helpful in solving, Mary
continues:
For a series of Sunday afternoons, recently, Bay Area
viewers have seen a succession of University scholars, men
and women of dignity and distinction, made to look silly
among the trappings of an elaborately "dramatized" pro-
duction. At the same time the legitimate audio-visual re-
sources of the profession (including the impact of
individual personalities) were inadequately utilized or
(unintentionally) distorted. (p.20)
Mary ends on a more hopeful note:
Tel ecourses are not a substitute for the coll ege cl assroom
but there are many ways in which television can facilitate
teach i ng. And as an accompa ni ment to correspondence
courses, this medium, literally, opens new vistas. (p.20)
Meanwhile, Mary did not neglect more tried and true paths for
disseminating newly gained knowledge. She continued her community out-
reach in the form of lectures and seminars (see Appendix F, item 81).
One example of this more traditional approach was her work on the
Citizens' Advisory Committee on Youth Activities. Mary was asked to
chair this committee by the Berkeley Council of Social Agencies. It was
as an outgrowth of Mary's work on the youth survey in 1952 that she was
appointed to the Citizen's Advisory Committee which was formed to study
the needs of young people as revealed by the survey. Speaking at the
College Women's Club is an example of Mary's efforts to circulate new
knowledge as she helped uncover it through research findings, her own as
well as that of her coll eagues at the Institute. Mary was not only a
 321

research scientist, she was also a hands-on professional educator.

Professor Jones
By the time Mary gave this particular lecture at the College Women's
Club she was an Associate Professor of Education. In 1952, the same year
that Mary initiated the TV course, she also became an Assistant Professor
in the Department of Education. She held that position until 1955, when
she was appointed Associate Professor.
Mary explains that academic tenure comes via departments (Jones,
1983) :
In my case I was offered a position in the Education
Department only if I would take it full time. The dean
implied that he wanted to be sure my commitment was to the
Department of Education. I couldn't get a teaching position
unt i1 way into the '50s. I went ina fter Edna Ba i1 ey
retired. They offered me a job, and I didn't want full time.
They wouldn't take me until I would sign up full time. (p.75)
Mary began working as a full time Assistant Professor less than a year
prior to Lesley's marriage. By this time she had two granddaughters and
a grandson, Barbara and Ken's first three children. Their fourth child,
DaVid, would be born the following year.
Around this time, Mary recalled, there was an informal gathering
among some of the faculty interested in Child Development. It was called
the "The Lunch Group". These fol ks woul d bring their brown bag 1unches
once a week and gather at the lunch hour for informal "shop talk." On
balmy days they assembled at a pleasant spot on campus. Mary remembered
Millie Almy particularly. She was in the Education Department as well as
on the Advisory Council of the Institute (Jones, 1983, p.81). Mary
continued to see Millie Almy quite often through the years. She was a
 322

neighbor living close by in the Berkeley hills.

An Apex: 1959-1960
It was not until 1959 that Mary became a full Professor in the
Department of Education. She held this position for one academic year.
until both she and Harold retired in the Spring of 1960. By the time of
her appointment. Mary was a grandmother of six. Her last grandchild was
born in the summer of 1958. a year prior to her promotion.
Mary was qUick to point to her slow rise and short tenure as a full
Professor. but she was more reticent about her very extensive vitae. In
fact. Mary gave one the impression that she was always searching for some
worthwhile way to spend her time. almost as though she had yet to find
it. There was no resting on laurels won or foundations laid or miles
traversed. In the mid-1980s. however. there was an emerging attitude
that suggested a change. Mary said. IIMaybe live done enough. Perhaps
some of the younger people might want to pick up my data and incorporate
it into their data sources." She said this somewhat tentatively. but
also with characteristic determination. This fresh perspective might
become a harbinger of a new plateau for Mary.
Harold Jones was instrumental in changing the name of the Institute
in 1958. It then became the Institute of Human Development. In the
Spring of 1960. as Harold and Mary prepared to retire from their active
professional roles and to assume the status of Professors Emeriti. they
also prepared for a long-anticipated trip to Europe. There was an
international conference on Child Development in Europe that summer.
They planned to attend those meetings first and then have an extended six
 323

months vacation in France and Western Europe.

Harol d had a grant propos a1 in at the un ivers i ty for some
gerontological research that he hoped to do with a physiologist, Dr.
Harden Jones. They planned to use the data amassed from the OGS. There
was another trip that Harold was looking forward to even more than this
first one; that was a tour of Egypt and the Nile Valley in the land of
the pyramids. Mary and he were planning this second vacation to follow
the gerontolog'ical study. Mary said that although she was looking
forward to the trips herself, travel was not as important to her as it
was to Harold. She felt a special sense of regret, therefore, that
Harold did not live to experience these anticipated pleasures.
In the Spring of 1960 as Mary and Harold were winding up their work
at the Institute and preparing to retire one last big project at the
Institute was nearing completion. The new Child Study Center was being
readied for operatio~ located "on the south side of the campus at the
corner of Atherton and Haste," this new building would house the
Institute Nursery School, situated, until now, on Bancroft Way. Harold
Jones had chaired "the Buildings and Campus Development Sub-Committee for
the building." (see Appendix F, item 81). The opening of this new Center
was being commemorated by a conference sponsored by IHD. The program for
The Berkeley Conference reads like a "Who's Who" for Child Development,
and Harold E. Jones heads the list as General Chairman and Director,
Institute of Human Development (see p.2 of item 82). later the Center
would be named The Harold E. Jones Child Study Center, but when opened it
was simply called The Child Study Center.
 324

Chapter IX
TRANSITIONS

The 1960's
Going Abroad
Mary and Harold did not want retire ment parti es given for them
as
they were prepa ring to leave their posts at the Insti tute
and the
unive rsity. They were planning to return , as emer iti facul ty, and
reall y
did not want to celeb rate their retire ment .
Mary appre ciate d the lette r that Dr. Brow nell, the Dean of
the
School of Education, wrote to her as a farewell tribu te, and she
kept it
throu gh the years (see Appendix F, item 83, p.L), Years later
Mary
joined Dr. Brownell and another colleague in writin g an obitu ary
about a
third colleague, Dr. luthe r Calvin Gilbe rt (item 83, pp.2-3).

The City of light

The Joneses flew to Paris , their first and final stop on foreig
n
shore s. Without a doub t, Mary's fourt h night there usher ed
in the
darke st day of her 1ife. On June 7, 1960, short ly before dawn,
Harol d
Jones suffe red a fatal heart attack . Mary heard him callo ut to
her, and
she, in turn, called for help. The telephone rang, but no one answered
her call. She ran from their hotel room and cried out down the
eleva tor
shaft ; no one heard her. Mary was alone and beref t in a strange
country.
It was sever al hours befor e anyone could be found at the hotel
, and
 325

before someone from the American Embassy arrived to help her.

Lesley was staying, with her family, in the Shasta Road home while
her parents were away, and Mary telephoned her daughter as soon as
possible. With Lesley's counsel in Berkeley and the assistance of
Embassy personnel in Paris, Mary was enabled to change the joint passport
to single status and return to the United States.

Back Home Again on Shasta Road

When Mary's return flight landed in New York, her brother, John, was
at the airport to meet her and help her make connections with a San
Francisco flight. When the plane arrived in San Francisco, both Barbara
and Lesley were there, with their husbands. It was Lesley's 35th
birthday.
Mary returned to her home in Berkeley. Some days later she and her
daughters arranged a quiet memorial service for Harold at their Lafayette
farm with only family attending. Mary then buried Harold's ashes in the
orchard at Lafayette.
Beyond her personal grief, Mary recalled the regret she felt (and
continued to feel on occasion) that Harold never had a chance to live a
retired life and travel as he had expected to do. She also regretted
that Harold never fully realized his intentions of pursuing in-depth
studies in the field of gerontology. Relieved of administrative
responsibilities after retirement, Harold Jones would have been able to
devote his gifts and his energy to gerontological research.
Not only had he and Dr. Harden Jones written their grant proposal
prior to Harold's departure for Europe, but Harold's leadership was all
 326

ready recognized in th i s newest branch of the human development

discipline, that relating to aging and its developmental tasks. Harold
Geist (1981) cites Harold Jones, in the Introduction to the second
edition of The Psychological Aspects of the Aging Process with
Sociological Implications as one of the pioneers in this burgeoning
field. Noting that "the Section on Aging as part of the National
Insitute of Mental Health was organized with Birren as its head" (p.9) in
1953, Geist continues by citing the United States as the nation most
active in research in this area. He mentions Havighurst and his
colleagues in social psychological research who were on the Committee on
Human Development at the University of Chicago in those early days. Then
Geist states:
Certa i n key names a re prom i nent in the psycho 1ogi ca 1
literature. These are Harold Jones, John Anderson, Irving
Lorge, Bi rren and others. (p.9)
Mary was surely correct in her conviction that Harold would have made
many more contributions to the study of aging, had he 1ived beyond his
66th year.
Even so, he did serve as President of Maturity and Aging, Division
20, of the American Psychological Association. For a full but concise
review of Dr. Jones' career as well as a summation of his outstanding
personal strengths and his primary interests refer to the Obituary
written by three of his colleagues appended herewith (Appendix F, item
84 ).

In more recent years, Mary found that her earlier regrets were
mitigated by the realization that Harold's premature death spared him the
losses and pain that tend to accompany aging. He died at the height of
 327

his powers, having realized many goals, made many contributions, lived a
fulfilling life and given generously to others--family, friends,
colleagues, associates.

The First Years of Widowhood

Mary·s memory of the first months following Harold·s death was
somewhat blurred. She did have a housekeeper working for her two days a
week; so Mary was not alone all through the week. Somehow, she muddled
through, sustained by the loving support of her daughters and her brother
and sister, as well as the comfort, solicitude and affection of life-long
friends and colleagues. Two examples of condolence letters, drawn from a
volumi nous coll ection, illustrate the quality of these friendships. The
first is from the wife of a couple, friends of both Mary and Harold and
the second letter is from an- old college friend of Harold (Appendix F,
item 85, p. 1, and pp. 2-3). Both letters confirm the view expressed in
the obituary, but their more personal tone and informal style convey an
even fuller portrait of Harold Jones, the friend whom so many admired,
respected and loved.
After Harold Jones' retirement, a committee of the Institute of
Human Development selected a new director, John A. Clausen. Dr.
Clausen's field is sociology. He is still connected with the IHD. In
an emeritus capacity in the 1980s, Dr. Clausen is one of the editors of
Past and Present in Middle Life (1981) in which Mary's chapter, IIMidlife
Drinking Patterns: Correlates and Antecedents," appears. Mary enjoyed a
warm colleagial relationship with Dr. Clausen, developed over the years
as she continued her work with the members of the Intergenerational Study
 328

(IGS) (see Appendix F, item 86 for an update on Dr. Clausen). Mary told
Dr. Senn (1968), in response to his question about the preferred
discipline of the director of the IHD that:
I think this doesn't matter. We have had a physician, we've
had two psychologists; a sociologist. I don't think it
matters, if they are favorable toward an interdisciplinary
approach and a broad point of view. (p.14)
She adds, however, "I would like to see a physician again as Director of
our Institute. I think it is time we come back to emphasizing the
medical aspects" (p.14).
These words were spoken in the late 1960s. Mary notes in her oral
history (Jones, 1983), "When Harold died, Herbert [Stolz] said, 'I think
they should put you in as director'... which of course never happened" (P.
72). Mary adds, parenthetically, that she quoted Dr. Stolz to point out
that he had always been very supportive of her.

A New Research Task in a New Setting

Mary had not begun to cast about for alternatives to continuing her
work as an emerita volunteer at the IHD, when a new path opened to her.
In 1961 an old friend, Dr. Nevitt Sanford, who had known both Harold
and Mary since 1940, was directing a new Institute at Stanford
University. Dr. Sanford explains, in an article entitled "The Human
Problems Institute and General Education" (1965), that this new program
was funded by two research grants:
One for studying and making policy recommendations affecting
problems having to do with alcohol and alcoholism, the other
for studying how students develop as individuals as they go
through colle~e and how they might be induced to develop more
fully. (p.648)
 329

Certain that his old friend and colleague, Mary Jones, could make a
contribution to this new enterprise, Dr. Sanford was eager to engage her
services. Mary has explained (Jones, 1983) that:
Nevitt Sanford helped me through that period of simultaneous
widowhood and retirement by giving me a job at his new
Institute for the Study of Human Problems at Stanford where I
worked for five years on his study of Stanford students and
alcohol problems. Nevitt believed in and promoted
interdisciplinary research, so at Stanford once again I
benefitted by associations with a number of people, many from
other discip1 ines. (p.104)
Mary had pointed out the interdisciplinary approach at the IHO previously
in the same interview:
We... have what we think of as seven panels of data... physi-
cal, motor, physiological, mental, personality, home, school,
a variety of data as well as a long time span. (p.12)
Nevitt Sanford (1965), speaking about the interdisciplinary approach
at his new Insitute has this to say:
The staff of the Institute soon embraced at least one person
trained in each of the following fields: psychology,
sociology, anthropology, political science, social welfare,
psychiatry, education, law, literature, public heath, philo-
sophy, and biostatistics. (p.648)
In looking back from the perspective of the 1980s, Mary said, with a
little laugh, that she went to Stanford and worked on health and alcohol
problems because her old friend, Nevitt Sanford, "had money to study that
problem." It was Mary who suggested that she use the Oakland Growth
Study (OGS) members as her data base. She realized that these members
were now in their middle 40s. By interviewing a number of them in their
homes and by mailing questionnaires to those who were not close enough
for her to visit, Mary amassed enough data to support some of the
generalizations about personality antecedents and drinking problems that
 330

she later published (Jones, 1968; 1971). With her first report, on the

men interviewed from the OGS, two articles followed hers, preceded by an

Editor's note introducing them (Sanford, 1968):

Because the study by Mary Cover Jones contains unique data
concerning the possible personality origins of alcoholism,
the Editor has invited the following two discussions of her
paper by Nevitt Sanford and Edith Lisansky Gomberg. (p.13)

Sanford says, "It is Jones' work on the personality correlates of non-

problem-drinking and abstaining that really breaks new ground ll (p.15).

In the next article (Gomberg, 1968, p.5; pp.10-11) quoting
Jones'conclusion that her data support the concept that there are
patterns of personal ity that pre-date drinking patterns and that may

indicate "a pre-disposing factor" for later drinking behavior, Gomberg

then states:

We seem to be coming, in alcohol studies, a full circle back

to the position which puts psychological predisposition into
a primary place in etiology. (p.19)

That Mary's work in the early 1960s at the Institute for the Study of
Human Problems has been seminal is further validated 20 years hence by

two recent contributions to the ongoing dialogue about the etiology of

alcohol ism. The first of these articles, both of which appear in the

American Psychologist, was publ i shed in May 1982: Vai11 ant's and Eva
Milofsky's "The Etiology of Alcoholism: A Prospective Viewpoint." The

second, by Robert Zucker and Edith Gomberg, entitled "Etiology of

Alcoholism Reconsidered: The Case for a Biopsychosocial Process," was

published in July 1986. Both of these articles refer to Jones' papers of
1968 and 1971.
 331

Mary continued studying the question of alcoholism and personality

patterns, as is documented in her chapter in Eichorn et ale (1981). This
chapter (9, pp. 223-242) is an excellent summary of her contributions to
this subject.

A Contribution of Another Kind

Sanford has mentioned another contribution that Mary and a fellow-
researcher at the Institute for the Study of Human Problems made. These
two documented, by their exemplary behavior, one of Sanford's fundamental
principles of personality development: that significant changes leading
to growth and development in personality are fostered by placing an
individual in new and challenging situations. One of Sanford's (1980)
fuller accounts of this vignette appears in Learning After College:
Two more or less retired professors, a woman and a man,
joined the staff of the Institute for the Study of Human
Problems at Stanford soon after its beginning and immediately
began to take a new lease on life. Their gaiety, eagerness
to learn, and capacity to find excitement in a new venture
contrasted sharply with the grim know-it-all coolness of the
striving academics who surrounded us.
People no longer taken up with making a success in the
world have a great deal of freedom: having little to prove,
they can afford to take risks. And older people can be sure,
too, that they have some developmental deficits, which can
now be made up for. Old defensive structures, if they have
not disappeared, are at least pretty brittle. Events such as
physical changes and intimations of the approach of death
provide opportunities to find new meanings. (PP. 61-62)
Sanford identifies Mary as the woman professor to whom he refers in this
passage in the Introduction to the Bancroft Library Oral History (Jones,
1983; PP.ii-iii). This sketch is of particular interest in this instance
for the light it throws on Mary's outlook as she embarked on a new phase
of her professional life, a year after Harold Jones' death. It is no
 332

wonder that Mary speaks about Nevitt Sanford's offer to her at that time
with such a sense of heartfelt gratitude.
In addition to Mary's research on alcohol and personal ity
antecedents, she also interviewed some Stanford University students to
help collect data for the Institute's study of personality problems that
impeded growth and development in the student population, but Mary never
wrote up her findings from these interviews. This work was rewarding for
her in quite another way.

A New Friendship
Experienced as Mary was as a professional psychologist, a
researcher, and an emerita university professor, she nonetheless felt
some consternation at the prospect of the clinical interviewing she was
about to undertake in the Stanford project. She turned, naturally
enough, she felt, to a new colleague on the Institute staff for help,
Marjorie Lozoff. Marjorie was 20 years Mary's junior, but quite
experienced in just those techniques that Mary felt she needed to
develop. Mary exemplified, by this action, another of Sanford's
principles that he was hoping to foster at the new Institute through the
interdisciplinary approach. Sanford (1965) puts it this way:
There are highly important scientific reasons that the
institute should work on several problems at the same time.
It is just this kind of exposure to differing problems, and
the accompanying association with colleagues from different
disciplines, that serves to educate the staff in the
general ist orientation....work on different problems at the
same time would... lead the staff to look for underlying
affinities among them, for processes central to a diversity
of surface phenomena, and then to make advances on the
conceptual and theoretical front. (p.651)
 333

By Mary's seeking assistance from Marjorie Lozoff she was meeting some of
her professional needs, as Sanford would have wished, but she was also
opening a door to a valuable lasting friendship for two people.
Marjorie Lozoff took her undergraduate degree in sociology from the
University of Wisconsin in 1937. Later, after her marriage to a young
doctor who was planning to become a psychoanalyst, Marjorie earned a
Master of Arts degree from the University of Chicago in social work.
Marjorie's husband, Milton Lozoff, took his analytic training at the
Menninger Foundation in Topeka, Kansas. It was during this period that
Marjorie worked as a medical social worker and began developing her
clinical interviewing skills. In the 1940s she worked as a psychiatric
social worker under David Rapaport on the historic study of the Rorschach
Test that Dr. Rapaport and Merton Gill conducted (M. M. Lozoff, personal
communication, July 1986, refer to Note 76).
Although Marjorie had a full resume, which included teaching at the
college level as well as extensive clinical experience, she believes that
it was her psychoanalytic research experience, with its emphasis on
interviewing, that won her the job on Nevitt Sanford's team in 1961. She
was keenly aware that she was the only researcher there who did not have
a Ph.D.
When Mary walked into Marjorie's office a few days after they both
arrived at Stanford, and asked for Marjorie's help, the younger woman was
quite moved. After all, Mary was a psychologist of renown. The
realization that this distinguished woman was asking help of her gave
Marjorie a sense of her own legitimacy on the staff of the Institute and
helped her recognize her own potential contribution to the new research
 334

endeavor. The friendship that began that day in 1961 continued steadfast
throughout the remaining years of Mary's 1He.

To and Fro
While Mary was working at the Human Problems Institute at Stanford,
she lived on campus in an apartment, owned by the university, called
"Ki ngscote". On weekends she woul d drive up to her home on Shasta Road
in Berkeley. "I drove back and forth every Friday and Sunday," Mary
said, and added, "I sometimes wonder why I came home on weekends, because
I could have met more people, if I had stayed down there; but I wanted
to, and I did."
It was in the summer of 1961 Lesley's husband, Alec, received an
appointment as Assistant Professor at the University of California in
Santa Barbara, and they moved down there with the chi 1dren. Jane was
then four and a half years old and Peter had recently turned three.
A year earlier Barbara and her family had also moved. Kenneth
Coates had been called to a church near Portland, Oregon (see p. 306
above). The Coates' children ranged from 7 to 12 years at the time of
this move.
Mary continued her correspondence with her brother, John, and his
wife, Mary. They talked frequently by long distance telephone as well.
(For an update on John's vocational and advocational activities, refer to
Appendix F, item 87, pp. 1-3).
Mary's sister, Louise, and her husband, Bob, were living on the
farm, "Up Yonder," near Yosemite (see above, p.308). Mary visited them
quf te often in the 1960s, and the Hills were still living there in the
 335

mid-1980s. (Refer to Appendix F, item 88 for a snapshot from this

earl ier era).
Then there was Mary's nephew, John H. Cover, Jr., known as "Jack",
who visited Mary on Shasta Road in 1962 (see Appendix F, item 89).
Jack Cover is an engineer and he 1ives in Southern Cal ifornia. He has
become known in more recent years for his inventions. For background on
Jack's training, academic and technical, as well as his extensive
professional experience, refer to the letter his father wrote to the
Attorney General of the United States in December, 1975 (Appendix F, item
90, n.b, para. 3). This 1etter from John Cover, Sr., and the one he
wrote to Mary early in 1976, with a copy of a tel egram to Senator J.
Glen Beall, Jr., enclosed with the letter, give his father's view of
Jack's invention, the Taser (Appendix F, item 91, pp. 1-2). The
journalistic articles included offer additional perspectives (see
Appendix F, items 92 and 93). Taken all together, these documents tell
an interesting story about Mary's nephew.
In the mid-1980s Jack Cover was still inventing. He kept Mary
informed of his creative endeavors by telephone, correspondence and
occasional visits in person. Jack was working on the model for a
geothermal power plant. In his mid-60s Jack calculated that the goal he
was pursuing would not be realized before, "say 2050" (see Appendix F,
item 94, pp.1-6).
In addition to commuting weekly between Stanford and Berkeley,
visiting her sister at the farm, keeping the family network functioning
through correspondence and long distance telephone visits, as well as
developing friendships in her new work setting, Mary was also fulfilling
 336

professional commitments beyond the research she was conducting at the

Human Problems Institute in the '60s era.

Moving Right Along

As well as the publications on adult drinking patterns (Jones, 1968;
1971), Mary published other papers in the early 1960s. One of these,
"Individual Differences in Early Adolescence," appeared as Chapter VIII
in the 61st Yearbook of the National Society for the Study of Education.
Under the authorship of both Harold and Mary Jones this paper succinctly
reviews 37 years of research on adolescent studies (Jones & Jones, 1962).
In doing so, it places the adolescent studies from the IHD at Berkeley
into a larger context. Beginning with the Lewis M. Terman study of
gifted children, published in 1925, and continuing into 1960, the Joneses
gave a comprehensive overview of the field of adolescent development,
with emphasis on how these studies relate to the educational process.
Writing for the community of the teaching profession, the article
concludes, "This Chapter has dealt with the influences of nature and
culture upon the growing organism at ado lescence" (p.141), and then the
Joneses ask:
What is the significance of this for the individual teacher
whose primary concern is to help children in the learning
process? To characterize an age-and-grade group (fourteen-
year-olds, eighth grade) with their striking differences in
size, personal .and interpersonal security, motivations,
defenses, and attitudes, illustrative individual profiles are
presented. (p.141)
What follows are vignettes of prototypic adolescents; vivid descriptions,
giving examples of interpersonal interactions with peers as well as with
parents, sibl ings, and teachers. These anecdotal illustrations breathe
 337

life into the generalizations drawn from the vast body of developmental
research amassed through the years and surveyed by the Joneses. They
flesh out in concrete detail how nature and culture impinge upon the
growing child as he or she approaches adulthood, in a more or less
adaptive manner, in the home and in the classroom.
Mary·s contributions to her profession during the early 1960s were
varied. As well as her primary task, the research on drinking patterns
at the Human Problems Institute, Mary also chaired the Committee on
Fellows of the Division of Developmental Psychology of the American
Psychological Association (APA), 1961-1962. From 1962-63 she chaired the
Membership Committee of the Society for Research in Child Development,
and delivered a paper at the Society's Symposium in Berkeley in 1963.
Mary's Correspondence Course in Chi 1d Psychology given through the
Extension of the University of California, which began in 1951,
continued.
In 1963 Mary was a Visiting Professor of Child Development at Mills
College. She also served as a consultant, 1963-64, to the Endocrinology
Division of the Program on Longitudinal Research at the Scripps C1 inic
and Research Foundation.
Then, in 1963-64, Mary was elected President of the Division of
Developmental Psychology of the American Psychological Association. She
del ivered her presidenta1 address, entitled Psychological Correlates of
Somatic Development, in Los Angeles in August 1964. (See Appendix F,
item 95 for a Berkeley news item on this talk).
 338

With such a full agend a, it is not easy to think of

Mary as a
reti ree. In 1965 Mary' s work at Nevi tt Sanfo rd's Human Probl
ems
Insti tute drew to a close . The Comm onwea lth Club in
San Franc isco
engaged her to speak about her work on drink ing patte rns
and in April she
gave an addre ss there ent i tl ed "A Study of Dri nki ng
Patte rns and
Perso nality Corre lates. "

In May 1965 Mary return ed to Johns town brief ly, with

her siste r,
Louis e, to atten d Mary's 50th Class Reunion at Johns town
High Schoo l.
Mary "was en route to a scien tific meeti ng in Toron to, Canad
a." (Refe r to
Appendix F, item 96~

Then, in the follow ing month, Mary prese nted a paper at

the Annual
Meeti ng of the Weste rn Psych ologi cal Asso ciatio n (WPA)
in Hono lulu,
entit led "Corr elates and Antec edent s of Adult Drink ing
Patte rns" (see
Appendix F, item 97). This meeti ng remai ns espec ially memorable for
Mary becau se she took her first grand chi 1d, Carol Coate
s, to Honol ul u
with her. Carol had just gradu ated from high schoo l and
Mary had just
celeb rated the 50th anniv ersary of her own high schoo l gradu
ation. Carol
and her grand mothe r visite d all five island s of Hawa ii
and had a jolly
time sight seein g togethe~

A year later , from June 27th to July 2nd, 1966, Mary attend
ed the
Intern ation al Congr ess of Geron tology in Vienn a, Austr ia.
She had been
invite d to give a paper on aging , and she spoke about
the longi tudin al
studi es at the IHD at Berke ley. For comp anion ship this time Mary invite d
her grand child , Lynne, Carol 's young er siste r, to accom
pany her. Lynne
had just turne d 16 and had not yet gradu ated from
high schoo l.
Grand mothe r and grand daugh ter visite d not only Vienn a, but
Venic e, Italy
 339

and England as well after the Congress adjourned. One of the outstanding
events for both Mary and Lynne was a visit to Stonehenge, the prehistoric
megalithic momument on the Salisbury Plain some 80 miles west of London.

Back to Berkeley and the IHD

By the Fall of 1965 Mary was back home in Berkeley and beginning
again at the IHD. She had a new office in Tolman Hall. This bUilding
was being erected at the time that Mary and Harold were retiring in the
summer of 1960. Located on the northwest side of the U.C. Berkeley
campus, Tolman houses the Departments of Psychology and Education as well
as the IHD. Mary had only to drive down the hill from Shasta, cross
Hearst Street, and pull into the faculty parking lot adjacent to Tolman.
As a Professor Emerita in the Department of Education and Consultant to
the Intergenerational Studies (IGS) of the IHD, Mary was pensioned but
non-salaried. Having an office at Tolman facilitated Mary's continuing
productivity and professional contribution.
As Mary settled back into the IHD, she began to find a new role that
met her own needs while furthering the goals of the IGS as well as
benefiting members of the study. Logan (1980) speaks about Mary's
contribution to the success of the IGS at this time:
One of her tasks at the Institute has been helping to
maintain contact with the study members. We can see the
strength of her warmth and caring here not only as a personal
attribute but as a professional attribute as well. The
special relationships she worked to develop between the
research staff and the study participants is surely one of
the primary reasons for the lack of major attrition, a
problem of great magnitude in longitudinal studies (Jones,
1967). It also makes the work extremely satisfying. Many of
the study members have become her friends. In fact, one
piece of work she would still like to do is to write up an
account of what it's been like to be part of the studies over
 340

the years. (pp.112-113)

Some of the remaining study members, those from the Oakland Growth Study
(earl ier known as the Adolescent Growth Study), were in their mid-40s
when Mary returned to the IHD in the latter half of the 1960s. Mary was
the person who had recruited them when they were 10 or 11 years old, in
the 5th and 6th grades. At this period many of those members had become
parents of adolescents. As younger professionals joined the IGS staff,
Mary's continuing presence provided the study members with a link to the
past. She, as they, had been there in the beginning.
One way that Mary fostered her relationship with members, and
thereby strengthened the tie with the IGS, was by writing personal notes
on the holiday greeting cards sent annually by the IHD. Another, even
more vital touch, was the telephone calls she made to each member when
her or his birthday rolled around every year. Not only did this act
express her personal concern, it also gave Marya chance to record any
data that the member might want to share with her for the record. This
outreach to the members has, through the years, yielded rich rewards for
all concerned: the members themselves, the Institute and the IGS, as well
as Mary. Mary was profoundly aware of her own enrichment through those
efforts and she often spoke of how important these relationships came to
be for her throughout the years. Part of the value no doubt lay in the
trust that was established between the individual members and Mary, as
the one-to-one relationship developed over the years. Many confided in
her and grew to feel a familial connection with her. Often they have
expressed this in terms of a mothering relationship. The study itself
has been a profound experience for many of the members who have continued
 341

in it, and Mary must surely have become the embodiment of its spirit for
them.
Not only Marls relationship with study members deepened over the
years since her retirement. She also noticed a change in the way she and
her colleagues related. Mary said that they and she gradually became not
merely friendly colleagues, but rather, personal friends. Mary believed
that these improved relationships evolved, in part, because all of them
were under less pressure after they retired, and began working as
emeritae staff. They began seeing each other, through the more recent
years, by choice -- going places together; to concerts, to tea, having a
cocktail or glass of wine at each others' homes, or maybe joining one
another at a lecture or a luncheon. The need to "discuss business" no
longer pressed upon them. They grew to see that they had more in common
than merely their professional interests. In a sense, the work
relationship itself became more collaborative. When they were younger,
there was less time to enjoy each other's company.

National Recognition
As the decade of the '60s drew to a close Mary was honored at the
American Psychological Association Convention in San Francisco. On
September 2, 1968, the day following her 72nd birthday, Mary received the
G. Stanley Hall Award for Distinguished Contributions to Developmental
Psychology. This is "the highest accolade given in developmental
psychology" (Logan, 1980, p.103). The Executive Committee of the
Division on Developmental Psychology states that "the criterion for
selection is scientific excellence" (refer to Appendix F, item 98, pp.1-
 342

2).

And so the 1960s close, and Mary's 1 ife moves on into the '70s.

The 1970s

An Editorial Task

to view the text "as a progress report of research" since:

These studies are still going forward with more than two-
thirds of the approximately 500 study members still
actively participating. A number of books, monographs, and
papers are currently in press and in preparation. (P.v)
The Preface continues, noting that "we have had to omit five times
as many papers as we have included" in adhering to the selection
criteria, which were primarily longitudinality and breadth of coverage
"to show different facets of development and changing relationships
between these over time" (p.v~ Examples of the kinds of papers omitted,
 343

which are cited in a 1ist of publ ications, are then outl ined and there
follows a brief description of the contents of the chapters that comprise
the body of the text.
Finally, the Preface concludes with a tribute to the late Dr. Kuhlen
who served as consulting editor to the four editors, Mary and her
collegues, Nancy Bayley, Jean Walker Macfarlane and Marjorie Pyles
Honzik. They credit Dr. Kuhlen with furnishing "the initial impetus and
continuing supportive encouragement that impelled this venture to
completion" (p.v t 1)[77]
This publication is the most recent entry on Mary's citation in
Who's Who in the West (refer to Appendix F, item 99).

A Continuing Alliance
By 1968' Nevitt Sanford returned to Berkeley. There, in July of that
year, he founded a non-profit educational organization that "has as its
major aim the creation of means whereby the resources of social science
can qUickly be brought to bear upon the problems that arise in the
Community," according to an early brochure prepared by Martha Wagner
(1970, opening page), which continues:
It [The Wright Institute] studies these problems
with a view to finding the leverage points for action,
proposes actions and assists in carrying them out,
and evaluates the effects of particular actions.
The problems on which the Institute is working
during this stage of its development
are in the areas of intergroup hostility and prejudice,
poverty, innovation in higher education,
and the development of youth.
 344

Dr. Sanford, in a Proposal written at the time of the founding of

the Institute, has this to say about the problems it would undertake most
immediately:
We have established in the San Francisco Bay Area an
institute devoted to research, training, and action bearing
on some of the major psycho-social problems of our society --
problems such as ethnic prejudice and intergroup hostil ity,
the alienation and demoralization of youth, alcohol ism and
drug addiction. (p.2)[78]

Originally the Wright Institute did not include a graduate school of

psychology. This component was added soon after its founding:
Early in May, 1969, less than a year after the Institute was
incorporated, Mervin Freedman proposed to me that we start a
training program at the Ph.D. level, in clinical psychology.
I agreed, and the program was begun about 20 weeks later.
(Sanford, 1980, p.86)
Sanford continues by developing his ideas about education as a means
of fostering personal ity development in the individual and promoting
community, first in the educational institution and then in the larger

society (p.96). Because large centers of learning, such as universities,

"have been expanding and becoming differentiated at a rate far beyond
their capacity to achieve the integration which is necessary to any
1iVing system" (p.96), Sanford bel ieves that the smaller, free-standing

institute might be helpful in solving the problem of learning "how things

fit together" (p.97) which, he suggests, "is at least as important a part
of science as knowledge of how things may be divided for the purposes of

analytical study" (p.9?). Therefore, as Wagner (1970) puts it (on the

2nd page of the brochure):
 345

The Institute's approach is multidisciplinary

and action oriented.
It is multidisciplinary because
problems of the kind mentioned do not order themselves
in accord with the present arrangement
of professions and disciplines.
Moreover, the solution of such problems
requires the close cooperation of scientists and practical men.
Accordingly, the staff of The Wright Institute
includes both scientists representing a wide range of specialties
and men and women of action and experience
but without higher degrees.
Craig Comstock, the editor of Sanford's Learning After College
(1980), suggests in the preface that Sanford attained "a kind of creative
marginability" (p.vf t) in the Institute. As time goes by, the purpose
that Sanford envisoned for the Wright Institute continues to evolve,
integrating into its philosophical point of view aspects of its basic
values that are reflected from a somewhat different perspective in the
1970s and 1980s. These perspectives are addressed in the catalog printed
approximately 11 years after the foundation of the Institute; it is the
first catalog distributed after Dr. Sanford's retirement in 1979. The
opening statement is:
The Wright Institute is an independent, non-profit
institution devoted to education, training and research in
psychology, the social sciences, and education.... The
Institute pursues an interdiscipl inary research effort... in
social-clinical psychology and in psychosocial development
and education.
In both its research and educational programs, the Wright
Institute attempts to integrate and synthesize two
orientations that are not commonly found together: the
conceptual rigor and high scholarly standards associated with
the best traditional universities, and the devotion to
individual and social development and holism that emerged in
the 1960s. (p.L)
 346

The statement continues by affirming "a broader vision" [than]

'value free' education and research... [or] professional training in
psychology, education or other discipl ines" (p.t):
Rather, both its [Wright's] research and educational programs
are seen as mutually complementary parts of a broader vision,
one which affirms a positive value: The active enhancement
of human development, as well as the study of it, is the core
value which underlies all the Institute's work. (p.L)
It is within the parameters outlined above that Mary played an
active rol e at the Wright Institute from its founding and through the
first decade of its institutional life. She states, "Nevitt Sanford
retired from the Wright Institute, which he established, but he goes back
and gives a course in the history of psychology. Every once in a while
he asks me to come back and talk to his class" (Jones, 1983, p.9S). In
the Spring of 1981 the present writer attended a class at the Wright
Institute on the history of psychology. It was a graduate seminar led by
President Emeritus Nevitt Sanford and Dr. Glenn Hunter, a member of the
administration at that time. This student recalls Dr. Sanford's remarks
about Mary's contributions to a number of his prior classes.[79] He
spoke with a keen appreciation of how Mary's presence stimulated class
participation, deepening the personal exploration and sharing. The
warmth and forcefulness of her forthright contributions added a lively
dimension to what might have become a mere catalog of dry facts and
tedious arguments from the historical texts of American psychology.
Mary's style, as well as her substantive content, facilitated the
learning process among class members, according to Dr. Sanford's
recollections that day.
 347

A Deepening Association
There were other aspects of Mary·s association with the Wright
Institute that gave her satisfaction and pleasure. Marjorie Lozoff, the
new friend that Mary met at Stanford, was becoming an old friend through
a deepening association back in Berkeley. Marjorie, whose home was in
San Mateo, was commuting back and forth between Berkeley and her home at
least once a week during the 1970s. Marjorie Lozoff was continuing
research begun at the Institute for the Study of Human Problems. From
1973 to 1976, she co-di rected the Adult Development Study and Graduate
Education Study under the auspices of the William James Center of the
Wright Institute.
Prior to that, from 1971 to 1973, she was co-director of a study on
Desegregation and the Berkeley Schools, also conducted through the Wright
Institute.
From 1974 to 1976, Lozoff was the Associate Director of the William
James Center of the Wright Institute.
Beginning in 1973 and continuing to 1980, Marjorie Lozoff co-
directed Evaluation Research in the Doctor of Mental Health Training
Program at the University of California, San Francisco; at Mount Zion
Hospital and Medical Center in San Francisco, and in the Health and
Medical Sciences Program at the University of California in Berkeley.
Marjorie's work in Berkeley gave Mary and her a chance to see each
other face to face and so deepen their friendship. Marjorie did not rely
upon these personal encounters alone, however, to keep the friendship
flourishing. She telephoned Mary often and their long telephone
conversations were rewarding for both of them.
 348

New Connections
Another research team that was operating out of the Wright Institute
in the 1970s and well into the '80s was the Doctors Abraham and Frances
Carp. This husband and wife team is well-known in the field of
gerontology. Mary met the Carps through her association at Wright. It

was Frances Carp who introduced the young educator, Dr. Deana Logan, to
Mary. Dr. Logan wrote a biography of Mary that appeared first in the
special edition of the Psychology of Women Quarterly (1980) and later in
The Women of Psychology, Volume II (Stevens &Gardner, 1982).
In Logan (1980) another project of Mary's that grew out of the
Wright connection, is mentioned:
In addition to her [Mary's] work at the Institute of Human
Development, she is currently working on a grant proposal on
retirement with Nevitt Sanford, Frances Carp and others at
the Wright Institute. (p.1l3)
Logan adds, "She is also called upon from time to time for consultation
with students from the University of California and the Wright Institute
regardi ng thei r research."

Update from Brother John

In the meantime, while Mary was making a contribution to develop-
mental psychology by editing the papers in the Course of Human
Development (1971), and taking part in Dr. Sanford's innovative graduate
education program in psychology, John Cover was keeping Mary abreast of
news from Johnstown High School as well as other family developments (see
Appendix F, item 100, pp, 1-2, as well as correspondence cited above,
items 90 and 91, from the mid-1970s).
 349

SAGE
In the mid-1970s Mary learned about a new community program that was
being offered to older people in the Bay Area (see Appendix F, item 101,
p~1-4, for an overview of SAGE six years after its inception~ One of
the founder's of the group, Gay Gaer Luce, spoke about SAGE at a meeting
of the Western Psychological Association in San Francisco. Mary liked
what she heard and promptly signed up for membership in the second core
group, starting at about that time in Berkeley.
Dr. Luce, a psychologist and a popular as well as a scholarly
writer, explains how the program got its name in her book, Your Second
Life (1979):
In the Summer of 1975 we decided to apply to the Alameda
County Mental Health Association for a grant. We then
realized that a group without a name would be discounted.
One dark night when everyone was especially weary, we met to
se 1ect a name. We thought of hundreds. There was a
consensus on none. After a while we were too tired to care,
and we wanted a name by the morning. The name SAGE had been
a file heading when the project was still a fantasy in my
head under the title: Rediscovering the Mysteries.... The
name grew on us. SAGE fit our image.... We fi 11 ed in the
acronym with the words: Senior Actualization and Growth
Explorations. (pp.20-21)
Perhaps serendipitously SAGE contains within it the word "age." At any
rate, the group was founded in 1974, a year before it was named.
In her introductory remarks, in Your Second Life, Luce explains the
incident that led to the founding of a group for older people (rather
than one for children, as she had originally intended). Out of her own
needs, Dr. Luce had been studying skills in relaxation and other
techniques for handling feelings in productive ways that would enhance
the abil ity to concentrate and to "actually control and use [one's] body
 350

as [an] instrument" (p.3).

Before Luce had developed the skill s well enough to impl ement the
program, her mother came to visit, and Luce realized:
As we spent time together [that] these were skills she could
use, too. For instance she was having a hard time fall ing
asleep. I thought that if she could relax at will she could
fall asleep. She practiced it with the help of a biofeed-
back instrument. (p3)
Luce continues with a testimonial about how this and other learning
experiences that her mother had the following month proved helpful to her
when she became involved in a life-threatening automobile accident soon
afterward. Luce concludes, about her mother, '~t the age of seventy-one
it was the opening of a door she had not looked through since childhood"
(p.4).

Mary found the experience in SAGE enlightening and helpful, and even
a decade later, she mentioned it quite often and was re-reading Your
Second Life.

Samarkand
A year or so after Mary's experience with SAGE she began to think
seriously about moving to a retirement home. Her decision grew out of
the real ization that many of the better 1ife-care institutions, those
providing a range of medical care on various levels to meet the changing
needs of residents, were no longer accepting applicants beyond the age of
75 or 80.
In the Spring of 1977 Mary decided to move to Samarkand. She
learned about this retirement community through friends. It was most
attractive, and well-located for Mary. Santa Barbara is Lesley's home
 351

town, and also quite a bit close r to Barbara than Berkeley.

By enter ing in the Sprin g of 1977, Mary allow ed herse lf time
to
settl e in and see how she liked the place before her 81st birthd
ay on
September 1st. I n any case, she planned to return to Berkeley
in the
fall to atten d the 50th reuni on being held by the IHO for memb
ers of
their studi es.
Mary found sever al cong enial companions there who soon becam
e
frien ds. There were no serio us flaws in the new surro undin gs.
Neve rthel ess, Mary was not reall y happy there . Her state of
mind is
refle cted in a lette r she wrote to her old frien d and confi
dante ,
Marjorie Lozoff (see Appendix F, item 102).
Never easil y daunted, Mary decided to consult someone objec tive
to
help her sort out her feelin gs and make up her mind as to whether
or not
(or for how long) to "stic k it out," as the man she refer s to
in her
lette r advises.Lesley helped her mother find a psych iatris t with whom
to discuss the matter.
In conferring with the doctor, Mary told him that she was planning
to retur n to Berkeley in the fall for a visit at the time of
the IHO
reuni on with study members. In the cours e of this discu ssion
she
mentioned her offic e in Tolman Hall. The doctor expressed some
mild
surpr ise, saying (in words to this effec t), "You mean you still
have an
offic e you could go back to there?" Mary assured him that she did,
and
that it included her emerita posit ion as research consultant with
the
I HO. Somethi ng in the manner of the docto r's respo nse to
th i s
information conveyed a message to Mary that struck a responsive cord.
 352

Soon after this visit Mary decided to return to Berkeley -- to

Shasta Road and to her office in Tol man, with their attendant
responsibilities and rewards. She came back in time for the 50th
Reunion.
Samarkand kept Mary's initial fee that was required upon her entry
there. Mary thought that having been there earlier may have helped her
be accepted as a resident nine years later.

The 50th Reunion

Deana Logan (1980), Mary's biographer, 1 ists some of the
"luminaries" who came to Berkeley "to honor this group of researchers and
their study participants whose work is now proudly claimed by psychology"
(p.108). Among the luminaries Logan cites were: Margaret Mead, Robert
Butler and Alice Rossi. Then Logan mentions some of Mary's distinguished
colleagues who have worked at the IHD through the years, among them, Paul
Mussen, Jack and Jeanne Block, Dorothy Eichorn, Erik Erikson, Else
Frenkel-Brunswick, Norma Haan, Marjorie Honzik, Nevitt Sanford and
Brewster Smith. Logan speaks al so of an earl ier reunion, in 1969, when
Mary was given a citation that described her:
As "a player of many parts in the Institute's history -
charming hostess and helpmate to her husband, who for 25
years was the Institute's director and a distinguished
scientist in her own right... ."
Logan continues by saying that Mary was applauded for "her 'sensitivity
and perceptiveness' which led her to make 'multiple distinguished
contributions to the field of human development'" (p.108).
Shortly before the 50th Reunion, Deana Logan took a step that led to
her writing the biography from which the quotations above are taken
 353

(refer to Appendix F, item 103). In logan's letter (June 8, 1978) she

expresses succinctly many of the thoughts she develops more fully in the
two pUblished biographies (1980; 1982). Her letter also conveys the
special regard in which she holds Mary, as a mentor and friend.
For an excellent overview of the IHD from its inception in 1927,
with particular attention to the longitudinal studies, see "Out of the
Cradle Endlessly Rocking" (Appendix F, item 104). This article from the
California Monthly includes the perspectives of representative study
members as well as commentary by the professional staff.
 354

Chapter X
THE LATE 1970s AND EARLY 1980s

Back to Tolman Hall

Mary returned to her office at the IHD with ease. She continued her
position as Research Associate, retired, while deepening her commitment
to the study members. Her birthday greetings by telephone and cards, as
well as annual holiday notes, continued. On occasion she visited shut-
ins or those who were hospitalized. When members returned to the
Institute for follow-up assessments, Mary met them and had lunch with
them at the Institute. Thus she facil itated their continuing
participation in the longitudinal studies by acting as liason between
members and the interviewing staff.
For an overview of the study members as a group and their ongoing
links with the IHD, refer to selected newsletters (Appendix F, items 105,
Pp. 1-6). The June 1978 issue (PP. 4 and 5) presents a summary of prior
newsletters and highlights the general progress of the group as a whole:
You are maturing thoughtfully. A number of you have "moved
over" gracefully (reti red) to make room for a younger
generation. As always you are enjoying your own children,
adoring your grandchildren, and at least one of you is
entranced with a great-grandchild! (p.5)
The update ends on this note:
Perhaps most cheering, especially to the elders in our
society is your appreciation of and tenderness for your
surviving parents. (p.5)
 355

A little more than three and a half years later, in the most recent
follow-up study, a member has the following to say about aging:
I don't intend to be old. I was looking at Mary Jones today
and saying to myself she's the kind of person who walks
through our life and you look and say, "That's the way I
will be." I don't intend to be a dottering little old lady,
that's on everybody's nerves, I'll jump off the bridge if I
get to that point. My mind is far too active and interested
in things for me to bother being old. My body may be old but
my mind is not going to be 01d.l80]
Mary, at this time, was well past her 85th birthday. This statement no
doubt reflects the assessment of more than one study member.

A New Grant
--~;;,;;..;..;.

In 1985 Mary was awarded a new grant. She had submitted two
proposals through the IHD. One was for a follow-up on her research about
adult drinking patterns; the other, a follow-up on her earlier long term
research on early and 1ate to mature in puberty. Both proposals were
acceptable to the funding source, but Mary had to choose between them.
She decided to select her prior interest, those members who were early or
1ate maturi ng, and to concentrate, at first, on the men in the 1atest
follow-up, Adult 3:[81]
The emphasis for the first publ ication from the 3rd "Follow-
up" concluded in 1984 will be on the older Oakland group of
men (early sixties) with comparisons to the group of men
approximately 7 years younger, to women and to earlier
findings.
Mary further stated that:
The Intergenerational longitudinal Studies at the Institute
of Human Development interviewed and tested some 250 study
members in 1982-83. That material is now available for
research. At this time I want to bring up-to-date findings
on the health, mortality, social, behavioral and
psychological status of study members whose rate of maturity
was assessed over the puberal and adolescent years.[82]
 356

In the IHD Annual Report by Guy Swanson and Dorothy H. Eichorn

(1984-85) Mary's research is listed under the category of Biological
Development, and a summary statement of the findings are given:
Jones finds that some differences in personality and activity
noted during adolescence and in the subjects' early 30s and
40s continue. Early maturing boys appear to "take on" the
adult culture and to be treated by peers and adults as more
grown-up. This acceptance of the prevailing culture is
associated with responsible, dependable achieving, if
somewhat conservative, and concerned behavior. Late maturers
experience a longer latency period, continue to appear more
juvenile in adolescence. As adults they seem to be less
conforming, less accepting of the culture but able to cope
with life in a psychologically minded fashion. (p.19)
As Mary began working with the data, she said, "I've decided...that
I cannot put the Oakland Growth Study and the Guidance Study together for
many items; I'd like to have more cases, but they don't go together."
She added:
There were some differences in selection; we [OGS] took
people who were going into a certain junior high school and
certain high school; they [GS and BGS] took children born in
Berkeley.
She explained that the children in the BGS and GS were approximately
seven years younger than the OGS sampling. The younger groups were,
moreover, from Berkeley, rather than Oakland. The OGS members were
children of the depression and young adults in World War II. The other
two groups entered adolescence later.
Mary continued, explaining that she was looking at each of the three
groups separately. She would concentrate on the OGS data, but she would
be able to refer to similarities and differences in the other two groups
as her analysis progressed.
 357

Later, as Mary began looking at the data more closely, she

discovered that among the approximately 100 subjects remaining in her
sample from the OGS, the extremes needed for comparison between early and
late maturing males yielded too few members for quantitatively
significant results. At this point, she learned that a colleague, Harvey
Peskin, a psychologist from San Francisco State University, was working
on the same question from a different theoretical point of view. Using
data from the GS, Dr. Peskin was examining it for differences in early
and late maturing youngsters from a psycho-dynamic perspective. Mary and
he decided to try to pool their samples and do a collaborative study.
Dr. Peskin believes that Mary's learning theory approach is compatible
with his psychodynamic point of view. He draws on Jungian as well as
Freudian theory, and finds Mary's conclusions about late maturers' being
more psychologically minded than the early maturers complementing his own
theoretical formulations.

Mary as Doyenne
It was Dr. Joseph Wolpe, the medically trained, psychoanalytically
oriented physician from South Africa, who first bestowed the epithet,
Mother of Behavior Therapy, on Mary Jones. By that time Dr. Wolpe,
having found his psychoanalytic techniques unsatisfactory when he began
working with patients who were veterans from World War II, had become
proficient in behavior therapy. He began his studies in this discipline
by reading John Watson's published works, articles and books, as well as
Mary's early studies on childhood fears, especially her work with little
Peter.
 358

When Dr. Wolpe came to the United States, he visited Mary. He was
then at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences in
Stanford, California. Mary gave an address entitled "Albert, Peter and
John B. Watson" at the First Annual Southern California Congress in
Behavior Modification in Los Angeles in 1969.
Later Dr. Wolpe became a citizen of the United States and taught at
Temple University in Philadelphia. It was in Philadelphia in November
1974 that Mary gave the keynote address at the first Temple University
Conference in behavior therapy and behavior modification. "A 1924
Pioneer looks at Behavior Therapy" was the title of her address. This
conference was celebrating fifty years of progress in this field from
1924 to 1974 (Jones, 1975, p.181, footnote). It was on this occasion that
Dr. Wolpe called Mary the "Mother of Behavior Therapy."
Although Mary would demur, it might be equally appropriate in the
1980s to call Mary the mother of the OGS. Certainly she fostered and
nurtured the study through the years, beginning with the recruitment of
members in 1931. This she did by going into the fifth grade classrooms
and describing the procedures for the study to the youngsters. Just as
she was often asked about Dr. Watson and little Peter, so, also, was she
called upon to tell the story of the longitudinal studies, especially the
OGS, and to recount the history, as she remembered it, of the IHD.
Without attempting an exhaustive recitation, some of the more noteworthy
examples of Mary's contributions to archival collections, to historical
accounts, to monographs by other scholars recording the history of child
development, as well as her helpfulness to graduate students whose
dissertations she was asked to enrich, will be cited.
 359

First, the oral history taken by Suzanne Riess for the Bancroft
library (Jones, 1983), referred to throughout this paper, contains
valuable information about the work with Watson, the early history of the
child development movement, the founding and progress of the Institute of
Human Development at Berkeley, as well as rich biographical data about
both Mary and Harold Jones.
Then there are the transcriptions of the interviews with Milton J.
E. Senn which are a part of the Bancroft library holdings also (refer to
Appendix F, item 106~

A decade later Mary contributed interviews to Elizabeth M. R. lomax

for her history of child development theory, with special inquiry into
the IHD at Berkeley and its longitudinal studies. The results of Dr.
lomax's study are contained in the monograph Science and Patterns of
Child Care (lomax et al., 1978; see Acknowledgements, p.xtv),
Deana logan's biographies (l980 and 1982) not only document
important facts in Mary's personal and professional life, they also
capture facets of her character and personality in a lively and accurate
manner.
In 1981 Vicki Green from Oklahoma State University, working as a
Research Associate at IHD, interviewed Mary for a project on the history
of the IHD. In Dr. Green's letter, dated April 30, 1981, and signed by
her and Dorothy Eichorn as Associate Director of IHD, they state, in
part:
Because so much historical information is only in the
memories of persons who have made IHD hi story, data wi 11 ...
be obtained through tape recorded interviews with
professional and administrative staff who have worked at IHD.
Because you were associated with the Institute for a long
 360

period of time, we would like to interview you.

The letter also states that "there is renewed interest in historical
material in the fields of child development and life span development"
and that "IHD is a central part of such history."[83]
In 1983 Marian Studenski of Sonoma, California asked Mary for an
interview to "use as an addendum to my dissertation", which "will
examine advice to ~arents between 1930 and 1980" in popular literature to
determine "the impact of sociohistorical change and psychological theory"
upon this advice. Dr. Studenski's dissertation title is: 1930-1980 .:.
Fifty years of advice to parents: The impact of sociohistorical context
on American prescriptive 1iterature. Mary granted Studenski's request
and the transcri bed i ntervi ew covers 24 typewri tten pages. Upon
completion of the several interviews, Dr. Studenski sent a copy to Mary
of the chapter introducing it with a cover letter (refer to Appendix F,
item 107).
Another request that Mary complied with came from Cynthia S.
Pomerleau (1984) who published the outcome of her interview in Women and
Health. This article is biographical as well as historical.
Again, in 1985, Mary consented to an interview transcribed under the
title liMy Life with a Longitudinal Study: Mary Cover Jones." This
interview was conducted by Alice Smuts of Ann Arbor, Michigan. That Mary
was pleased with the results can be seen by her letter (refer to Appendix
F, item 108).
In March 1986 Mary received a request from a colleague who formerly
worked at the IHD, Nathan W. Shock. He and his associate, Leonard
Giambra, at that time at the National Institute of Health in the
 361

Gerontology Research Center, wrote Mary asking her lito participate in an

experiment" that might hasten understanding "the phenomena of aging"
(refer to Appendix F, item 109).
In addition to oral and written interviews, Mary contributed her
wealth of knowledge and experience in other ways. She wrote prefaces to
texts as well as introductory chapters. She proofread texts written by
colleagues as well as bUdding young professionals. She engaged in
editorial work with her community of peers.
A recent example of such a contribution is the Forward Mary wrote
for a textbook, in press, called Children's Phobias, by Neville King et
al, a behavioral psychologist in Australia. Another author, Angela
Schorr, published a text in 1984 on behavioral therapy in German. She
wrote to Mary, requesting her photograph to include in the book entitled
Die Verhaltens Therapie: Ihre Gerschichte.Y..Q.!!. den Anfangen bis zur
gegenwart.
In the spring of 1986 Mary received another such request, along with
printer's proofs of a new text being readied for press. This book,
entitled ~ History of Modern Psychology, 4th edition, is by two
psychologists, Duane Schultz and Sidney Schultz (1987, Harcourt, Brace &
Javanovich; see Appendix F, item 110~

Mary's friend and colleague, Francis Carp, also sought help from her
in editing a chapter that Dr. Carp is contributing to a new text on
aging. Dr. Carp's chapter is entitled "Maximizing Data Quality in
Community Studies of Older People." This text is edited by the Doctors
M. Powell lawton and Regula Herzog.
 362

In early 1987 Mary was busy preparing a speech she had been asked to
give before the Counselling and Career Service of the University of
California at Santa BarbarL It was to be historical in nature and run
for an hour to an hour and a half. Mary was to be introduced by Dr.
Robert Sherman of the Psychology department.
In these ways Mary passed on the mantle, offering help,
encouragement and hope to those on her path.

Mary as Public Citizen

On Mary·s Curriculum Vitae (Appendix F, item 65, pp.2-4) there is a
section under Experience labeled "b. Public Service." Many of the items
1 i sted there are addresses given before profess i ona 1 peer groups. Some,
however, are addressed to a more general audience. These contributions
were especially prevalent in the 1940s and 1950s. Mary continued her
public as well as her professional contributions. In 1983 she was
interviewed by Brenda Payton, a local columnist for the Tribune in
Oakland (see Appendix F, item 111). Ms. Payton calls Mary lithe resident
historian of the institute [IHD] and the field of developmental
psychology" (p.z), She quotes Maris reference to OGS members as "1 ike
an extended fami Iy" for her (p.2).
Later in the same year a longer story about Mary appeared in the Los
Angeles Times (see Appendix F, item 112). This narrative gives a fuller
account of Maris personal 1ife and history as well as her professional
contributions.
More recent publicity Mary received in the Bay Area is cited above
on the occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the OGS on Sunday, November 3,
 363

1985 (refer to Appendix F, item 63).

Study members took dozens of colored photographs of Mary that day.
One of the better ones that highlights Mary's profile (as well as her
corsage) is included here in black and white (Appendix F, item 113).
Coverage in the local press and as far afield as Los Angeles confirms
Mary's role as a public citizen as well as a renowned psychologist.

Society for Research in Child Development: SRCD

In April 1983 the SRCD had its 50th Anniversary meeting in Detroit,
Michigan. At first Mary hesitated, when she was invited to attend the
gathering and speak about the history of IHD. She was pressed into this
service, however, when officials reminded her that Harold Jones was one
of the early Presidents of the SRCD. Sanford et al. (1960) has this to
say about Dr. Harold Jones' contributions:
Jones was a charter member of the Society for Research in
Child Development, a member of its governing council from
1940 to 1945, and president in 1952-1953. (p.596)
While staying at a hotel near the conference hall, Mary and other
honored guests were driven to the conference with a police escort. This
gave Mary a good story to bring back to her grandson, David, who shared
her home on Shasta Road at that time. He had worried aloud to Mary about
her traveling so far from home without his being nearby to "help you
manage." She was able to tell him that she had a police escort "to help
me manage" while in Detroit! The photograph appended also attests to
Mary's continuing social skills (Appendix F, item 114).
 364

Group Life

Gerontological Luncheon Group

In the early '80s a number of professionals in the East Bay who were
doing research in the field of aging decided to form a group that would
meet monthly and inform one another about their work in progress. Among
the founders of the "East Bay lunch bunch" (as it was informally called)
were Drs. Abraham and Francis Carp. The Carps were working out of the
Wri ght Ins ti tute at that time. Mary was a cha rter member of th i s
network. She was one of the first to share her research findings with the
group. One member was able to provide a regular meeting place in a
delightful setting, the Berkeley City Club, through her personal
membership there (see Appendix F, item 115).

The Group: Pot Luck Dinners

In 1980 another group was formed; this one was just for fun (Jones,
1983). Christine and Nevitt Sanford were the founders. They called it
simply "The Group", naming it after Mary McCarthy's best sell ing novel of
earlier years, which celebrated her friendship network at Vassar College.
Nevitt had led a research project at Vassar in 1952 and he had pleasant
memories from this experience (see Sanford, 1980, for details). Mary
said it was really Christine's group. Christine was quite active in the
local chapter of the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom.
Some of the women who were her friends in that organization were invited
to join The Group. A number of them were widows. In Mary's own words:
Christine got a group together for dinner once a month...each
person takes something and we meet at one of the houses. The
hostess has the main dish. (p.95)
 365

One of the members was Margaret Rowell. She is a cellist who teaches at
the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. For her 80th birthday the
Conservatory gave a concert with 80 cellists playing in her honor. Mary
says, lilt was marve lous l" (p.96).
Another group member was Catherine Caldwell; she taught Chinese art
history at Mills College and her husband had been a professor at U.C.
Berkeley. Peggy Calder Hayes, sister of Alexander Calder, was also a
member. Mrs. Hayes wrote a book about her brother and the Calder family.
E1 izabeth El kus, whose husband had been a professor in the music
department at U.C. Berkeley, was another member of The Group.
The conversation at the dinner parties was 1ive1y. Topics varied
and were quite spontaneous, as a rule. Nevitt did, however, get the idea
on one occasion "of having everyone tell where they came from," and Mary
said that this gave her "a chance to tell about the Johnstown f100d"
(p.96).
At another time someone tried to draw out Nevitt and Erik Erikson by
tal king about her dreams. Nevitt said, "Wel1, what ~ your dream?"
Whereupon, the woman told her dream and it was met with silence by Nevitt
and Eri kson, Shop ta 1k was an unspoken taboo (p.96).
Mary found these pot 1uck dinners stimu1 ating and fun. Gradually,
The Group began meeting less frequently. The Sanfords left Berkeley
every summer for their cottage in New England. In the mid-180s, they
decided to move down the California coast. Before leaving Berkeley they
gave a dinner party that Mary remembered with pleasure.
The Sanfords have since returned to Berkeley, but Mary in the
meantime moved to Santa Barbara. They and she visited on occasion, and
 366

talked on the telephone, but The Group no longer meets on a regular

basis.

The Vassar Alumnae Group

Mary usually attended meetings of the East Bay Chapter of the Vassar
Alumnae, whenever her busy schedule permitted. In the Spring of 1985 the
Madrigal singers from Vassar College came to Oakland. Mary was asked to
distribute posters for this visit, which she did (see Appendix F, item
116). She also attended the concert with some alumnae friends.

GEL: The Group for Enriched Living

Unlike the Group that the Sanfords generated just for fun, GEL began
with a serious purpose in mind. Fun came as fallout. Marjorie Lozoff
founded this group in the summer of 1980. Its first official meeting was
in September of that year.
GEL grew out of Marge's long friendship with Mary. From the time
these two social scientists met at Stanford, in Nevitt Sanford's
Institute in the 1960s, their friendship had grown deeper and stronger,
enriching the lives of both. Marge telephoned Mary on an almost daily
basis and these visits became very important to each of them. Mary often
told Marge that talking over with her the little annoyances and irritants
of daily living was more satisfying and helpful than talking to a
psychiatrist, and Marge felt that she profited a great deal from Mary's
rich life experience.
Then, in 1980, Marge was stricken with an infection in her inner
ear, acute labyrinthitis, which left her with permanent damage that
affected her sense of balance. Marge's doctor explained to her that had
 367

she been younger, the damage might have been barely perceptible; had she
been older it would have been, in all probability, much more severe. As
it turned out, Marge has accommodated to the deficit remarkably well,
over time. This incident, however, gave her pause. For perhaps the
first time in her life, Marge began to think of the so-called "aging
process" ina personal way.
For years Marge had been actively i nvol ved in research on
personality development -- first with college age young people, and then
with young and middle-aged adults. In her friendship with Mary, who is a
generation ahead of her on the chronological scale, Marge felt that she
was seeing a preview of some of the developmental tasks that lay before
her.
At around this same time, Marge had joined a group called Overeaters
Anonymous. She liked some of the techniques of group dynamics used in
those meetings.
These several aspects of Marge's life -- her confidante relationship
with Mary; her recent illness with its vestige of disability; the group
experience -- led to an interesting idea. Why not, she. thought, start a
group of older adults who were aging well? By having the group meet
weekly, not for friendship, but in a more impersonal way, to discuss
whatever surfaced for them as meaningful, with no pre-determined format
and a minimum of regulations, it might, Marge thought, lead to some
interesting data about personal ity development in 01 d age. Marge was
already associated with a psychoanalytic group doing research in the
field of aging.
 368

Marge talked over this exciting idea with Mary. Mary recalled her
own positive experiences in SAGE, and real ized that Marge's idea for a
group made up of thoughtful, open-minded, articulate and still developing
adults might suit her present needs even better. Mary agreed to become a
charter member of the group. Marge planned to call it the "Group for
Enriched Aging."
The next step was to find the appropriate setting. Marge knew two
psychologists who were special izing in psychodynamic work with older
peop1e. In outl i ni ng her idea to them, these young men were
enthusiastic, and offered a room in their office complex at Mount Zion
Hospital and Medical Center in San Francisco for the weekly meetings
(refer to Appendix F, item 117).
The group was small at first, only about four people, inclUding its
founder, acting as facilitator-participant leader, and Mary. One of the
first changes the group underwent was a change of name.
An early recruit, a 94 year old woman, said she could not possibly
belong to a group that called itself a "Group for Enriched Agin~" When
Marge asked her for a better name, she said with alacrity, "Why not call
it the 'Group for Enriched Living?'" Marge was happy to comply.[84]
Beginning as a small group, a pilot experiment, GEL soon grew to two
small (sometimes not-so-small) groups. Each group met for an hour and a
half; one in the morning, the other in the afternoon, on the same day of
the week. Appropriate to the age and character of the members, the
original site for the meetings was a wide-windowed room in an Old
Victorian house, familiarly known as the "Dream House" (since it had
former1y housed a sleep 1aboratory).
 369

Through the 1980s the group that Mary inspired and helped found
continues. Mary was an active member as long as she remained in
Berkeley. She became qu f t e fond of the woman who renamed the group.
Recently, in receiving news in Santa Barbara about a group meeting from
one of the members, Mary exclaimed, 1I0h, how I wish I could have been
there! II

Continuing Education
At around this period, in the Summer of 1983 or 1984, Mary decided
to take advantage of a computer course offered on the UCB campus. After
all, Mary was still working as a research associate. She was writing a
grant proposal. She needed to keep her research skills au current (see
Appendix F, item 118~

A Happy Occasion: June 23, 1984

Dr. Milton Lozoff and Marjorie Lozoff decided to have a party to
celebrate their 45th wedding anniversary. They were still living in
their San Mateo home where they had reared their three daughters. The
rambling house on several levels was beginning to be a bit IItoo much ll for
Marge of late, however. Such an occasion would commemorate a long and
happy life there and provide the chance for an ingathering of family and
friends before selling their home. On a lovely sunny day several score
gathered in the Lozoff garden to enjoy the Lozoff's hospitality and wish
them many happy returns (Appendix F, item 119). Two old friends of the
Lozoffs are caught chatting at the party (see snapshot, p.2, top). Avis
Worthington writes romantic novels in her free time and was a baby sitter
for the Lozoffs many years ago, in an earlier home, when their daughters
 370

were quite young. Avis and Mary knew each other through their
association at the IHD where Avis worked as a secretary. Small world,
sometimes.
 371

Chapter XI

INTEGRITY, DESPAIR AND WISDOM

While Mary's busy life flowed along in its customary professional
and social paths, on a more personal level there were harbingers of
change that foreshadowed a new way of life.
It is Erik Erikson (1963;1950) who first suggested that wisdom is
the outcome of the successful integration over a lifetime of varied
stages of psychosocial development (1963, p.274). Just how a person
negotiates the task is the subject of Vital Involvement in Old Age by
Erik Erikson, Joan Erikson and Helen Kivnick (1986). A major point the
authors stress is that this adaptation is not a one time accomplishment.
It is, rather, a matter of a "current resynthesis of all the resil ience
and toughness of the basic strengths already developed" (p.40).
Mary was reading this text with a great deal of interest in early
1987. She said that she believed it speaks directly to her own condition
at this stage in her life. Although Mary enjoyed excellent health
throughout her life, she had, for a number of years, a hearing deficit.
She said that both she and her sister, louise, had a more serious
hearing loss than their brother, John. All three, however, shared this
disabi1 ity, a not unusual accompaniment of advancing years. Mary
adjusted very well to her impairment with the help of a hearing aid. Her
aUdiologist in Berkeley was Ethel Mussen, the wife of her colleague, Dr.
Paul Mussen. Mary found it hel pful, too, to use an amp1 ifier on her
 372

telephone. She became, through practice over the years, skillful in lip
reading.
In early 19B5, however, Mary was struck with another sensory loss:
the vision in both eyes was seriously diminished from macular retinal
degeneration.[B5] Mary's ophthalmologist could not offer her any hope
for amelioration, but he did assure her that she would not become blind -
a vast re1ief. With this reassurance, Mary set about adapting. She
went to the eye clinic at the School of Optometry at UC Berkeley and
ordered a number of magnifying devices, one equipped with a special high
powered light. These appliances allowed Mary to continue her work in the
office as well as at home.
Mary was able to renew her driver's license, but as time went by she
decided against driving. In pleasant weather she enjoyed walking down
the hill from Shasta Road to Euclid Avenue, a distance of a half mile or
so. There she could catch a bus that would stop at the corner across the
street from the entrance to Tolman Hall. Going home was a bit more
strenuous, since the inc1 ine up the hill is quite steep. However, she
used a walkway for pedestrians called Rose Steps, which had stairs in
steeper areas and a wide parapet on landings for easy seating en route.
Mary liked to take this walk, stopping to rest along the way, enjoying
the fragrance of the blossoming shrubs and the beauty of the houses and
trees along the path. This way was, moreover, a shortcut to her house.
It allowed Mary to proceed in a straight line rather than follow the
winding roads that the automobile traffic must take.
Rainy days pose a problem, however, for the pedestrian. Rain in
Berkeley tends to be accompanied by a drop in temperature. The dampness
 373

and chill combine to threaten with a head cold at the least anyone
intrepid enough to venture forth on such days.
On such inclement mornings Mary usually arranged to ride with a
neighbor who lived across the street and drove his youngster to school on
a route that passed Mary's destination. She soon found a colleague who
drove past her house on his way home at the close of the day. This was
especially welcome as winter approached, since the days were growing
shorter. Mary seldom had to resort to taxis for her trips to and from
the office; although this recourse was sometimes necessary for
appointments with the doctor or dentist, and other non-routine errands.
A weekly grocery order could be placed by telephone, charged, and
delivered to the door. Mary's grandson, David, who still lived in her
home, was happy to pick up those items that often turn up missing between
weekly grocery deliveries. David, who does not drive, would stop off at
the Co-op on hi s way home from work.
All in all, Mary found that she could manage quite well without her
car. Still, she wanted to keep it. It was a Dodge Dart, in excellent
condition. David's older brother, Jim, who lived in Oakland, was glad to
help his grandmother out by driving her on errands from time to time. In
this way the car battery could be kept charged, as well.
Had the vicissitudes of aging stopped with Mary's decrement in
vision, in all probability Mary would have continued living on Shasta
Road. There was more to come, however. In the Fall of 1985, towards
late September, Mary suffered a back injury. She was working at home, at
her table in the dining room. When she rose from her chair to leave the
room, she felt a sharp pain in her lower back on the left side in the
 374

lumbar region. Trying to walk after that was almost impossible. Her
doctor tol d her, after taking x-r-ays , that her vertebrae were
"crumbling." He advised her to stay in bed until those that had been
i nj ured cou1d mend.
Mary was reluctant to bother her daughters, but she also realized
that she needed to consult with them, and that they would certainly want
to know about this new development. Mary telephoned each of them.
Barbara and lesley flew up to Berkeley. Between the two Mary was
ministered to competently as well as lovingly. This problem was not
resolved overnight, nonetheless. Mary·s pain was eased with medication,
but the healing process took time. lesley insisted upon consultations
with other doctors and gradually a regimen was worked out that allowed
Mary to regain her strength and become ambulatory again. First, she
walked with the aid of a walker; later, she used a cane, and finally she
could walk without eithe~

During the weeks of recuperation that followed, Mary had the help of
a physical therapist who came to her home and, for a short time, a
visiting nurse. later on, lesley helped Mary find a woman who was a
practical nurse. She not only assisted Mary personally but also helped
prepare meals and straighten the house. Mia, Mary's regular house
worker, continued to come in twice a week to do the heavier household
tasks, as she had been doing for years.
Sometimes David would cook dinner for Mary and himself. Mary found
him to be quite a good cook. Although his menus were not Mary's
customary fare, she enjoyed the change. One night, she recalled, he
served abalone with ham, Chinese pasta, carrots and peas. Most of all,
 375

Mary appreciated David's helpfulness. As she put it, lilt's just a new
life! II
There were some good times and some bad ones during this
convalescent period. Both Barbara and Lesley visited frequently.
It was during this period that the OGS held its 50th anniversary

celebration (Appendix F, items 63 and 113). Mary had been working on the
preparations for this event prior to her back problem. She had been
looking forward to seeing the members of the study again, but now she had
some misgivings. She did not want to attend the reunion leaning on a
cane, but her colleagues at the IHD said, "You must attend!" She did;
and without the cane in sight.[86]
About a month later, Mary fell in her living room while trying to
close the window. She hit her forehead on the window frame as she lost
her balance. This was a relatively benign mishap, although it left one
eye badly bruised for a few days. In part because of this accident, Mary
began to give serious thought to her ongoing living arrangements.
Although leaving her home and her office was not an option Mary
liked to entertain, she found it intolerable that her daughters should
have to keep disrupting their lives by travelling to and fro from their
homes so often. Lesley lived closer to Berkeley than Barbara. Barbara,
moreover, was preparing to move as her husband's retirement approached.
Lesley was better able to travel, but she was by no means without
responsibilities. Although she reassured her mother that she enjoyed
travelling and that she wanted, most of all, for her mother to do what
was best for her, Mary knew that her incapacities were interrupting her
daughter's routine. Finally, Mary was most concerned because she did not
 376

know how long she would need this order of attention from her daughters.
When Lesley returned to Berkel ey to spend Thanksgiving with Mary,
mother and daughter talked over the whole situation. Mary would visit
Lesley in her home for Christmas and, they decided, while in Santa
Barbara Mary would make some preliminary visits to several retirement
homes in the area, including Samarkand. This is the home where Mary had
stayed for a few months in 1977, and where she had left her initial fee
when she returned to her home in Berkeley that fall.
Mary flew to Santa Barbara on Friday, December 20th. She had
considered taking Amtrak down the coast in the company of David, who was
spending the holidays with his parents further south. In discussing the
pros and cons of this idea, however, Mary decided that boarding the train
and then sitting for hours en route would probably be more taxing than
the short air flight. With the help of a wheelchair to reach the
departure gate at the end of the long corridor, Mary managed the flight
quite easily. The return, on January 1st, was even simpler. She had
only to take a wheelchair from the gate to a taxi at the curbside, the
attendant assisting her with her small overnight case.

Decisions, Decisions
Upon her return home from her Christmas holiday, Mary asked her
doctor for a statement about her abil ity to manage without assistance
(see Appendi x F, item 120). She needed the 1 etter to support her
appl ication to a retirement home that she and Lesley visited and that
Mary thought might be best for her in the long run. Mary also requested
a letter from another doctor who had been treating her for her back
 377

injury. He not only gave her a recommendation relative to her physical

health, but, according to Mary, a personality recommendation as well.
Mary did not have a copy of that letter, but the doctors's nurse read it
to her over the telephone.
The home in question is for retired teachers. To be eligible one
must have taught in California schools for at least 10 years. Mary
thought that in a community of former teachers she would be sure to find
a number of congenial friends. Furthermore, her sister's sister-in-law

(Whose first name is also "Mary") lives there. This home is a smaller
and more modest facil ity than Samarkand. Unforntunately, even though
Mary's physicians were happy to comply with the letters required for her
application, it was not accepted.

The mechanics of applying were quite time-consuming. After the

doctors' letters were mailed to the retirement residence and Mary's
application mailed around the same time, in early January, 1986, Mary was

required to visit the home again to be examined by the resident's doctor.

She went with Lesley and they found that the administrative director with

whom they had originally spoken had been replaced. The new director
explained that the facil ity had changed its pol icy, in the interim, and
was now committed to "a wellness program."

Ma ry was di sappoi nted but not defeated. She dec i ded to try
Samarkand again. The policy there, as explained to Mary, is that if the
prospective resident physician's report, submitted on the form furnished

by Samarkand, meets the home's standards, the appl icant must then move
into the apartment selected within two months of the acceptance date.
Mary's response was, "Thats where we are now. If they don't take me, I
 378

may just stay at home in Berkel eyl"

They did take her, and Mary's moving date was the first of April,
1986 (Appendix F, item 121).

A Moment of Despair
Mary suffered a return of her lower back pain shortly after she
returned home from her Christmas sojourn, in early January. The pain was
excruciating; IIS 0 bad," said Mary, "that I was talking to myse'l t'I" David
heard her cry out. He left the TV set in the living room and went to her
room to see what was wrong. IIGrandma," he asked, IIAre you depressed? I
heard you talking to yourself. 1I To his question she answered, IIYes!1I
David then suggested that maybe she needed to tal k to someone who was
trained to be a helpful listner. Mary agreed that might be a good idea.

Alternatives
It was not that Mary had to move into a retirement home at this
point. She had the option of staying in her home on Shasta Road and
renting the ground floor apartment to someone who would be at home most
of the time, or at least not out of town very often. Mary's grandson,
Jim, was a possibility. He and Katie had separated recently. He offered
to move in, but he would need to have two bedrooms on the main floor
reserved for his two youngsters when they came to visit. This sounded
good to Mary. Jim was then a cabinetmaker and he liked to help Mary by
making household repairs. His Christmas gift to Mary was to fence in her
garbage cans to prevent the racoons and 'possums from turning them over
at night. Mary was not sure, however, that she might not need the spare
rooms on the lower floor for guests or even, perhaps, live-in help, if
 379

she decided to remain in her home indefinitely. That contingency might

arise just when Jim·s children needed to visit.
Then there was a young Black student at UC Berkeley who was
studying Arabic. He was a friend of the grandson of some of Mary's
associates. This young man was interested in the possibility of renting
one of Mary's spare rooms, if he could have kitchen privileges.
Mary·s old friends, the Sanfords, were interested, also, in the idea
of a vacation home in Berkeley. They thought Mary·s apartment would meet
their need and be helpful to her as well. It would not, however, allow
Mary the security of having someone living on the premises day in, day
out, who could be available more or less constantly in an emergency.
There was a young woman, a vocational counselor from the Pacific
School of Religion, who would have liked to rent the apartment, sharing
it with a friend (to help pay the rent), but Mary felt the space was too
small for two adults living there full time.
Much as she would have preferred to have her grandson, Jim, she
decided it would not be fair to let him move in when her own longterm
plans were so uncertain. He would only have to relocate if she decided
to sell her house and move, after all.
In the end, Mary arranged for a young woman to move into the
apartment in return for her services. She was a graduate student working
toward a Ph.D. in Classics at UC Berkeley. Mary heard about her through
Mia, Mary·s houseworker. Mia worked for a neighbor of Mary, and the
young woman was this neighbor·s friend. In working out the detail s of
their arrangement, Mary explained that she could not promise indefinite
tenure. As it happened, the graduate student needed residency for the
 380

spring semester, and both of them felt fairly certain that this would be
available to her. Even if Mary left before the term was over, the house
could hardly be sold that rapidly.
They had the help of an attorney in defining their agreement. The
young woman agreed to water the garden regularly, to house sit and to
forward Mary's mail to her, should she be out-of-town on a visit or
should she move to Santa Barbara. Mary agreed to the young woman's
moving her baby grand piano into a downstairs bedroom. For her services
the woman would live rent free in the apartment. Before she took
occupancy, she met David, and Jim, too.

Other Options
In early March, after Mary's application to Samarkand had been
processed and accepted, Mary visited two retirement homes in Oakland,
"just to be sure." Both homes were recommended to her by friends. Mary
did not care for either one, really. At the end of this excursion, she
said that she felt certain that if she were going to leave Berkeley, she
would much prefer Santa Barbara to Oakland. Samarkand was more to her
taste than either of the two places in Oakland, and besides, "Les1ey is
in Santa Barbara."

Meeting Challenges
Mary's sister, Louise, expressed qut te well Mary's abi1 ity to adapt
to big challenges in life•. In a long, undated letter, probably written
early in 1985, around the time that Mary's sight began to fail her, there
is a paragraph that speaks to this ability (see Appendix F, item 122).
This excerpt offers an astute observation from someone who had been close
 381

to Mary throughout the years. Although it is written prior to the crisis

Mary faced later about her living arrangements, it might well be a
foreshadowing of future events. Mary's response to the changes that
occurred over the months that followed offered confirmation of Louise's
conviction: "You always come through" when challenges are big.
Another family member, from a younger generation, also wrote Marya
long letter a bit later in the year (see Appendix F, item 123; note
accurate date on postmark). June, Mary's niece, shows in this letter how
much ties with the extended family mean to her. Mary and June spoke on
the telephone around the time of Mary's birthday, when Mary turned 89.
June followed up on the long distance call with the letter. It is filled
with memories of her childhood vacations spent at the old Cover home in
Johnstow~ Clearly, this woman, now in her 60s, thinks of her paternal
grandparents with loving nostalgia. June is the firstborn child of John
and Ebba, who was a toddler when her "Aunt Betty" (Le., Mary) was a
young matron and a new mother. This was the era when Mary was working as
a graduate student at Columbia University, researching children's fears,
under Dr. Watson's supervision. Mary had a close tie in those years with
June's mother, who is no longer living. The letter reveals a special
place in June's heart for her Aunt Betty.

~ Neighborhood Network
In 1984 and early 1985 Mary became involved in yet another group.
This was quite small and informal, composed of several women in Mary's
neighborhood. The woman who initiated the gathering had an invalid
husband. He had sustained a very crippling stroke and his wife suffered
 382

the stress of his disability, also. She reached out to her neighbors for
support. The women she bought together met in one another's homes once a
week to talk over morning coffee. Some of these neighbors were women
Mary knew through other connections. One was a fellow alumna from
Vassar; another was the wife of a former colleague of Mary, a professor
in the Education Department at UC Berkeley. This woman had suffered a
number of strokes herself. Although Mary did not find these meetings
very helpful to her, personally, she liked the women and was glad to
attend the coffee hour as long as the others found the group beneficial.

~ Change of Direction
Towards the end of 1985 and the beginning of 1986 Mary was
continuing to work on her grant. Although she was no longer able to go
to her office on a daily basis, Dr. Peskin, with whom she was working
co11aborative1y, would come to her home. Other colleagues conferred with
her by telephone and by appointment in her home.
More and more, however, she needed to spend her time going through
papers amassed through the years. Some were filed in her office, others
were at her home. She sorted them into categories -- some would go into
the archives at the IHD; some would be kept with Harold and her Oral
History in the Bancroft Library; some belonged in the archives of others.
Other papers and letters belonged to her daughters and to other family
members. Those that belonged to her alone also required sorting and
filing for easy retrieval. To help with this task Mary hired a skilled
secretary part-time.
 383

These matters, professional and personal, required her attention

before she could turn to the more mundane, but arduous, job of packing
household objects. Decisions had to be made, of course, about what
furniture as well as more personal belongings she would take to her new
studio apartment; what she would give to children and grandchildren, and
what would go to Goodwill or the Salvation Army. The actual packing
itself would be done largely by Barbara and Lesley, with a lot of help
from Jim. He would drive a U-Haul van down to Lesley's after Mary moved,
taking in it, among other items, the large dining room table built by his
Grandfather Jones.
The house on Shasta Road would still be lived in while being shown
to prospective buyers. David would be there for a while, although he was
looking for a new place. For the time being the new tenant was still in
the apartmen~ Most of the antique furniture would remain in the house
until it was sold. The antiques came from Harold's family. Mary's
family lost all of their really old pieces in the big flood in 1889.
Among Mary's cherished possessions that she would not take into her
new home were the qUilts from Grandmother Higson. Barbara has them now.
All of the paintings that she took with her were done by either family or
old friends. The two paintings by an old friend, Flo Holmes, would go
with Mary, to grace the walls of the studio. Flo Holmes' late husband
was a professor whom Mary knew in the Department of Education at UC
Berkel eye When Mary and Harol d reti red in 1960, Dr. Hol mes suggested
that Flo give one of her paintings to Mary as a retirement gift.
Florence had studied brush painting under a Japanese artist, Mr. Obata,
at UC Berkeley. The gift is a landscape of a cypress tree along a
 384

shorel tne. Later Mary purchased another of Flols works that she
especially liked; it is a brush painting of a rooster, delicate and full
of grace. Flo and Mary remained good friends through the years. Their
friendship continued through the exchange of letters after Mary's move.
Mary brought other art work with her into her new quarters. Some
time ago Maris sister-in-law, Mary Cover, had given Marya brightly
colored impressionistic cityscape in varied hues of orange. Mary hung
this painting in her new apartment.
Another favorite that Mary brought with her from Shasta Road is a
landscape called "Capri." The artist is an OGS member who had been
working for some time on Maryls portrait, using a colored photograph
taken at the 50th Reunion of the OGS in November 1985. His first
rendition did not satisfy him because, he explained to Mary, it did not
capture the expression in her eyes. On June 7th, 1987, he and his wife
brought the finished painting to Santa Barbara. After having dinner with
Mary and Lesley in Les ley's home, the artist and his wife took the new
work, which measures 2' x 31 , to Maris apartment and the artist himself
hung it on her wall. When Mary awakened each morning the portrait fell
in her line of vision. In the painting she is wearing a blue and white
ensemble that highlights the color of her eyes. The artist turned next
to working on a smaller variation of the portrait to give to the IHD.
Mary entertained one of Les Iey's friends in the new setting. She
and Lesley joined Mary for dinner at Samarkand and they spent the evening
visiting. This vts ttor's bread-and-butter 1etter eloquently captures
Maris success in making the apartment into her home (see Appendix F,
 385

item 124).

Some Abiding Ties

Moving from the home where Mary had spent the greater part of her
adult life was fraught with more than the ordeal of sorting and packing;
more than the dilemma of deciding what to give to whom, what to discard,
and what to take into her new setting.
As anyone who has moved knows, going through 01 d correspondence,
writing notes to friends about an impending move, receiving responses, in
the form of auf Wiedersehens as well as letters wishing one happiness in
the new setting - all such activities tend to turn ones thoughts to a
life review. Mary shared her thoughts - often of hopes and sometimes of
fears - with those closest to her, as well as those with whom she
anticipated becoming closer in her new surroundings. (For some of the
responses she received refer to Appendix F, items 125 and 126, pp. 1-3).
The first item (125) is a card sent to Mary by a study member who was
celebrating his own retirement. It is not a response, but rather a
foreshadowing. This member did not know that Mary was preparing to leave
her home on Shasta, overlooking the Bay, and move into a retirement home
at the time he sent her the postcard. He was responding to his own
reminiscences upon viewing the lights of his wife's home town in far away
Germany. And yet the card reads as though he might have known, and it
struck a responsive chord for Mary when she received it, in the midst of
preparations for her move.
The next two items are answers Mary received from two friends she
had made upon her first sojourn in Samarkand nine years ago (126, pp. 1-
 386

3). The photograph in color on the original of the postcard in item 126
is of Samarkand.

More Abiding Ties

The loving note that follows comes from Mary's brother John, and his
wife, Mary (Appendix F, item 127).
Not all the letters that Mary read at this time were newly written.
Some were uncovered in the sorting and packing process. Among the most
rewarding were those that came from Lois, Mary's friend from Vassar
college days and those early days in New York. Three letters and a note
on a newspaper clipping from Lois, written in the first half of the
decade of the 1980s, are included (Items 128 through 131). Mary's
response to these newfound mementos was one of gratitude. She felt as
though her old friend had been restored to her. As she put it, "When I
found the box filled with letters, clippings, and notes from Lois, and
re-read them, I realized she thought about me more than I supposed she
did. This makes me feel better about our relationship. Previously I had
thought I cared a lot more about her than she did about me; now I no
longer feel that way."
The first one of Lois' letters, written in the Spring of 1982,
speaks about the demands made upon a retiree's time, and Lois demurs a
bit at Mary's remark about being intellectually active "to keep brain
cell s fi t,"
In the next 1etter, Loi s suggests there is a part of Mary that is
still young, again reflecting on a prior letter from Mary to which Lois
is responding. Then Lois expresses pleasure at being included in Mary's
 387

oral history (Item 129).

The following month Lois sent Marya clipping from a Santa Monica
newspaper about an activity to which Lois was commiting her time and
talent, the Senior Health and Peer Counseling Center (SHPCC). Mary
responded to this by noting that her friend appears to be more "growth"
motivated than she (see also the following item, 131, p.3, for more about
psychological growth). Mary's point, apropos of the prior reference, is
that Lois began her professional life as a musician, a concert pianist,
and in her later years she has found a new and quite different creative
endeavor in peer counsel ing. She has switched from the performing arts
to the helping professions. Mary, on the other hand, saw herself as a
comparative II stick in the mud", since she continued along the same path,
that of developmental psychology.
In November 1983, over a year after Lois sent Mary the clipping
about SHPCC, the two old friends had a face-to-face visit in Mary's home.
While there, Lois attended a GEL meeting with Mary (on Tuesday, November
15th) and, among other topics, Lois told the group how rewarding she
found the peer counseling program.
Lois' enthusiasm fo-r SHPCC may have had some influence upon Mary's
decision to telephone Lois and have a long distance visit with her in the
Spring of 1984 (refer to item 130). JUdging from Lois' letter, the two
spent quite a bit of their visit talking about Mary's considering whether
or not to participate in a research project that provides 16 sessions of
psychoanalytically-oriented psychotherapy for adults over 50. Two goals
of the project were to help the clients deal with developmental tasks of
aging and to evaluate the efficacy of the research methodology. Mary
 388

learned about the project through her connection with GEL. She did
decide to enter the research project as a subject and she completed the
series of therapy sessions.
Another especially heart-warming letter that Mary received, this one
in the winter of 1986 while she was caught up in the logistics of moving,
came from her old friends, Dr. and Mrs. Joseph Wolpe (see Appendix F,
item 132). The Wolpes were visiting their son in southern Cal ifornia.
They had hoped to visit Mary, too, but the timing did not work out well
for them. Mary, involved with the multiple tasks of moving, found the
Wol pels 1etter a moral e booster.
A few months later, in April 1986, after Mary moved to Samarkand,
Dr. Wolpe and she had a chance to visit. Mary said, "Wolpe was here. I
talked to him and went to the conference he was attending. I was
'hailed' by the audience, and I enjoyed meeting some young people there."
The "young" people, Mary added, were in their 60s.
Later still, towards the end of July, Mary heard from Dr. Wolpe
again (Appendix F, item 133). In forwarding a copy of this brisk letter,
Mary penned her own commentary, written on one of Louise's wildflower
note papers (see Appendix F, item 134).
During this same period, from early 1986 when Mary began
preparations to move and through the spring months while she was
settling into her new place, Mary received several letters from another
coll eague of 1 ong-s tandi ng, Dr. Jack 81 oc k, Thi s correspondence
continued through the following year. About these letters Mary had this
to say:
 389

He [Jack Block] writes me letters which I greatly appreciate.

Thank God (or whomever) for my friends in Berkeley!
Sustaining correspondence was not 1imited to colleagues who were
also dear friends. There were letters from Mary's family as well. One
that she treasured particularly came late in April from her grandson,
David, who was still living on Shasta Road at that time. Other family
members kept up steady correspondence with Mary, especially her grandson,
Jim, and her sister, Louise. Four letters from Louise, all written
within a few months of each other, in the first half of 1986 (one, dated
1985, appears from internal evidence to have been written in 1986), gave
evidence of Louise's concern for her older sister and her hope that Mary
would be able to make the transition from Berkeley to retirement at
Samarkand satisfactorily (see Appendix F, items 135, 136, 137 and 138).
Soon after Mary moved into her new home she began visiting a
psychiatrist, once every other week. This was the same docter who had,
nine years earlier, helped Mary decide to leave the retirement home and
return to her office in Tolman Hall and her home in Berkeley. Now, Mary
reported, the doctor appeared to believe that she had made the right
decision in returning to Santa Barbara. Mary wrote, in May 1986, "I still
see my psychiatrist and go to three classes!"
A month earlier, less than two weeks after arriving in Santa
Barbara, Mary wrote about her new status:
That Mary Jones••• is now in a retirement residence trying to
adjust! She likes being near her daughter, the sunshine, the
bird calls (mocking birds), but she misses her former life
and friends ..... Lesley is a wonder - the best thing about
S.[anta] B.[arbara].
 390

Then, a month later, Mary spoke about a new friend. This woman used
to be employed in Berkeley at the School for the Blind and Deaf. Now she
herself had been losing her hearing and her eyesight. Mary and she ate
dinner together, at a table seating five. Sometimes the friend visited
Mary after dinner in her apartment and they watched the MacNeil/Lehrer
newscast and the nature programs that follow soon afterwards on the
public television channel.
Mary met other people she also found likable. One of these was a
woman from Amherst, Massachusetts whom Mary met originally through Harold
Jones' sister, years ago. Mary and she had exchanged Christmas cards
through the years. Now they found themselves living in the same place.
This old acquaintance was born in China. Her parents were medical
missionaries. Recently she had been quite ill and had to go into the
hospital at Samarkand; but she recovered and returned to her own
apartment on the third floor, down the hall from Mary's apartment.
The two friends whom Mary knew from her earl ier days at Samarkand
were not as available as Mary had thought they might be, when she first
decided to return. One of them had a sick husband who required a great
deal of his wife's time and attention. She sat at the same table as Mary
at dinner time, however; so they did have a chance to visit while dining.
The other woman had become very active in the community of Samarkand.
She was involved in many projects that are time-consuming and she also
worked in the gift shop at the residence.
In the early weeks following Mary's move into her new environment,
while renewing old acquintances, making new friends, and trying to find
her niche, Mary wrote to her grandson, Jim. She must have confessed to
 391

feel ing a bit IIgloomyll, jUdging from Jim's response, which was perceptive

and loving (refer to Appendix F, item 139). Jim took note, on his
dateline, that he was writing to his grandmother on the birthday of his
sister, lynne.
 392

Chapter XII

SETTLING IN

As the weeks grew into months at Samarkand, Mary kept extremely

busy. There were the customary telephone visits with her brother, John
and Mary, his wife, as well as with her sister, Louise, and her husband,
Bob. Mary's old friend, Marjorie Lozoff, continued her telephone visits
with Mary frequently, although Marge did not call Mary daily, now that
she was in her new surroundings. Shortly after Mary moved to Samarkand
she received a telephone call from Ike, a member of GEL who lives in
Napa, California. Ike's wife, Dorothy, was both a colleague and a friend
of Mary from the IHD. Ike also corresponded with Mary, keeping up their
friendship that began years earlier and grew stronger when Dorothy and
Ike stayed in Mary and Harold's home during the latter part of Dorothy's
pregnancy.[87] Travel ing back and forth from the Eichorn's home in Napa
to the Institute in Berkeley had become difficult for Dorothy as her
pregnancy progressed. More recently, Mary's and Ike's friendship
flourished through the meetings of GEL.
There were neighbors from Berkeley with whom Mary also kept up an
active correspondence. One of them, Catherine landreth, was also an
early associate from the IHD. Catherine was Director of the Nursery
School at the Institute in its early days (see above, p.267~

letters and cards poured into Mary's new mailbox from OGS members.
Mary continued telephoning these folk on their birthdays, and she sent
 393

them birthday cards with personal notes, as she has been doing through
the years.
Mary was an excellent correspondent who answered letters from
family, friends, and colleagues, as well as study members, fully and
punctually. Visits were important to her - either in per-son or by
telephone. Notes and cards were also highly valued. All of these media
of communication helped Mary keep her interpersonal relationships alive
and well.
Mary entertained visitors in the residence dining room as well as in
her own apartment, and she was often invited out to dinner. lesley and
Mary shared many meals together; sometimes at Samarkand; often in
lesley's home. On Mother's Day Barbara and Ken came to lesley's for an
overnite visit and Mary spent the day there with all three of them.
In addition to an active social life, Mary was settling in in other
ways. With lesley's help, Mary found a new dentist as well as a new
physician. The dentist fitted her mouth with new bridge work. The
doctor was a young man of 40 years or so who received his training at
Johns Hopkins. He gave Marya complete medical evaluation prior to
recommending changes in her medication. This required a number of visits
-- some in the form of house calls by the doctor; some to the hospital by
Mary. She took a battery of 1aboratory tests. The doctor gave tests
that none of her former doctors had given.
Mary also had a new hearing device fitted. All of these procedures
required a great deal of time, as well as a considerable outlay of
capital.
 394

Finding a new hair stylist was another item on the agenda. Mary had
(as may be noted from photographs in Apprendix F) an abundant head of
hair. It needed to be properly cut to enhance its natural curl and allow
it to frame her face gracefully.
Samarkand, Mary found, has a good 1ibrary. It is located close to
the dining room. Mary visited it often, checking out books to take back
to her apartment for reading at her leisure.
Beyond Mary's own strategies for settling into her new milieu,
Samarkand abetted the process by offering a number of activities that are
scheduled on a week-to-week calendar (see Appendix F, item 140). Mary
was looking forward to the Chautauqua days scheduled for mid-May (refer
to "This week" at the top of the Activity Highlights on the Calendar,
p.1). She found this a disappointment, however. This activity failed to
capture the essence of Chatauqua, as Mary recalled it from those
rewarding summers spent there in her childhood and early teenage years.
One of the classes Mary attended regularly she found quite
interesting. It is called "Recollecting and Writing" (item 140, n.z ,
under Wednesday 5/14). The group met for two hours once a week. The
teacher was a member of the faculty of Santa Barbara City. College. She
was competent and enabling. There were around 15 members. Everyone
brought written assignments to class and each took a turn reading aloud
from her/his paper.· Then the class members critiqued one another's
papers. Mary said that the class was supportive of each member's work.
The interchange among classmates was what Mary liked most about the
classes (see Appendix F, items 141 and 142, for two examples of Mary's
contributions. Note her comment above the cartoon in item 141).
 395

There was another class that Mary enjoyed. It was held at a

neighboring retirement home, Valley Verde. The teacher was Bill Downey,
who wrote a book entitled Writing From the Right Side of the Brain. This
class drew on the larger community for its students and it numbered close
to 30. Mary found the group stimulating. She re-worked some of her
earlier unpublished writings about the OGS members for this class.
Another subject Mary was writing about was her own retirement. She
called this paper "When Did I Retire? 1960 or 1980?" (see Appendix F,
item 143). Marls only complaint about these two writing classes was
that she found typing troublesome. Marls psychiatrist was encouraging
her to do some writing independent of these class assignments. He
suggested that she might keep a journal, focusing on her feelings. Mary
began giving the suggestion some serious thought.
Another class that Mary tried soon after her arrival in Santa
Barbara was one in Current Events. She found this unsatisfactory because
she could not hear well enough to participate in the discussions.
A third class that Mary attended was one in exercising. It was held
for an hour once a week at Samarkand. Her exercise was not limited to
this hour once a week, however. She walked to and from the dining room
for all of her meals. This was a pleasant walk, in Santa Barbara's
customarily sunny weather. It was almost a block each way, past a fish
pond stocked with beautiful Japanese carp.

Getting Around
It was important to Mary not to become too dependent upon Lesl eye

That, after all, was one of the reasons she moved to Santa Barbara in the
 396

first place; so as not to work a hardship on her daughters. She was glad
to find, therefore, shortly after her arrival at Samarkand, that an
unusual transportation service was available to her. It was, said Mary,
"not cheap, but worth the money it cost," A woman named Jean provided a
service for seniors, especially. She called it "Jaunts with Jean,11 and
her customers paid a fee by the month, rather than a fare by the ride.
Jean drove the passenger wherever s/he needed to go within the greater
Santa Barbara environs. Mary used the service for transportation back
and forth from the writing class that Bill Downey taught. She also used
Jaunts with Jean for occasional appointments with her psychiatrist, and
other errands she might need to run. The service was highly
personalized. Jeanls car was equipped with a two-way radio.
Samarkand had its own van that would take residents for more routine
doctor or dental appointments, as well as for special events sponsored by
the residence, such as the Santa Barbara Symphony (see item 140, p.2,
last entry). With these two services Maryls transportation needs were
well met.

First Weeks of Summer in Santa Barbara

By mid-May Mary was settling in quite well. After Mother's Day
Lesley took a brief vacation to visit her daughter, Jane, in Fort
Collins, Colorado. The day after arriving back home, Lesley had her
Sierra Club group in for a new members meeting.
Mary was spending more time in chapel and church than had been her
custom in Berkeley. Towards the end of May she joined Lesley for a
Sunday service at Lesley's church. The minister spoke to the question,
 397

IIWhat Is A Ltberal ?" He also quoted from Carl Jung (whose last name,
Mary noted, he pronounced "younq"),
A hymn frequently sung at Unitarian-Universalist services gave Mary
special pleasure (see Appendix F, item 144).[88]
The wife of the minister at the church to which Lesley belonged had
had training with SAGE. This was several years ago. She and Mary spoke
about the possibility of starting a SAGE group under the auspices of the
Unitarian Universalist church of Santa Barbara.
On June 1st Mary went to religious services tWice. In the morning
she attended chapel at Samarkand and in the afternoon she visited a
service of the Chinese Free Church with some of her new friends at
Samarkand.
The following Sunday was Lesley's birthday and she and Mary went to
church together again. This time the service included a celebration of
the ending of the church school year. The youngsters of the congregation
were responsible for the program. The theme they chose was peace.
Teachers were recognized for their service to the church school
throughout the preceding year, and Lesley received an award for her
teaching.
Mary enjoyed occasionally attending service with Lesley. In
general, however, formal rel igion was not Mary's cup of tea; not since
her philosophy course at Vassar. Mary was not opposed to religious
observances. It was simply something that she did not feel she needed in
her own life. This caused her some discomfort in her new living
situation. Most of the residents at Samarkand attend church regularly.
They say blessings at mealtimes. They talk about religious concerns
 398

frequently. Prayer is a part of their daily lives. Since Mary had a

son-in-law, Ken, who is a minister, her new friends naturally assumed
that she, too, would be a devout Christian. Upon learning that she
occasionally attended services with her daughter lesley, two of her new
friends asked her, one day, if she bel ieved in the Holy Ghost. Mary's
reply to the question was, "The Unitarians don't; make you." Theological
discussions tapered off after this compendious response.
Mary had read another kind of bible in recent years. This is a book
by Derek Humphrey called let Me Die Before 1 Wake. It is advertised as
'The bible of the euthenasia movement."[89] Mary was reminded of the
book since movi ng to Samarkand because she found another book, in the
1 ibrary, called Euthenasia and Religion, publ ished in 1985. This book
examines the question of euthenasia as a number of modern religions look
at it -- the Roman Catholic Church, the Hebrew religion, Christian
Science, and other denominations of Protestantism. Mary found this to be
an interesting boo~

Changes in Traffic Patterns

Mary knew, at the time she planned moving to Samarkand, that the
residence was embarking on a building program (refer to Appendix F, item
125, para. 1). In June of 186 the renovation was in full swing. An old
building was being razed and a new one erected in its place. This
reconstruction entailed ground breaking as well as removal of shrubs and
trees. The blue jays, which Mary had enjoyed feeding on her window sill,
were frightened away by the construction work. Mary and her neighbors
were re-routed for their trips back and forth from apartments to dining
 399

room. There were more stairs to navigate up and down on the new pathway.
At times Mary had to revert to using her cane. The workmen arrived
early, around 7:30 in the morning, and the noise was deafening. All in
all, this was not a pleasant experience.
It was around this time that Mary had been looking forward to a
visit from her old friend, Lois. She and a friend of hers had planned to
drive up to Santa Barbara from Santa Monica to visit Mary. This trip was
cancelled at the last minute, however, because Lois developed a severe
back pain. This made the long automobile drive out of the question.
Lois and Mary decided that Mary would visit Lois, instead, when Mary goes
to Long Beach for Barbara and Ken's retirement celebration at the end of
June. Santa Monica would be on the way.

Family Gatherings: Another Retirement

Lesley's son, Pete, came home from college in Colorado in mid-June.
Barbara came up to visit, and Louise and Bob came down to Santa Barbara.
The occasion for this gathering was the celebration of Lesley's birthday.
Barbara's son, Jim, sent a cassette of a song he wrote for Mary (see
Appendix F, item 145). He set it to music and accompanied it with a
gUitar. Although the heading on the copy furnished Mary is "Jim's Song",
Mary said that he referred to it as "Grandma's Song." Mary shared Ji m's
letter, written to her on May 21st, with her granddaughter, Jane, Jim's
cousin, when Jane visited her mother, Lesley, in early June. Jim's song,
dedicated to his grandmother, makes a heart-warming follow-up to his
earlier letter (see item 139).
 400

All of the extended family who were in town gathered for dinner at
Lesley's home on Sunday, June 15th. Pete was there, and his aunt,
Barbara, as well as Bob and Louise and Mary, and, of course, Lesley
herself. The following day Barbara accompanied Mary to her class, but
the instructor was not there. Barbara and Mary returned to Samarkand for
lunch. Then Bob and Louise, as well as Lesley and Barbara, joined Mary
for dinner at Samarkand. That evening, because of the renovation work
still underway, the electricity in Mary's building was turned off. Since
Mary lived on the third floor and the elevator would not be operating,
Mary's company decided they had better leave early to avoid the hazard of
descending the long stairway in the dark.
Barbara left for Long Beach on Tuesday. Louise and Bob stayed on at
Lesley's for a few days. On Thursday evening the four remaining members
of the family joined Mary Hill, Bob's sister, for dinner out in Santa
Barbara. Mary Hill 1ives at the retirement home to which Mary applied
just prior to her return to Samarkand.
These festive occasions were sobered by the news of a sudden death
in the family. John Cover's grandson, a young man in his late 30s, died
in his sleep a week or so prior to the family gathering. Mary was
uncertain of the cause of his death. He was a scuba diver, and she
believed that his death might have been related to his work under water
in some way.
Mary's plan to visit Lois while en route to Long Beach for Barbara
and Ken's retirement party at the end of June met with frustration. Mary
had planned to travel with Lesley, stopping one night at Lois' home in
Santa Monica and another night at the home of a friend of Lesley. The
 401

plans had to be cancelled at the last minute because Lesley thought she
would not be able to take the trip. Her husband, Alec, was to undergo
emergency surgery at that time. As it turned out, the surgery was
cancelled, but too late to reinstate the original itinerary. Once again,
Mary and Lois postponed their visit. Lesley and Mary were able, however,
to drive down to Long Beach for the retirement celebration.
Ken had been the parish minister at the church in Long Beach for
eleven years. His congregation had grown over the years of his ministry
and the church body was sorry to see him and Barbara leave. To show
their gratitude for his and Barbara's services and to express their
affection, the parishioners were giving the couple a six week vacation in
England. This would be in September and October. First Ken and Barbara
would move to their new home at Pilgrim Place, a retirement community in
Claremont, California.
The family gathering for the farewell celebration included all four
adult children of the Coates. There were: Carol from Wisconsin; Lynne
from Oregon; Jim and David from the Bay Area. Then there were the
grandchildren: Carol's daughters, Katie and Laura (14 and 8 years old,
respectively); Lynne's girls, Emily (9 years old) and Alice (4 years
old); Jim's sons, Benjy (6 years old), and Julian (3 years old). Ken's
brother also came. Altogether, the party numbered 15.
Jim brought his guitar and played the song he wrote for Mary,
accompanied on the piano. The entire family group attended a picnic
lunch in the park on Saturday.
The festive reunion at the church on Saturday night was well
attended. Mary thoroughly enjoyed it. She and Lesley had to leave early
 402

Sunday morning. David managed to find time, while in the area, to visit
an archeological museum in Ventura. He wanted to see the Chinese digs on
display there. He also squeezed in a side trip to the art and history
museums in los Angeles. Mary was gratified to find him so motivated.

Professional Pursuits
Before the month of June was over Mary had a visit from her old
friend and colleague, Frances Carp. This was both a meeting about
professional matters and a social occasion (see Appendix F, item 146).
Mary began looking forward to writing a chapter for the new book that Dr.
Carp is planning (see para. 4ff~

In her letter (para. 2), Dr. Carp offers a suggestion not unlike
the one made by Mary's psychiatrist, when he suggested that she might
find it enlightening to keep a journal. Mary was not sure she wanted to
follow through on either of these suggestions, however. She thought,
instead, that she might prefer trying her hand at creative writing.

Mid-Summer at Samarkand

A Visit Back in Berkeley

Fourth of July at Samarkand 1 ived up to the hol iday's 1 ively
traditions. There was a poem about the Statue of Liberty. Residents
gathered with their families and friends for a barbecue lunch and
afterwards many enjoyed sWimming in the pool. Among the pool swimmers
were Mary's great-granddaughters, Emi ly and Alice, up from long Beach,
where they were still visiting their grand-parents, Ken and Barbara.
 403

Mary came back to visit on Shasta Road for a few days towards the
end of July. She traveled up from Santa Barbara with Lesley. While
Lesley attended an all day outing at a Nature Conservancy meeting in
Marin, Mary spent the day vi s i ti ng 01 d fri ends, co11 eagues, and
neighbors. Among those she saw was Dr. Jean Macfar1 ane, who fits all
three categories.
On Sunday afternoon Mary had a tea at her home for friends and IHD
associates. There were about a dozen attending; among them were several
from the Sanfords' potl uck supper group.
The following day Mary visited the IHD and saw the Eichorns, among
others. Mary was able to bring Dorothy Eichorn up-to-date on news about
study members whom Mary had spoken to on their birthdays, since she moved
to Santa Barbara. Dr. Eichorn will re1ay this information to Dr. John
Clausen, whom Mary missed seeing on this visit.
On Tuesday, July 22nd Marge Lozoff and her daughter, Betsy, drove up
to Berkeley from Pa loAlto to see Mary. Betsy had come out, from her
home in Cleveland, to visit her parents. She was very fond of Mary and
was delighted to join her mother on this excursion. Marge and Mary had a
tete-a-tete while Betsy was attending to other errands in Berkeley and
while Lesley was out. When the two daughters returned to the house on
Shasta Road, all four had a delightful visit together over lunch. Then,
the following day Mary and Lesley returned to Santa Barbara.
It was after this visit back home that Mary came to the firm
decision to sell her house. Lesley, joined by Barbara, would return to
Berkeley the first week in August to place the house on the market.
Lesley handled the placement of the home with a real estate agent. She
 404

chose a woman who had been a psychologist.

Now David, who had lived with his grandmother, Mary, for about five
years, woul d have to look for a new home. Hi s mother, Barbara, spent
some time helping him do this, although eventually he found an apartment
through his friends at work. He lived there in a house with two other
young men. David's move was in November 1986, about three months after
his parents moved into their new place, the retirement community in
Claremont. After the Coateses moved in, they left for their six week
sojourn in Engl and.

Return to Samarkand
After the visit to Berkeley, upon returning to Samarkand, Mary found
that her new friends had missed her while she was away. They were glad
to have her back in their midst.
One of them, a woman originally from Georgia, had painted with
watercolor and oils. Mary found this new friend, whose name was Grace,
most congenial. She and Grace had breakfast together al most every day.
Grace's son was a poet and an English professor at UCSB. Another of
Mary's new friends was Mildred, who had taught at the School for the
Blind and the Deaf in Berkeley. Another was Peggy, who had worked at the
Huntington Museum in Los Angeles. She was an alumna of Radcliffe. Mary
found all of these women pleasant companions and stimulating, interesting
people.
It was in the summer of '86 that Mary became acquainted with a
fellow-alumnae of Vassar. This woman had been a student at that college
nine years after Mary had graduated. Mary and she met at one of the
 405

meetings Mary attended since moving to Santa Barbara. Mary looked

forward to the possibility of attending some Vassar Alumnae club
gatherings with this new acquaintance.
Soon after returning from Berkeley, Mary attended a get-together at
Samarkand for new residents. This gave her an opportunity to meet and
mingle with others who came to Samarkand about the same time as she, and
Mary enjoyed this chance to enlarge her circle of acquaintances.

An Important Letter
Around this time, in mid-summer, Mary had a letter from Jim. He
wrote about some serious meditating he had been doing over a recent
weekend. This experience led him to take a new direction in his life.
He decided that he would like to return to college. He would like to
study psychology, with the intention of becoming an clinician. His plan
was to attend Hayward State College, not too far from where he lives in
Oakland. Mary said she would help him finance his college education.
In the same letter Jim told Mary about some of his dietary
practices. He favors a grain and vegetable diet, although he is not a
vegetarian. He also wrote about his enjoyment of nature, especially bird-
watching.

The Importance of Letters

Louise's letters, which continued to arrive regularly, often with
some of her beautiful nature notes enclosed, always brought Marya great
deal of pleasure.
In like manner, letters from colleagues whom Mary has known through
the years were a source of gratification. One such colleague is Dr. Jack
 406

Block (see above, pp.388 and 389). Mary and he corresponded qu l t e

frequently. In the summer of 1987 Mary mentioned visiting with him on
the telephone, a happy occasion.
A note that warmed Mary·s heart around this same time came from two
other colleagial friends of many years standing, the Eriksons (see
Appendix F, item 147~

Referring again to her psychiatrist·s thoughts about journal-

keeping, Mary said she would rather spend her time writing letters to
friends and family than writing down her thoughts and feel ings about
being old. Writing to others and receiving letters in exchange rivaled
the pleasure Mary took in visiting face-to-face or over the telephone.
Interpersonal exchange was very satisfying, and more appealing than
journal keeping. So it seemed to Mary at this time.

August 1986 in Santa Barbara

In a letter dated August 21, 1986, Mary says, IIToday Jane is taking
me to the beach - she and lesley will have lunch with me at Samarkand. 1I
This three generational outing: two mothers and two daughters; one
grandmother and one granddaughter, gave pleasure to all three of them.
Several days later, on Sunday, August 24th, as Mary was walking back
to her apartment from breakfast, she fell. In fall ing she bruised both
of her eyes, livery symmetrically,·· said Mary.
The walkway was not symmetrical, however. The bricks were lain
somewhat unevenly. luckily, someone saw Mary fall and called to the
waiters in the dining room. They ran to help Mary to her feet, and took
her, in a motorized cart, to the Health Center at Samarkand. From there
 407

Lesley was telephoned. She came at once to take her mother home with
her. Mary stayed with Lesley several days, until she felt able to return
to her own apartment. Once back at Samarkand, Mary had a lot of company.
A number of her friends dropped by to see her and some of them told her
about the falls from which they, too, have recovered.
The following week, when Mary went to see her doctor, she was
surprised to find him wearing a sling over his shoulder. He told her
that he had also had a fall, bruising his clavicle. He had fallen off a
horse. It was somewhat comforting to realize that even her young
physician was not impervious to pitfalls from the pull of gravity.
Another accident, this one fatal, befell a friend of Lesley. This
woman, whom Lesley knew from earlier years when they had both lived in
Berkeley, was a dear friend whose death Lesley mourned. The woman had
visited Lesley quite recently, which was a comfort. She was travel ing
from Carmel to her home in Los Angeles, and stopped off in Santa Barbara
to see Lesley. Not long afterwards, she met with a fatal automobile
accident. Had she survived, she would have spent the remainder of her
life as a paraplegic.

An Important Birthday
Mary was looking forward to her 90th birthday. For one reason, she
said, IIJim is coming down to see me,"
As the day approached, her apartment became resp1endant with
bouquets -- begonias from Marge, roses, and many other varieties from
friends near and far. Mary appreciated all the expressions of love and
good wishes. She said that even her black eyes celebrated the occasion
 408

by "fading awayl"
The study members deluged Mary with birthday greetings in the form
of letters, cards, and notes. She spent a lot of time after her birthday
in answering these expressions of love and affection. It would be hard
to overestimate how much Mary cherished these messages. After all, the
OGS members came into Mary's life when they were youngsters of 10 years
or so, in grade school. Now, most of them are grandparents and at least
two are great-grandmothers. In trying to put her feelings about the
study members into words, she has said, "Because of the study and my
relationship with the people in it, I have come to know and be friendly
with many, many people that I would never have been able to know
otherwise. I am very fortunate" (see Appendix F, item 148).

Another Accident
Mary fell again, not qUite three weeks after her birthday; it was on
September 18th, to be precise. This accident occurred while Mary was
wal king back to her apartment from the dining room at Samarkand after
dinner that evening. This time the injury was more incapacitating. The
ankle of Mary's left leg was broken in several places. To repair the
damage Mary had to wear a cast on her leg for a number of weeks.
In the early period of recuperation, Mary spent the nights in the
Health Care Center at Samarkand. She wrote in a letter dated September
29th:
I'm in a wheelchair I try to come to my apartment after
lunch until 4 pm My leg will heal, but I don't like being
in a "nursing home" which is what the "Health Center" amounts
to!
Should I have kept my house and had help come in?
 409

Lesley and I are considering alternatives. She goes to

Denver next week; so I'll have to "l earn" to 1ive unti 1 she
returns and my 1eg "hea1s," I have a doctor' s appointment
Thursday - Hope 11m doing well -
I love being at 355W [the apartment] if only temporarily
part of a day - many of my associates at the Health Center
are permanently "out of this world."
Small wonder that Mary felt some twinges of doubt about her decision
to leave her home. One of the decisive factors for the move was the
Health Center component at Samarkand. Now that she faced an emergency
requiring that she use that facility, Mary found it difficult to endure.
Getting well was not an easy task at best, and the depressing environment
at the Center made it even more difficult. Fortunately, she was only in
the Health Center for a wee~ After that she stayed with Lesley until
she was well enough to return to her own place.
At first Mary spent about six hours a day sitting in a wheelchair
with the injured leg extended, parallel to the floor. By the end of the
first week in October, she was able to walk again, but she could manage
only a few yards down the hallway, placing some of her weight on the
injured foot, which was still in a cast. This cast was new, replacing
the ori gi nalone. I t had a brace under the arch of her foot to
facilitate walking. Mary said her doctor told her that the hardest part
of the healing process would occur after the removal of the cast. The
ankle would tend to swell as she put her full weight upon that leg. She
understood that she would actually be learning how to walk again. To
help Mary in this relearning process a physical therapist visited her
regularly several times a week. She experienced some pain, but it was
endurable; in part, perhaps, because Mary was looking forward to having
 410

the cast removed by the end of the month.

Convalescing
In the meantime, Lesley found a way to bring her mother's telephone
within easy reach of her chair, enabling Mary to visit with friends at a
distance while she was housebound. Lois, Maris roommate from Vassar
days, was one friend to whom Mary especially enjoyed talking during this
per-ted, Lois had been suffering recently from a severe arthritic attack.
Now her pain had subsided, and Mary was cheered to find her friend's
spirits correspondingly lifted.

A New Companion
It became apparent that Mary would need additional assistance.
Lesley asked Mary's psychiatrist if he could recommend anyone, and he
suggested a woman with whom he was acquainted. She turned out to be
busy, but her son Tom had recenly arrived in town. Both Mary and Lesley
interviewed mother and son, with Mary taking the lead.
It was Mary who decided that she would like Tom to assist her. She
hired him on a flexible schedule, which turned out to be about five days
a week. Occasionally, when Tom needed a day off, his mother or his
sister would substitute for him.
Mary and Tom were remarkably compatible. Mary appreciated his many
acts of kindness. For exampl e, Mary remarked with pleasure that Tom
brought her commemorative stamps of T.S. Eliot. As time went by, Mary
became acquainted with Tom's fiancee. Mary and Lesley were invited to
have Thanksgiving dinner with Tom and other members of his family in his
parents' home. This was an occasion Mary enjoyed very much.
 411

Soon Tom's responsibil ities expanded to include typing and other

secretarial tasks. He became more than a trusted employee and companion.
He was a devoted friend.

Family Visit
October 30th was a special day for Mary. The last cast was removed
from her leg, exactly six weeks after the accident. The physical
therapist would continue visiting with some regularity to help Mary with
exercises appropriate to this phase of her recovery, and Mary would need
to use a cane for a while, but the cast was off!
Barbara came for a visit the last week in October. She had recently
returned from Ken and her sojourn in England. Later, Mary's nephew, Jack
Cover, came up the coast with his daughter who was exploring the
possibil ity of attending U.C. Santa Barbara. He and his daughter took
this occasion to visit Mary, staying for the weekend with Lesley. Mary
joined them for lunch at Lesley's.
Early in November Mary had another visitor. Her grandson, Jim,
drove down to Santa Barbara from Oakland, bringing a U-Haul van with
Mary's dining room table in it for Lesley. This was the table that
Harold had built. Mary was glad that the table would be kept in the
family. Stopping over the weekend at Lesley's place gave Jim a chance
for a good reunion with Mary.
Mary received 1etters from other fami ly members too far away to
visit at this time. She mentioned hearing from her granddaughter, Lynne,
during this period. This was the young woman who had accompanied Mary to
Europe in 1966.
 412

Between family, friends and professional associates, Mary received

dozens of cards, notes and letters. She mentioned hearing from Len
Krassner at this time. Dr. Krassner is well-known in the field of
behavioral medicine. Formerly on the faculty at Stony Brook, the State
University of New York on Long Island, he is now teaching at Stanford.
Mary said that Dr. Krassner was from Cal ifornia originally and had now
returned to his home state. She was delighted to hear from him.
At this time, Mary also heard from a woman in Germany who is writing
a biography of the late G. V. Hamilton. He was the psychiatrist whose
early study of married couples Harold and Mary participated in as
subjects when they 1ived in New York in the 1920s. Later, Dr. Hami 1ton
moved to California and Mary's sister, Louise, worked for him for awhile.
Dr. Hamilton had left some of his papers to Dr. Harold Jones, and Mary
had kept them through the years. Now Dr. Hamilton's biographer was
writing to Mary for information she might be able to contribute to the
biography. Mary was sorting through the file, selecting from among these
unpublished papers, letters and poems those she thought it appropriate to
send to the woman in Germany.

Professional Obligations Closer to Home

Mary continued, throughout this period of recovery, taking
responsibility for birthday greetings to the OGS members. November, she
noted, 1s a month studded with study members' birthdays, and she was busy
making telephone calls to those who were celebrating November birthdays.
One of the study members sent Marya manuscript at this time which he had
wri tten about a 1engthy psychoana Iys i s he had undergone. He wanted to
 413

share this experience with Mary.

Back in the Swim

Mary now felt able to return to her classes and she was eager to do
so. She enjoyed writing about her retirement for some class assignments
and hoped to be able to use some of the material in the book that Dr.
Frances Carp was planning to compile.
Mary·s leg was much improved. She still took the Samarkand bus to
and fro between her apartment and the dining room at mealtimes, but she
was able to visit her psychiatrist again. His office was two flights
above ground in a walk-up building. Mary said these stairs were
"terrific", but the climb worth it. She added that she would see him
"again, in two weeks - I need him."
On November 26th, Mary·s friend, Grace, was having a 95th birthday
celebration. The party was in the home of a friend, and another friend
who 1ived in Samarkand offered Mary a ride to the home of the hostess.
Mary remarked that Grace is in excellent health, although her vision is
failing. This is especially unfortunate, since Grace is a water-
colorist. Mary said that Grace told her she had "found therapy in
painting" after the death of her daughter years ago in Georgia, where
Grace used to 1ive.

Saying Farewell to the Family Home

Whi 1e Mary was busy at Samarkand, lesl ey rode up to the Bay Area
with Jim. She would spend about a week in the house on Shasta Road,
doing all that is involved in getting a property ready to place on the
market. Barbara came up, too, to help her sister with the final packing.
 414

Jim would join in this task, and David was there as well, preparing for
the move to his new quarters in Oakland.
As the four of them worked together, they shared the experience of a
final leave-taking of the family homestead. This was the place where
Barbara and lesley had grown into adulthood; where each young woman had
her weddin~ Jim had his own memories of this place, the home of his
grandparents. It was Jim who suggested that they, the six of them
present -- Barbara, lesley, David, Jim and his two young sons, Benjy and
Julian -- say a family farewell to the home that had meant so much to
each one of them throughout their lives. Everyone entered into the
spirit of the occasion and spontaneously agreed to Jim's suggestion.
In a house now bare, except for packing boxes ready to be
transported to new destinations, the family members built a fire in the
fireplace for the last time. They picked flowers from Mary's garden,
placing them on the hearth. 'The lovely old brass candlesticks which had
always rested on the mantelpiece, purchased by Mary and Harold in New
York in the 1920s, were packed away. Someone found some unused birthday
cake candles, and gathering around the fireplace, everyone held a lighted
candle as each in turn improvised a leave-taking from the family home.
It was Jim who led them from the hearthside towards the big bay
window that overlooked the tree tops and the San Francisco Bay with Mt.
Tamalpais and the skyline of the City beyond. This view was silhouetted
against the setting sun. Jim made the move just in time, too. The
candles were growing short and everyone's fingers were about to be
burned. Now, as the family faced the view, they blew out the candles,
bringing to a close their farewell to the Berkeley home on Shasta Road
 415

(see Appendix F, item 149 for Jim's recapitulation of some of the

memories evoked and thoughts expressed on this occasion). Later they
shared this experience with Mary.

Christmas Time
As December unfolded Mary became increasingly busy preparing the
annua 1 ho 1i day 1etters for rna i 1 i ng to the study members. She addressed
over a hundred, enclosing a personal note in each.
In mid-December a contract was signed for the sale of Mary's house.
Closing papers flew back and forth via Federal Express. A moving van
arrived a few days prior to the 25th. Mary said, "I'm sorting furniture,
books and clothes brought down from Berkeley -- what a way to celebrate
Christmas! II
Mary spent a quiet Christmas Day with Lesley in her home.
One item from Berkeley that Mary was especially happy to receive was
her car, a Dodge Dart, vintage 1972, and in excellent condition. Barbara
had driven it down from Berkeley so that Tom could use it to take Mary
for appointments with doctors and drive her to and from her classes.
There were pleasure rides as well. One memorable drive was to see the
moontides at 8:30 in the morning on December 31st. These mammoth waves
that rolled in on the beach of Santa Barbara were said to be the highest
ones of the century. Tom drove Mary, with her friend, Grace, along the
tree-lined shore road for several miles as they watched the waves peak,
crest and finally cascade to a foamy, roaring crash along the shore; only
to be pulled back into the deep again, and to repeat the rhythmic
process: A fitting close to the old year.
 416

1987

The new year opened for Mary with letters from loved ones. Among
the first of these came one from Mary's granddaughter, Carol (see
Appendix F, item 150). Carol was Mary's first grandchild; the one whom
Mary took with her to Hawaii in the summer of '65, following the young
woman's graduation from high school. It is clear from Carol's note that

she will cherish her grandmother's silver as a memento of her grandmother

as well as a tangible link to earlier generations in her family.
The partial letter from Jim, Mary's first grandson, evokes a similar
response (Appendix F, item 151). It is surely "the addition to [his]
life" for which Jim is most grateful. David also wrote Mary "a wonderful
letter" in January in which, according to Mary, he told her how much he
missed her presence in his life.
Early in January, Barbara and Ken stopped off at Mary's place en
route to the Earle lectures given annually at the Pacific School of
Rel igion in Berkeley. Barbara looked through the items that ~1ary had
sorted out from the miscellany shipped from Shasta Road. Mary wanted
Barbara to choose any that she might be able to use in the Coates' new
apartment in Claremont. Mary said they found "a lot of things", among
which was a maple chest of drawers and a very old rocking chair. The
Coateses came laden with Christmas gifts and the exchange was, Mary said,
"1 ike a second Christmas."
Lesley's daughter, Jane, came home for a late holiday visit and Mary
said, "Then we had a third Christmas!" While in Santa Barbara, Jane
joined Mary for dinner at Samarkand. Pete came home, too, from Fort
Collins where he is living also, while attending engineering school; so
 417

the hol idays continued for Mary well into the month of January, with

three generations represented at this latest Christmas gathering.

Mary's telephone visits with her brother, John, and his wife, Mary,

continued every Sunday, just as they had through the years when she lived

in Berkeley. Mary also talked to Louise and her husband, Bob, twice a
week on the long distance 1 ine, and Mary and Louise corresponded

regularly as always. Louise and Bob were making plans at this time to

move from their home on the farm to a small apartment in Mariposa which
they were planning to buy. Mary said that the Hills were "in limbo",

waiting to sell the farm. They were putting the farm on the market in
February, hoping to sell it quickly and move into the new condominium in

March.

Mary's leg was healing. The physical therapist still visited, but

only once every other week. Mary said that she still had some back pain

and she still had to use a cane.

A genial treat came Mary's way towards the end of January. Dr.

Wolpe telephoned her for a chat. He had been visiting his daughter in

Media, Pennsylvania. She had just had a baby. Now Dr. Wolpe was

visiting his son in Southern California, before returning to Australia

where he 1i ves,

Two Reunions

As February approached, Mary was looking forward to visiting Lois in

Santa Monica. She and Lois visited often by telephone; at least once

every week. They planned to meet at a restaurant for lunch, since Lois

has Meal s on Wheels del ivered to her routinely now that her arthritis
 418

prevents her cooking. Tom would drive Mary in the Dart, for the visit.
For a number of reasons Mary found the visit disappointing. The
restaurant was busy and noisy. The background of sound made it hard for
Mary to hear Lois. Mary had been looking forward a long time for this
chance to have a leisurely talk face-to-face with her college friend and
the visit did not measure up to Mary's anticipation. Of course Mary was
glad to find Lois in reasonably good health; the pain from her arthritis
had subsided considerably. Just seeing Lois again was a good experience,
too. For actual conversation, however, Mary found the telephone to be
better than meeting face-to-face in a popular restaurant.
Valentine's Day was more rewarding. Mary had always observed this
holiday with pleasure, and this year she enjoyed the Valentine drawings
sent by her great-grandchildren. She festooned her hall door with them
so her neighbors could share them (refer to Appendix F, item 124, second
sentence). She also enjoyed a special Valentine's celebration arranged
by Samarkand.
Towards the end of February Mary was looking forward to another
reunion with another old friend. Marge Lozoff was flying down from Palo
Alto. Marge would stay with Lesley overnight and spend her days at
Samarkand with Mary. Mary said, as the visit grew nearer, "I will love
to see her, but I'm afraid she will find me more decrepit than she
knows. II
Later, when Marge told GEL members about her visit, she described
Samarkand in favorable terms. Mary's apartment, Marge found, was
attractive and homelike, furnished with many of Mary's cherished pieces,
her artifacts and her favorite paintings. Marge's most enthusiatic
 419

response about Mary's new setting, however, was not for the pl ace, but
for the new person in Mary's life, for Tom. Nor was Lesley's role in
this positive outcome lost upon Marge. She was aware of the part Lesley
was playing in making Mary's new setting satisfactory for her.
Nevertheless, Marge sensed that Mary was not "her usual self." She
summed up her uneasy feel ing by saying, "Maybe Mary was coming down with
a bad col d."

A Crisis in Health
In fact, Mary was coming down with a severe case of pneumonia. On
March 7th she was taken to the hospital and put into intensive care.
There were critical moments, and her heart suffered. Lesley felt that
only Mary's strength of will pulled her through. She was in the hospital
for two weeks, then, at Lesley's home. By March 27th Mary was back in
her own apartment and Tom took her to the doctor's office for a check-up
soon after that. On March" 30th the doctor said that Mary no longer
needed oxygen. Her voice was sti 11 quite hoarse, but Mary was on the
mend.

Goodbye to the Family Farm

In the meantime, Mary's sister and brother-in-law, Louise and Bob,
had sold the farm, "Up Yonder." They planned to move into their new
place in Mariposa, not far from Yosemite, in June. Lesley decided to
take her video equipment up to the farm for some film for the family
archives.
Barbara and Ken decided to join Lesley in this pilgrimage. Louise
had written a prose-poem about one of her favorite walks along a wooded
 420

path through the wild flowers. Lesley thought she would like to take
that walk with her Aunt Louise and record it on video, capturing the
theme of the piece on camera.
Meanwhile, Mary and Tom took the responsibility of checking on
Lesley's mail at her house and feeding her two cats.
This trip was taken prior to Mary's bout with pneumonia; Lesley made
a return trip to the farm after Mary's recovery in April. The Hills were
having a garage sale which Lesley wanted to attend. She took the video
along again for any last mementoes of that old family homestead.
Mary, by this time, was much stronger. She was back on her feet by
the end of the first week in April; but she was not well enough to travel
yet. She and Tom, once again, tended to Lesley's cats and took in the
mail.

Maki ng !!Q for Lost Time

Mary kept busy while recuperating. There were files and folders
filled with correspondence that Mary still needed to sort through. Old
letters brought to mind old friends and old acquaintances. Among those
were the Gardner Murphys. Mary remembered that she had known Dr. Gardner
Murphy when she was a graduate student at Col umbi a, before she became
engaged to Harold Jones and prior to Gardner Murphy's meeting and
marrying Lois. Dr. Lois Murphy, now engaged in writing a biography of
her late husband, would receive a letter from Mary sharing some of those
earlier memories with her. There were other letters to write, as well as
get-well cards and notes to acknowledge.
 421

In addition to her correspondence, Mary had to attend to other, less

pleasant matters, such as her income tax return. She also had to prepare
a new will. This was important, since the sale of the house in Berkeley
had changed Maris financial situation in significant ways. An attorney
executed documents for a revokable trust and before that could be done
Mary and lesley discussed the details. It was not all work and no
play, however. There was an important family gathering towards the end
of April. Mary's great granddaughter, Al ice, lynne's younger daughter,
was celebrating her fifth birthday. lynne brought Alice down from Oregon
to celebrate with the little girl's grandparents, Ken and Barbara, and
with Mary. Once again, family members gathered in Les ley's home for
dinner. lesley took videos of the birthday party. Barbara, Ken and
lynne played their recorders for the occasion. Al ice's big gift was a
Cabbage Patch doll. Mary also entertained the gathering for lunch at
Samarkand, before the out-of-town members returned to thei r respective
homes.

! Public Appearance
Before Mary's bout with pneumonia, she had been asked to give two
lectures. The first one would have been sponsored by the Psychology
Department of U.C. Santa Barbara for a small group of counselors in
Ca reer Servi ceo Dr. Robert Sherman woul d have introduced Mary.
Unfortunately, this talk had been scheduled for March 18th, and Mary was
still in the hospital at that time. Previously Mary had been interviewed
in connection with her participation in the Adult Education Program at
U.C. Santa Barbara, and the anticipated tal k was mentioned in the
 422

interview, which was not published until April (see Appendix F, item 152,
p.z), Mary hoped that the tal k could be re-schedul ed,
Another public appearance had been scheduled for Mary prior to her
illness. She had been asked to be the Guest of Honor at a Conference on
Current Behavioral Perspectives, sponsored by The Devereux Foundation
(see Appendix F, item 153, p.a), Since this date was in late May, Mary
had time to regain her strength and prepare adequately for the occasion.
Tom helped her in this preparation. He typed up her notes for the speech
and he listened to her practice the delivery. The time allotted for her
tal k was 15 minutes. Mary hoped to encompass those significant events
that transpired in the field of psychology around the year 1924. At that
time Mary was at the "Children's Home for Happiness," conducting her
research under the guidance of Dr. John Watson. This was the period when
Watson published his work on children's reactions to loud noises. It was
in this publ ication that he cited the "one child out of many hundreds"
who was the exception to the startle reaction he had documented. That
child was Barbara Jones. For Mary's thoughts about this, refer above (p.
232). Watson mentions this exception in a footnote (refer to
Behaviorism, 1924, p.121).
Mary planned to speak about the events in this earlier era that
foreshadowed later developments in the field of behavior therapy. It was
these experiments in de-conditioning that earned Mary the title of
"Mother of Behavior Therapy" conferred by Dr. Joseph Wolpe. He was
referring particularly to Mary's work with 1ittle Peter, helping him
overcome his fear of rabbits and other wooly white objects. (Again, for
details refer above, pp, 241-245). This landmark experiment was
 423

supervised by Dr. John B. Watson. It was quite a large order for 15

minutes. Did she succeed in this endeavor? She said that she thought
she had; at least she remembered all the crucial facts and was able to
tell them within a 17 minute time span. She was disappointed, however,
in one facet of that experience. The person who was moderating the
speakers said that because of a tight schedule and a late start there
would be no time for questions afterwards or for dialogue between the
speaker and members of the audience. Mary missed the interchange that
such a talk-back would have given her. She said that "there was no
relationship" to the group that was listening to her. Mary rallied from
her disappointment by saying that she would "write about the experience"
for her adult education class. There was, however, feedback later. The
speech was well-received (and well donal), Incidentally, Mary stumbled
on the way in, and off the cuff, she started her speech by saying, "Some
people rise to an occasion, I fell to it."[90]

Mother's Q!l and Beyond

Mother's Day brought many greetings Mary's way. There were cards
from great grandchildren; telephone calls from grandchildren, as well as
calls from her nephew, Jack, and his grandson. Mary told Lesley that she
had become more like her mother these days, than the other way round.
In early June Lesley came to Samarkand to celebrate her birthday
with her mother. They had dinner together there. Mary said, "It was
nice for me, but not very exciting for Lesley, I'm afraid!"
During the early weeks of summer, Mary had a number of visitors,
some from out of town. One of these was Ruth Knudsen, whose husband had
 424

been an Acting Director for a time at the IHD. Mary was a guest for tea
in the home of Barbara DeWoolf, Lesley's friend, who had enjoyed so much
her visit with Mary earlier in the year (see Appendix F, item 124).
Sandwiched in between such pleasant interludes were trips to the
doctors for check-ups of eyes and ears, and other mundane chores of daily
living.
The Fourth of July weekend was occasion for another family get-
together. Barbara and Ken came. As Carol had mentioned in her post-
Christmas note in January, she came, too, bringing her family with her:
her husband, David, and their two daughters, Katherine, who was 15, and
Laura, who had recently turned 9. Mary's grandson, Jim, had come down a
day earlier to see Mary, and Benjy and Julian accompanied him.
It was around this time that Mary had a welcome telephone visit with
Dr. Jack Block. She also received a long and much-appreciated letter
from Dr. Deanna Logan, followed by a rewarding telephone visit. Dr.
Logan is the young woman who was Mary's biographer in the early '80s.
She has since become a consulting lawyer-psychologist in San Francisco.
Mary enjoyed the reunion by letter, which brought her up-to-date about
this young woman's new career and her fulfilling life.
As July unfolded, Mary's strength, never fully regained after the
pneumonia, began to wane. Over the weekend of July 18th her health took
a turn for the worse. Mary visited her doctor on the 20th of July. He
told her that she waS gravely ill. The knowledge that she was dying did
not shock Mary. She was prepared. She did not want extreme or heroic
measures taken to prolong her life. She insisted on returning to her own
apartment, or, failing that, to be taken to Lesley's home. She refused
 425

hospitalization. Mary's courage and steadfast conviction prevailed.

The nurses at the Health Center in Samarkand were fond of Mary and
sympathetic to her wishes. They helped arrange for Hospice to supervise
her home care. The only medication Mary took the last few days of her
life was Tylenol, to keep her comfortable. Lesley and Barbara were there
with her most of the time as was Tom. Mary had expected to go quickly
and once asked, "Why is it taking so long? I am meant to be dead." Tom
said, "Yes, you are dying, Mary. It just takes awhile." Death came
quietly to Mary in the afternoon of Wednesday, July 22, 1987.
 426

IN MEMORIAM

In accordance with Mary's request, the family arranged for a

memorial service in Santa Barbara. Those attending were limited to the
immediate family. This was a goodly number, close to twenty-five. Lesley

has written down her thoughts and feelings that she shared with the
family at their service, and kindly offered them for inclusion in this
paper (refer to item 154).[91]

Later, on Wednesday, September 16th at 4 oclock in the afternoon

family and friends, colleagues, associates and OGS members filled the
Great Hall of the Faculty Club on the U.C. Berkeley Campus to share their

memories of Mary.[92] Dr. Dorothy Eichorn, the Associate Director of

the IHD, arranged the memorial service. The first person to speak at

this gathering was Dr. Paul Mussen, the psychologist with whom Mary

worked in the early years at the Institute. They publ ished jointly, in

the late 1950s, their studies on early and late to mature adolescents.
Dr. Dorothy Ei chorn spoke next (refer to Note 87 for one of her

reminiscences). She met Marya few years later than Dr. Mussen. Then
Dr. Marjorie Honzig spoke about her long relationship with Mary at the

IHD, first as a colleague, and later as a close friend. Dr. John Clausen

followed next. He is the sociologist who came as the new Director of the
Institute after Dr. Harold Jones' retirement. As the years rolled by he,
too, grew to know and appreciate Mary as ~ friend as well as a colleague.

Ms. Frances Lynch, representing the OGS members, was the fifth
person who spoke. She quoted from a study newsletter and shared some of
her recollections about the beginning years of the study, speaking of how
 427

much Mary's loving support meant to the youngsters, and how Mary's
presence through the years lent continuity to the OGS. In recalling
other staff people who were present at the time the study began, such as
their counselor, Judy Chaffee, who was both an associate and a friend of
Mary, Ms. Lynch echoed Mary's own memories which Mary had voiced often
through the years.
Following next, Dr. Mussen read a message sent for this occasion by
Dr. Jack Block, who was unable to be present, being out of the country.
Then Dr. Leonard Krassner spoke, telling about his meeting with Mary
relatively late in her life, in 197B, while he was still at Stony Brook.
At that time Dr. Krassner was researching the history of behaviorism, and
he met Mary when interviewing her for that study. He noted, somewhat
parenthetically, that he thought the term "retirement" was "aversive" for
Mary.
Finally, the person to speak last was Mary's old friend from the
early '60s at Stanford, Marjorie Lozoff. Her talk will speak for itself
(refer to Appendix F, item 162). As Marge said, Mary's 1 ife was filled
with work and people she loved. A number of those people were in the
Great Hall that afternoon in mid-September. The loving memories of Mary
that they recalled testified to the truth of Marge's statement. Mary
would have been pleased.
 428

PART III
DISCUSSION

Program Notes

If one were to ask this writer what it is she is trying to say in

the Discussion that follows, she might answer that she is trying to
explain how a successful human being managed her life to bring about that
qual ifying epithet. To do so, she needs to keep the complexities in,
while weeding out extraneous details. In casting about for an organizing
tool that would allow a summation through assessment without losing the
complexity that makes up the essence of that life, the writer discarded
several ideas. One was the metaphor of a focusing lens; a kind of
tel escooe , but that smacks of a 1aboratory di ssection. Then there was
the analogy of a funnel that began with the global mass, as written in
the Narrative (Part II), and gradually sifted down to a manageable,
succinct essential quantity of non-reducible parts; that imagery was too
mechanistic. How about a nest of brocade Chinese boxes, or those
charming wooden carved Russian dolls that nest in one another? No; too
static and too separate. The idea of a portrait came to mind, but,
again, it was too still; almost a "st fl I-Ltfe," It was not appropriate

for the dynamic woman whose life is being presented.

Finally, upon looking into Theodore Sarbin's essays (1977; 1986),
and being led to Pepper's seminal work, World Hypotheses (1942), the
 429

concept of the drama as a metaphor to frame, and hence contain, the

salient details of the life of Mary Cover Jones emerged as the image of
choice. The cogent reasons for that selection are stated in the Prologue
which follows below. One not explicitly stated there (although intended
to be there, implicitly) is that the format of a play allows its author
the license of selecting out scenes and acts that she feels most convey
the vital details of the story, the narrative, the plot. Thus by
el iminating the extraneous detail s, sti 11 embedded in the Narrative;
therefore not lost, she can spotlight the dynamic motivating factors in
the life of the leading character.
The Narrative approaches the style and format of a chronicle, by
intent, and is there as a resource, if the reader of the Discussion needs
it to flesh out the scenes and episodes presented in the drama. This
method is, admittedly, a tour de force. Afterall, at best it is a closet
drama; at worst, a quasi-philosophical, sociological-psychological
explication calling itself a drama. One thing it is not: it is not an
ancient gloomy Greek tragedy, although an echo of one of the more
notorious ones does reverberate through a scene or two, perhaps. It is
not meant to be a comedy, either. This closet drama is a serious attempt
to understand the underlying dynamics of a successful woman's life
course. The goal, somewhat grandiose, to put it bluntly, is to shed a
little light on the meaning of the phrase "a successful life" as that
meaning has been defined in the Proposal (Part I); thereby, 1ifting a
tiny bit the corner of the curtain that envelops human existence like an
opaque veil of perpetual mystery.
 430

One fact that this writer thinks she knows now that she did not
know, or did not see as clearly, before this task was undertaken, is that
human life is connected by many chains, making it reciprocally sensitive.
The genetic and evolutionary chains are basic and obvious. But there are
other, not so obvious ones also present. Broadly speaking, the term
cultural might be used to define these connections, but there are many
interconnecting links in historical, social, political interrelationships
that seem to transcend time and space but actually exist diurnally,
because that is the way human 'beings define their lives and measure them
out. A new thought? Hardly. Once it takes hold of one, however, it is
no longer possible to set arbitrary boundaries around disciplines, and
say IIjust so far and no further will we 100k. 1I Yet, one must draw these
lines to grapple with the infinite with our finite limitations. That is
what the framing mechanism is about. That is also what paradox is about.
To simplify l! to distort. Not to simplify is to inundate and hence to
drop the curtain, ever so slightly, ever so tentatively lifted, back down
again on 1ife's eternal mystery.
Turning now to the early scenes in Part III, that is what they are
about: merging boundaries, Plant's psycho-osmotic envelope that lets in a
little light; as much as the child can tolerate, of the vast cosmos
beyond the nuclear family. That is what Winnicott (1971) talks about in
terms of his paradox of the transitional object. The subject is
ubiquitous and the quest for understanding unending. That it does not
qUite fit into the framing mechanism trying to contain it is not cause
for surprise. The hope is only for a little clarification, not the
casting of a deeper shadow.
 431

And so the curtain rises, after the Prologue, which is read in front
of that curtain. The Backdrop is the first scene. It has the purpose in
a play of decoratively hiding the creaking machinery behind the stage,
to which the viewer/reader is being introduced, in these Program Notes.
The first scene painted on the surface of the Backdrop is Mary's lineage,
fleshing out the bare bones of the genealogical chart (Appendix F, item
1) a little bit. Why? Because it seems to this writer that Mary was,
in a number of ways, the 1iving embodiment of that 1ineage, her
pioneering spirit being only one of the most obvious similarities. Those
forebears illustrate, through their 1ives, some of the best aspects of
the country they came to populate, with courage and fortitude.
They embodied the historic strength of pioneers -- those that
founded our democratic government and those that settled our land,
tilling it and toiling to build towns and industries that thrived in
them. They live on through all of us, of course. But Mary had more of
them on this soil earlier than most of us. And it is the life of Mary
that this focus is on. These folk in particular mattered to her. She
brought the newspaper clippings to this interviewer/writer, by way of the
self-appointed family archivist, her brother John. She wondered if they
should be included in Appendix F, or would that Appendix become too
burdensome? This writer did not think so. And so connections with long
lost generations and places never visited began to take shape in the mind
of the interviewer/writer. The explanatory hypothesis that began to
emerge went something 1ike this: Mary's 1ife contains part of another
world, foreign to the one she is now inhabiting, but not totally lost
because parts of it live on in her, and probably in her children and
 432

grandchildren, and so on down the chambers of time. Some of these heirs

of that shared past may be, or may become, aware of that heritage of a
world that seems "gone with the wind." Some people, Bell ah's research
team (Habits of the Heart), for example, want to recapture some of those
old-fashioned strengths, the communal bonds, in particular, to help heal
what they feel to be a very sick world. Mary believed in healing. She
gave a large part of her life to that task. Some details of that gift
precede (Narrative) and follow (Discussion) these Notes. Therefore, the
details, few and sketchy as they may be, of Mary's forebears have a
meaningful place in a Discussion that is trying to shed light on the
meaning of Mary's 1ife.
The next scene, still part of the Backdrop, the Foundation, is not a
dramatic term, as such. But then, the drama is only a framing metaphor.
The Foundation is meant to be the base upon which the values that
informed Mary's life and the lives of her parents and siblings, and other
extended family members, rests. Admittedly, that is an old-fashioned
idea and Mary herself would probably think so. It is not really,
however, totally terra incognita, even in the 1990s. Religion is pretty
center stage in our society today. The battles it is waging are not
always identified by their true colors. They are often fought under
political banners. For we are a country founded in large measure on the
principle of religious freedom; a peaceful idea, in its conception.
Therefore we do not fight religious battles.
It is the conviction of this writer that the religious background of
Mary's parents pl ayed a major part in her 1 ife. If Mary's mother had
been a pietist evangelical Puritan and if her father had been a New
 433

England Puritan (Cotton Mather rather than John Winthrop style), the
incident of the Teddy Bear might not have been resolved the way it was
(looking ahead on the Outline to The Tale of Two Toys under Center
Stage) •
There is nothing objecti ve about biography. The enti re weight of
the Proposal (Part I) suggests otherwise. Therefore, the best one can do
is be aware of one1s biases. That does not remove them. It simply opens
them to view and to assessment. It is this writer's conviction that
these matters matter. They help shape the personality of everyone of us.
They inform child rearing practices, as well as less concrete matters,
but none more important for the developing human being than those that
determine how the child is reared.
The Setting is next on stage. JOhnstown is the first scene. Even
though Mary left her home town when she went away to college, she took a
lot of Johnstown with her, to the everlasting glory of Johnstown. Some
of the Setting has been introduced above, under the Foundation. That is
because Mary's forebears began their journey to the new world several
generations prior to her arrival on stage. Nevertheless, the gene pool
was there, awaiting her arrival. The influences, also, that were broadly
cultural -- religious, philosophical, political -- those issues addressed
in Bellah et al., the best selling non-fiction book of 1986, awaited
Mary1s arrival as well. One of the striking aspects of that influence is
addressed under the scene called Two Languages with Variations. Mary's
strong socialization needs are mentioned in this section as possibly
related to the cultrural milieu of this small town community in which she
was reared. Later in the Discussion another, perhaps more
 434

psychologically persuasive dynamic for those needs will be suggested.

The point being made here is that personality and character structure are
interwoven with social forces, which reinforce, counterbalance and
interact in complex ways with psychological determinants of a more
interpersonal nature from early life and intimate family experiences, to
mold a 1ife course. Just how this happens can not easily be
demonstrated, but that it happens is almost simplistically obvious. For
that reason, such influences need to be placed on stage and recognized,
even if not explained.
Turning to the next scene, The Flood, the big point here is that it
happened a 1ittle over seven years prior to Mary's birth, and must have
had some impact on her early surrounding environment. Just how that
influence may have been played out is discussed under this heading.
The last scene under the heading of The Setting is about the
courtship of Mary's parents. It is interesting as an example of a family
myth qua secret. Secrets are the name given to stories, myths, anecdotes
or facts that everyone (more or less) knows, but which each chooses not
to confront one another with openly for varied reasons. In the case of
the Cover-Higson courtship myth there are at least two variants, John's
and Mary's.
At this point in the Discussion the stage is almost set for Mary's
arrival on the scene. It remains only to sharpen the focus on Mary's
parents and bring John onto the stage. The next act, called Foreground,
would be in close-up, if the image of choice were a movie rather than a
play, featuring the three members of Mary's family that would be there
when she ; s born.
 435

The Envelope, which serves to introduce this scene, is a compelling

and moving figure of speech that describes that part of the personality
that negotiates between the self and the environment, selecting out of
the surrounding outer world what it will take into itself and then
translating that part taken in "into usable or understandable material,"
explains Plant.
Winnicott (1971) has said something similar:
Of every individual who has reached to the stage of being a
unit with a limiting membrane and an outside and an-inside,
it can be said that there is an inner reality to that
individual, an inner world that can be rich or poor and can
be at peace or in a state of war. (p.2)
Mary's earl iest memories support the positive side of the
alternative Winnicott offers. She expresses her sense of intimacy with
her love and the feeling that she was loved.
This section of the family drama is meant to introduce Mary as its
newest member and give the reader a sense of the atmosphere, the
emotional climate, that pervades Mary's early childhood, as she began to
participate in family life, and as her relationships unfolded between her
and her mother, then her father and John as well. These memories reflect
Mary's first four years, before the birth of her sister, Louise.
Opening Act picks up on the theme of autonomy, which follows in the
path prepared by the early successful mothering that Carrie gave Mary.
It is now Mary's father's turn. He assumes the role with his daughter
that enables her to develop a sense of freedom to achieve; to "get
ahead," to borrow Mary's own phrase for her father's facilitating role,
in the world beyond the threshold of her home. A few paragraphs are
devoted to the outer conditions, beyond the early enveloping environment
 436

in the home, that would impinge on Mary's entry into and negotiating
through the institutions of higher learning that her choices would
dictate. The earlier details of Mary's life between the pre-school years
and entry into college are told in some detail in the Discussion without
undue redundancy.
A section of Opening Act, fleall it Oedipal," which is a quotation of
a phrase that Mary used to support her conviction that she was her
father's favorite child, is included in the Opening Act. This is an
appropriate place to cite it because it relates to Mary's relationship
with her father. This relationship lays the groundwork for her ability
to negotiate a career in life beyond that of wife and mother. These
interactions between father and daughter were occurring as Mary was
growing and developing into adolescence and young womanhood with close
gender identity with her mother. Doubtless her identification with her
mother was strengthened by her recognition that her father appreciated
her as a female person, at the same time encouraging her to take
advantage of any opportunities for self-development that came her way and
that appealed to her. Again Plant's "surefootedness" was being confirmed
and strengthened.
The rose motif (symbolizing early maturing) introduced as a sub-
section of Opening Act, could have become a crippling liability in Mary's
psychological development. Instead it led Mary to a 1ifelong
intellectual interest. The physiological trait of early maturing caused
Mary some discomfort socially at a relatively early age. She was aware
that she was entering a stage of 1ife that most of her peers in grade
school would not experience for at least another year or so. This placed
 437

her out-of-step in the socialization process which was very important to

her. Although Mary never expressed this idea, it occurs to this writer
that her concerns around thi s issue could have been one of the reasons
she was drawn to psychology, especially child development. It became the
focus of some of her most important research endeavors, and remained an
interest of hers into the last years of her life.
The focus of interest shifts again, this time to an issue that takes
Center Stage in motivational importance in Mary's life. Mary will spend
her job-related years motivated by a desire to be helpful. How her
choice of psychology emerges out of early experiences with her sister
that led her to feel jealous and competitive is developed in this section
of the Discussion under the heading A Teddy Bear. This entire act,
called Center Stage, is the most salient for understanding the intra-
psychic dynamics of Mary's personality. That she is able to adapt to the
challenges she faces around the issues of love, anger and guilt and work
out her frustrations in the ultimately creative and life-fulfilling way
that she does, rests on the kind of total environment in which she was
reared, as well as in the wise and loving way her mother handles these
particular issues. The Teddy Bear is used as a prototypical example of a
pattern that must have occurred over several years of early childhood.
This section of the Discussion is placed in the position of Center
Stage because it weaves together the threads of Mary's 1ife experience
and the patterns that she has developed in relating to and integrating
those experiences in her formative early years. Those successful 1ife
patterns continue throughout her 1ife. The other symbol ic figure, The
Enduring 0011, represents that adaptational mode that Block calls the
 438

assimilative strategy which provides continuity to an individual's

personality.
This act is the culmination of the analysis of Mary's life,
especially the intra-psychic modus operandi. Were this a play of
tragedy, rather than a closet drama, this act, called Center Stage, would
be the climax and turning point. The final section, Play 1! the Thing,
will be this writer's best attempt to deal with the paradox of 1ife as
seen through different personality theorists' views about play, and its
creative role in the human personality. The focus, of course, is on
understanding Mary's 1ife.
The next act, Denouement, looks at Mary's late years, as the so-
called aging process accelerates and sensory losses, as well as other
vicissitudes of aging increase, and the end of her 1ife approaches and
finally overtakes her.
The Epilogue will close this paper with excerpts from the three
poems that sum up what this writer believes about Mary's way of life.
 439

Prologue

Obviously, the idea of mind as an instrument of construction

is (or shoufd""be) congen~to the developmental psychologist
who observes different meanings being assigned
to the same "event" at different ages.
Jerome Bruner (1986, p.97)

Coming to terms with any life is a formidable task. Attempting to

do so with a life such as that of the late Mary Cover Jones, long and
fully 1ived, is daunting, indeed. By definition, to simp1 ify is to
distort, but editing is required. Mindful of the warning from Runyan
(l982) against "r eductionism" (see Part I, pp.147-148), a word of
clarification is offered prior to the attempt.
According to local authorities of some renown, metaphor is "perhaps
the key to giving an adequate account of understanding" (Lakoff &
Johnson, 1980, ix).[93] Since understanding is the goal, metaphors may
help lead the way. Metaphor, therefore, as an intentional organizing
principle, will be employed throughout the balance of this paper.
The framing metaphor to follow is that of a play: the drama of life.
Borrowing from Stephen C. Pepper's seminal work, World Hypotheses (1942;
1961), Theodore Sarbin has written two articles that have influenced
this choice: "Contexttia1ism: A World View for Modern Psycho1 0gy" (1977)
and "The Narrative as a Root Metaphor for Psycholoqy" (1986).
In the article on Contextual ism, Sarbin refers to the late George A.
Kelly and his theory of personality called "Persona1 Constructs," from
 440

the mid-1950s. Sarbin sees Kelly's theory as a somewhat fragile bridge

between "the root metaphor of the machine [and]._a model that emphasizes
context" (p.z),

Pepper explains his use of the term "root metaphor" in a 30 page

chapter in which the following few lines are embedded:

A man desiring to understand the world looks about for a clue

to its comprehension. He pitches upon some area of
commonsense fact and tries if he cannot understand other
areas in terms of this one. This original area becomes then
his basic analogy or root metaphor. (p.91)

Pepper proposes four hypotheses as root metaphors which he believes are

fairly adequate for understanding our world, and he defines and explains

each in some detail. Of these four it is the one he calls

"Contextualism" that Sarbin suggets "is a most fruitful world view for

students of the human condition, including personality psychologists"

(p.2). Sarbin then proceeds to give brief summaries of each of the four
that Pepper has explained in detail. Sarbin also suggests psychological
heirs of each of these views (pp.5-7). For "Formism," the term that

Pepper applies to the philosophical views of Plato, Aristotle and the

Sc h 01 as tic s , Sa r bin cite s asp s y c h01 0 gi cal f 0110 we r s the ear 1y

structuralists and contemporary personality trait theorists.

"Mechanism", which Sarbin suggests is the "dominant world view in modern

western civil ization" (p.6) is associated historically with philosophers
such as Democritus, lucretius, Gal ileo, Descartes, Berkeley and Hume.

From this philosophical orientation the behaviorist school developed.

The third philosophical position which Pepper calls "organicism",
represented philosophically by Hegel, Bradley and Royce, among others",

according to Sarbin, is the school from which modern developmental

 441

psychologists who depend on the notion of stages of maturation have come.

Sarbin names, al so, Maslow, Rogers and K. Gol dstein as members of thi s
branch.

Pepper himself chooses "the historic event" as "The best term out of

common sense to suggest the point of origin of "Contextual f sm" (p. 232).

He al igns this world hypothesis, or "root met apho r ," with the

pragmatists, notably C. S. Peirce, William James and John Dewey. To

these philosophical forebears Sarbin adds George Herbert Mead. Pepper

suggests that the root metaphor 1I0rganicismll is "so nearly allied [to
"Contextual ism") that they may almost be called the same theory, the one

with an integrative, the other a dispersive pl an" (p.147).

In Sarbin's more recent work Narrative Psychology: The Storied

Nature of Human Conduct (1986), he states, in the Introduction and

Overview, that he, like many of his contemporaries in social

psychological research became "disillusioned with... theorizing carried

out under the guiding postulates of pos tt tvt sm" (p.tx), This led him to

search for new metaphors, as he abandoned the old "worn out...mechanical,

spati a 1, and ener-qy" ones. At fi rst he used drama as a source,

describing and explaining social behavior as II r ol e enactmentll{p.ix).

Then, says Sarbin, IIFrom the drama as a basic metaphor to the narrative

was but a short step. Since the drama is embedded in narrative.~ .11

Sarbin credits his encounter with Hayden White's Metahistory,

published in 1973, as the facilitating influence leading him in the

direction of narrative. It was White's demonstration that history

writing was a form of storytelling ll that convinced him that lithe

narrative process could be applied to psychological ane lys ts" (o.tx),

 442

White (1978) says, in an article written in 1974, that III am

here... invoking the distinctions between sign, symbol and icon that C. S.
Peirce developed in his philosophy of language. I think that these
distinctions will help us to understand what is fictive in all putatively
realistic representations of the world and what is realistic in all
manifestly fictive ones" (p.52).[94]
Somewhat further along, in elucidating what he means by "symbol ic
and iconic aspects of a metaphor, II White adds:
The hackneyed phrase limy love, a rose" is not, obviously,
intended to be understood as suggesting that the loved one is
actually a rose (p.52). ...It is meant to be understood as
indicating that the beloved shares the qualities which the
rose has come to symbolize in the customary linguistic usages
of Western cul ture. (p.53)
White then proceeds to explain in some detail the difference between a
chronicle of historical events and the historian's interpretation of
those events, which must be kept in chronological order while, at the
same time, 1I••• requ i r i ng description and characterization as elements of
plot or argument by which to give them meaning ll (p.54). White continues,
pointing out that the history (or story or narrative) is not only about
events IIbut also about the possible sets of relationships that those
events can be demonstrated to figure ll (p. 55). Then he adds, IIThese
sets of rel ationships are not, however, immanent in the events
themselves; they exist .Q!!.!.l in the mind of the historian reflecting them
(emphasis added). IIHere they are presented as the modes of relationships
conceptualized in the myth, fable and folklore, the scientific knowledge,
religion, and literary art of the historian's own cul ture" (p.55).
 443

Returning to Sarbin and his choice of the narrative as a root

metaphor, rather than Pepper's historic event or his own prior choice of
the drama and its role enactment, the reader may wonder why the present
writer chooses the play, instead. Not simply, let it be stated, because
Mary's chronicle of her life, as told to this interviewer/writer has been
entitled "Narrative" and this last section of a three part paper is
entitled "Discussion", but rather for two other factors. The first rests
upon Pepper's own description of the root metaphor he calls
"Contextual ism". He states:
To give instances of this root metaphor in our language with
the minimum risk of misunderstanding, we should use only
verbs. It is doing, and enduring, and enjoying: ... laughing
at a joke, persuading an assembly, unraveling a mystery,
solving a problem, exploring a country, communicating with a
friend, creating a poem.... These acts or events are all
intrinsically complex, composed of interconnected activities
with continuously changing patterns. They are like incidents
in the plot of a novel or drama. They are literally the
inc i dents of 1i fee (pp.232-233)
It is Pepper's emphasis on action, first, that predisposes the
choice of a play over the narrative, a more static concept. Second, this
writer is convinced that Mary's life, notwithstanding her academic
profession, was more characterisically active than contemplative. It is
this view of the dynamism of her personality that reinforces the choice
of a play, or drama, as the framing metaphor for the discussion about the
narrative of Mary's life. Her life was informed by analytic deliberative
thought and discussion, as well as thoughtful conversation, of course.
But these activities were, in a sense, means to an end: a meaningful,
productive 1ife.
 444

Note, too, the qualifier, "Framing" in the choice of the metaphor of

a play. On a purely personal level, it may add clarity to this choice to
say that it rests, also, on a predilection of this writer to visualize
mental concepts; so that in reading (or hearing or writing) about an
action or behavior or incident, she tends to see the events described as
images or scenes. It may be, then, that it is not so much the frames's
fitting Mary's life as its fitting the writer in question. Let the
reader decide.
In any case, it is the contextual hypothesis that is the basic
foundation for what follows. And that philosophical point of view is
sol idly rooted, as was Mary's 1ife, in the pragmatic bedrock of North
American soil.

Backdrop
Family Beginnings

The Lutheran Line

The earliest ancestor listed on the family tree of Mary Cover Jones
is John Dietrich Cover. Born in 1703, he sailed to the new world in his
27th year, aboard a vessel called "Thistle" (Appendix F, items 2 and 3).
At some unknown date, he married a young woman, Anna Catherine, whose
family name is thought to have been Hoffman. This marriage probably took
place after his arrival in his new homeland, Pennsylvania. The
establishment of the newlyweds' family, in due time, is documented by the
genealogical chart.
 445

John Dietrich Cover is believed to have come from a German port

directly to the North American colonies. Records show a ship named
"Thistle" docked in Philadelphia in 1738 and another, named "Thistle of
Glasgow," was listed as docking in the same port in 1730 (Burgert, 1985,
p.380). These two vessels appear on an index of ships that carried
passengers in the 18th century from Europe and Great Britain to the new
world.
Details beyond these skeletal items are not known. The historian
Bernard Bailyn (1986) states that in the 18th century about 200,000
peopl e emigrated from Southwestern Germany and Switzerl and and "moved
4,000 miles north and then west to such exotic places as the lisland', as
it was commonly called in the villages of the Palatinate of Pennsylvania"
(p.16).[95J
It is noted in the old Tribune clipping that Mr. and Mrs. Adam
Coover (variant spell ing of the family name) "were both members of the
English Lutheran Church all their lives" (see item 2). This man, Adam,
was a grandson of John Dietrich Cover and Mary's great grandfather.
The Tribune article states that property known as the "Coover Farm"
changed hands on May 8, 1792. This was the year following John Dietrich
Cover's death. Some years later, in the first half of the 19th century,
around 1834 to 1844, a Mr. Coover, undoubtedly Adam, purchased several
parcels of land in the environs of what would become Johnstown. It is

clear, from the newspaper report of those old property records, that the
Covers were property holders as early as the late 18th century. The
family continued to own property throughout its history in this new land.
 446

John Cover notes that his grandfather Cover, Adam's son, Will iam,
"was a member of the Cover farmer family of 'Cover Ht l l!" (Appendix F,
item 5, p.z). He did not inherit the property, since the law of
primogeniture prevailed in that era, and William was the second son (see
Narrative, p.155). This was the man who became director of the transfer
station in Johnstown. John makes the point that his paternal grandfather
was IIcompetent and successfu1." It was William Cover's son, Charles, who
saw to it that this Cover branch of the family continued the tradition of
being property owners.
Speaking of his paternal grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Blair Saylor,
John states that she was "alert , intelligent and affectionate."
It is quite clear from the record on the paternal side of Maryls
family tree that she was descended from a long line of Lutherans.

The Anglican and Huguenot Strains

Family tradition has it that on Mary's maternal side the earl iest
settlers came from England and France, settling in New York. One of them
is reputed to have been a soldier in Lafayettels army which came to the
aid of the colonists in the Revolutionary War.
This young Frenchman was probably the father of Catherine Jaquette,
who married Joseph Whitehall Paxson. According to the genealogical
table, their daughter, Anna Louise Paxson, was born in Philadelphia. She
later became the wife of John Higson. One of John Cover's versions of
the family story confirms that John Higson met his wife-to-be, "Annte,"
while his regiment of the Union Army was dispatched for training to
Northern Pennsylvania, south of E1 mira, New York (item 7, pare.t).
 447

It was Annie Higson whose skills as a homemaker were appreciated by

her grandchildren. John and his sister especially appreciated Grandma
Higson's cooking skills when they visited her after school in their early
years. Her handicraft skills were recognized throughout the area and
down through the years. John mentions her noteworthy knitting and
weaving, as well as her social skills in organizing groups of women
friends who gathered in her home to perform these tasks. Mary cherished
the quilts her grandmother made and used them through the years. Barbara
has inherited them.
At least one of Annie's embroidery pieces won a prize at a county
fair (see Part II, p.163 and item 7). This is the same spirited woman
who, the reader may recall, gave the telephone workers in Johnstown a
hard time, years later, when they tried to place a pole too close to her
front porch (again, see Part II, p.164).
These talents and traits should not come as a surprise, when one
considers Annie's Huguenot lineage. In Huguenots in Britain and their
French Background, 1550.:. 1800 (l987), several chapters are devoted to
the traditional craft skills of the Huguenots. Many of them had migrated
to England after Louis XIV's revocation of the Edict of Nantes in October
1685. This was the edict that had given the French protestants relative
religious tolerance for the prior 123 years.[96]
Prior to John Higson's emigration to the United States, he was a
young lad in his late adolescence, living in London (Appendix F, item 5,
ntd-p.z), Bernard Bailyn, in the volume cited above, The Peopl ing of
North America: An Introduction (1986), has a generic description of such
a young man. But first Bailyn begins by speaking about an earlier era,
 448

in the middle ages, at the "advent of industrialism" (p, 3). He states

that he would like to be able to scan, camera-like, such historical

terrain to discover "the essence of historical change." He continues his
"fl ight of fancy" by suggesting that perhaps the most el emental

development might be:

~.the movement of people outward from their original centers

of habitation... that involved an untraceable multitude of
local, small-scale exoduses and colonizations, the continuous
creation of new frontiers and ever-widening circumferences,
the complex intermingling of peoples in expanding border
areas and in the end the massive transfer to the western
hemisphere of people from Africa, from the European mainland,
and above all from the Anglo-Celtic offshore islands of
Europe, culminating in what Bismarck called "the decisive
fact of the modern world," the peopling of the North American
continent. {pp.4-5)[97]

Bailyn concludes this summation by stating, "The westward transatlantic

movement of people is one of the greatest events in recorded history.
It's magnitude and consequences are beyond measure." He claims that "it
forms the foundation of American history" (p.S),
A bit further along in this introductory chapter, Bailyn describes

two types of emigrants who came from the British Isles to North America.

There were those from the population center in the Thames Valley, which
had London as its hub, the one he call s the "metropol itan" group. The

others, those who came from the northern British provinces, which he
designates the "provincial" ones, include emigrants from the Scottish
Highlands (p.12). John Higson, who came from London, according to our

Narrative, would fall into the group Bailyn calls "the metropolitan
pattern" and which he describes thus:
 449

...a young man, in his early twenties, acting individually.

He is not, usually, drawn from among London's most desperate,
destitute slum dwellers; nor is he from the more stable or
substantial segments of the population. He is, rather, an
impecunious young artisan or craftsman who has served all or
some part of his apprenticeship, or in a less formal way
learned something of a trade, has found employment irregular
or nonexistent, and, without prospects, still unmarried and
without family encumbrances, has decided to head out to the
colonies alone.... There are few children of either sex in
this metropol itan migration, few women, and few famil ies.
(PP.12-13)
Let the reader turn to Appendix F (item 5, p.2, para. 4 and item 7,
para. 1, 2, 3, and 4) for concrete data to support Bailyn's
general ization. John Higson, a bit younger perhaps, than Bailyn1s
statement suggests, nonetheless fits neatly under that umbrella.
For further individuation, note how John Higson's namesake, John
Cover, cites Higson's idealistic purpose, to help liberate the slaves by
enlisting in the Union Army. Cover adds the detail about Higson's wound,
resulting from his rescuing the American flag, shot down by a soldier of
the Confederacy. Higson's bravery in action won him an award, a
designation of "aid to the President." The severity of the wound, John
Cover adds, "did not permit activity" after the award (item 5, p.2,
para.4) •
How fortunate John Higson was to escape with his life from the
battle at Antietam can be appreciated by an article of more recent date
in the New York Times. The journalist begins by noting:
More than anything else, the battle field at Antietam, site
of the bloodiest day in the nation's wartime history, is a
monument to the American private soldier who stands in the
rear rank on parade but in the front rank on attack.
Here, on Sept. 16, 1862... [actually, on the following
day] the Union and Confederate armies fought...nearly to the
death 125 years ago. By nightfall, 23,000 Union and
 450

Confederate soldiers had been killed, wounded or were missing

in action. Not since then, in either of the world wars or in
Korea or Vietnam, have so many American soldiers fallen in
one day.[98]
No wonder that John Higson refused, in later years, to talk about the
war, and would say only, "war is hell!" (see Part II, p.IS8, nara.I),
The young John Higson, later to become Mary's maternal grandfather
set out for the new world in a spirit of high adventure to seek his
fortune there. He had an idealistic goal, helping to free the slaves.
As the Narrative details, he fought the war for human freedom, then wed
his competent young wife, Anna Louise. Next, he tramped across the
countryside until he found steady employment in the Cambria Steel Mills,
located in the valley of Johnstown, Pennsylvania. There he settled in,
to provide a home for his wife, to sire a family of five youngsters, and
to lead a full life in his chosen country (Part II, pp.156-I59).

The Foundation
With the foregoing introduction to the larger historical framework
that lay behind the migration of Mary's forebears to the new world, let
us turn to the question of how these factors may have infl uenced Mary's
life. Eli Zaretsky, in his Introduction to the abridged edition of the
classic sociological work, The Polish Peasant in Europe and America
(l984), states that the sociologists, W. I. Thomas and Florian
Znaniecki, who wrote the original five volume edition, had as "their
primary methodological injunction -- never to study attitudes without
values, or values without attitudes...." (c. 3).[99] This, according to
Zaretsky "was intended to force attention of the sociologist on the way
in which subjective and objective processes continually dissolved into
 451

one another," Zaretsky continues, saying that the authors urged the use
of lI a new source of documentation -- life histories, letters, and other
means of documenting subjective exper tence" (p.4).
In the narrative section of this paper, the innovative method so
recommended, no longer innovative, has been used. Now it is time to
focus attention on how' the larger objective processes, some of which have
been outlined in the immediately prior pages, may have been woven into
the pattern of Mary's life and to try to understand what influences these
processes may have had on her values and choices as she grew from
childhood to adulthood and into later maturity. To do so, it has been
necessary to flesh out, albeit minimally, the skeleton of the
genealogical chart. As the balance of this paper unfolds, it is the hope
of this writer that Mary's well-lived life can be seen and appreciated by
the reader in ways not previously revealed. Or, if that is too grandiose
a goal, that, at the least, some facets of this life can be brought into
focus in such a manner as to yield some readers insights they might not
have previously realized with as much clarity.

The Question of The Calling

... the .£!...!:! for external good$ should snlz 1 ie on the
shoulders of "the saint like ~ light cloak, whfCh can be
thrown aside!!..!.!!l momeii"P'" But fate decreed that the
cloak should become an iron cage.[IOO]
-- --- Max Weber (1958)

Weber, in the above quotation, is commenting on how the Puritan

ethic of work as a calling came to dominate wordly morality and in so
doing played a leading part in building the modern economic order which
became IIbound to the technical and economic conditions of machine
 452

production which today determine the lives of all the individuals who are
born into this mechanism" (1958, p.18l). The "today" in which he wrote
these words was the early 1920s, just a few years after Mary entered
adulthood. Weber goes on to say that even those who are not directly
concerned with economic acquisition also feel this oppressive economic
order and that it may continue to so oppress mankind "until the last ton
of fossilized coal is burnt," Paradoxically, Weber's words appear to be
both on and off target. In terms of the late 1980s, his prophesy about
fossilized fuel sounds tragically accurate. In terms, however, of Mary's
life, the note is, happily, false. For Mary did not find her "light
cloak" become "an iron cage." How, then,did she escape such a fate?
To answer that question, we must first examine, as Zaretsky suggests
Thomas and Znaniecki recommeded, the attitudes and values, the subjective
and objective aspects of Mary's early 1ife. A good way to begin this
search might be to look at the religious atmosphere prevailing in Mary's
early formative years, in her home and in the neighborhood in which she
1ived and grew.
let us begin by asking a short, but far from simple question, IIWere
Mary's folks Puritans?" The simple answer, spelled out in complex detail
in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, would be "No."
That is not, however, a final answer. It must be qual ified.

Before looking into this murky question further, a lengthy quotation

from R. H. Tawney's Religion and the Rise of Capitalism (1926) written a
few years after Weber's classic may be enlightening. Tawney states:
The most characteristic and influential form of Protestantism
in the two centuries following the Reformation is that which
descends, by one path or another, from the teaching of
 453

Calvin. Unlike the Lutheranism from which it sprang,

Calvinism, assuming different shapes in different countries,
became an international movement, which brought not peace,
but a sword, and the path of which was strewn with
revolutions. Where Lutheranism had been socially
conservative, deferential to established political
authorities, the exponent of a personal, almost quietistic
piety, Calvinism was an active and radical force. It was a
creed which sought not merely to purify the individual, but
to reconstruct Church and State, and to renew society by
penetrating every department of life, public as well as
private, with the influence of religion. (p.91)
It .is this penetrating aspect of the Calvinistic, Puritanical
influence that forces one not hastily to conclude that the "N 0 II above
adequately answers the question addressed.
Parenthetically, it should be noted that Weber is approaching the
question of the Protestant reformation from his setting in Germany. It
was there, "in the Saxon town of Wittenberg, not far from Berlin, in
1517, when the Augustian monk Martin Luther nailed his celebrated ninety-
five theses to the door of the Schloss Kirke" (R. Shafer, 1939). Even
though Luther started the Reformation, his intent was reform, not
revolution, and, by and large, Luthers intent prevailed in Germany. In
England, however, to which Shafer points out the reformation quickly
spread, a much more virulent spirit took root. The Anglican Church was
an outgrowth of Henry VIII1s political goals and not a religious
reformation as such (Shafer, pp.270-271). The passage quoted above from
Tawney should be viewed from the perspective of the English reformation,
which led to the Puritan reign of Oliver Cromwell, which, in turn led to
the rise of the Presbyterian faction bent on establishing a despotism
"after the example set by Calvin at Geneva" (p.291). Shafer sums up
this benighted period by stating, "Protestant fanaticism and Protestant
 454

anarchy had descended upon England, and there was union only in
repression of 'wor1d1 tness'" (p, 291). This sweeping simp1 ification of a
most complex period in English history is mentioned only to point out
that the German reformation led by Luther was quite a different matter
from the English Reformation, where bloodshed and mayhem prevailed.
For the purposes presently at hand, let it be noted that Mary's
forebears were Lutherans and Anglicans. Her mother was an Episcopalian,
the North American variant of an Anglican, the Church of England that
viewed itself as a state religion, Christian and Catholic, albeit not
Roman Catho1 ic. Mary's maternal grandmother, Anna Paxson, was a
descendant of the French Huguenot ancestor and she had, in all
probability, an Episcopalian father. When Anna Paxson married John
Higson, the man from London, the new family was Episcopalian. When
Carrie Higson became Mrs. Cover, she attended the Lutheran Church with
Charles Cover, who came from a long 1ine of Lutherans. All the Cover
children were reared as Lutherans.
Clearly, Mary's religious upbringing was neither Puritan nor
Pietist. Lutheranism was the least radical, least militant of the
Protestant denominations. And yet, the simple "No" answer, given above,
still needs qual ifying.
Clarification may come through examining two variations of the
concept called "the Calling," one held by the Lutherans and the other by
the Calvinists. It should be noted, parenthetically, that in England and
Scotland, and later, in the Colonies, Calvinists were designated as
Puritans or Presbyterians, with the Pietists adding yet other variations
to what was generally thought of as more radically reformed Protestant
 455

denominations than either Lutherans or Episcopalians.

The Lutheran Concept of the Calling

In defining the concept of "the Calling" as it was developed in

Lutheranism, Weber states that an unquestionably new aspect of any

similar earlier, less developed notions, was:

... the val uation of the ful fi 11 ment of duty in wordly affairs
as the highest form which the moral activity of the
individual could assum~ This it was which inevitably gave
everyday worldly activity a religious significance, and which
first created the conception of a calling in this sense....
The only way of living acceptably to God was not to surpass
worldly moral ity in monastic asceticism, but solely through
the fulfillment of the obligations imposed upon the
individual by his position in the world. That was his
calling. (p.80)

...every legitimate calling has exactly the same worth in the

sight of God. (p.81)

Weber points out, in paragraphs that follow, that this understanding

of the calling is similar to one found in the "Old Testament", which he
paraphrases as, "Everyone should abide by his living and let the godless

run after gain" (p, 83). He continues, "The personal attitude of Jesus
is characterized in classical purity by the typical antique-oriental

plea: IIGive us this day our daily bread" (p.83). Luther, Weber

continues, would have found the "pursuits of material gain beyond

personal needs ... as a symptom of lack of grace, and since it can

apparently only be attained at the expense of others, directly

reprehens tb le" (p.84). Weber adds, "The individual should remain once

and for all in the station and calling in which God had placed him, and
should restrain his worldly activity within the limits imposed by his
established station in life" (p.85).
 456

The Calvinist Concept of the Calling

The primary difference between Lutheranism and Calvinism that needs
to be understood for the purpose of this paper is connected with the
dogma of predestination and the doctrine of the elect. The Calvinistic
view of "the Calling" is intrinsically related to those concepts. It is
not for theological reasons that the need arises, but rather, to
understand "the i nfl uence of those psycho l ogi ca 1 sanct ions which,
originating in religious belief and the practice of religion, gave a
direction to practical conduct and held the individual to it" (p.97).
Weber states that it is the doctrine of predestination that was most
characteristic. Very simply, this doctrine, as outlined by Weber, denies
IIMan ll freewill, since, "by his fall into a state of sin... a natural
man,... dead in sin, is not able, by his own strength, to convert
himself.... 11 (p.99-100). Then, the next point is, I'By the decree of
God, for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are
predestined into everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting
death II (p.lOO). Next, loosely paraphrased, God has chosen out of IIHis
mere free grace and love, without any foresight of faith or good works,
or perseverance in either... or any other thing in the creature as
conditions, or causes moving Him thereunto... I' (p.IOO).
On the other hand, He IIwithholdeth mercy" from others and ordains
them lito dishonour and wrath for their sin, to the praise of His glorious
Jus t tce" (p.IOO).
The psychological whip that keeps Calvin's flock on the straight and
narrow path to salvation depends not on confession and absolution from
sin, as in more traditional dogmas, including Lutheranism and
 457

Anglicanism; but rather on the fear of proving oneself damned by not

following the path of virtue and good works. Such a life in no way
guarantees salvation in eternity. Without such a straight and narrow
path, however, one could be quite certain s/he was doomed to everlasting
Hell. The power of such a doctrine to control the behavior of a believer
would be hard to overestimate. When one considers that a call ing, in
Calvinist terms means that:
All those whom God has predestined into life, and those only,
He is pleased in His appointed and accepted time effectually
to call, by His word and spirit (out of that state of sin and
death in which they are by nature)...determining them to that
which is good.... (p, 100)
Then, it becomes apparent that one's work might well serve two purposes.
On the one hand it would keep the door to salvation ajar, albeit without
any promise of ultimate entry, and it might also, in the proper soil,
yield earthly gain -- profit at least, and sometimes wealth. Salvation
would not be guaranteed, but life on earth could be made more pleasant.
Calvinism, according to Weber, was lithe faith over which the great
political and cultural struggles of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries were fought in the most highly developed countries, the
Netherla~ds, England and France ll (p.9S). It was transplanted to the
Colonies by the great migration there in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries. "Cap t t el t sm was the social counterpoint of Calvinist
theo loqy," states Weber (p.z),
What this austere doctrine fails to yield is a relaxed tradition-
alistic acceptance of God's will as it is expressed by a Lutheran
believer, who "can make himself sure of his state of grace... in that he
feels himself to be the vessel of the Holy Spirit.... " (pp.1l3-1l4).
 458

This harkens back to the "light cloak" of the quotation that opens this
discussion. Weber suggests that Calvinism, in tandem with the modern
industrialized world and the capitalistic economic system, had turned
that light cloak of the new would-be saint into "an iron cage" (p.1Sl).
Martin luther1s religious life, Weber suggests, tends towards
mysticism and emotionalism. The Puritan tradition rests upon "ascet tc
act ton" (pp.113-114). In England, Puritanism took the "merr-te" out of
"Merri e old Engl and. II
Of course, there are no absolute pursuits in real life. These two
strands of Protestantism have been separated out from an enmeshment with
each other in the larger society for a clarity of view. In the world at
large they are entwined, if not embedded, together. Just how they are
pl ayed out in Mary1s 1ife is yet to be examined.

A lutheran Home in a Puritan Milieu

Although there were neither Puritans nor Pietists, strictly
speaking, in Mary1s background, as we know it, she was born into a
society saturated in the Calvinist ethic. This was a society in which
the doctrine of the elect informed not just the personal lives of many,
and became not just the mainspring of the value system of a whole nation.
It was that doctrine which also became the "active and radical force"

(Tawney, 1926, p.9l) that shaped the emerging North American nation's
political, intellectual and philosophical foundations; so that even
today, as the 20th century draws to a close, its influence can be
discerned behind the facade that our nation presents to the rest of the
world -- to both our glory and our shame.
 459

Max Weber, for all his searching and searing critique of the
Protestant ethic has given it its due as the principle from which the
belief in natural rights derived. A complex theological explanation of
the development of German Pietism from its Lutheran roots leads Weber to
speak of "natural rights" as lithe ideal to which we are ... indebted
for not much less than everything which even the most extreme reactionary
prizes as his sphere of individual freedom...." (Note 118, p, 245).
To oversimplify, Weber sees Calvinism, which gave birth to the
doctrine of the elect, as a complex theological doctrine that led to the
so-called "work ethic". That conclusion led Weber to his famous line,
"But fate decreed that the cloak shoul d become an iron cage" (p, 181).
The reference is to forced labor in the 20th century industrialized
society. But in its multiple complexity this same Puritan ethic also
bequeathed to 18th century humankind the 1iberating concept of
inalienable natural rights upon which rests the philosophical
superstructure of modern democracy.
Weber traces the bel ief in individual initiative based upon "one's
own ability" back to "Puritan worldly asceticism" which led, ultimately,
in his view, to the "modern economic order," and the spirit of capitalism
(pp.179;180). Doing justice to the complexities of his analysis is
beyond the scope of this paper, but this overview needs to be presented
because it informs the cultural milieu into which Mary was born and in
which she was reared. That milieu played a role in Mary's attitudes and
values.
Let it be kept in mind as well, however, the important mitigating
fact that her most immediate familial and home envionment was not,
 460

strictly speaking, a Calvinistic, Puritanical, Pietistic one. The

predominating religious aura within Mary's family was a much more benign
and nurturing one.
 461

Setting

Johnstown

The New Englander is attached to his township because it is

strong and independent; he has an interest in it because he
shares in its management; he loves it because he has nQ
reason to complain of his lot; he invests his ambition and
his future in it; in the restricted sphere within his scope,
he learns to rule society; he gets to know those formalities
without which freedom can advance only through revolutions,
and becoming imbued with their spirit, develops ~ taste for
order, understands the harmon~ of powers, and in the end
accumulates clear, practical i eas about therl"ature of his
duties and the extent of his rights.
Alexis De Tocqueville[101]

Communities, in the sense in which we are using the term,

have ~ history.:. l'"i1 an important sense they are constituted
~ their past.:. and for this reason we can speak of ~ real
community !! ~ -.rcommunity of memory,1I one that does not
forget its east. In order not to forget that past, ~
communftY .!! invOTved .i!!. retell ing its story, its
constitutive narrative, and in so doing, it offers exampre5
of the men and women who have embodied and exemplified the
mean:fng of the communlty-:--These stoileS of coll ectm
history and exemplary individuals are !rr important part gf
the tradition that is so central to ~ community of memory. 1
Robert N. Bellah, Richard Madsen, William M. Sullivan,
Ann Swidler, and Steven M. Tipton (1986)[102]

Habits of the Heart[103]

Technically, Johnstown is a middle Atlantic state, not a New England
one. Nevertheless, the first epigraph which describes so graphically a
New Englander's attachment and devotion to his township, could be
depicting Charles Cover's feelings and attitude toward his hometown.
 462

Johnstown, some 50 years later (for corroboration, refer to Appendix F,

item 3, especially column 1, para.2; item 4, p.L, column 2; p.2, para.
5ff.; p.3; item 5, para. 1,2, 3, 6; item 14, column 1, last para.; and
item 15. In fact, one has only to leaf through Appendix F, even as far
as item 55, to realize how much Johnstown was a community, in the sense
that the second epigraph describes the term). The ambience of Johnstown,
caught so accurately in those earlier clippings, family memos of John
Cover, and 01 d photographs, 1ingers on into the 1ate 20th century, as
will be documented below. Home to the Cover family for six generations,
Johnstown would be Mary's birth place and her home town during her
formative years, just prior to the turn of the century, and for the 15
years thereafter.
Another scholar, from the discipline of moral philosophy, A1asdair
MacIntyre (1984), has written about the kind of community that Johnstown
epitomizes in a widely acclaimed work, After Virtue. MacIntyre develops
the thesis that virtues formerly provided the glue that held together an
individual's life by giving it a unity of purpose. This kind of unity
informed the character of a person. Such purpose was closely related to
a practice of some worthwhile task the achievement of which not only
fostered an individual's sense of worth, but also contributed to the
community with which the practice was associated. It was the virtues

that the individual ~racticed that kept the practices from falling prey
to the corrupting power of the institutions which were there to sustain
the pract ices. [104]
 463

MacIntyre believes that modernity has largely lost the capacity to

foster the kind of unity of which he speaks:
A concept of a self whose unity resides in the unity of a
narrative which links birth to life to death as narrative
beginning to middle to end. (p.205)
Just why and how this loss has occurred, historically, in western society
is beyond the scope of this paper to unfold. The point to be made here
is that MacIntyre sees our civilization as inflicted with "a grave
disorder" which he defines as a loss of "Comprehension, both theoretical
and practical, of moral ity."{p.2).[105]
The concept of the virtues that MacIntyre is speaking of is embedded
in the earlier cultures of Greece and also of Judiasm, or Christianity or
Islam. He suggests that each of these earlier civilizations had its
stock of stories "peculiarly its own", which tell about its still
earlier, vanished age (p.121). These stories, handed down through an
oral tradition, "speak of a very much earlier time" than even 6th century
Athens, when the "formal recitation of the Homeric poems was established
as a pub1 ic ceremony." The virtues, embodied in these early poems and
pagan sagas, were a part of the history of the cultures from which they
originally sprang. Whether or not the stories provide reliable
historical evidence about the societies they portray is not germane to
MacIntyrels point. He is interested in "a relatively indisputable
historical fact... that such narratives... provide the historical memory,
adequate or inadequate, of the societies in which they were finally
written down," (p.121). This is the "community of memory" to which
Bellah et al. refer in the epigraph above. As Classical Greek society
developed out of the earlier Homeric period, the moral structure changed.
 464

Continuity remained, however, because the stories were there to give the
new age perspective on its history. The virtues which the earlier
tradition espoused were handed down through the generations that
followed. The important point for this particular place in this text is
that the virtues that are embodied in early heroic tales can only be
understood within the context of the social structure in which they are
embedded. As MacIntyre more forcefully puts it:
... mora1ity and social structure are in fact one and the same
in heroic society. There is only one set of social bonds.
Morality as something distinct [from its social structure]
does not yet exist. (p.123)
By the time Bellah et a1. and MacIntyre are writing their respective
works, in the late 20th century, the continuity between moral ity and
practice that existed in the pre-classical, and with some variation, in
the classical, eras, has long since vanished as a general cultural norm.
There were, however, as late as the 19th and early 20th centuries, still
some small towns and communities in the continental United States where
something similar to that earlier practice of traditional virtues could
still be discerned. Vestiges of such a traditon are evident in the
narrative of Mary's life, in her early years, as a child growing up in
Johnstown, and later, with variations, as she entered adulthood in other
communities. She took her traditional values with her, accommodating
them to the new settings. For example, her early life included regular
church attendance as well as attendance at Sunday school and
participation in the Children's Day programs. When she went to Vassar
and was exposed to the plurality of doctrines in her philosophy class,
she gave up church attendance but continued her attendance at chapel,
 465

since this was a requirement of the college. She also continued to gUide
her behavior by those virtues she learned about from her religious
training in her early formative years. She occasionally "broke the
smoking rules" of her college by going to a neighborhood cemetery to
"sneak" a smoke with her fellow-classmates; but she did not become a
smoker.
It is the contention of this writer that part of what made Mary the
unique person that she was is closely related to the setting of
Johnstown, with its "community of memory". She carried that community
with her into her more complex and sophisticated worlds in her later
life. The values learned in her early life in the family, which were
interwoven with the values in the community in which the family dwelt
("There is only one set of social bonds. Morality as something distinct
[from its social structure] does not yet exist," says MacIntyre) were a
part of Mary's character structure. They are the virtues that MacIntyre
speaks of as "the unity of a narrative which links birth to life to death
as narrative beginning to middle to end." How this unity is manifest
throughout Mary's life will become increasingly apparent as this
DISCUSSION unfolds, if it does so successfully.
To prepare for such manifestation another point needs to be made.
It is the way in which traditional values are related to the language in
which they are expressed. MacIntyre states that conversations, 1ike
narratives, must be construed by the listner to be understood. A person
does that by allocating them "to genres, just as we do 1iterary
narratives" (p.211). He explains:
 466

Indeed a conversation is a dramatic work, even if a very

short one, in which the participants are not only the actors,
but also the joint authors, working out in agreement or
disagreement the mod~ of their production. For it is not
just that conversations belong to genres in just the way that
plays and novels do; but they have beginnings, middles and
endings just as do 1iterary works. They invol ve reversal s
and recognitions; they move towards and away from climaxes.
There may within a longer conversation be digressions and
sUbplots, indeed digressions within digressions and subplots
within subplots •
... For conversations, understood widely enough, is the form
of human transactions in general. Conversational behavior is
not a special sort or aspect of human behavior, even though
the forms of language-using and of human life are such that
the deeds of others speak for them as much as do their words.
For that is possible only because they are the deeds of those
who have words. (p.211)

Two Languages with Variations

MacIntyre's point provides an introduction to the concept of First
and Second Languages, as spelled out by Bellah et al , They state that
the term language is used by them "to refer to modes of moral discourse
that include distinct vocabularies and characteristic patterns of moral
reasoning" (p.334). The "first language" refers "to the individualistic
mode that is the dominant American form of discourse about moral, social,
and pol it i ca1 manners" (p.334). The "second 1anguage" refers to "other
forms, primarily biblical and republican, that provide at least part of
the moral discourse of most Americans" (p.334). To disentangle these two
forms, both of which concern moral values, is a bit like unraveling a
Gordian knot. Our daily conversation consists of an amalgam, very often,
of both, which is also woven in with new language patterns that have
evolved from these earlier forms to express concepts that have emerged in
the 20th century. Indeed, MacIntyre makes the point that "what we
 467

possess... are fragments of a conceptual scheme, parts of which now 1ack

those contexts from which their significance derived" (p.z). These
"fragments" constitute Bellah's "community of memory", but for MacInture
they represent what might be called a faint echo of a language once
current, but now largely lost to conscious memory; a kind of forgotten
language, or half-forgotten language. In any case, yet another layer has
been added, making for more complexity, according to Bellah. It is the
more current vernacular in use today, especially among those who consider
themselves members of the so-called "helping professions" and others who
are members of the post-Freudian, amorphous but pervasive community of
self-reflective, self-analytical individuals. These sub-groups exist in
most urban communities of our continent and they tend to cut across those
professional segments of the population which are largely middle and
upper-middle class. This self-reflective, self-analytical language is de
rigueur for many. It is a refinement of the individual istic tendencies
in our culture that suggests alienation from the mainstream of the
earlier language tradition, stemming from the biblical and republican
branches of the so-call ed "second 1anguage". Bellah suggests that thi s
development is modeled on the therapeutic relationship:
The therapeutic relationship underscores the intersubjective
nature of reality. It alerts the participants to discrepant
definitions of the situation stemming from different personal
histories. It cautions them against projecting their
feel ings on others and overgenera11zing their own views of
what is going on between them.
Compared to the practices members of a traditonal family,
church, or town share over a 1ifetime, the therapeutic
relationship leaves us with relatively little to do together
except communicate, and much 1ess time in whichto do it.
(pp.122-123)
 468

Bellah explains the advantage of this kind of language for the

"comp l ex, functionally differentiated soc te ty" of "pr-ofes s t onal and
managerial life ll so pervasive in today's world. It does not, however,
facilitate the kind of community interaction that MacIntyre has in mind
when he speaks of the citizens of democratic Athens, nor that Bellah et
ale refer to when speaking of the "communf ty of memory,"
Early in Habits of the Heart, Bellah explains that different modes
of the two main languages of individualism lIar e rooted in different
traditions and have different impl ications" (p.27). The first he call s
lI utilitarian individualism ll ; the second, lIexpressive individualism. 1I The
utilitarian branch comes by way of the enlightenment thinkers of 18th
century France. Benjamin Franklin has become the American prototype for
that philosophical point of view. He is cited as a fitting
representative of enlightenment values by MacIntyre and Max Weber as well
as Bellah. It is lithe commercial and entreprenurial spirit ll which
Franklin epitomizes (p.36). Tocqueville understood that such
individualism could lead citizens to leave lithe greater society to look
after itsel f" (p.37). The other branches of individual ism, the bibl ical
and republ ican, typified by John Winthrop and Thomas Jefferson
respectively, are less problematic, although still fraught with conflict.
Bellah quotes Tocqueville as saying, III think I can see the whole destiny
of America contained in the first Puritan who landed on those shores"
(p.28). It is John Winthrop, the first governor of the Massachusetts Bay
Colony, who typifies that IIfirst Puritan. 1I He is quite a different
person from the kind that Weber describes as a typical Puritan. Winthrop
delivered a sermon in Salem harbor just before he and his fellow Puritans
 469

stepped ashore in which he said, in part:

We must del ight in each other, make others conditions our
own, rejoice together, mourn together, labor and suffer
together, always having before our eyes our community as
members of the same body. (p.28)
That sounds good, but Bellah adds, "The Puritans were not
uninterested in material prosperity and were prone when it came,
unfortunately, to take it as a sign of God's approval" (pp.28-29).
Bellah adds, as a mitigating factor, 'yet their fundamental criterion of
success was not material wealth but the creation of a community in which
a genuinely ethical and spiritual life could be lived" (p.29). Bellah
stresses the ethical qual ity of Winthrop's character, noting that his
concept of liberty is qualified by a stipulation that one is free to do
"only [that] which is good, just and honest" (p.29).
Thomas Jefferson is the American who Bellah cites as the proto-
typical republican individualist. Bellah says, "Freedom was not so
tightly tied to substantive moral ity for Jefferson as it had been for
Winthrop," but he adds, "The notion of a formal freedom that would simply
allow people to do what they pleased - for example, solely to make money
- was as unpalatable to Jefferson as it had been to Winthrop" (p.31).
Freedom required "a certain kind of society with a certain form of life,
without that, Jefferson saw freedom as quickly destroying itself and
eventuating in tyranny" (p.31).
Tocqueville (Mayer, 1988) saw clearly the dangers to which too much
emphasis upon individualism could lead:
Individualism is a calm and considered feeling which disposes
each citizen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows
and withdraw into the circle of family and friends; with this
little society formed to his taste, he gladly leaves the
 470

greater society to look after itself. (p.506)

and, a bit further along, he adds:
Aristocracy links everybody, from peasant to king, in one
long chain. Democracy breaks the chain and frees each link.
~.more and more people who, though neither rich nor powerful
enough to have much hold over others, have gained or kept
enough wealth and enough understandi ng to look after thei r
own needs. Such folk owe no man anything and hardly expect
anything from anybody. They form the habit of thinking of
themselves in isolation and imagine that their whole destiny
is in thei r own hands.
Thus, not only does democracy make men forget their
ancestors, bu tal so clouds the i r view of the i r descendents
and isolates them from their contemporaries. Each man is
forever thrown back on hi mse1f alone, and there is danger
that he may be shut up in the solitude of his own heart.
(p.50B)
Bellah suggests that these remarks by Tocqueville were based,
primarily, upon his observation of the utilitarian individualism
associated with Franklin, and not the "express tve individual ism that
Whitman woul d come to represent" (p.37).
Bellah points out that Tocqueville stressed that lithe basic unit of
association, and the practical foundation of both individual dignity and
participation, was the local communt ty" (p.3B). Bellah states:
There a civic culture of individual initiative was nurtured
through custom and personal ties inculcated by a widely
shared Protestant Christianity. The mores Tocqueville
emphasized were still strong [... in the] still - agrarian
America, ... throughout the nineteenth century•
...Concern for economi c betterment... operated withi n the
context of a still functional covenant concern for the
welfare of one's neighbor. In the towns, the competitive
individualism stirred by commerce was balanced and humanized
by restraining influences of a fundamentally egalitarian
ethic of community responsibil ity. (p.3B)
From the narrative section of this paper, in its description of
Johnstown life, and supporting items in Appendix F, it can be seen that
 471

the kind of community that Bellah describes and Tocqueville supports was
still alive and well in Mary's home town in the early years of the 20th
century.
The fourth strand of individualism is called "expressive
individualism" and its prototypical figure is Walt Whitman. This is the
branch of individualism that espouses the development of the self and a
life "rich in experience, open to all kinds of people, luxuriating in the
sensual as well as the intellectual, above all a life of strong
feeling... "(p.34). This, Bellah suggests, is how Whitman "perceived a
successful life" (p.34). Bellah states:
Whitman identified the self with other people, with places,
with nature, ultimately with the universe. The expansive and
deeply feeling self becomes the very source of life....
(p.34)
It is from this self-exploratory strand that the self-reflective
community developed. Although Whitman's point of view encompassed much
that has been described as aspects of the other three strands of
individual ism, including the idea of justice, shared by Jefferson and
Frankl in, as well as the "self-sufficient farmer or artisan" (p.35), it
was "the ultimate use of the American's independence...to cultivate and
express the self and explore its vast social and cosmic identiti~s"

(p.35) that sets Whitman's individualism apart from the mainstream

republican strand. It is also the development of this expressive branch
that has been most apparent in the last several decades of the 20th
century.
It was this branch, the one modeled on the so-called "therapeutic
relationship," that seemed least compatible with Mary's temperament. She
 472

was aware of this style of relating and exposed to it professionally as

well as personally, but, in the opinion of this writer, it was not so

much that she was out of sympathy with it, as it was that her central
core identity was sol idly grounded in the kind of individual ism that

Tocqueville speaks of and Bellah has called by the names of "biblical"

and "repub1 tcan," Mary was not as closely identified with either the
utilitarian or the expressive branches.

It was the closer identification with the biblical and republican

branches of individualism, the "second language," that was responsible,

at least in part, for a qual ity of Mary's personal ity that some of her

friends and associates (especially those 15 or more years younger than

she) saw as quite strikingly "different," "original," and "refreshing."
There was little of what has come to be so predictably tortuous,
obfuscating, or convoluted in the contemporary manner and style of many

middle-class Americans in Mary's way of relating. Her manner was direct,

straightforward, crystal clear and uneqivoca1. It was as though she had
never learned the jargon of the now au current language. Perhaps that
could have been because Mary was reared in another time and a fast
vanishing p1 ace: a historical mil ieu that has all but died out. About

the passing of that era, both MacIntyre and Bellah express deep regret,
and they still harbor some hopes of rekind1 ing the still warm embers
smoldering in the nooks and crannies of our culture.

Another outstanding characteristic of Mary's temperament that she

was very aware of and spoke about it in the narrative section of this
paper as well as in other interviews was her need for socialization.
This was a need she felt strongly throughout her life. It was manifest
 473

in the number and quality of her lifelong friendships as well as her

close familial ties through the generations. It was a strong factor in
her commitment to the longitudinal studies at the IHO.
In the passages quoted above, beginning with the excerpt from
Winthrop's sermon and continuing with the quotation about civic culture
based on Protestant Christianity (see above, pp.469 and 471
respectively), the kind of community described is the kind in which Mary
was reared. This kind of community is in marked contrast to the kind
that the passages from Tocqueville predict may follow (see above, p. 470).
Ma ry' s early envi ronment resembled the pri or examples cited; the
Tocqueville quotations speak more to the kind of environment prevalent in
the latter half of the 20th century. Mary carried the more benign
community with her into her adult life, both personal and professional.
 474

The Flood: 1889

Remember the moment

TOdty everyone Q! us 1rr the Conemaugh Valley should pause and

.!!!!!.... the ~ slgril'Tlcant moment of the 1889 Flood Centennial
Commemoratlon.
The moment .!! 4:07 p.m., when, 100 yeaJs ago, .! raging
wall of water and debris smashed into ohnstown. The
'dl"'SiSter, one of the worst in American11"fStory, killed 2,209
people and brought ~measurable hardship to thousands Of
others.
 475

100th Anniversary
The epigraph above was the lead editorial in the May 31, 1989
commemorative edition of The Tribune-Democrat, the Johnstown daily
newspaper.[106] Any Johnstowner reading that editorial would know
exactly what behavior would be expected of her/him, if s/he wanted to be
considered an exemplary citizen of that city, on the occasion of the
100th anniversary of the flood. The editorial is hortatory as well as
informative.
The lead story has an inch high headline which reads "We Remember."
Below is a color photograph that covers the upper half of the front page,
showing 2,209 candleholders honoring "those who died in 1889 flood." The
story accompanying the headline and photograph, under the by-line of Dave
Hurst, tells about the program in the Stadium, a "Joyous, solemn pageant"
that drew a crowd of 18,000. The final paragraphs of this story read:
During the hymn "0 God Our Help in Ages Past," the spotlights
behind the stage converged and a light green laser light
"wave" crashed against the Westmont hillside. The crowd was
at its quietest as the hymn' notes died and a moment of
s i 1ence ensued.
A single firework burst prompted a final cheer before
the closing prayer.
Then, the crowd that entered with a wave, somberly left
after a unison prayer. (p.6A)
The commemorative edition of The Tribune-Democrat is massive. It
consists of 8 sections of color reproductions of earlier editions as well
as its current four sections. The first reproduced copy is of The
Cambria Tribune, Volume 1, Number 1, dated December 7, 1853.
Under the masthead, in fine print, the following legend is
imprinted:
 476

The Whig Party Cannot Die, So Long as The Principles of Clay

and Webster Live, And Their Memories Are Esteemed Sacred.
The commemoration of the 1889 Johnstown flood is not limited,
however, to the local press. In the Smithsonian magazine of May 1989,
Donald Dale Jackson writes an excellent article, replete with photographs
of the devestation wrought on the community of Johnstown.[107]
In Jackson's opening paragraph he states:
The calamity that befell this pathetically vulnerable little
western Pennsylvania city a century ago this month was the
worst peacetime disaster Americans had yet suffered. The
deluge that swamped the Conemaugh Valley when a rain-swollen
man-made lake burst through a weak dam also stunned and
shocked Americans in a way that few catastrophes before or
since have done•
...Itkilled 2,209, nearly three times the toll of the great
San Franci sco earthquake in 1906. (p.52)
Jackson points out that Johnstown has been subject to floods
throughout its history and that there is really no way to protect it from
future possibilities of flooding, even though it is less vulnerable now
than in the past, thanks to the work of the Corps of Engineers and the
constant vigilance of its flood-conscious citizens.
It should be pointed out, perhaps, that Mary 1 ived most of her
adult years in the Berkeley hills, looking out and down across San
Franci sco Bay.

Destruction from Within

Looking back upon a tragedy that occurred a hundred years ago
provides a view of a "community of memory" in the terms referred to
above. Johnstown is a good example of such a community. The newspaper
coverage for the 100th Anniversary of the 1889 flood shows how a
 477

community goes about fostering the memory of a historically significant

event.
Turning now to the record of another, more recent catastrophic
flood, a detailed account of the event, documented by personal interviews
with survivors, yields a far different picture of the outcome. Kai T.
Erikson (1976), in his sociological treatment of the Buffalo Creek Flood
of February 26, 1972, has drawn a finely detailed picture of a community
destroyed. He does this through numerous individual accounts that
survivors gave him soon after they witnessed the event. The destruction
they speak about is not simply material, nor is it the tragedy of lives
destroyed although both kinds of destruction are a part of their
testimonies. It is the effect that the tragedy has upon the hearts and
minds and spirits of those survivors that moves the reader beyond the
pain of tears to the edge of despair. Erikson speaks of the trauma
following the flood in these words:
I want to propose that the trauma experienced by the
survivors of the Buffalo Creek disaster can be visualized as
having two closely related but nonetheless distin9.uishable
facets - "individual trauma" and "collective trauma. I

By individual trauma I mean a blow to the psyche that

breaks through one's defenses so suddenly and with such
brutal force that one cannot react to it effectively••••They
[the surVivors] suffered deep shock as a result of their
exposure to death and devastation, and, as so often happens
in catastrophes of this enormity, they withdrew into
themselves, feeling numbed, afraid, vulnerable, and very
alone. (pp.153-154)
Erikson then draws attention to the distinction he is making between the
individual and the collective aspects of the overall trauma:
By coll ective trauma, on the other hand, I mean a blow to
the basic tissues of social life that damages the bonds
attaching people together and impairs the prevailing sense of
 478

communal ity. (p.154)

He continues, pointing out that this second form of shock, which is
accompanied by a more gradual awareness "that the community no longer
exists as an effective source of support and that an important part of
the self has dtseppeared" (p.154), which leads to a sense that the IIwe ll
which constitutes IIlinked cells in a larger communal bondII no longer
exists (p.154).
This is the contrast to be drawn between the impact of the two
floods, the 1889 one in Johnstown and the 1972 one in Buffalo Creek. Why
one community survived and the other was destroyed by a similar
catastrophe is a complex sociological question not to be explored in this
paper. But that JOhnstown as a community has survived is compel l ing
evidence of its being a prototypical "communf ty of memory," Its strength
as a community, in the sense that MacIntyre and Bellah both define the
term, became, in this writer's opinion, a part of the fabric of Mary's
1ife, contributing to the unity of her 1ife as MacIntyre defines that
term. Such unity is closely linked to the virtues which are an intrinsic
part of the practice that helps define lithe unity of a narrative which
links birth to life to death as narrative beginning to middle to end,"
(see above p.463). This process of 1inkage of an individual's 1ife to
that of the larger community gives the person, in this case, Mary,
strength of character and integrity; and it undoubtedly helped make her
1ife the success that it turned out to be. Notice that the point here
being stressed is the part that the home town community played in Mary's
life in those early years of childhood and adolescence. It was only a
part, but it was important to the outcome of her life. How important is
 479

difficult, probably impossible, to know.[ID8]

Normal Grief Reactions

Erick Lindemann (1944) wrote a seminal paper entitled $ymtomatology
and Management of Acute Grief. It should be noted here that there is no
evidence in the narrative of Mary's life that anyone in the Cover family,
nor any of Mary·s maternal family, the Higson branch, died or even
suffered injury, in the 1889 flood. It is also important to note that
Mary was born a 1ittle more than seven years after the flood. Surely
friends, or at least acquaintances, of Mary's parents must have died or
Suffered serious injuries or losses in the flood, but there is no
evidence of this in the record.
Charles Cover did, however, lose the means of his livlihood, the
livery stable, that he and his brother William operated. The horses were
drowned and the stable demolished, although Charles rode to safety on the
stable roof (Appendix F, item 4, p.2; also, item 10, para.5).
John Cover mentions the loss, also, of five houses that Charles
Cover owned. It is worth noting, perhaps, the way that Charles managed
to turn this loss to his advantage (Appendix F, item 5, p.z). John also
tells how, in the same "Cover Kit", Grandfather Higson engineered the
rescue of his family from the flood waters.
In Charles Cover's obituary, it is noted that at the time of the
flood, Mr. Cover was serving as a councilman of the Fourth Ward in the
Johnstown Borough Council. He was about 44 years old, widowed, with a
daughter by his then deceased wife, and a leader in his community.
 480

Mary's characteristic comment, whenever the subject of the great

Johnstown flood arose, was that Johnstown "was always having fl oods,"
The one she recalled from her own personal experience was the one that
occurred when she was a grammar school youngster. The memory was linked
to the boy in her class who brought her the roses. He came to her home
at 5 o'clock one morning, wading through flood waters, to be sure she was
safe (see, Part II, p.l77).
There is no evidence in the record, then, that the flood of 1889 had
significant negative impact on the Cover-Higson family. In the Lindemann
paper there is a section describing normal recovery from grief by a woman
of 40, who lost her husband in the Coconut Grove fire. This young widow,
in her recovery phase:
... s howe dam ark ed drive for act i vi ty, rna kin g p1ans for
supporting herself and her 1 ittle girl, mapping out the
preliminary steps for resuming her old profession as
secretary, and making efforts to secure hel p from the
occupational therapy department in reviewing her knowledge of
French. (p.143)
The point here is that this kind of motivation is similar to the response
of Charles Cover to the lesser loss of his livery business and the five
houses. His losses appeared to motivate him to positive and creative
efforts towards recovery, and to spur him on to greater efforts.
It was only a year and a half later, November 1890, that he married
Carrie Louise Higson, setting up a new household. His grocery business,
eventually leading to five stores, grew out of the provisions stands he
set up in the park following the flood (Appendix F, item 4, p.2).
Charles Cover appears to have been cut from cloth similar to that of the
prototypical men mentioned above in connection with "community of
 481

memory," Given the community spirit of Johnstown, even a disaster, as

long as it did not become too acute, could be turned into a motivating
factor for a citizen such as Charles Cover.

Courtship of Charles Cover and Carrie Higson

Mary·s Version and John's Version

According to Mary, Charles Cover first spied Carrie as she went to
and fro from the Red Cross Station, gathering supp1 ies for the Higson
family while they were staying with relatives after the loss of the
Higson home in the great flood.
On the other hand, John·s version is quite different (refer to Part
II, pp.161-163). John heard his story first from his Aunt Kate.
She told John a family secret: that Charles Cover had first proposed to
her, and only after she refused his hand did he turn to Carrie with a
proposal of marriage. According to John, Anna Higson told Kate (and the
other sister in whom Kate confided) not to tell Carrie. Then, when Carrie
asked her mother·s advice, Anna told her to accept Charles· proposal.
John ends this anecdote with the cryptic statement, IIMother was bittern
(see Appendix F, item 10, para.6). One wonders towards whom Carrie felt
bitter. Since John Cover does not say how he learned of his mo thers
bitterness, whether from Aunt Kate, his informant, or from his mother,
with whom he may have verified the story, it is not easy to assess either
the accuracy of the secret revealed to John, or the bitterness of Carrie,
its degree or the object of it.
 482

There is no evidence, in Mary's version of the courtship or in any

of her testimony about her mother, that Carrie displayed any personality
trait that might be construed as bitterness.
There is, however, a possibility that Kate might have been a screen
upon which Carrie could project any feel ings she might have harbored
about being Charles' second wife. After all, Charles Cover had been
married before and had a child by that marriage. It would not be too

improbable an idea that Carrie might have wished to have been his one and
only wife, in her heart of hearts. Perhaps John, her first born child
and only son, might have sensed some such feeling and construed is as a
kind of bitterness towards a rival - such as her older sister, Kate.
This, of course, is highly speculative, and therefore highly suspect.

A Third Variation on the Theme

In the opening statement of his book, The Importance of Lying,
Arnold M. LUdwig (1965) states:
Man's morality considers the lie as EVIL and the truth as
GOOD.
Regardless of this moral conspiracy against lying, the
fact is that everyone lies. Who has not falsified,
misstated, misquoted, misinterpreted, glossed over,
disguised, colored, varnished, dressed up, embroidered,
exaggerated, invented, trumped up, fUdged, or doctored the
truth? (vi t )
With this prefatorial statement, Ludwig later refers to an episode
in the Old Testament that might shed light upon the implied duplicity of
Charles Cover (as well as that of Kate and her mother, Anna), when LUdwig
speaks about "Jacob the deceiver becoming Jacob the deceived" (p.?).
 483

The story referred to is found in Genesis, Chapter 29 (The .!!.Q.!.l

Scriptures, 1954, pp.34-35). It reads, in part:

•••Rachel came with her father's sheep; for she tended

them. 10And it came to pass when Jacob saw Rachel the
daughter of Laban his mother's brother, and the sheep of
Laban hi s mother's brother, that Jacob went near, and roll ed
the stone from the well's mouth, and watered the flock of
Laban his mother's brother. llAnd Jacob kissed Rachel, and
lifted up his voice, and wept. 12And Jacob tol d Rachel that
he was her father's brother, and that he was Rebekah's son;
and she ran and tol d her father. 13And it came to pass, when
Laban heard the tidings of Jacob his sister's son, that he
ran to meet him, and embraced him, and kissed him, and
brought him to his house. And he told Laban all these
things. 14And Laban said to him: 'Surely thou art my bone
and my flesh.' And he abode with him the space of a month.
15And Laban said unto Jacob: 'Because thou art my brother,
shouldest thou therefore serve me for nought? tell me, what
shall thy wages be? 16Now Laban had two daughters: the name
of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was
Rachel. 17And Leah's eyes were weak; but Rachel was of
beautiful form and fair to look upon. 18And Jacob loved
Rachel; and he said: 'I will serve thee seven years for
Rachel thy younger daughter.' 19And Laban said: 'It is
better that I give her to thee, than that I should give her
to another man; abide with me.' 20And Jacob served seven
years for Rachel; and they seemed unto him but a few days,
for the love he had to her. 21And Jacob said unto Laban:
'Give me my wife, for my days are ful fi 11 ed, that I may go in
unto her.' 22And Laban gathered together all the men of the
place, and made a feast. 23And it came to pass in the
evening, that he took Leah his daughter, and brought her to
him; and he went in unto her. 24And Laban gave Zilpah his
handmaid unto his daughter Leah for a handmaid. 25And it
came to pass in the mo~ning that, behold, it was Leah; and he
said to Laban: 'What is this thou has done unto me? did not I
serve with thee for Rachel? 26And Laban said: 'It is not so
done in our place, to give the younger before the first-born.
(verses 9-26)
There is little doubt that Charles Cover, who attended the Lutheran
church regularly, knew this story. There may well have been a sense in
that community of Johnstown in the late 19th century that the older or
oldest daughter in a family should marry before her younger sisters.
Vestiges of such a biblical tradition linger still today in many towns
 484

and even in larger urban centers. From what is known of Charles Cover,
the solid citizen and the clever tradesman, it would appear altogther
possible that he might have taken a calculated risk and proposed to Kate,
the elder sister, a commited school teacher, with the thought in mind
that his hand would be refused. Afterall, Charles Cover was a widower, a
man of 44 years, not inexperienced in the ways of the world. He
doubtless admired Kate as a person. He was a man who was interested in
ideas, as witness his Chautauqua pursuits, and interested in higher
education for women as well as men, which becomes apparent later.
Charles had much to gain, if he had such a plan and it succeeded.
He would have given Kate's morale a boost. She would have become a woman
who chose to remain single, not one spurned. Indeed, she would have been
sought after by one of Johnstown's most eligible bachelors. And, if
Charles Cover was correct in his calculations, he would then be free to
win his heart's choice, Carrie, without recrimination. Charles Cover, it
would appear from the record, was something of a risk-taker, but he was
by no means fool hardy.
Since there is little chance of discovering the truth, let the
reader choose her/his own variation, remembering:
... narratives do not prove; they tell and retell stories
which being true to experience, and not to some abstract
scientific epistemology, are always a confabulation of the
imaginary, the symbolic, and the real. (Steele, R. S.,
(1986) p.268) .
 485

Foreground

THE ENVELOPE

Between the need of the chi] d and the sweep of social

pressures-rres~emt>ra~-a sort-oT'p~ho-osmotiC:-envelope
of transcerid'ing importance:-.~One should never think of
this as a tangible, material structure. It is rather a
PY:OPe~ of t,hat part of the personal ity whfC'h"'TS in toucli'
wi th t e enVl ronment... •
... it seems to grow in efficiency and complication as the
individual grows from childhood .:. and this at least paraTfeTS
the growing use of cortical structures•
...Normally ~ personality has the ability to shut out large
sections of lts environment and to translate those parts that
it takes Tn into usable or Uii""drntandable material. ItlS
the part of the personallty where selection occurs that-r
ca 11 the envelOpe. -- -

James S. Plant (1950)[109]

As the scene shifts from Backdrop and Setting to Foreground, the

subject, Mary Cover, moves into pl ace. The epi graph above serves as a
bridge between the earlier two sections of Part III, dealing with the

larger cultural matrix into which Mary was born and in which she was

reared, and her immediate home environment with her family.

In Pl ant's fi rst chapter, foll owing the introductory remarks, he

tackles the question of security as it confronts the newborn, suggesting

that:

... the envelope is a pretty inefficient affair at this time

(if it has developed at all), so that the mother's real
feelings towards this new event in her life sweep through the
baby in all their harshness or their compelling richness.
(p.12)
As the child grows older, Plant says that we see some children who:
 486

... sense that they have a position in life which is

unassailable because of who they are, and which cannot be
assailed regardless of what they are or do; and we see others
who search and strive constantly for this. It is difficult
to describe a person who feels that he "belongs" - this is
some imbedded realization of being "a part of the scheme of
things" - but it is a real phenomenon, even if it is so hard
to describe. Its wholeness encompasses the entire
personality, endowing it with a certain surefootedness.'
(p.7 )[110]

Plant points out that in the first few weeks of life the infant
seeks an answer to the "problem [of security] in the cuddling psychomotor
expressions of the mother" (p.12). If those expressions are present in
sufficient number and strength, then the "surefootedness" will be
instilled in the newborn, and the "position in life which is
unassailable" will follow.
In the final chapter of this book, Plant speaks about the meaning of
meaning, and returns to his metaphor of the envelope:
... it is the process that stands between the child's
development of his needs and the environmental pressures. It
is the individuals means of protecting himself from the
social trends, or of utilizing them to enrich and work out
his goals. Because the envelope is not thought of as a
physical entity, the reader is free to use any descriptive
allegories that fit his own needs (p.256)•
... If one accepts this concept of the envelope and its
operation, he takes sides immediately in the long-standing
fight between the psychologist and sociologist as to whether
culture is translated or transmitted by individuals. To the
former view this book obviously gives its loyalty. (p.259)
And it is to the concept of the envelope as the mediating process of
personality which allows the developing person to react to the
environment in as life-enhancing a way as possible that this paper gives
its loyalty. let us turn, now, to a consideration of how such a process
unfolded in the life of Mary Cover in her formative years.
 487

Nuclear Family Beginnings

Carrie Louise Cover: Mother

Mary's anecdote about her mother, as told to an earlier
interviewer, is fitting testimony to the mothering Mary received:
Nobody ever loved me in the same way as my mother did,
unselfishly and completely. (see Part II, 0.166)
Mary orefaced this by saying that she had seen an older woman "on a
street corner recently in Carmel ... " who reminded her of her mother. By
"recently," Mary was referring to the early 1980s when she was, herself,
in her mid-80s.
The sight of the stranger on the street corner who reminded Mary of
her mother, brought with it some concrete detail. Mary recalled that as
a very young child she would kneel on the stairs that led up to her
bedroom on the second floor and she would say her prayers aloud for her
mother to listen to every night at bedtime (see above p.166 in Part JI).
The sense of warmth and intimacy that this nightly ritual gave Mary
stayed with her, long after she gave up her ties with the orthodox
theology from which the ritual derived. Plant, quoting from Peter Blos,
exoresses the idea that might have fit Maryls later feelings, when during
her coll ege days at Vassar she stooped attending church as an outcome
from a philosophy course. The quotation, taken from an adolescentls
attempt to explain his feelings about religion, is, "lim religious, but
in going to church lim not expressing .!!!.l religion"40 (0.78).[111]
Plant states a similar thought when speaking about adolescent
conflicts over church attendance, saying:
 488

No del i nquency is i nvo1 ved in thi s break wi th church

observances, but the chi1d... [can develop tensions] from the
fact that his culture constantly refuses to distinguish
religious experiences from the formal symbols for these.
Consequently he has a more difficult time in fitting his
nonattendance at church with the natural need to feel that he
is a "regular" part of his culture, than he has in
questioning the formal claims of the church he has attended.
Children tell me rather easily "I am really deeply religious
- it's only that I can't bel ieve what they teach." (p.27)

In Mary's later years she recalled Harold's feelings about nature,

saying that she believed that those feelings were akin to religious ones

for Harold (see Part II, pp.217-218). She adds that for Harold this was

a sol itary experience. Mary, in her 1ater years, occasionally attended

church with her daughter, Lesley, and especially enjoyed a hymn, which
she sometimes found herself singing when she was alone at home (see Part
II, p.397 and Appendix F, item 144). This hymn is in praise of nature.
It includes the lines, "for the love which from our birth, over and
around us 1ies."

Mary's sister, Louise, it may be recalled felt strong ties to the

natural world, and as a young adult she studied botany at the graduate

level at Columbia University. Later she lived on a dairy farm and wrote

about her experiences during those years for newspapers in her community
(see Appendix F, items 72 and 73, and especially item 137).

What these incidents suggest is that Mary grew up in

an environment that was loving and nurturing. The feelings of warmth and

inti macy that Mary experi enced as a young ch 11d wi th her mother
approached what some might call "sp t r t tua l ," They were not sol itary

experiences, as were Harold's experiences with the natural world. They

were interpersonal and empathic. It may not be mere coincidence that

Mary's husband and sister (with whom Mary's emotional ties grew closer as
 489

the two of them grew older), found their sense of God to be in nature,
and that Mary's hymn of choice in her later years linked nature with a
surrounding love from birth, reflected graphically in the early memory of
the nightly ritual on the stairway, with her mother.
Not unrelated as well is Mary's expression of appreciation of her
mother's trait of sociability. Mary states:
She was a social and community person: she belonged to
several organizations with other women. She was more
sociable than my father. (see Part II, p.166)
One way that Mary's mother manifest her sociabil ity was by singing in
local musicals and operettas (see Part II, p.167). This is, after all,
in itself an inspiring trait. Mary may have come by her own sociability
through the influence, at least in some measure, of her mother.
From these examples it is easy to see that Carrie Cover fits well D.
W. Winnicott's description of the "good enough" mother:
When the facilitating environment is good enough (this always
means that there is a mother who is at first given over to
her job of infant-care, gradually, and only gradually
reasserting herself as an independent person) then the
maturational process has its chance. The result is that the
infant personal ity achieves some degree of integration, at
fi rst under the umbrell a of ego-support (the mother's
adaptation) and in time more and more an achievement that
stands on its own legs. (1965, p.239)
With Carrie there, Mary could grow, and reach out at her own pace,
to take what she needed from the world beyond her home, negotiating the
"translation" of the culture that Plant speaks about, "to enrich and work
out her own goals," as her life unfolded (p.259).
 490

Charles Cover: Father

Mary·s early memory of her evening ritual of saying her prayers on
the stairway was accompanied by another one, about her father. He
sometimes used the living room of their home as a study. His desk was
there, and he would work at it in the evenings. Whenever that happened,
said Mary, IIWe children sometimes had to keep quiet... that's where he
worked, in the living room... while the rest of us read qute t ly" (see
above, p.167).
This early memory of Mary·s father paints an interesting contrast
with Mary·s memory of her mother. It also portrays a picture quite
different from the more active and interactive reports about Charles
Cover in the local press and in John Cover's family chronicles (see
Appendix F, items 3, 4, 5 and 10). The public Charles Cover fits the
biblical and republican traditions of individualism noted in the section
above, The Setting. His interest and participation in Chautauqua for
many summers also suggest intimations of self-improvement akin to the
Whitmanesque expressive individualism. These aspects of Charles'
personality were not apparent, however, to his very young daughter. The
private man, her father, was a man preoccupied often with business and
commerce, which demanded quiet in the household; so that he could
concentrate upon those serious matters.
One memory does not make the man, but it does offer a contrast
between Mary·s parents, as they appeared to her, and it sets a tone.
There is another memory, recollected many years later by John, when
writing about his f'athers last illness (Appendix F, item 5, o.s). John
recalls his visit to see his father in the hospital. As John prepared to
 491

leave, planning to return after taking his mother to dinner, Charles

urged his son to "avoid the cost of coming back... by streetcar." John
states, "I assured him that I would walk, which I did." The poignancy of
this interchange between father and son is heightened by the realization
that the father is on his deathbed and that, in a quite literal sense,
his son is complying with a last wish.
This is an example par excellence of the kind of trait that Benjamin
Franklin extolls, as the prototypical utilitarian individualist, renowned
for such maxims as IIWaste not, want not," and even more apropos, "A penny
saved is a penny earned" (see Weber, pp.48-53; Bellah et aI., p.32).
It is only fair to add, however, that the Narrative of this paper is
filled with examples of Charles Cover1s generous care of his family. All
three of his children received fine educations at leading colleges and
universities. Louise was treated at the best medical facilities of that
day for her recurrent tubercul osi s. The fami 1y took repeated summer
vacations at Chautauqua.
The children were given lessons, beyond the public school regimen -
John studied violin, Mary took piano lessons, and Louise studied nature
lore.
On Saturdays Charles shopped for fresh seafood for the family dinner
table. Mary especially recalled having fresh oyster stew prepared by her
mother, whenever her father was able to buy the oysters at the market.
Charles Cover was, in short, an exemplary middle-class man of his
time and place, with a foible or two to make him human.
 492

John Higson Cover: Firstborn

Carrie and Charles were married by the minister of Carrie's church
in the home of her paren ts on November 18th, 1890. John, t hei r
firstborn, arrived almost a year later, on October 29, 1891. He was an
only child for not quite five years. How he responded to the birth of
his little sister, Mary, is not known. When his second sister, Louise,
arrived, completing the family group, John wrote two poems (Appendix F,
item 23). By that time he was almost nine years old, and Mary had turned
four about a month prior to Louise's birth. The most outstanding
positive characteristic of John's poetic productions may well be
verisimilitude. John appears, at the age of nine, to have a firm grasp
on real ity.
According to Mary's memory, Louise, as she grew into a toddler,
exhibited quite a bit of competitiveness towards her older sister for
John's attention and affection (see Part II, pp.169-170). Mary, however,
felt quite certain that she held a favored place in John's affection,
from early childhood, through the teenage years, and on into their adult
years.
John introduced Mary to the social protocol of adolescent behavior
when they were at Chautauqua, taking her to the tennis court with him and
hi s date. Back in Johnstown, he took her to school dances in the park
(see Part II, p.170).
Mary followed in John's footsteps in high school by becoming editor
of the school newspaper (see p.182).
When Mary was thwarted in her hope of majoring in psychology in
undergraduate school, she turned to economics, which was her brother's
 493

field of endeavor. She recalled writing one of her best papers, her
senior thesis, on the History of the Socialist Party in the United
States. While gathering data for this paper, she met Norman Thomas,
through John, and was able to interview some key people affiliated with
the social ist journal, New Masses, al so through John's connections (see
p.203). During this hiatus in Mary's professional goal, John was there as
a kind of liason mentor. He eased the transition for her from psychology
to an alternative major, until Mary found her niche under Robert
Woodworth in the graduate psychology program at Columbia.
He was there, when she first arrived in New York, with an apartment
for her and her friend Lois to occupy in the same building where John and
Ebba were 1iving.
John was bestman at Harold and Mary's wedding.
It was John who met the plane in New York when Mary arrived back in
the States after Harold's untimely death in Paris.
All of these details are not catalogued as a contrast between John's
relationship with Mary and her sister Louise, although they probably
helped Mary feel secure about her place in John's affection. As a matter
of fact, John was on hand for all members of the family in emergencies.
For example, when Louise suffered from one of her bouts with
tUberculosis, she was brought to a sanitarian in Denver, one of the best,
where John was living at that time.
John was also present (as noted above) during his father's last
illness. He helped his mother cope with the trauma of her husband's
death and all the details of reorganizing her own life.
 494

It was John who kept the family archives in the form of old
newspaper clippings and his "Cover Notes."
Lest this catalogue begins to sound too fatuous to be true, let it
be noted that there are hints that the harmony between father and son was
not quite as finely tuned as the relationship between mother, son and
sibl ings. First of all, there is John's version of his parent's
courtship, previously cited. Then there is John's political orientation,
as a socialist, which is a mirror image of his father's staunch lifelong
membership in the republican party. Finally, the anecdote about the
street car fare suggests that the son is quite aware of his father's
foibles, and not above pointing them out to others.
Nonetheless, John's behavior as only son and big brother is
exemplary. Perhaps being the only child for five years gave him a solid
sense of security. Dr. Plant offers a hint about the dynamics of sibling
rivalry that also may help to explain John's behavior. Plant suggests
that the older sibling "may attempt to hurt the baby in various ways or
he may shower him with solicitude and affection" (p.231). Plant
continues:
The latter type of behavior is frequently taken to be the
cht l d's atonement for his jealousy, but more frequently his
reasoning is: liMy mother gives me less interest, she gives
the baby more. If I am good to the baby, she wi 11 1i ke me
better (give me more time and interest)." (pp.231-232)
This does seem to sum UP the way that John lived his life in his family
of origin.
 495

Opening Act
Fathers and Autonomy ~ Women

Exactly what constitutes "success" for women begs further

definition=--... Some women achieve success in the development
Ef personal talents at the same time that they enjoy viable,
1ntimate relationships with men, women and children•
...Those students who were rel atimy free to concern
themselves with development as persons instead of focusing
primarily on feminine roles we described as Autonomous... The
degree of autonomy and the amount of conflict students
experienced seemed closely linked to their relationship with
the; r fathers... • - --
... Autonomous Developers had relatively positive
identifications with both parents and envisioned lives
combining growtt1="ii"rOduc1ng maritalrelationships with
personal development. They placed less emphasis on careers
than on personal growth and the deveTOj)'ffient of talent.
Marjorie M. lozoff (1974)[112]

This epigraph has been chosen to introduce the section that follows
because it so precisely describes the way Mary's 1ife developed. Before
addressing that issue, however, it should be pointed out that the study
being discussed is about a population that would be representative of two
generations later than the one to which Mary belonged. The young women
in this study were facing educational and career challenges different
from those that Mary confronted in the second decade of the 20th century.
Yet, in motivational dynamics these two generations, those of the college
years of the 1920s and those of the 1960s, had more in common than either
had with the intervening generation of college women of the 1940s, which
would be the generation to which Mary's daughters belonged.
 496

In the same volume from which the epigraph above is Quoted, another

professional, Barbara Miller Soloman (1974), addresses some of these

differences. The 12 women whose brief autobiographies are presented in

this volume are all professional women who are married and have children,

as was Mary. Their 1ives span the 20th century. Some IIgr ew up around
1920,11 as did Mary (p.185). Soloman points out that those women IIwe r e in

various ways connected with the older tradition of social reform, of

which feminism was an integral na r t," One from among that group,
Millicent McIntosh, whose aunt, 11M. Carey Thomas taught Bryn Mawr's women
from 1885 to 192211 gives the message that IIthere was never a time when

she did not expect to study, to prepare to save the world ll (p.185).
For a variation on the same theme at Vassar in the same era, refer

to Ruth Lamb Atkinson's letter to Mary (Appendix F, item 37, DP.l and 2).

Thi s was the same peri od, a couple of yea rs later, when Mary was

President of the Socialist Club (see Part II, p.202). It was during her

tenure as President that Mary organized and directed a Conference that

brought together successful women from many different fields to share

their experience with the Vassar student body. Mary states, "That was
the most important thing I did at Vassar" (p.202, above).

Notwithstanding the above, Mary's heart was in less politicized

goals. Her motivation was focused on helping individuals in self

development, rather than in working towards larger societal aims, however

admirable.

The point to be stressed here, however, is that at the present time,

the beginning of the last decade of the 20th century, it is easy to miss

the dip, and a sharp one it was, that occurred in the generally
 497

progressive reform towards more opportunities for women educationally and

professionally. During those several generations intervening between
Mary's college years and that of those students interviewed for the study
in the 1960s, the progress of women described in the epigraph was not
reflected as a steadily upward curve. In Mary's generation, however,
women were on the rise. The rise began, according to Solomon, 100 years
prior to the 1920s:
The American revolution for women took root almost unnoticed
during the 1820s and 1830s, decades of social and economic
upheaval. The young republic was expanding with the internal
migration of people westward and with the flow of European
immigrants into the country. It was a competitive nation in
which social patterns were not fixed. The goal of making the
democratic ideal real absorbed the energies of reformers.
Suffrage for white adult males was attained in state after
state. Then there was concern with the extention of human
ri~hts to Negro slaves, to the insane, to convicts, to
ch,ldren, and to women.
In 1848 El izabeth Cady Stanton and lucretia Mott hel d
the first women's rights meeting at Seneca Falls, N.Y. Their
Declaration of Sentiments called not only for suffrage but
also for the opening of professions to their sex . . . .The
year 1848 marked the formal beginning of a revolution that is
still in process. (p.186)[113]
There was a decided downward plunge in higher education and professional
advancement for women in the years following World War II. The trend
began in the 1940s and accelerated in the 1950s. It is reflected in the
study from which the epigraph opening this section is taken, although the
passage quoted does not reflect that trend. The reason that it does not
is because the lines quoted were selected out to reflect the data
supporting autonomy and autonomous developers. The study itself compared
those members with samples representing less and least autonomous
interviewees. There were seven in the autonomous category, 16 in a
category called "Autonomous Conflicted" and 15 in the "least Autonomous"
 498

category. For the purpose of thi s paper, the focus is on the category

most like the subject of this paper, Mary.

This is not to say, however, that it was easy for young women of
Mary's generation to follow the path that Mary took. In her high school

graduation class Mary knew of only two other young women who went to

college (although she thought there might have been one or two others, as
well). One was her friend, Winifred Krebs; the other, Virginia Lewis,

the class Valedictorian, who became a psychologist, too (see Part II,
p.186). The impedimenta were different in Mary's day from those that
stood in the way of young women in the 1940s and 1950s. Sociologically

speaking, it may have been easier for highly motivated young women in the

1920s, than those in the 1940s through the mid-1960s or so, to overcome

the obstacles to a higher education and professional careers, providing

they came from middle to upper-middle class families. How then, does one

become highly motivated? Take Mary as an example.

"Call It Oedipal!"

Mary felt certain, in her own heart, that she was her father's

favorite child. In an early interview for this paper, in answer to a

question about interpersonal family dynamics, Mary said:

I didn't, at the time, think of it this way, but now, as I

look back, I can think that maybe I was favored by my father
(l aughter). I don't know why I think so, except that he was
-- when we got to be ready for coll ege, he was very
interested in that, and I have a feeling, kind of, from
what's happened, that maybe I was a little favored by my
father. I was the first girl, and he was my father. Call it
Oedipal, if you want (with another little laugh)! [114]
 499

She added that it became clear to her, as she grew older, that "her
father was always interested in seeing all his children do what they
wanted to do, land he hoped it was getting aheadl'" (Part II, p.188).
This kind of early continuing relationship with the father lays the
foundation, by sanction and approbation, for the female child's
development of her autonomy. There is evidence in the literature,
however, of a delicate balance in facilitating the growth of such
autonomy. That is, assuming that mental growth would enhance a
propensity for autonomy. In an article on early family setting and its
relationship to mental growth from 21 months to 30 years, Marjorie P.

Honzik (1971) has this to say, in part, speaking about affectional

relations within the family and mental growth of daughters:
... the daughters test scores are positively, and at certain
ages significantly, related to the rating of marital
adjustment [of their parents]. The friendliness of the
father to the mother yields the largest number of significant
correlations with the daughterls test scores between twenty-
one months and fifteen years. mIt appears that the father's
affectional attitude toward the mother produces a family
mil ieu conducive to the dauqhters intellectual development.
(p.327)

Mary's father's praise of his wifels lovely singing voice, as he is also

expressing approval of Louise's and Mary's singing about the house, comes
to mind.
Honzik continues:
A close, fiendlymother-daughter relation correlates with the
girl's test score in the early preschool years but becomes
negl igible in adolescence. On the other hand, the father-
daughter correlations are negligible early but become
slgnlflcant from seven years through adolescence. (p.327)
A further finding reported by Honzik that is of particular interest
in relation to Mary's developmental outcome is:
 500

The mental development of the girl in the current culture is

accelerated when she has compatible parents, a father who is
friendly to the mother and daughter but who is not very
expressive of his affection for his daughter. (p.328)
Al though Mary's "current culture" in her gi rl hood was a goodly number of
years prior to the time of Dr. Honzik's data collection for the study
cited, the results do fit Mary's early childhood experience as reflected
in the Narrative above. It will be recalled that Mary did not remember
her family as particularly demonstrative. Her earliest memory of her
father was of those hour~ he spent over business papers at his desk in
the family living room.
She also recalled her Dad's act of consideration for the family's
comfort, enjoyment, enlightenment -- from a new home with modern heating
and summer vacations at Chautauqua, to Sunday School attendance, fresh
oysters for stew, and the viewing of Halley's Comet -- which showed his
loving regard in actions that were life enriching, but not physically
demonstrative.
Honzik states:
Guidance Study results which are to some extent new and
unique are the differences in the kinds of affectional
relations that relate to accelerated test performance. The
subtlety of the finding that the father1s friendl iness, but
not expressiveness of affection, for the daughter is related
to her intell igence1S impressive. (p.329)
Certainly, these findings fit the way in which Mary's life unfolded.
It began with Winnicott's "facil itating environment" given by her "good

enough" mother. That was followed, inappropriate time sequence, by her

father's friendl iness that Honzi k's research found enhancing the kind of
intelligence that leads to academic success. These two benefits, in
proper sequence, would have given Marya good start in life towards the
 501

kind of autonomy that Lozoff's research defined in the epigraph quoted.

For good measure, Mary also had an older brother, the first of a number
of mentori ng fi gures to follow her father's prototypi ca 1 mode 1-
Unobtrusive but al ways avai 1abl e interest and intell igent helpful ness
continued throughout Mary's life. Were she asked for a list of such
enabling people in her lifelong career there is no doubt that the first
name on it would have been that of Harold Jones.

~ ~ is .!.!:Q§! is .! rose is .! rose"

Gertrude Stein [115]

Or is it? In Mary's case, the rose was a leit motif from early
onset of adolescence until its end, as she settled into college life,
around her sophomore year. The rose is a beautiful symbol for the best
aspects of femininity and romantic love. But it is not without its
thorny parts and in Mary's ca~e they took a somewhat atypical form.
While Mary was still in grammar school she had a "best friend" who
was about two years older than she. They lived in the same neighborhood.
This older girl thought she would prepare Mary for her approaching
menarche, but Mary had passed that milestone, even though she was still
in grammar school. She was around 11 years old.
When she was in the fifth grade, a boy in her class brought her a
long-stemmed American Beauty rose, placing it on her desk. Since she sat
at the head of one of the rows of desks in her classroom, his gesture was
a bold, if not a brazen one. She was taken by surprise the first day,
and fel t some pleasure. When he repeated the gesture the next day, and
Mary saw her teacher's blush, Mary felt embarrassed. She did not recall
 502

his bringing her any more roses after the second time. He did, however,
brave a flood, to check up on her safety at five o'clock in the morning,
soon after the episodes of the roses (see Part II, pp.177 and 178).
The story of the boy named Rutherford does not end here, moreover.
During this same period, he invited Mary to go to a stock company show
that was touring the area, with a stop in Johnstown. Aunt Kate
volunteered to accompany the young couple, whereupon Rutherford withdrew
his tendered offer (see Part II, p.183).
Being singled out from one's classmates in this manner could hardly
help causing Mary some uncomfortable moments. The atypical aspects have
to do with the boldness of the gestures, as well as the incidents in
themselves.
The more usual response to early-maturing girls, according to a
study conducted many years later by Mary herself, was for them to receive
less attention from their peers and to be elected to fewer offices in
extra curricular activities (M.e. Jones, 1958; cited in Jones and Mussen,
1971, p.163)[116] It must be pointed out, however, that this study was
conducted with a high school population. Mary's experience, on the
contrary, occurred while she was in the fifth grade.
The attention she received, moreover, at this early period was cause
for embarrassment, not acclaim. The subject is fraught with a great many
complexities and seeming contradictions. The concluding statement in the
Mussen and Jones (197i) article speaks to this:
It is obvious that the findings for this specific group of
girls needs to be particularized for each individual. These
results might be modified also for girls in another
geographical area or social level or in another generation.
(p.165)
 503

What is important in terms of this present paper is that Mary's own early
maturation would seem to have led her to do some of her research of most
lasting value in developmental psychology around the issues of early and
late maturing adolescents, of which the article cited herein is only one
example.
Harold E. Jones (1971), in an article originally published some 20
years earlier (but still timely almost 20 years after the 1971 reprint),
points out that the vastness of the gap between the early maturing girls
and the average mat~ng boys of the same chronological age make:
... the males of her own age... unreceptive [to her more mature
needs and interests] for while she is physiologically a year
or two out of step with the girls in her class, she is three
or four years out of step with the boys -- a vast and
terrifying degree of developmental distance. (0.258)
Dr. Jones' article sensitively explores the dilemmas that face such
a girl, as she approaches the threshold of womanhood:
If she remains in her own age group she is frustrated and ill
at ease; if she moves into an older group she may fall under
parental restrictions and, in any event, may lack the social
maturity necessary to make a good adjustment among others of
greater experience. (0.258)
He continues by pointing out the advantages that fall to the girl
who is a late maturer. They are considerable, but not germane to this
paper. What is important to recognize is that Mary, even with the
handicap of early maturity, weathered these pitfalls without too much
stress and certainly without lasting ill effects. Instead, she used that
experience, in her years of professional productivity as a developmental
psychologist, to research the problem and increase the body of knowledge
needed to mitigate its deleterious effects; a hallmark of emotional
maturity.
 504

Turning now from the thorny aspects of Mary's leit motif, let it be
noted that by the time her high school years were ascending, she was
enjoying a full Bnd active social life as well as an academically
satisfying one. Mary was aware that her socialization needs were at the
high end of any continuum of measurement. This was apparent at least as
early as her grammar school days and continued throughout her life. It
may have been a temperamental characteristic handed down from her
maternal grandmother; the one with the Huguenot forebear; or perhaps it
was a personality factor that she acquired by identification with her
mother. Deana logan (1980) speaks about this characteristic of Mary,
citing the informal rating that three researchers at the IHD did on one
another using Murray's nine needs. The other two rated Mary highest on
"desire for social ties." Mary concurred with their assessment.
Evidence of the importance of friendship ties throughout her life is
replete in the pages of the Narrative section of this paper (refer
especially to Part II, pp.298-300). Mary devoted some of her research
and extra curricular professional activities to this matter, also (refer
to Appendix F, item 65, under the heading for Public Service as well as
PUblications).
Mary's most important relationship with the opposite sex during her
high school years was in sharp contrast with the inappropriate one that
Rutherford had tried to promote in the fifth grade. The relationship
with Ralph began as a working alliance, on the high school newspaper, and
developed into a social one as well, as time went by. As a matter of
fact, it became so successful that Mary was surprised to learn, years
hence, upon attending a high school reunion that some of her former
 505

classmates had assumed that she and Ralph would end up as a married
couple. There is some hint in the Narrative of this paper that even
Mary's mother might have has some misgivings around the same issue (see
Part II, p.184).
Mary herself, however, never entertained such a fantasy, although
there is evidence that she was aware that Ralph may have done so. A
careful reading of "A Pixie's Love ," the poem that Mary wrote and
delivered orally at her high school Commencement, and that was published
in the Johnstown newspaper, sheds some light on the matter (Part II,
p.190 and Appendix F, item 34).
First of all, the poem makes it clear that the romance is a fantasy.
The pixie is not a real life person to be taken seriously by Mary,
although she presents him as a sympathetic figure and treats his
emotional feel ings for the young woman with respect. That the young
woman does not reciprocate his feelings is also made quite clear. She
credits him, however, with having IItaught the girl to lovell, and she, in
touch with reality, turned her affections towards a mortal man. In other
words, Mary recognized what might be called IIpuppy love,1I the dress
rehearsal, for what it was; she appreciated it, but did not mistake it
for the real and lasting love of her life. The Pixie she sees as her
tutor in the art of love yet to come.
Interestingly enough, when she first met Harold Jones, they became
friends; later on, the life partnership encompassed marriage, parenthood,
and their professional careers. This reverses the high school order of
the relationship, which began as a working one, and grew to be social.
 506

Note that in the poem the girl is wearing "a rose in her dusky
hair," but it stays in place. Carrie might have taken heart from "A
Pixie Love:' Many, many years later, two colleagues who knew Mary well
paid her a tribute foreshadowed in this early poem when they said, "Mary
was always articulate {and often poetic)... ," as a prelude to a much
larger tribute (see Appendix F, item 161).
The leit motif of the rose may very well have played a compelling
role in Mary's choice of Vassar College over two of its sister schools,
Bryn Mawr and Mt. Holyoke. Mary saw a magazine picture by a well-known
illustrator of that day who presented a young woman at her desk with a
Vassar pennant on the wall of her room. On the desk lay a lovely red
rose. It was a prophetic sign, perhaps. When Mary visited Vassar
College, on the selection tour she and her parents took, they saw a
bouquet of American Beauty roses on display! (see Part II, p.191). What
chance remained for Bryn Mawr or Mt. Holyoke?
The last rose leit motif that Mary mentioned came a couple of years
later, when she longed for a sophisticated black evening dress. Mary's
mother thought her daughter "much too young to wear black" (Part II,
p.194). Her father came to her rescue and their shopping excursion
yielded a black lace dress, trimmed with a ribbon and a rose!
There is one more link in this romance of the rose, albeit a bit
tenuous. Around the time that Mary met Harold Jones she attended a
magician's show. The performer said that he would toss cards into the
audience and that whoever caught one would be married within the year.
According to Mary's own handwritten testimony, her hand lay in her lap
and a card dropped between her thumb and her finger {see Appendix F, item
 507

44). She was married to Harold before the year was over. The tenuous
connection is the picture on the card. There is a little pixie-like
figure perched on Thurston's shoulder, whispering into his right ear.
Could he be saying, "Go into the hand of the young woman in row so-and-
so, seat such-and-such. She writes poetry about pixies and she knows
about romantic love and sometimes wears roses." Who knows?

Autonomy: The quality of being idependent, free and self-directing

Webster's Third International Dictionary (1967, p.148)

Lozoff (1974) states that "Autonomous Developers had relatively

positive identifications with both parents and envisaged lives combining
growth-produc i ng rna ri ta 1 rel at i onshi ps with persona 1 development"
(p.103). Mary told her earl ier biographer, Deana Logan (1982), about her
award commemorating the fortieth anniversary of the Institute of Human
Development at Berkeley, in which Mary is described as:
1) a charming hostess
2) her husband's helpmate, and
3) a distinguished scientist
In line with evidence throughout this paper, the statement in that award
read the way that Mary would have wanted it to read, with the possible
amendment of number 1) to: "a loving mother and a faithful friend." It

was Nevitt Sanford, also according to Logan, in a private communication,

who sai d he woul d personally have rated Mary hi ghest on "nurturance" (see
Part II, p.298). Mary then said that if that were true, "I get it from
my mother" (Jones, 1983, p.1). All of the above may be accurate, but the
emphasis here should be placed on the characteristic of autonomy that
 508

allowed Mary to make relatively free choices about her life goals and
gave her the ability to be self-directing in realizing them. She makes
her priorities clear to three other interviewers. First, to Senn (1968):
I wasn't very ambitious, I was more interested in being a
mother than I was in being a professional woman, and I never
had to ask for jobs. There were always jobs available to the
extent that I wanted to be useful. (p.21)
Then, again~ to Riess (Jones, 1983):
My family came first, but the job certainly has been very
important. I never thought too much about having a career,
it just kind of happened, and it has been just wonderful.
(p.83)
Finally, to the present interviewer-writer (1985):
I was a mother. And I was doing work when I had the time; I
wasn't feeling professional. I thought of myself as a mother
and a wife, and if there was time left over to do a job, that
was fine. (see Part II, p.283)
The words are not identical, but the message is essentially the
same.
In summation, there is a passage in the long letter from Mary's
former classmate at Vassar, the late Ruth Lamb Atkinson, which closes
with this statement:
Evidently those years at Col umbi a when you were "acqui ri ng a
Ph.D. and a fine husband" on top of all the gifts that I
remember, were well spent. I am so very sorry that you lost
your husband, but I am filled with admiration for the way you
have carried on his work. A community of interest is a fine
thing. We have both been fortunate. (see Appendix F, item
37, P.7)

The woman who wrote those words had shared with her own husband a
lifelong "community of interest."
 509

Mary was fortunate in having the gift of autonomy traced above. Now
the focus shifts to the relationship that evolved between Mary and her
sister, Louise. That relationship also played a pivotal role in how Mary
chose to develop her life.
 510

Center Stage
The Tale of Two Toys

In mx preferred terms ... the adaptive efforts of the

Tndividual involve an interweaving of the separable processes
of assimilation and accommodation;! recursive nesting of
these separable strategies for equilibration; the alternating
application of these separable programs for adaptation that
via .! succemon of diminishing overcorrections, "hunt" for
and "centerl l on reality or .! sufficient equilibration.....
... 1 suggest that the psychological concept of assimilation
be-defined as and ~tricted in meaning to the utilization Of
existing adaptive structures or schemes to integrate or make
sense of new experiential elements, and that"""'"f'fi'e
psychological-concept of accommodation be "'Cfefinedas the
formation of ~ adaptive structures or schemes to integrate
or make sense of previously discrepant experiential elements.
~ so doing, the inventive constructions and the metaphorical
cognitions that .!.Q. frequently typify .!u.!.y beco!!!h
conceptually, instances of accommodation; the rore-co~nce
~ fre uently characterizing imitation can be seen to be
assimilative albeit ~ the invocation of adaptive structures
of external origin). - -
Jack Block (1982) [117]

Commitment scripts, ~ definition, involve long-term invest-

ments in lIimproving things. 1i The vision of ! better 1ife is
firmlx rooted ~.! rewarding socialization of affect Tn
childhood years ....
~ commitment script demands ~ than .! happx childhood. The
foundation in .! rewarding soCTaTization of affect""'1'S
inevitablx tested; the test is whether ~ is able to absorb
inevitable setbacks to emerge with renewed commitments.
Rae Carlson [118]

Metaphor is a tool so ordinarx that we use it unconsciously

and automatlcally:::-. It is omnipresent.... It is
accessible to everxone: as children we automaticaTly::
acqui re .! masterx of everxdax metaphor.
George lakoff and Mark Turner (1989) [119]
 511

With the aid of Block's redefinition of Piaget's theoretical

formulations of human development the two vignettes, retold below, can be
viewed as paradigms of adaptation strategies that recurred throughout
Mary's life, influencing her choices that led to lifelong commitments.
Such commitments were of the order described by the epigraphs taken from
Carlson's helpful article. Therefore, the vignettes should be read in
the light cast by the last epigraph, from lakoff and Turne~ They are
not mere anecdotes about two Christmas gifts from childhood, symbols of
1 ife's eye I ic renewal though they may well have been, if so read.
Rather, let them be seen as concrete representations of an ongoing
developmental process, cognitive and psychological, that began at Mary's
birth and continued with many variations, throughout her long life. They
are chosen as representatives of this process of living through time and
space because Mary herself chose to tell them. They are, therefore,
emblematic memories. When she was asked about family celebrations and
special, seasonal holiday occasions, these are the two examples that came
to Mary's mind and they were told movingly with spontaneity.

An Enduring Doll
Mary recalled that when she was quite young she asked for a doll for
Christmas; one with brown hair and brown eyes. When she looked under the
Christmas tree, however, she saw at a glance that there was no package
that could possibly contain that doll {see Part II, pp.174 and 175~ Her
father must have noticed that quick surveying glance, and maybe the look
of disappointment on his little girl's face, because he said to her,
"Maybe Santa left it at Grandma's house," The family wal ked there, after
 512

opening the gifts under their tree, over a swinging bridge. Sure enough,
Grandma Cover put a large box into Mary's arms and Mary knew at once that
it held a doll, but would it be a brunette, with brown eyes? She was
afraid to open the box and perhaps sustain another disappointment.
Finally persuaded by the family to take the chance, she was thrilled to
find exactly the doll her heart desired! It took some time, however,

before she was able to name the new doll. She knew it must be named
"Virginia," but Grandmother Cover had given it to her, and Grandma's name
was "Mary E1izabth." Since this was Mary's name as well, she was caught
in a dilemma. She felt constrained to name it after the giver of the
gift; on the other hand, she could not bring herself to call the doll by
her own name.
Finally her mother, through gentle persuasion, convinced Mary that
it would be quite all right to call her doll "Virginia."
Silvan Tomkins (1979) has developed a theoretical concept that he
calls "script theory." The epigraphs above from Rae Carlson refer to
Tomkins' conceptualization. Carl son a1 so states that "Tomkin's theory
employs the metaphor of the person as a playwright construing his or her
personal drama from the earl iest weeks of 1ife ll (p.107). Tomkins puts it
this way:
... my script theory, the scene, a happening with a perceived
beginning and end, is the basic unit of analysis. The whole
connected set of scenes lived in sequence is called the plot
of life. The script, in contrast, does not deal with all the
scenes or the plot of life, but rather with the individual's
rules for predicting, interpreting, responding to, and
controlling a magnified set of scenes. (p.217)
The theory, as it unfolds, is quite complex. One important aspect of it
is a definition of a "nuclear scene", or "nuclear script." These nuclear
 513

scripts, with many variations in terms "of large families of such scenes"
(p.229), tend to represent repetitive patterns that lead to less than
satisfying outcomes in life scenarios; patterns close to what might be
called neurotic.
There is another kind of script, however, that Tomkins calls a
"commitment script." These two categories by no means exhaust Tomkins'
classifications, but for the purpose of this paper, it is the "commitment
script" that is germane. Carlson describes such script as involving "the
courage and endurance to invest and bind the person to long-term activity
and to magnify positive affect" (P.UO). The epigraphs from Carlson at
the beginning of The Tale of Two Toys above, flesh out the meaning of
commitment scripts and enrich the characterization of Virginia as the
enduring doll. She is being used as a paradigm for that aspect of Mary's
personality that was committed to improving herself by making the most of
the opportunities life offered her, on all levels; at home, in her
family; at school and later, in her professional life and the homelife
she established with Harold Jones and their children.
Tomkins is using the metaphor of drama, or story, to suggest that
people design their lives, in large measure, and act them out. If they
are not caught in self-destructive patterns that lead to endless
repetitions of failures, then they should be able to design reasonably
self-fulfilling lives. To state it over-simply, Tomkins is suggesting
something akin to what was suggested in the prior section of this paper,
under the heading "Opening Act," around issues of autonomy. Virginia is
being used herein as a symbol ic representation of that part of Mary's
personality which developed along what might be called a traditionally
 514

feminine path, and Mary's choice of such a path was relatively conflict-
free.
In Tomkin's frame of reference, metaphorical though it is, the
emphasis is largely upon affect. In Block's theoretical formulation of
adaptation based on his re-statement of Piaget's assimilation
accommodation models, his emphasis is more cognitively oriented than is
Tomkins'. Both are suggesting explanatory designs of how people develop
psychologically from the perspective of personality as they advance along
their life courses. Specifically, Block suggests that continuity is
achieved largely through an assimilative process. When changes occur
that reach beyond the 1imits of the assimilative apparatus to handle
effectively, then another means of adaptation is brought into play,
ca 11 ed "accommodat i on." I n these terms, Vi rgi ni a represents that
adaptive mechanism of Mary's personality that Block would call
assimilative. It represents the developmental component that moves
smoothly and regularly along well-trod pathways of life. It allows for
continuity with relative security. Virginia represents that aspect of
Mary's personality that closely identifies with her mother: the nurturing
and the socializing aspect. In this mode, Mary would be there for the
significant others in her life. First among them would be her husband
and her children. Later on, Mary would feel strong bonds of love and
commitment to her grandchidren, and to great-grandchildren, still later.
Symbolically, Virginia represents that generational progression that was
psychologically supported by Mary's ongoing commitment: by being given
first to Barbara, Mary's older daughter, then to Lynne, Barbara's
daughter, and finally to Emily, Lynne's little girl. Another example of
 515

this type of assimilative commitment is the relationships that Mary had

with David and Jim, two grandsons. David lived with her in her home for
a number of years. This relationship was a rec tproca l one (as are all
true rel ationships). David was shel tered and nurtured by Mary and he
gave her companionship and devotion in return. Jim's relationship wHh
Mary included much visiting by Jim with his sons and many helpful tasks
done for Mary. Late in Mary's life she was pleased to be able to offer
him finanacial support to complete his education in the field of clinical
psychology.
Family relationships of a lateral kind were also extremely
meaningful in Mary's life, and they grew more so, perhaps, as the years
passed. Even though they did not visit one another as often as they had
when younger, Mary was close to Louise and to John as well. Their visits
were most often by telephone, once a week at least.
Beyond these family relationships of which these examples are not an
exhaustive catalog, continuity existed through many lifelong friendships.
One, with her chum, Winifred, whom Mary knew during high school days,
continued throughout their lives, kept alive by exchange of Christmas
cards and letters through the last years of Mary's 1ife. Mary's friend
and roommate at Vassar remained her friend throughout her adul t 1ife.
During Mary's last year Lois and she saw each other and enjoyed a kind of
Indian summer of renewed intimacy.
Another example of Mary's steadfast commitment to significant others
would be the IHD study members. Mary sent them annual holiday greetings
and telephoned or wrote cards to them on thei r bi rthdays. There were
other friends, of more recent date. For example, Marge, whom Mary met
 516

soon after Harold1s death. She and Marge, a generation apart in age,
became fast friends and confidantes throughout the ensuing 27 years. The
list is long and well-documented in the Narrative. It includes broader
levels of commitment, beyond the purely personal, such as professional
and community responsibilities. It is this order of relatedness that

Virginia is symbolizing herein.

Certainly one of the most significant examples of assimilative
adaptation in Mary's 1 ife woul d be her work on the theme of early and
late maturing children, beginning with the subjects of the Oakland Growth
Study and continued, periodically, with the IG group through the years.
She was working up until her retirement to Samarkand on a possible
follow-up study with male subjects; the study was supported by a grant.
Finding, after preliminary investigation that her sample was too small
for significant results, she was happy to be able to offer it to a
younger colleague to be included in a study of related nature that he was
working on at the same time (see Part II, p.357). This lifelong interest
began for Mary in those formative years cited above; referred to first as
the leif motif of the roses, and again, in this section (see below,
p.522).
The assimilative function in adaptation is not, as Block defines it,
as static as the above recital may imply. He suggests that there is an
"adapt.tve tmperat tve," evolutionary in nature, that states, "ass tmf l ate
if you can, accommodate if you mus t l" (p.286). Assimilation, then,
becomes lithe first 1 ine of edap t a t i on," As such, other types of
assimilative adaptation exist, in addition to the socializing,
relationship examples given above. In Mary's case, her conquest of Latin
 517

at Vassar, after her first attempt had failed, would be such an

assimilative adaptation. It required more effort, or effort of a

different order, than reaching out to a classmate in crisis and offering

her friendship. This Mary did, with Rosal ie Rayner (see below, p.523).

That kind of assimilation adaptation would be an intermediate step

between the numerous exampl es cited above, and the conquest of Latin.
These examples are meant to be prototypic and illlustrative, not

definitively exhaustive. What should be stated clearly, however, is that

Mary's assimilative adaptability proved to be functioning well throughout
her life, serving her commitment goals, which were high in all aspects of

her life, admirably.

Now let us turn our attention to "A Teddy Bear," the "script," to
use Tomkins' term, that underwrites another type of adaptation, which

Block defines as "accommodation."

A Teddy Bear

The story of Virginia had moments of suspense and an aspect of

foreboding, but its outcome was benign. The teddy bear tale is more

turbulent and approaches near catastrophic proportions, but it, too, ends

well. The implications that this anecdote encapsulates came into focus
from an article by the psychoanalyst, John Mack (1980). Th i s art i c1e
about psychoanalysis and biography, in suggesting that diary or journal
keeping often plays an important role in the therapeutic process by

facil itating the recovery of unconscious, forgotten or covert

biographical data, states:

The in-depth study of...diaries may shed light on such areas

as the development of the self - and object relations in
 518

childhood and adolescence, the relationship of writing to

loss and restitution and the early incubation of imagination
and creativity. (p.552)
Mack's reference to the development of "self" and "object relations" in
childhood and adolescence, and to "loss" and "restitution," as well as
"imagination" and "creativity" suggested Melanie Klein's therapeutic work
with children on such issues. This connection then led to a connection
with Mary's dramatic episode of the teddy bear that occurred during her
childhood, on the threshold of an early adolescence, The following
quotation from Klein (1975), speaks to the matter:
The child is... intensely jealous of brothers and sisters, in
so far as they are rivals for the parents l love. He also
loves them, however, and thus ... strong conflicts between
aggressive impulses and feel ings of love are aroused. This
leads to feelings of guilt and again to wishes to make good:
a mixture of feel ings which has an important bearing not
only on our relations with brothers and sisters but, since
relations to people in general are modelled on the same
pattern, also on our social attitude and on feelings of love
This making reparation is, in my view, a fundamental element
in love and in all human relationships. (p.313)
To see how Mary handled her strong conflict around these issues of
aggressive impulses towards those she most loved, the story of the teddy
bear bears re-reading (see Part II, pp.175 and 176). Before telling this
story Mary spoke about her fulfilling relationship with louise over the
years of their adult lives. The Narrative of this paper attests to this,
as does Appendix F, with its corroborating testimony in louise's letters.
Recently a study of 173 men 65 years of age yielded a rather surprising
finding (Vaillant and Vaillant, 1990):
... at age 65 the s i ngl e item of closeness to s i bs... a
subscale that at earlier ages had not been significantly
correlated with psychosocial outcome -- became as powerful a
predictor of late life adjustment as the full 20-point
childhood adjustment scale. (p.34)
 519

This was a study of males only. It is of interest, however, because Mary

and Louise's relationship developed as did those in the study with their
siblings: those whose early relationship with siblings had been stormy,
but changed for the better by college age, had better overall life
adjustment than those who were not close to their siblings in adulthood,
regardl ess of closeness or estrangement between the study members and
siblings in childhood.
When Mary was a youngster, however, the relationship was not a very
happy one. The incident of the fight over Louise bringing her new teddy
bear into the bed that the sisters shared was too much for Mary. She was
not able to control her anger, and the fight led to the teddy bear's
decapitation. Two details that may be of special significance concern
the final outcome. First, Mary's mother fixed the teddy bear: She sewed
the head back on the body; she repaired it. The second factor: Mary was
not punished. Mary felt that her mother real ized that the damage was
accidental, not intentional. Mary had meant only to snatch the bear from
Louise's arms and throw it out of the bed. She had no intent to
decapi tate the toy.
Lest there be some questions about Oedipal implications at Mary's
latency period age, let it be recalled that Mary was now at the age when
the motif of the rose began for her. She was on the threshold, or just
past it, of early adolescence; a time when earlier, partially resolved
family romance issues, are apt to arise again.
Once again, Block (1971) has some well-chosen words on the subject
at hand:
 520

Adolescence is a poignant time, celebrated by poets and

returned to often in memory by the rest of us. No longer a
child and not yet an adult, the adolescent must confront a
surge of... unique emotions, while responding to the
increasing responsibil ities imposed by his cul ture. (p.2)
The poignancy was especially strong in Mary's situation, since she was at
10 (or early 11, perhaps) very much the little girl still, who longed for
a teddy bear to call her own. Simultaneously, she was being asked to
grow up; to substitute for the toy a Morris chair, symbol of a more
sedate and studious age.
This sacrifice was being asked of her while she witnessed her little
sister's being given the teddy bear (notice too, that Louise's other
items on her Santa Claus list were also forthcoming). Then, to compound
the matter even more, Mary's hormones were certainly causing her unseen,
unrecognized, but surely not unfelt stress.
How did Mary adapt to this paradigmatic matter? She "accommodated. II
In the process of accommodation, she developed commitment scripts that
carried her through a long, successful life.
The process that is being suggested as Mary's solution took years to
be fully articulated in her 1ife course. From the record recovered in
the Narrative, one of the first examples of how the solution took an
overt direction was Mary's nursing ambition (see Part II, p.190 and
Appendix F, item 30).
Melanie Klein, in writing about the adolescence period, suggests
that the youngster begins to look outside the nuclear family for role
models, "such as admired teachers" to idealize and "to preserve goodness
and love withi n and without" (p.329). Mary di d not need to look fa r
beyond the parenta1 home to fi nd Aunt Kate, who also happened to be a
 521

teacher (albeit not Mary's). Aunt Kate offered guidance and

encouragement for Mary's bUdding aspiration for a helping profession
career. Klein also suggests that the adolescent youngster looks for
authority figures outside the home to vent anger upon and so "keep some
loved people intact" (p.330). If Mary did this, it does not appear in
this recor~ What Klein adds, however, is of interest to the general
thrust of the matter at hand:
The unconscious belief seems to run: I am able to keep some
loved people intact, then I have really not damaged any of my
loved people and I keep them all forever in my mind. In the
last analysis the image of the loved parents is preserved in
the unconscious mind as the most precious possession, for it
guards its possessor against the pain of utter desolation.
(330)
It is surely this reparative aspect of Mary's personality, growing

out of the early sibling and Oedipal conflicts, that turned Mary towards
her later career goals. By the time she was in college, her ambition
progressed from becoming a nurse to becoming a physician (Part II,
p.203). At that point, however, a confl ict arose. The accommodative
mode, which thrust her on the path of helping professions, now collided
with her ongoing continuity path, the assimilative adaptive mode, which
was well entrenched in an acceptance of the norm of becoming a wife and
mother. Mary then began to look for other career paths that would allow
her to persue the "commitment script" and still fulfill the primary
homemaker role. The one she settled on, finally, was, of course,
psychology: devel opmenta 1 psychology, and doubtl ess the branch was not
chosen by chance!. It was closely linked, probably to Mary's history of
early development, which caused her some stressful times in early
adolescence.
 522

It is as though Mary said to herself, somewhere along the

developmental path following the crisis period that the Teddy Bear
incident illustrates, "I want to grow up to be a woman like my mother. I
want to have a husband and children and be a wife and mother, too. Dad
wants us to get ahead; I know. That's a pretty good idea. Maybe I can
find a way to be like my mother and also 'get ahead.' Maybe I can help
people, and 'make things better'; "' fix them', the way my mother does it
the way she fixed the broken teddy bear! I'll see if I can find a way
to do that. And while 1 1m
at it, maybe I can learn why some people 'grow
up' faster than others, and some slower, even though they are the same
age." Naturally, this is not to suggest that it happened just like that.
After all, it took many years, and one teddy bear episode does not a
renowned psychologist make; but maybe a seed was pl anted around that
period in Mary's 1ife.
Of course, had it not have been for Mary's autonomy, discussed
above, fostered during these same formative years by her father, these
early goals might never have been achieved.
Perhaps the most dramatic example of how themes of restitution and
reparation were demonstrated in Mary's adult life is that of the case of
little Peter (Part II, pp.241-245). This work, under the supervison of
John Watson, the father of American behaviorism, took place prior to
Mary's completion of her graduate work at Columbia and before she became
a developmental psychologist. Mary stressed that the most gratifying
aspect of the case was helping the little boy overcome his fears -- the
healing of the child. But a great deal more was also accomplished.
Through Dr. Watson's supervision of Mary's work with Peter, Watson was
 523

ab1 e to demonstrate that hi s theory was correct: a person cou1 d be de-

conditioned as well as conditioned. In a sense, then, Watson's work,
which was terminated in medias res through his personal disasterous loss
of job and reputation, was completed vicariously by Mary's success in de-
conditioning Peter. This must have given Dr. Watson some measure of
relief, even though it was not helpful to the child, Albert, the original
subject. Moreover, Rosa1 ie Rayner, who had worked with Watson as his
research assistant, must have felt relief and gratitude to her old
friend, Mary, for the successful outcome. Mary's patient work with Peter
helped the child, Dr. Watson and Rosalie, as well as gave to Mary herself
a sense of having been a helpful and healing person, one of her primary
goals in life. Beyond these tangible and humane results, the work became
a milestone in the history of American behaviorism, thereby making a
significant scientific contribution to the field. Quite a feat to
achieve before the age of 30 and prior to having earned her Ph.D.
It may be recall ed that thi s was not the fi rst ti me that Mary had

come to the aid of her friend Rosalie (see Part II, p.199~ When Rosalie
had been reprimanded by the student governing body at Vassar, and
threatened with expulsion for violating the no smoking in the dormitory
rules, Mary comforted her and befriended her. In fact, it was this
episode that turned acquaintances into lifelong friends. Once again,
Mary was able to offer comfort and re1 ief to her friend.
Melanie Klein speaks about the "capacity for identification with
another person" as an important element in human relationships and,
especially, a condition of "rea1 and strong feel ings of love" (p.311).
It may not be amiss to point out that Rosalie and Mary were
 524

temperamentally very different from one another. Nonetheless, Mary was

steadfastly loyal to her friend. Klein continues with this statement:
Side by side with the destructive impulses in the unconscious
mind both of the child and of the adult, there exists a
profound urge to make sacrifices, in order to help and to put
right loved people who in phantasy have been harmed or
destroyed. In the depths of the mind, the urge to make
people happy is linked up with a strong feeling of
responsibility and concern for them, which manifests itself
in genuine sympathy with other people and in the abilitr to
understand them, as they are and as they reel. (ita ics
added). (p.311) - -- -- - --
Mary's friendship with Rosal ie illustrates Kl ein's point. In the
Narrative is an editorial comment supporting Klein's statement (as
underlined above. See Part II, p.297).
Lest the reader think that Mary's reward for her work with Peter
would be her acclaim as the "Mother of Behaviorism," let it be recalled
that such epithet came many, many years later. At the time of this
earlier work Mary did not even receive graduate credit for it, although
it was published. Mary said, "Nobody wanted my reprints; I've still got
them!" That statement was made in the mid-1980s. She added, "so I
didn't think it was important" (see Part II, p.245). She meant
professionally important. That it was important as a meaningful
undertaking for her, personally, Mary surely did feel.
In addition to Mary's social izing endeavors beyond family, friends
and IHD study members (mentioned above), her collegial ties, which were
strong throughout her years at the Institute, many of them developing
into warm personal friendships as time passed, should be mentioned. Then
there was her professional connection with Larry K. Frank, which began
just prior to her work with John Watson (see Part II, p.233). It was
 525

through Mary that Harold Jones met larry K. Frank. This led to Frank's

recommending Dr. Jones for the position of Director at the newly founded
Institute of Child Welfare at U.C. Berkeley (see Part II, pp.258-259).
The move to California, no trivial event in the pattern of Mary's
life course, was more in the assimilative mode than the accommodative.
It required no major shifts in equilibration strategies; the shift was
primarily geographical. The adjustment to the demotion from Director of

the Institute to Director of Research may, however, have been

accommodative. For many people it would certainly have been so (see Part
II, p.259).

Perhaps it should be pointed out that as this discussion is

unfolding it has become increasingly difficult to keep the two

adaptational strands separated. That is because they blend into a life

course so smoothly that they do not appear as separate disjunctive modes,

providing the accommodations are negotiated by relatively mature

individuals, which both Mary and Harold were. In the case of the

demotion, it did give them pause, but not for long. The idea of starting

anew, in California, was so appealing to both members of this marital

partnership that it outshined any momentary shadow cast by the demotion.

It was after Mary became connected with the Institute that her
community contributions began, continuing through the years. It was
then, too, when her many mentoring relationships began with younger women

in her field. She was never too busy to listen to graduate psychology
students and to offer them support and help in any way she could. This
helpfulness continued even after her retirement and her later move into a

retirement residence.
 526

Before closing this section of the Discussion a few words need to be

added relative to Mary's domestic life. Mary's testimony to her happy
marriage is well-documented throughout the Narrative. Klein has this to
say on the subject of marriage:
... a happy marriageoooimplies a deep attachment, a capacity
for mutual sacrifice, a sharing in grief as well as in
pleasure, in interests as well as sexual enjoyment. A
relationship of this nature affords the widest scope for the
most varied manifestations of love•
... If the woman is capable of strong feelings of love both
towards her husband and towards her children, one can infer
that she has most probably had a good relationship in
childhood to both parents, and to her brothers and sisters;
that is to say, that she has been able to deal satisfactorily
with her early feelings of hate and revenge against them.
(p.313)
A bit further along in Klein's text, she adds that if the wife is
able to convey to her husband her love for him and satisfaction with
their marriage, this leads to:
feelings of gratitude and security....these feelings are apt
to increase hi s creat ive powers in other ways and to
influence his capacity for work and for other activities. If
his wife can share in his interests... she affords him proofs
of the value of his work. (p.315)
Mary's sister, Louise, confirms Mary's contributions along these
lines when she succinctly says, "Harold always expected so much of you,
and you always came through for him" (see Part II, p.310).
How Mary's relationship towards her children unfolded is exemplified
by the passage in the Narrative about Barbara's beginning quest for her
religious and spiritual identity in her adolescence (see Part II, pp.303-
304). Barbara was asking her mother for direction, or so it seemed, on
the surface. Maris answer gave the youngster permission to seek and
find her own path, in much the same way Mary was given permission by her
 527

parents. Klein offers this statement:

A mother's capacity to love and to understand her children
will be especially tested when they come to the stage of
ado 1escence. ... [and] tend to turn away... [and] to free
thense lves.s.from their old attachments to them. mIf the
mother has strong maternal feelings, she can remain unshaken
in her love, can be patient and understanding, give help and
advice where this is necessary, and yet allow the children to
work out their problems for themselves -- she may be able to
do all this without asking much for herself. This is an1y
possible, however, if her capacity for love has "'deVeloPe .!!!.
such! way that she can make! strong identification both
with her child, and with a wise mother of her own whom she
keeps"""- her mind. (ltallies added) - -- -- - - -
Mary, in another context in the Narrative, refers to Nevitt Sanford's
remarking about her nurturant qual ities, and adds, "Well, if I'm
nurturant, I get it from my mother" (Jones, 1983, ~1; refer to Part II,
p, 298).

Turning once again to the topic of adaptation in Block's terms, many

more incidents in Mary's life come readily to mind. One or two more will
be cited before bringing this section to a close. The reader may find
many other examples in the Narrative text. Once again, let it be said,
the intent is to illustrate a range of the spectrum, not to exhaustively
list all the available examples.
Mary's attempt to major in psychology at Vassar which Dr. Washburn
thwarted was handled adroitly by Mary. It could have been a disasterous
experience for her. Instead, she accommodated admirably by turning to
economics, her brother John's major, and pursuing it with aplomb.
Because Mary's heart was set, by that time, on psychology as her major,
it would seem that Mary's adaptation would fall into the accommodative
mode. She "accommodated" so smoothly, however, that some doubt arises as
to whether this may not have been, after all, an assimilative stategy
 528

(see Part II, pp.206 and 207). Perhaps this example of adaptation falls
into a grey area between, or on a borderline of, the two modes. Maybe it
is an example of Block's quotation from Piaget of lithe adaptive
imperative: 'Assimilate if you can; accommodate if you must!'" (p.286).
In any case, Mary rose to the crisis most effectively. Doubtless the
support of her brother John was helpful. Economics was his field. He
was the one who was acquainted with Norman Thomas, and he was helpful in
Mary's having access to staff members of New Masses, the periodical, for
interviews helpful to her writing the senior paper which she felt was one
of her best (Part II, p.203).
Once she graduated from Vassar, she sought admission into graduate
school at Columbia, applying to Dr. Woodworth, head of the psychology
department. Her ability to switch majors, do well in her field of
compromise, and then return to her first choice after the successful
switch may have contributed to Dr. Woodworth's accepting her with such
alacrity. She demonstrated a high degree of motivation, tenacity and
determination, as well as flexibil ity. This was obviously a dedicated
student, who had turned a possible defeat into a successful outcome. The
new venture would also lead Mary to meet her future mate. It was,
indeed, a successful adaptation.
As a final example, at this juncture, of the accommodative strategy
of adaptation, Harold's death, in 1960, must be cited (Part II, pp.327-
336). This was probably the hardest task of adaptation Mary had to
maste~ Only the aging process and the approach of her own death could
begin to compare with her pain and grief at the loss of her life partner.
The manner in which Mary coped with that accommodation will be examined
 529

below.
Many years after Harold death, in the mid 1980s, Mary said that she
was reconciled to Harold's death just as he began his retirement. The
reason for her sense of acceptance rested upon the traumatic blows she
was beginning to feel from her own aging. She said she was glad that
Harold had not had to face the frustrations that age brings with the
losses that accompany it, inevitably, even if at a slower rate of
attrition for some aging persons than for others.
Mary coped beautifully (Part II, pp.332-337). Having friends as
well as family helped immeasureably, of course. The major factor in her
excellent accommodation, however, was surely the opportunity to do
meaningful work in a new setting. Part of the ease of this adaptive
measure lay in the fact that the person offering it to her was an old and
trusted friend and colleague, Nevitt Sanford. Another plus was that she
was able to stay in her home setting on weekends while in the new setting
at Stanford during the week. In the new setting there were a few
familiar faces, in addition to Dr. Sanford.
Also, it was at Stanford that she met Marjorie Lozoff, and added
Marge to her list of trusted friends.
One wonders what measure of impact Mary's earliest memory of a death
in the family may have had on her later, some 55 or so years later,
when she experienced the loss of the most important person in her
adult life. She was a young child when her baby cousin, Richard, died.
Mary had felt strong affection for this baby, and she felt the pain of
grief at his death. She also witnessed the grief-stricken father's pain,
immediately after the child died and the memory stayed with her
 530

throughout her life (see Part II, p.llO). Although Mary did not say so,
one may conjecture that she perceived, as time unfolded, how her family,
\
especially her aunt and uncle, the baby's parents, coped with this loss.
The impact of Harold's death upon Mary's life was profound. It
strengthened her dedication to the longitUdinal studies at the IHO, as
well as to her ties with the members themselves. Evidence for this is
replete in the Narrative history. For example, an attempt at moving into
the retirement home to which she did, finally, move some years later, may
have been abortive, in part, because of her sense of unfinished business
back at her office, as emerita staff, at the Institute. Without putting
it in words, Mary acted as though she were trying to extend Harold's life
work, by adding her own contributions to their joint professional legacy,
after his death. This was not a sacrifice, it was a labor of love.
These remarks are meant in no way to minimize the contribution Mary
made while at Nevitt Sanford's Institute at Stanford. As late as 1982,
Mary's work there, in the early 1960s, was being cited as seminal, in a
field new to Mary at that time, the study of alcoholism (Part II, p.338).
Her data base was the IHO members. Commitment scripts, in a successful
life course, are "able to absorb inevitable setbacks to emerge with
renewed commitments" as well as with successful accommodations.
How Mary was able to weave together so harmoniously two paths of
lifetime endeavors -- love and work -- will be explored next.
 531

Play ~ the Thing

Integrity is the subject at hand, as it is defined in Webster's

Third International Dictionary (1967), beginning with "integri," a
combined form from Latin, meaning "whole; entire," then the word itself,
"integrity" means, "La, an unimpaired or unmarred condition. Lb, an
uncompromising adherence to a code of moral, artistic, or other values
: utter sincerity, honesty, and candor: avoidance of deception,
expediency, artificiality, or shallowness of any kind.
2: the quality or state of being complete or undivided; material,
spiritual, or aesthetic wholeness: organic unity" (p.1174).
It is in the above perspective that the discussion of play and
creativity will be viewed. The argument is that it is that activity
which begins in infancy and continues throughout the life of a human
being. At first it is called "playing;" later it is given names such as
"recreati on,' "fun;' "enterta i nment," "hobbt es," "cu 1 tura 1 act i vit i es,"
to name some representative examples. It is an experience that leads to

a wholeness. of the person; an integrated personal ity which might be

defined by some (if not all) of the qualities mentioned in the
definitions above. It is an experience that is active, rather than
passive. It requires participation by the person who is experiencing
play.
The question is how did Mary, whose life is the subject of inquiry,
manage to achieve an integrated life, as the term is defined above, that
encompassed her family, her husband and children, and her work with such
 532

success? The successful human being, that is, the mentally healthy
person according to Freud (it is said), is someone who has achieved a

satisfying 1ife in the two realms of love and work. Mary did so. The

question being addressed here is how did she manage to do it in such a

well-integrated way? The answer being ventured is that she achieved her

integrated personality, her integrity, her se1fhood as wife and mother

and outstanding professional, through the process of play or the medium
of playfulness.

Looking first to Buhler and Marschak (1968), they have this to say

about the matter:

Primary creativeness, t.e., when the individual engages in an

activity which results in the discovery of new potentials, is
observable from about the infant's second week of life. The
playful finger movements which the baby watches and
"experiments" with constitute one example; another is his
strenuous effort to imitate the sounds an adu1 t makes in
talking to the child....Yet another is his attempts toward
what we consider to be ordering or integrating processes.
None of these activities originates as a consequence of any
outside pressure, be it that of reality or of society. They
are autonomous, even if later in their development a
pressuring environment enhances productivity and ordering.
(p.93)

It is the playfulness and the spontaneity that characterizes these

activities of the infant that should be addressed. These early

activities, according to Buhler and Marschak, which are in the service of

need satisfaction and are basic tendencies of the human being, have the

"implicit ultimate intent" of self-development and "the mastering of

reality" as well as "an integrated actualization of the individual's

potentia1s." Among the basic tendencies they include "c r e ative

expansion", whi 1e c1 early postu1 ati ng that those tendenci es are "i nnate

in kind and in gradation" (p.94). Buhler and Marschak add, however,

 533

that, as is true with other dispositional traits, "they can be influenced

amd molded by the environment."
A personality theorist, Salvadore Maddi (1965) has some interesting
ideas on the subject of motivation for creativity. He attacks what he
considers "a couple of old wives' tales about creativity" (p.330). The
first is that there is a necessity for a "free and unevaluative
surrounding for the vigorous development that could underlie later
creativity." The second, that "a person is not likely to be creative if
he is in a state of strong frustration and torment" (p.331). He
documents his refutation of these tales by data from a study that he
conducted, as well as examples of creative output of high order by
outstanding men from various fields.
Next, Maddi turns to the reason that he bel ieves this myth about
creativity arose, tracing it back to the very concept of play cited above
(but not specifically so referenced). Maddi states, in summary:
Charming though this child-oriented view of creativity is, I
think it is seriously flawed. The major difficulty is that
it does not include any active push, intention, motivation
that leads a person inexorably, at whatever cost, toward
creative functioning. (p.333)
Let it be noted that this is not true in the case of the Buhler and
Marschak statements quoted above. On the contrary, they point out the
autonomous and basic nature of these tendencies whose intent is mastery
of reality. Although Maddi's opening statements may well be more
provocative than cogent, he nevertheless proceeds to define creativity in
a manner worth presenting. He makes a statement, then poses a question:
The creative act is not only novel, but valuable as well. In
the context of pluralistic approach theorizing, what might be
the motivational aspects of personality that are likely to
 534

lead to consistent production of novel and valuable acts?

(p.337)
His answer that follows is:
... there are two motives involved -- the need for quality and
for novelty. •..The person motivated toward quality wants to
exercise his capacities in such a way that he sees himself
doing things that are special and valuable in his own terms•
... functioning in ways that he himself believes to be
excellent. mit is this motive that leads to persistence in
the development and expression of talents and skillsmthis
persistence is one of the most salient factors in the lives
of people who have consistently produced creative acts.
(p.337)
Then Maddi turns to the consideration of the characteristic of
novelty. He states that this need is evident in the creative person's
sense of reward when achieving "the unusual, the rare, the unlikely, the
unexpected" leading to "the pleasant emotional response of surprise,
while its absence brings the unpleasant emotional response of boredom"
(p.338).
This emotional response to novelty has been documented in other
sources, such as the MacKinnon study (1964) as well as other MacKinnon
studies (the 1964 study is referred to in Note 24).
It should be mentioned that Buhler and Marschak are speaking
primarily, in the passage cited, about the infant and young child,
whereas Maddi clearly is speaking about the adult making creative
products. Buhl er and Marschak mention the "mastery of real ity" as well
as "an integrated actual ization of the individual's potential s" as part
of the "i mpl icit ul ti mate attempt" of early infant pl ayful ness. Maddi,
in speaking of the importance of novelty, mentions the "pleasant
emotional response of surprise, while its absence brings the unpleasant
emotional response of boredom," which sounds very similar to an adult
 535

variant of the "playfulness" expressed by B~uhler and Marschak's

description of the "discovery of new potentials" as early as the
"infant's second week of life." Maybe Maddi's novel ty and fl ight from
"boredom" is, afterall, only playfulness grown older, and more developed.
leo
Turning now to Erikson, as was noted in Part I (see pp..mff), his
emphasis is weighted on ego mastery, although he certainly allows for the
pivotal role of playas intermediary between fantasy and reality. The
summary statement in Part I will not be repeated here. Rather, one or
two new perspectives will be added from another source, before turning,
once again, to Winnicott for 'a final view of the matter.
Ravenna Helson (l968a), whose research on women and creativity is
impressive, has this to say that touches the issues examined above under
A Teddy Bear:
The older child cannot compete with a younger one in behavior
which el icits attention or cuddl ing so well as he can
compete, by virtue of his maturity, in intellectual or
physical skill, which brings esteem. Thus oldest children,
especially girls, often show advantage over persons of other
sibling positions on tests of verbal intelligence (Koch,
1954; Rosenberg & Sutton-Smith, 1966). (p.590)[120]
This observation fits Mary's lifelong educational interests. She
was certainly verbally talented. There was her editorship of the high
school newspaper, her Pixie poem, her later paper in economics, as well
as her many publications in the field of developmental psychology. Her
sister also had verbal skills, as witness her journalistic talents, but
Louise was not in academia. Louise's primary interest was in nature; she
took her master's degree in botany.
Another Helson (1968b) study has this passage germane to Mary's
personality:
 536

...Creative women, in comparison with other women, showed a

pattern of receptivity to emotional stimul i, intellectual
direction and control, "brooding," need for autonomous self-
expression, and resistance to outer expression of
femininity. (p.44)
If "brood" means "ponder" (as it may), then certainly Mary was a
"brooder." She was not resistant to an "outer expression of femininity,"
however, unless that phrase is meant to convey resistance to such matters
as fashion, make-up and other frivolous accoutrements, which may, indeed,
be exactly what is meant. In which case, Mary would fit the entire
description well.
Finally, returning to Winnicott (1971), in his Playing and Reality
he states, in the chapter entitled 'Creativity and its Origin':
It is creative apperception more than anything else that
makes the individual feel that life is worth living.
Contrasted to this is a relationship to external reality
which is one of compliance, the world and its details being
recognized but only as something to be filled in with or
demanding adaptation. Compliance carries with it a sense of
futility for the individual and is associated with the idea
that nothing matters and that life is not worth living.
(p.65)
Winnicott states that this second way, the way of compl iance, is
recognized as psychiatric illness. It was not Mary's way of relating to

the world. She was one who bobbed her hair early at Vassar, and the one
who voted to oppose entry into World War I; the only one, at first, to do
so.
Turning next to ·Winnicott's collection of essays, Home ~ Where We
Start From (1986), which were published posthumously, several passages
from the chapter entitled 'The Value of Depression' offer a valuable
contrast to the quotation immediately above:
 537

The view is expressed here that depression has value; yet it

is also clear that depressed people suffer, that they may
hurt themselves or end thei r 1i ves, that some of them are
psychiatric casualties. There is a paradox here which I wish
to examine. (p.21)
Next, Winnicott says, "construct tve work is one of the best things to
come out of depression..." (p.71). He continues with the following:
As a medical student I was taught that depression has within
itself the term of recovery. This is the one brig~spot in
psychopatho ogy, and it 1inks depression with the sense of
guilt (a capacity for which is a sign of healthy development)
and with the mourning process. (p.72)
and, again:
The built in tendency to recover links depression also with
the maturation process of the individual's infancy and
childhood, a process which (in a facilitating environment)
leads on to personal maturity, which is health. (p.72)
So far, in those juxaposed quotations, there is a sharp distinction
drawn between compl iance and depression, which, on the surface, sound
similar. Compliance suggests a kind of hopeless acceptance of a lack of
autonomy and a need to go along with the crowd. It bespeaks conformity
in its most pejorative form. Depression, on the other hand, speaks to
the kind of adaptive stance that the episode of A Teddy Bear illustrates,
the accommodative mode that leads to further growth.
The following quotation supports that idea:
... one came to an unders tandi ng of the comp 1 ex stage of
development that Klein called the "depress tve postt ion," I
think this is a bad name, but it is true that clinically,...
arrival at this position involves the patient being
depressed. Here being depressed is an achievement, and
impl ies a high degree of personal integration, and an
acceptance of responsibility for all the destructiveness that
is bound up with living, with the instinctual life, and with
anger and frustration•
... the capacity for concern and to feel guilty is an achieve-
ment, and it is this rather than depression that
characterizes arrival at the depressive position in the case
 538

of the growing baby and child.

Arrival at this stage is associated with ideas of
restitution and reparation, and indeed the human individual
cannot accept the destructive and aggressive ideas in his or
her own nature without experience of reparation, and for this
reason the continued presence of the love object is necessary
at this stage since only in this way is there opportunity for
reparation. (1965, p.176)
Winnicott gives Melanie Klein credit for the insights he states
here.
Once again, returning to Playing and Reality Winnicott states:
mplaying has .! place and a time. It is not inside by any
use of the word.... Nor is it outs ide,... i tis not part of
the repudiated world, the not-me, that which the individual
has decided to recognize (with whatever difficulty and even
pain) as truly external, which is outside magical control.
To control what is outside one has to do things, not simply
to think or to wish, and doing things takes time. Playing is
doing. (p.4l) .........
Play is immediately exciting. mthe thing about playing is
always the precariousness of the interplay of personal
psychic reality and the experience of control of actual
objects. This is the precariousness of magic itself, magic
that arises in intimacy, in a relationship that is being
found to be reliable. (p.2l7)..........
mit is ~ that is universal, and that belongs to health:
playing facilitates growth and therefore health, playing
leads into group relationships.... (p.4l)
In Part I, the discussion relating to Winnicott's Playing and
Reality revolves around playas a paradox that partakes of illusion, and
in adult life can lead to creative endeavors with creative output.
Winnicott stresses, however, the importance of not confusing the creative
act, the playing, with the output; he insists that playing is its own
goal and to see it as a means to an end would destroy the paradox, its
core meaning. In the passages quoted here in Part III, another aspect of
play and playing is being exemplified. The first needs to be kept in
 539

mind, as well, however. The passage that speaks of magic and intimacy
recalls the earlier ones that speak about illusion. Here, the magic is
being invoked in terms of interpersonal relationships: intimate and those
less intimate as well.
In terms of Mary's life, she had many, many fulfilling
rel ationships, within her fami ly, the intimate marital rel ationship, as
well as her mothering relationships. Other of her relationships have
been recounted earlier, in terms of her strong socialization needs. The
point being stressed here is that Mary's capacity to establ ish so many
and varied rel ationships, which incl uded friendships, small group and
collegial relationships, as well as those embracing the IHD study
members, and others of a community wide nature, all attest to Mary's
meeting Winnicott's criteria of maturity.
Beyond this, is the point to which the opening words of this portion
of the Discussion spoke. That is, Mary's achievement of an integrated
life that wove work and love, her profession and her homelife into a
harmonious whole. Surely that integrated outcome was her most creative
achievement. It certainly did not "just happen." And yet, in
Winnicott's term, it was not the conscious, preplanned goal that she
worked toward. The credit, in large part, belongs to Mary's early and
continuing good mothering; Winnicott's "facilitating environment."
There are two paradoxes involved in the creative outcome of a
successful life. One is in the concept of play, as defined by Winnicott.
It can lead to creative products, but it should not be confused with the
product, since, in Winnicott's view, it is not goal directed, but is an
end in itself.
 540

The other paradox lies within the "depressive position," a Kleinian

term accepted by Winnicott. This, when it occurs in a "facilitating
envi ronment" (W i nni cott' s "good enough" motheri ng) can 1ead to
"constructive work...one of the best things to come out of depression,"
according to Winnicott. The facilitating environment allows guilt to
emerge within the child through recognition of its own destructive
tendencies, feelings of aggressiveness and anger towards loved objects.
Acceptance of responsibility for such feelings leads the child to efforts
towards restitution and reparation. This (as discussed above under the
heading of A Teddy Bear) is what appeared to happen in" Mary's childhood.
The process is circular, according to Winnicott. Unless there is
restitution and reparation, the all-too-human characteristics of
destructiveness, in the form of aggressive feelings often accompanied by
hostile and destructive acts, can not be tolerated. This is why the
facilitating environment is mandatory; so that these guilt-inducing life
experi ences can be accepted and worked through ina maturi ng, healthy
manner.
Play becomes part of this process. It binds love with constructive
work into the fabric of the personality of an individual, which leads, in
time, to integrated patterns in the life process of healthy persons.
In Mary's life this outcome can be seen in quite concrete terms.
She and Harold worked productively together in their professional lives.
In their personal lives they had a good marriage and with their children,
a happy home.
 541

Denouement: Integrity vs. Despair

We do not bel ieve that dec1 ine or loss of function, or

regress:ron ~ be regarded !! deveTOiJment. Temporary
regression l ! part of the ebb and flow of developmental
process, but the eventual outcome of development is forward
and new. - - - -

... the biological changes of adulthood commonly result in

dec1 ine and loss of function. Such change is nevertheless
instrumental in adult developrri'e'il"£ ParticUlarly in late
adulthood it ~ be ! major stimulus for ~ development to
compensate for loss •••••••••••
Developmental process is the function-and structure-formin
process that para11 e1 s and derives from developmenta r
interaction ••••••••••

... within the mother-child interaction, the mother serves

initially as !!!. external auxiliary ego for the child.
Through identification with the mother, her re y
interventions and the attitudes governing t em are hu1ator
internalized and beCome- part of the chi 1d's own regur afO'rY
functions. These functions gain increasing autonomy as they
gradually become independent of their source in the parent •
...thefj become integrated, organized, and grouped within the
deve op; ng ~ and super e o... as th Y protress... to more
t
definitive struct'U"rlng. A deve opmen a1 in eraction also
takes place with the father and with other closely involved
persons, such as older siblings, grandparents, and parent
surrogates. rn early development, the i nf1 uence of the
broader soci.ocu1tura1 and physical environment is mediated
through these primary dyatic relationships.
Calvin F. Sett1age, John Curtis, Marjorie Lozoff,
Milton Lozoff, George Si1berschatz and
Earl J. Simburg (1988). [121]
 542

Aging

A False Alarm
Almost six months before Maryls 81st birthday she decided to enter
Samarkand, a retirement facility in Santa Barbara with a skilled nursing
component. This was in the Spring of 1977. At that time most retirement
communities that included so-called "life-care" components had a maximum
age for entry of 80 years. More recently, that rule has been rescinded
by many such facilities, in favor of criteria based on the actual
physical condition of the person seeking residency. Among the entry
criteria is usually the requirement that the person be fully ambulatory
(see Part II, p.351; also, Appendix F, item 102).
Although Mary found nothing actually objectionable about Samarkand
per se, and making friends was easy to do, she nonetheless found living
there not at all appealing. The flavor of her discontent is caught most
aptly in her letter to her old friend, Marge Lozoff. She writes, "The
part that turns me off is living with old people. Period." In other
words, Mary did not like living in an age segregated environment,
especially so, considering that she was actually, physically, if not
chronologically, much younger than most of her co-inhabitants at that
peri od of her 1i fee
In the spirit of her temperament, Mary did not simply sit back and
"stick it out," She took appropriate action by consulting a therapist to
help her analyze the situation and decide how to resolve her dilemma.
Once she realized that she needed to return to her office at the IHO, as
an emerita faculty member, unpaid but nevertheless still able to make a
 543

professional contribution, she resolved her problem. She left her

initial deposit at Samarkand. By the time of her leaving, the deposit
was no longer refundable; She had stayed beyond the time allowed as a
trial period. Later, she thought that the deposit they kept helped her
re-entry; so that it acted as a kind of insurance, for a return later.
She returned, then, to Berkeley and the house on Shasta Road, for
another nine years of active, productive living.

Straws in the Wind

Before Mary's initial entry into Samarkand, she had joined a new
group in Berkeley called SAGE (see Part II, pp.349-350; also, Appendix F,
item 101). Although Mary did not say that she joined SAGE to learn
relaxation techniques to help her fall asleep at night, she did mention
sleep problems as one of her most severe "hassles" (see below).
Gae Gaer Luce (1979) writes about teaching relaxation techniques and
similar skills as sleep inducing measures (0.3). This might have been
one of the reasons for Mary's joining SAGE, even as early as a year or
two prior to her first sojourn at Samarkand. Her interest in SAGE was
aroused once more when she returned to Samarkand, perhaps as a result of
the move from Shasta Road and the kind of stress such a move is likely to
induce. Of course there was the stress of her increasing disabilities,
that lay behind the move, compelling her decision. In any case, interest
in the possibil ity of reactivating a SAGE program in her new setting in
Santa Barbara did emerge (see Part II, p.397). She also began re-reading
Luce's book (1979).
 544

There were one or two additional early warning signals for Mary of
what is referred to in our milieu, a bit euphemistically, as "the aging
process." In the late 19605 or early 1970s Mary suffered a hearing loss.
A not uncommon accompaniment of aging, Mary's brother and sister were
similarly afflicted.
Mary's serious visual decrement actually began, according to her
ophthalmologist's records, in 1982, although Mary did not find it very
handicapping until early 1985, when the loss accelerated Quite
dramatically (see Part II, p.372 and Note 85).
Even so, Mary was coping Quite satisfactorily with this handicap.
Then, somewhat reminiscent of the trials of Job, another, more
incapacitating physical disability suddenly befell her, about six months
later. Her spine, to borrow her physician's colorful phrase, "began to
crumble." This not only interferred with her walking, it was also
excruciatingly painful, and became very stressful for Mary (see Part II,
pp.373-374; especially, also, p.378, "A Moment of Despair").

Hassles and Uplifts

Prior to Mary's serious back problem, around the time that her
eyesight became critically impaired, Mary filled in two research
instruments, "The Hassles and Uplift Scales" (see Appendix E). These
scales were designed to be given in tandem as a single instrument. The
rationale for asking Mary to fill in the scales was to use the
information as a projective device to tap into the state of mind of the
subject relative to the current situation in her life at the time of the
interviews eliciting her life history; thereby helping in the assessment
 545

of how her outlook on her current situation might be influencing her view
of the pas~ For example, Neugarten (1979), referring to "work done by
Busse" [122] states:
... the psychodynami cs of depress i on are probably qui te
different in the old than in the young and are based on loss
and mourning rather than on aggression turned inward. (p.892)
This is collaborative of Klein and Winnicott1s positions about depression
as an adaptive responsive in the service of development; a regression
that is temporary as "part of the ebb and flow of developmental process"
(see epigraph above from Settlage et ale under Denouement). It fits,
also, into Block's (1982) suggestion about accommodation, that it is the
"active, constructive, Igo[ng) beyond the present state to seek new
equilibriums' (taken from Piaget 1977, p.12)," and "not a passive
adaptation" or merely a conforming, imitative and repetitious mode, more
as assimilation would be. If this is so, then accommodation could
sometimes take the form of "tempor-ary regression" in service of further
development.
It would be helpful to know, then, what kinds of hassles might be
preoccupying and stressing the person being interviewed about her past.
If they were related to relatively recent events, those connected to
losses of aging, for example, it is possible that any depressive aspects
of the stress response would be time-bound to the present and not
pervasive over past events and memories about those past experiences.
These two scales were completed by Mary in the Spring of 1985.
Detailed accounts about the scales can be found in an article by
lazarus and Delongis (1983). Particularly interesting relative to the
matters being considered in this section is a quotation from another
 546

source, Gruen et al. (19BB), which follows:

The concept of vulnerability to psychological stress includes
but does not completely overl ap with the concept of
psychopathology. Strong and selective commitments make a
person vulnerable to psychological stress in that conditions
that thwart or endanger them are likely to be appraised as
highly threatening. However, this kind of vulnerability is
not necessarily pathological or pathogenic. In the same
vein, a belief that one lacks the resources to achieve a
particular goal will increase the risk of being threatened if
that goal is important, but these bel iefs are not, per se,
pathological. (p.759)
In Mary's situation this passage is germane in two ways. First,
Mary had written a grant and it was being funded. Her nhys t ca l
disabilities were beginning to seriously jeopardize her ability to
continue the work commitment and to reach her goal of completing the
study she was undertaking. Since this commitment was in the nature of an
update on some of her early research at the IHD, it was heavily invested
with longterm interest for her. In fact, it was on early and late
maturing adults from the IG sample, and would be an imDortant follow up
study, were she able to finish it. In the second place, not only Mary's
health losses were interferring with this goal, the attrition of her
subjects were another loss -- hers as well as theirs (see Part II,
pp.356-357). Mary was coping. She found Dr. Peskin to increase the data
base. She could not augment her more personal losses, of vision and
locomotion, however. It was stressful and depressing, but her response
was healthy, not pathological. She did not resort to denial, positive or
otherwise. Rather, she looked reality in the face, assessed it
accurately, and dealt with it constructively.
Referring to the lazarus and Delongis article, it was influential in
the formulation of the central question of this paper. To assess a
 547

successful 1ife requires that it be reasonably lengthy. Given that, it

also requires not just achievements, as viewed in a product, but also an
inner accord from the point of view of the person whose life's success is
being examined. An older woman was chosen, in part, because the
achievement of success in a professional as well as a personal life is
more problematic in our society for a woman than for a man. The woman
whose life would be examined has been able to accomplish in both realms.
Therefore, if she concurred with such as assessment, that is her success
in life, then her life should be worthy of close examination. It might
yield clues for those who follow her in time that would be helpful to
them in their life goals. The clues would likely come from the course of
her life and also from the values by which she lived. Therefore,
knowledge of both the outer course and the inner landscape of her life
would be sought for review. Particular attention would be given to
emergent and ongoing patterns, as they might cast some light on more
subjective and less obvious goals and values and commitments. To that
end, the sensitive article of lazarus and Delongis helped the
interviewer/writer sharpen her focus. The article was particularly
helpful relative to issues of aging, as they relate to losses, and coping
successfully with them as the final loss draws ever closer.
Mary's response to the Hassles scale was helpful in revealing some
of her most pervasive concerns at the time of the interviews. The
Uplifts scale, on the other hand, was of little help, largely because
many questions were responded to as though they were about "hassles"
rather than "uplifts." This may have been because of her visual deficit.
Had the interviewer administered the scales orally, the results might
 548

have been clearer. On the other hand, hearing was also a problem. All
in all, the decision was made to ask Mary to answer the questions when
she felt so inclined and at her own pace. In a spirit of not wanting to
increase any "hassling" effect, it was decided not to attempt to correct
the responses on the Uplift scale.
Therefore, only the Hassles will be considered, with one exception.
Mary added, when answering the last question on "Uplifts," which was
whether any of her favorite "uplifts" had been left out, "New birds
eating my seeds." There was a bird feeder on the terrace just beyond a
sliding glass door on the south side of Mary's dining room. She
delighted in watching the many different species of birds that fed there,
while she wrote, or read,or ate her meals, at the big dining room table
on the inside of the glass partition.
Turning back to the Hassles scale, it contains seven items checked
by Mary as having happened within the past month and also being
"extremely severe." Out of a total of 118, the number she 1isted
represents approximately 6%. "Moderately severe" numbered five, or
roughly 4-1/4%. "Somewhat severe" yielded 16 checks, or 13.6%. In the
"extremely severe" category at least five of the seven were either
directly or indirectly related to the symptomoto1ogy of the physical
conditions cited abov& They included such items as "Declining physical
abilities" (this was ~nswered prior to the spinal problem); "Difficulties
seeing or hearing" (combined in one item); "Transportation problem," and
an item she penciled in, responding to solicitation by the scale,
"Medicare forms to receive reimbursement and fill ing in other heal th
insurance forms." Another item in this "extremely severe" category was
 549

"Concerns about meeting high standards" and "Foregetting peoples' names,"

this last item, penciled in by Mary, may not have begun just the last
month. It is certainly prevalent among people much younger than Mary,

as, for example, are auditory and vision decrements.

"Moderately severe" hassles that Mary checked included "Anxiety
dreams", IINot getting enough sleep and rest ," and IIFeel ing confl icted
over what to do. 1I
The IIsomewhat severe ll items checked were IIConcerns about accidents ll ;
IIBeing Ione ly"; "Physical ability"; "Concerns about health in general";
"Friends or relatives too far away;" "Wasting time;" "Too many things to
do;" "Yard work;" "Trouble with reading, writing, arithmetic skt l ls," to
which Mary added, IICan't see."
It is apparent that many, if not most, of Mary's stresses came from
diminishing sensory and physical abilities and from a sense of
vul nerabi 1ity and anxiety that accompanies such losses. At this time
Mary was still living in her home and neighborhood where she had lived
for more than 50 years, and to which she was bound by ties of happy
memories of her years as a wife and mother. That former life was closely
linked with her productive professional life as well.
lazarus and Delongis emphasize the importance of what they call a
person's "central story line ll (p.250). They point out that "whatever
happens is given meaning and personal significance ll by the person to whom
it is happening IIby the more or less stable features of personality.1I
They continue:
Two such personal ity variables, patterns of commitment and
beliefs about self and world are especially worthy of
attention because they shape stress and coping over the life
 550

course. They are not only suggested by our own

conceptualization but are also implicit in many dicussions of
the 1ife course and are part of the current social science
Zeitgei st. (pp.250-251)
The point about commitment and beliefs echoes Carlson's (1988)
article about Tomkin's commitment scripts as well as Bellah et aliso
"Habits of the heart." In the lengthy epigraph from Settlage et ale
(1988), the main emphasis is on understanding personality development in
the face of losses and deprivations of aging.
Included in such losses would be not only the sensory and physical
losses that have been outlined above, but also the earlier loss through
death of Mary's 1ife partner, Harold, about whom she said she thought
daily. Then there was also the loss of status that accompanies
retirement. Additionally, Mary was also concerned about no longer
feeling able to make contributions to research in her field that met her
own standards.

Summing Up
Mary no doubt would have preferred being able -to remain on Shasta
Road all the rest of her days. She recognized, however, the imperative
of the reality principle, and made her decisions based on it. The memory
of Samarkand, for all its beauty of house and grounds and its appropriate
accoutrements, did not beckon. The spectre called up by the line quoted
above from her lette~ to Marge (Appendix F, item 102), put the appealing
aspects of Samarkand in the shade. Nethertheless, it had one shining
point in its favor: location -- it was in Lesley's home town, and much
closer to Claremont, Barbara's new home town, than was Berkeley.
 551

And so Mary moved, methodically and efficiently. She packed up the

tangible remains of her long and happy life in that house, with the help
and support of Barbara and lesley, and Jim and David. She re-sett1ed in
the more supportive environment of Samarkand. And she adjusted well.
She enrolled, attended and enjoyed classes there, and in the larger
community. She assimilated to the rhythm of Samarkand, making new
friends, attending parties and gatherings, even preparing talks and
delivering one in the larger community. Contrapuntally, she kept up her
old ties in Berkeley -- writing to old friends and colleagues and
visiting some of them as well. She sent birthday and Christmas season
greetings to the IHD study members as she had been doing for years, and
much more (see Part II, pp.392ff. for details). She especially looked
forward to seeing family members visiting her in the new setting and they
did so often, in the year and a quarter of her sojourn there. She kept
up her regular telephone visits with louise and John, and louise visited
her in Santa Barbara. All of this was happening while her health
continued on its downward spiral.
Was she happy? Well, not all together. She had her weekly visits,
when she felt able, to her psychiatrist about whom she said, "I need
him." She read the Hemlock Society bible and pondered itshomi1ies.
There were moments of dread and despair. But she fought off those demons
of desperation and lived bravely and fully within the constraints of her
failing stamina.
The truth is not easy to grasp, ever, and never fully. It seemed,

however, that Mary continued to adapt and to develop, in the terms

expressed in Block's article and in that of the epigraph at the opening
 552

of Denouement: assimilatively, where possible; accommodatively, where

necessary. She never relinquished her autonomy. In the end she refused
to go to the nursing home unit in Samarkand, insisting upon her own
apartment or Lesley's home. She refused medication that would needlessly
prolong her life, but could not restore her to health and vigor. In her
own place, with her daughter and her trusted companion, Tom, nearby, she
went qUietly on that last journey from life to death. She adapted
successfully to the end. She did not go fighting into that dark night,
although she characteristically expressed a bit of impatience about how
long it was taking. She went peacefully and courageously, just as she
had lived for almost 91 years.
The legacy she left to those who knew and loved her can not be put
adequately into words because it was unique and personal, for each
individual, neither generalizable nor replicable, but enduring.
 553

Epilogue

For Mercy has a human heart,

Pity a human face,
And love the human form divine,
And peace the human dress.
William Blake (1971)

••• If a man does not keep pace

with his companions, perhaps
it is because he hears a different
drummer. Let him step to the music
which he hears, however measured
or far away.
Henry David Thoreau (1878)

Two roads diverged in a wood--and I--

I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost (1973)

It was riot that Mary heard "a different drummer," but rather that

she listened to a different beat; that of her own heart. It sounded out
a rhythm, "mercy, pity, peace and love" _ following that thread of sound
is what "made all the difference," in Mary's life.
 554

NOTES

1 Sanford's paper precedes, by exactly eleven years, the report

entitled "A study of the 'value' systems of behavioral scientists"
by Leonard Krasner and Arthur C. Houts, which appeared in the
American Psychologist in August 1984, Pp. 840-48. In their
concluding remarks, Krasner and Houts suggest that their survey of
representative psychologists across divisional disciplines leads
them to believe that psychology as a science is not value free and
therefore "it is incumbant upon us as scientists to continue the
systematic investigation of the relationship between our values and
our research" (Po 848).
2 This is not, of course, new thought. As early as 1959, James E.
Birren noted, "Human biography attempts to reconstruct the
experience and trends of individual lives and is much concerned with
what is unique in experience in the path through time. Hypotheses
derived from biographical historical studies can be tested in
predictive longitudinal studies.... Interest lies in identifying
those aspects of patterns of the individual which will remain
distinctive of him over the life span" (B'ir-ren, 1968, p. 546).
Also, Robert L. Havighurst, in 1968, stated, "Old people are more
complex than younger people, because they have had a wide variety of
life histories" (Havighurst, 1977, p. 141). Finally, for an
interesting variation on the theme, refer to Bernice L. Neugarten's
 555

perceptive piece on time, age and the life cycle (1979).

3 This passage resonates with a recasting of Erik H. Erikson's Eighth

stage, Integrity versus Despair, as presented orally at a meeting,

Spring 1984, at the Institute of Human Development, University of

California at Berkeley, by Helen Q. Kivnick.

4 A "lewinian dtst tnct ton" recently revived by Jessor, according to

lazarus and Delongis (1983, o, 247). They cite in their reference

notes a paper: Jessor, R. (l979, June). The perceived environment

and the study of adolescent problem behavior. Symposiium on

Situation in Psychological Theory and Research at lovik, Stockholm,

Sweden. For an elaboration of Egon Brunswik's lens model as a

theoretical conception for examining human behavioral systems in

which the terms IIproximalll and "distal ll are used to describe stimuli

and behavioral outcomes that do justice to multiple interactional

variables, refer to Petrinovich (1979) cited in References below.

5 The work cited in lazarus and Delongis is: Lewin K. (l946).

Behavior and development as a function of the total situation. In

L, Carmichael (Ed.), Manual of Child Psychology. New York: Wiley.

6 Taken from Webster's Third New International Dictionary of the

Engl ish language, unabridged (l967). Springfield, Mass.: G. and C.

Marriam Company, p. 2282.

7 Play will be discussed below in Erikson's terms and also in terms of

Winnicott's theory of playas the source of creativity (Winnicott,

1971).

8 For White's views on the psychoanalytic path, refer further to his

monograph, cited in References, White (1963).

556
 557

18 Refer to Kuhn, T. S. (1970). The structure of scientific revolutions

(2nd ed.), Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, PP. v-xii;

pp.I-22.

19 Allport notes that is the root for ideographic and ideology, and

means "a semblance" or "that which is seen."

20 The explosion of the popular literature in the last decade
expounding on modern physics makes clear to non-physical scientists

and other lay people how very complex even these molecular
structures are turning out to be. Reference is to such titl es as
The tao of physics (Fritof Capra, 1984, revised edition), The
dancing Wu Li masters (Gary Zukar, 1979), The medium, the mystic,
and the physicist (Lawrence LeShan, 1974 edition; Physics as

metaphor (Roger S. Jones, 1982), and God and the new physics (Paul
Davies, 1983).

21 Personality: ~ psychological interpretation, published in 1937,

precedes Murray's Exploration in personality by one year. Note

especially chapter 20 (PP. 549-566), The person in psychology. It

presents some basic arguments for personalistic psychology and

emphasizes Allportfs central law which he calls lithe principal of
the functional autonomy of motives" (P. 558), which he believes

approaches a general law "that tells how uniqueness comes about"

(558) •

22 This is not the place to discuss interactionism in depth and

trace its history from the systems' perspective. But in citing the
life course conceptualization as a variant on life history, the

interactionist position must be acknowledged.

 558

23 A detailed resume of that debate can be found in Runyan (1982), Part

II, Chapter 10, 192-222.
24 By the term "self psychology" the writer intends to encompass
theories that have evolved from psychology in general, not limited
to psychoanalysis, but including object relation theories within it,
as well as theories of the self growing out of social psychology and
sociology. An excellent summary statement that speaks to the
orientation of this writer appears in a paper by Donald W. MacKinnon
(1964), in which he distinguishes between the related concepts of
the ego and the self:
In a functionalist psychology of personality the ego is
conceived to be a system of regulating functions--
inhibitions, reality testing, decision-making,
schedul ing, etc.--which serve to integrate the
subsystems of personality. On the one hand, it affects
adjustment of the individual to the situation in which
he finds himself, and, on the other hand, it permits
the individual to express himself in creative actions
which change the environment and contribute to the
actualization of himself through the development and
expression of his potenti al ities. In contrast to the
ego, the self is conceived of as an individual's system
of perceptions, conceptions, and images of himself as a
person. The two systems are intimately related; the
regulating functions of the ego are obviously
influenced by the complex of percepts, concepts and
images which constitutes the self, while the content of
awareness that the perceiving individual thinks of as
his self is clearly influenced by the quality and
quantity of the functioning of his ego. (PP. 252-253).
25 Gilligan's point_of view does not rest solely upon her own research,
persuasive as that may be. She draws upon the vast literature
accumulating around issues of feminism. Citing especially Nancy
Chodorow (1978), The reproduction of mothering, Berkeley: University
of California; also, Chodorow, N. (1974). Family structure and
 559

feminine personality, (PP. 42-66), in M. Z. Rosaldo & L. Lamphere

(Eds.), Woman, cul ture and soci ety, Stanford, Ca: Stanford
University Press.

26 Piaget (1910), Structuralism (New York: Basic Books); cited by

Gilligan.

27 Gunnar Myrdal (1944), An American dilemma. New York: Harper &

Brothers, no. 1073-78.

28 Refer for corroboration to McClelland et al. (1953) above: their

"striking" finding (p.2,).
29 To summarize this article would be tantamount to the crimes with

which the myth it unfolds deals: that of rape and murder. It

deserves careful reading and yields a rich reward.

30 In seaching the literature on the self, several articles were found

that sounded warnings against an extravagantly individualistic

version of selfhood. Full citations of the most challenging appear

in References. Briefly, they are: M. B. Smith (1978), Perspectives

on selfhood (individual identity and its conflict with group

identity); E. H. Erikson (1964), The golden rules, in White's and

Bruner's The study of lives (issues about uniqueness that could lead

to global war and annihilation); E. E. Sampson (1977), Psychology

and the American ideal (arguing the need for interdependent

collectivity to help counteract dangers of too extreme

individualism). These are cited in recognition of the importance of

a balanced approach to complexities, ambiguities, and paradoxes of

human existence, and acknowledgement of the difficulty of attaining
such an approach.
 560

31 This is the title of one of the subheadings in Part III, Chapter 12,
of The reproduction of mothering. Chodorow also cites in the
Bibliography of that text a journal article of the same title
published in 1976 in Social Problems, 23, 454-468. The same title
referred to herein below appears in yet another text, as cited in
References.
32 Inner and outer space: Reflections on womanhood. Daedalus: The
woman in America, 1964, 93, 582-606. Cited in References in
connection with the Rossi (1964) article.
33 Albert Camus (1956), The myth of Sisyphus. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, Vi ntage Books (p. 85).
34 Most of the chrono 1ogi ca 1 data is taken from The women of
psychology, Volume II; Expansion and refinement, by Gwendolyn
Stevens & Sheldon Gardner. Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman Publ i shing
Company, pp. 39-47.
35 These interview schedules were prepared by the researcher in
consultation with a dissertation committee member, Marjorie M.
Lozoff.
36 According to Runyan (1982, p. 236), Hofling was chairman of this
Task Force, c. 1976.
37 Specifically, Erik H. Erikson (1958), Young man Luther: A study in
psychoanalysis and history.
38 At this point, Hofling is not raising the question of possible
contamination of data through interviewer bias. He is assuming that
the interviewer is interpreting correctly in the hypothetical case.
 561

39 References are to L. H. Farber (1976), Lying, despair, jealousy,

envy, sex, suicide, drugs and the good life (New York: Basic Books),
and A. M. Ludwig (1965), The importance of lying (Springfield, Ill.:
Thomas Publ i shingle
40 See W. K. Estes (1980), Is human memory obsolete? in American
Scientist, 68, 62-69.
41 R. Nisbett & L. Ross (1980). Human inference: Strategies and
shortcomings of social judgment (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-
Hall). See also, Richard E. Nisbett & Timothy DeCamp Wilson (1977),
Telling more than we can know: Verbal reports on mental process, in
Psychological Review, 84, 231-259, for a similar point of view.
42 This is a parallel to a passage from Alice Miller (1981) in The
drama of the gifted child (New York: Basic Books, p. 77), when the
author speaks about analyst's feel ings in the countertransference
that cause her/him anxiety and how these should be handled: "I
always assume that the patient has no other way of telling me his
story than the one he actually uses....all feel ings arising in me,
including irritation, belong to his coded language and are of great
heuristic value. At times they may help to find the lost key to
still invisible doors."
43 Kluckhohn, C. and Murray, H. (1949), Personality in nature, society
and cul ture (New York: Alfred A Knopf).
44 Changes inserted, as well as deletions in the above quotation relate
to the fact that Runyan is discussing archival data about a deceased
subject; whereas it is being adapted here to apply to a living older
person.
 562

45 The content of this quotation may apply more specifically to the

interviewer than to the narrator. Nevertheless, it supports the
larger issue.
46 Furnished to researcher as tool for Oral History in undergraduate
sociology class, Vista College, Fall, 1984.
47 In J, J, Mclaurin (1890) a "Mr. Cover" is mentioned:
Mr. Cover located on the plateau east of the level grounds
where a manufacturing center was to thrive. If the soil was
not adapted to agriculture, minerals abounded in the
surrounding hills. The outlook seemed so promising that, on
November 3, 1800, M~ Johns filed the charter of "the town
of Conemaugh." (p.35)
48 For a fuller account of this interesting system of transportation
refer to Richard O'Connor (1957), pp. 30ff. The railroad system was
called the "Portage Railroad," and, according to OIConnor, was
glowingly acclaimed by Charles Dickens, one of its passengers.
49 For details of the "ups and downs" of Charles Cover's business
ventures, see Appendix F, item 5, pp. 2 and 3 especially.
50 Mary's sister recalls that on the day that Mary named the doll,
Virginia fell apart. The elastic holding the movable parts broke,
and new ones had to be fitted in to replace them. Mary had no
recollection of this mishap, however.
51 For a variant of this story, see Appendix F, item 25. This is a
copy of one of louise1s Christmas letters written to her two young
nieces, Barbara and lesley, many years after the incidents recalled.
52 Children's Phobia by Neville King. This book was scheduled to be
published by Wiley and Sons, in 1986.
 563

53 See Chautauqua in The Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th ed, (1910)

Cambridge, England: University Press, p.19.
54 For two updates on John Cover's composition, see Appendix F,
items 26 and 27. Mary was not the only one who still sang the Alma
Mater John wrote.
55 Mary refers to this experience in several places. See also:
Jones, M. C. (1974). Albert, Peter, and John B. Watson, American
Psychologist, 29, 581-583, especially the opening sentences in which
she states:
I was first introduced to John B. Watson at a
lecture, which included motion pictures, in New
York City in 1919. I had gone from Vassar College
to New York for a weekend and was steered, more or
less accidently, by a friend to this lecture,
rather than the usual Friday night theatre. (p.581)
Jones, M.C. (1975). A 1924 Pioneer Looks at Behavior Therapy.
Journal of Behavior Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry, 6:
I entered Vassar College in 1915.... Our weekends
away from the campus were limited by edict, but
postwar New York, only 2 hr. away by train, was an
exciting place. It was one of these weekends in
1919, the Spring of my senior year, that instead
of the usual theatre outing, a friend steered me
to Watson1s lecture and films reporting his work
with infants.... Watson had chosen ll-month-01 d
Albert, la child with a stolid and phlegmatic
disposition l as the subject of a conditioning
experiment which demonstrated his thesis. (p.181)
and, indirectly, in
Pomerleau, C. S. (1984). In recognition of Mary Cover Jones,
Ph.D. Women and Health, ~, (4):
In the Spring of 1919, a Vassar senior took off
for a weekend in New York City. Instead of making
her usual bee1 ine for the theatre, however, she
headed for a lecture by John B. Watson, a pioneer
in behaviorism ••••
 564

As she pondered Watson's descriptions of his

work with an infant named Albert •••• (p.1)
These three citations illustrate an all-too-common flaw of
human memory. Mary could have heard Watson's views on child rearing
at a lecture in the Spring of 1919. In his autobiography Watson
states:
Back again in November, 1918, to pick up the
threads of my 1abora tory work at the Phi pps
Psychiatric Cl inic, I began to work upon infants
and to formulate my book, Psychology from the
standpoint of a Behaviorist chapter by chapter...
This book was -publ ished in 1919 by Lippincott...
1919 being my last year at Hopkins.
At this time, my infant work was in full
swing, as well as extensive work on learning -
learning and performance under hypnosis, alcohol
and drugs. All of this work came abruptly to a
close with my divorce in 1920. I was asked to
res i gn. (p.279)
The conclusive reason that Mary did not hear about Albert in
the Spring of 1919 is that Rosalie Rayner was not working for Watson
until the Fall of 1919, after she graduated from Vassar. It was

with her assistance that Watson conducted the experiments with

Albert. The publications of this study are co-authored by Watson
and Rayner. The first one was published in February, 1920, in
Vol.III, No.1 of the Journal of Experimental Psychology. A second
article appeared in 1921 in Scientific Monthly, 11, also by Watson
and Rayner.
In his autobiography Watson also mentions lectures that he gave
after moving to New York City in 1920:
After Beard and Robinson left the New School I was
invited to lecture there and did so for several
years. (p.280)
 565

Whether or not Watson gave lectures in New York City before he

left John Hopkins is not clear. That he was studying infants as
early as 1918 he has stated. It is possible that he lectured on
those studies in 1919, and that Mary may have heard such a lecture
then, perhaps in the same lecture hall where she heard about Albert
a year 1ater. If she did hear lithe charismatic John Watson" (Logan,
1980, p.105) first in the Spring of 1919, and not again until he
reported on the study of Albert a year later, it would be easy to
understand how these separate but related events may have been
fused, over the years, into one very dramatic memory.
56 This passage appears originally in O. H. Mowrer (1959, p.129).
Review of R. S. Woodworth, Dynamics of behavior. Contemporary
Psychology, !, 129-133.
57 Mary's sense of good fortune in meeting and marrying Harold Jones is
symbolized by a memento she kept through the years -- a magician's
lucky card that foreshadowed her happy marriage. She jotted down
the details of this event a little over 50 years after her wedding
day. Refer to Appendix F, item 44 for this story.
58 This passage is quoted by Pomerleau (1984) from Joseph Wolpe (1973).
The Practice of Behavior Therapy (2nd.ed). New York: Pergamon
Press, p.96.
59 Mary refers in this passage to her well-known work with Peter,
documented in Jones, M. C. (1924). A laboratory study of fear: The
case of Peter. Pedagogical Seminary, 11, 308-315.
 566

60 In Watsonls autobiography (1961, p. 280) he states:

Very shortly after leaving Johns Hopkins, W.W. Norton,
then a struggling but now a flourishing publisher, got
hold of me and practically forced me to write up a
course of lectures I was giving for Everett D. Martin
at the Cooper Institute. As rapidly as I could write a
lecture, Norton published it in a pamphlet form called
"lectures in Prf nt," This was a strictly rush job. My
lectures were taken down in shorthand and then I looked
over them and rushed them to Norton. later they were
rewritten as Behaviorism. This book still shows its
hasty origin. I polished it still more in the second
edition, finished in 1930.
In this earlier edition (1924) Watson includes a prefatory statement
which says, in part, "Every effort has been made to present facts in
unmutilated forms and to state theoretical positions with accuracy."
In the paragraph immediately following the longer quotation
above, taken from the autobiograpy (1961, p. 280) in which Watson
offers an apology for the haste with which the book Behaviorism was
written, he then speaks about another book, Psychological Care of
Infant and Child (1928), saying that it was "another book I feel
sorry about - not because of its sketchy form, but because I did not
know enough to write the book I wanted to write." (p. 280)
It is important to call attention here to the very different

reasons Watson gives for his regret about these two books. The first
one he feels is an important volume, judging from the prefatory
statement quoted above. This is the volume that cites Mary's
work throughout. He regrets not the book itself, nor its contents,
which he has made every effort to present in "unmutilated forms" and
"with accuracy". It is the second book, and that alone, that he
feels he "did not know enough to write". Notice tha t the
 567

publication dates are four years apart, and the second book was
published later, when he had been away from research pursuits longer.
Perhaps because of the unfortunate circumstance of Watson's
linking these two books together by his sense of regrets, they have
sometimes been confused and referred to as the two books Watson
himself did not believe he knew enough to write. In the case of the
first cited, Behaviorism (1924), it is the style, and the style
alone, that Watson regrets.
61 Although the Director of the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial
Fund was Beardsley Ruml, it was Larry Frank who was best known to
the developmental psychologists involved (see Elizabeth Lomax,
1977, p.284).
62 Watson dedicates Behaviorism (1924) to his businessman benefactor:
To Stanley Resor
whose unfailing interest in both
industry and science has given me
the opportunity to write this book.
63 Taken from John Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 1980 edition,
p.591:2, quoted by Rene Vallery-Radot in the Life of Pasteur
(1927)•
64 For a full but succinct outline of these trends and their evolvement
from past antecedents, see Senn (1975). Lawrence Frank's strategic
role in integrating contributions of various leaders in the Social
Sciences and Education, and helping foster the growth of Child
Development as a discipline of its own within the broad field of
psychology is outlined on pp. 11-24. For Woodworth's important
influence on the field of Child Development, see pp. 25-26.
 568

65 See above, p.82, and the Bancroft Oral History (Jones, 1983, p.
54), in which Mary is quoted:
Watson wrote in a footnote in one of his books that he
had only seen one child who was not afraid of a loud
noise. Well, that was our Barbara. She was home with
her mother and father, sitting in a play pen that she
was accustomed to, and Watson's making a loud noise
behind her back didnlt bother her.
66 According to Milton J. E. Senn (1975), Insights on the child
development movement in the United States:
Dr. Helen Woolley, a child psychologist then at
Merrill-Palmer School in Detroit, [was asked] to become
its [the child study institute's] first director.
Unfortunately, Dr. Wooley fell ill soon after coming to
New York so that the directorship of the institute was
given to Dr. Lois Meek, a child psychologist who had
previously been with the American Association of
University Women. (p.1]).
67. For a description of this research (published by Helen Thompson in
1903) and its place in the history of feminist psychology, refer to
A. Shields' (1975) article in American Psychologist, 30, pp.739-75
68 In Jones &Riess (1983) Mary has this to say about how the decision
between Frank and Campbell was reached:
When Frank came and ta 1ked to Pres i dent Campbell, an
astronomer, he wasn't sure he was interested in
starting an institute. According to Jean MacFar1 ane,
Frank said to Campbell, "All right, 1 111
go down to
Stanford." That made the decison, because Cal wasn't
going to let Stanford get the money. (p.71)
69 Mary followed up on this oral reassurance by writing to Edna Bailey
(see Appendix F, item 57), a professor in the Department of
Education at U.C. Berke1y. Mary had met Dr. Bailey in New York City
a year earlier. She, too, had a LSRM fellowship, and it was through
that connection that they were acquainted. The answer Mary received
 569

must have been satisfactory, jUdging by subsequent events.

70 For further documentation of this statement, refer to Senn (1975,

pp.15-21). Senn outl ines the shift, under Frank's infl uence, from
Child Study as a branch of education to a more autonomous position
in the university system. As the LSRM funds were bringing child
study and research centers to universities across the country,
Frank insisted upon an independent, interdisciplinary approach. The

women professionals, many from the field of education, continued to

be in the majority, but leadership at the top was overwhelmingly
male.

71 In addition to the facts in the Obituary (Appendix F, item 3),

John Cover writes about his father's last illness (see Appendix F,

item 5, p.3, latter half). In this 'Cover Kit ' John also speaks
about some financial reverses the senior Mr. Cover had suffered

because of a flood in his coal mine (p.z , last para. and p.3).
In spite of this, he had put funds aside to care for his
daughter, Louise, who was still suffering from tuberculosis,

according to John's story. For more about Louise's illness, see

letters from Charles Cover (Appendix F, item 69, pp.1-5). This
includes Mr. Cover's last Christmas letter to Mary and her family
and the last letters he wrote them in the Spring prior to his
death.

72 Tolman, E. C. (1959). Principles of purposive behavior. In S.

Koch (Ed.), Psychology: A study of ~ science. y 61.2. General

systematic formulations, learning and special processes. New York:
McGraw Hill. (pp, 92-157).
 570

73 This friend visited the Joneses in their home in Berkeley. Upon

meeting Lesley, who was then probably about eight to ten years old,
he decided she did not favor either Harold or Mary, and so remarked
to her, "You must be a change1 ing!N This spontaneous remark stuck
in the memories of both Mary and Lesley. Sometime later the
Joneses inherited a family portrait of one of Harold Jones'
ancestors. The handsome gentleman, portrayed wearing an 18th
century jabot, was Simpson Jones. Mary, upon seeing the portrait,
was struck at once by Lesley's likeness to it, and she exclaimed,
"There, Lesley, is the relative you favor, this ancestor on your
father" s side. 'I

74 This remark, and those attributed to Nevitt Sanford at the end of

the paragraph as well, were taken from notes in longhand by this
writer at a lecture given by Dr. Sanford at the Wright Institute on
November 4, 1985.
75 Maryls hunch has been confirmed. Refer to an article in the
Review section of the San Francisco Chronicle (April 26, 1987):
The University of California in Berke1ey ... in 1950
delivered to Erikson and all its other faculty members
an ultimatum either to sign a "loyal ty" oath or else.
Erikson, who had joined Cal's faculty in 1939,
resigned. (p.3)
76 In the Editorls Forward to Diagnostic psychological testing.!!.l
David Rapaport, Merton ~ Gill and Roy Schafer, Robert R. Holt (Ed.
Revised Edition)(1968), has this to say about the study and Marjorie
Lozoff's part in it:
An important research value of the group [was
that] ... good clinical data were available from an
houris psychiatric interview with each man by Dr. Gill
 571

79 This anecdotal item is recalled in connection with a session of the

hi story of psychology. semi nar that covered John Wat son' sand
Wol fgang Kohl er's contri butions (March 2, 1981).
80 This communication came from the late Mary Cover Jones and is used
with her permission.
81 The first follow-up on the OGS was called Adult 1, and was completed
in 1958, when study members were in their 30s. The second, Adult
2, was in 1964, when members were in their early 40s.
82 This quotation, and the one immediately above are taken from the
Narrative Report in the Grant Proposal written by the late Dr. Mary
Cover Jones, copy furnished by her.
83 This letter, with some of the interview material, was shown to
the present writer by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones. The full
history itself could not be retrieved by this writer at this time,
however. It is, according to information received orally from a
staff member at the IHO, to be stored ultimately in the archives at
the IHO.
 572

84 This charter member no longer attends meetings (except on occasion,

when held in her living room). She has celebrated her 101st

birthday, and published a new collection of her poems.

85 According to medical records, the diagnosis of macular retinal

degeneration was made by Mary·s ophthalmologist in May 1982. This

eye disorder did not interfere seriously with Mary·s day-to-day

routine until 1985, however. [Verification by telephone call

to phys tc ian's office with Mary's permission]

86 Mary said that she recalled taking the cane, in case she might

need it, but she kept it out of sight.

87 At Mary's Memorial Service, Dorothy Eichorn recalled one of her

fondest memories of Mary. On the day the Eichorn's son was born Ike
and Dorothy were mounting the stairs from the apartment in Mary's

and Harold's home on Shasta Road. It was well before dawn when
they were summoned to the ho sp t ta 1. Dorothy gl anced up, and

there was Mary, at the top of the stairs, waiting to send them on

their way with her loving wishes.

88 Before moving to Samarkand this second time, on one of Mary's prior

trips to Santa Barbara, she attended church with Lesley and joined

the congregation in singing this hymn. Later, back at home in

Berkel ey, she sometimes found the words and the tune on her mind.

The music to this hymn was written in 1838 by a German composer,

Conrad Kocher (1786-1872). It is, according to information in Hymns

_of _th_e Spirit: _Fo_r _us_e _in _th_e _Fr_e_e Churches _of .;..;A~m.;;;;.er;,...;i;....;;c=a (1937; 1957.
Boston: The Beacon Press), taken from a tune described as Dix

7.7.7.7.7.7. The words quoted below that accompany the music in the
 573

- hymnal were written by Foll iott S. Pierpont in 1864:

For the Beauty of the Earth

For the beauty of the earth, for the splendor
of the skies, for the love which from our birth
over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to thee we raise,
This, our hymn of grateful praise
For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and minds delight,
For the mystic harmony
Linking sense to sound and sight.
[Repeat two lines of chorus above]
For the wonder of each hour
of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
sun and moon and stars of light,
[Repeat two lines of chorus above] (p.26)
89 This quotation is taken from an advertisement that appears in The
Nation (May 30, 1987, p.743). It is attributed to a statement about

the book that was made on a popular television program, "60

Minutes. II
90 The details about Mary's last public appearance were told to the
writer by Lesley Alexander. For this and other information,
especially about the last months of Mary's life, the writer is
grateful to both Barbara Coates and Lesley Alexander. Their
careful reading of the Narrative, their corrections,
clarifications and additions have all been invaluable.
91 For public statements about Maris 1ife and her contributions to
the field of psychology, see copies of Obituaries (Appendix F,
items 155 through 161).
 574

92 According to information elicited through two telephone inquiries,

one to the Faculty Club, the second to the Women's Faculty Club,
the so-called Men's Faculty Club is known officially as liThe
Faculty Club. 1I It is in this club that the Great Hall is
situated. The Faculty Club was founded, according to the
information received, in 1902. The Women's Faculty Club, of which
Mary was a member, was opened in 1923.
93 See IIFood for Though~"and other metaphors that shape our lives: A
conversation with Cal Linguist George Lakoff'," In Express: The East
Bay's Free Weekly. January 27, 1989, Volume 11, Number 16. An
Interview by Timothy Beneke.
94 Briefly, in W. B. Gallie's Peirce and pragmatism (1952), a sign
stands for an object (p. 115); a symbol "t s any artificial or
conventional sign which has something like the effect of indicating
or "i con tz tnq' an object... 11 (p, 117), while IIAn icon is a sign
whose peculiar mode of signifying depends on some likeness,
qual itative or structural, holding between it and its object... a
picture may be said to be an Icon of any object which it
resemb1es II so long as the 1i kenessis not intended or imposed by
some process, t.e., photography (p, 116).
95 Quoted from Lowell C. Bennion, "Flight from the Reich: A geographic
exposition of southwest German emigration, 1683-1815. (Ph.D. dtss.,
Syracuse University, 1971). Chapters 1-3.
96 Refer to H. Trevor-Roper's chapter in the work cited in the text;
chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8 for documentation of the talents and skills
of thi s popul ation.
 575

97 Quoted in A. L. Rouse, "Tudor expansion: The transition from

medieval to modern history". William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd

ser., 14(1957), p. 312, in Bailyn (1986, p.5).

98 Quotation from "Serene now, Antietam" by Richard Halloran, the

journalist who covers military affairs for The New York Times from

Washington. Sunday, April 10, 1988, p.8.

99 Parenthetically, W. I. Thomas, senior author of this text, is the

man of whom John Watson states, in his autobiographical statement

(published posthumously in 1961), "I lived the Summer and Fallout
with William I. Thomas, what I would have done without his

understanding counsel and his helpfulness on the economic side, I do

not know...through him I got my first business tryout with the J.

Walter Thomp.s~mCompany...." (Refer to Narrative above, p, %36).

For a sketch of W. I. Thomas that sheds some light, perhaps, on

the underlying reasons for Thomas' understanding and helpfulness,

refer to Zaretsky (1984), "Notes on authors and the editor", at the

end of this new edition, the first paragraph. It might not be an

exaggeration to say that Dr. Thomas felt for Dr. Watson a deeply

empathic response. Both of them were fired from their university

positions, Watson from Johns Hopkins University and Thomas from the

University of Chicago, for violating strong social taboos, Thomas in

1918, Watson in 1920. Neither ever again held a regular university

appointment. Both lectured at the New School for Social Research at

around this period.

 576

100 This famous line appears on p. 181 in the 1958 edition of Max

Weber's classic (refer to References for full citation): The

quotation, note 114, is from Richard Baxter's Saint's Everlasting
Rest, chap. xi t,

101 The epigraph is quoted from the Mayer edition (l988) of

Tocqueville's Democracy in America (p.70). See References for full
citation.

102 This epigraph is quoted from Bellah et ale (1986), p.153. For full
citation, see References. The note 16 cites Alasdair MacIntyre's
After Virtue, chapter 15.

103 The phrase "Habits of the Hear-t" was originally used by Tocqueville.
See the Mayer edition (l988, p.287). The following is taken
directly from that text:

... I cons i dered mores to be one of the grea t genera 1

causes responsible for the maintenance of a democratic
republic in the United States
I here mean the term IImoresll (moeurs) to have its
original Latin meaning; I mean it to apply not only to
IImoeursll in the strict sense, which might be called the
habits of the heart, but also to the different notions
possessed by men, the various opinions current among
them, and the sum of ideas that shape mental habits.
So I use the word to cover the whole moral and
intellectual state of a people. It is not my aim to
describe American mores; just now I am only looking for
the elements in them which help to support pol itical
institutions.
Bellah et al., took Tocqueville's phrase in para.2, 1.4 above for
the title of their book.
104 Refer to MacIntyre (1984), chapters 14 and 15 especially.
 577

105 For a shorter, less scholarly, but nonetheless substantial treatment

of this question, refer to an interview of Martha Nussbaum by
Charlotte Bruce Harvey (1989). For fuller citation, see References.
106 This writer is grateful to a member of GEL (Group for Enriched
living) for his kind gift of a complete copy of the commemorative
edition of The Tribune-Democrat of Wednesday, May 31, 1989. This GEL
member knew Mary when she was an active member of the group.
Although he and Mary were both Johnstowners, they did not know each
other prior to meeting as members of GEL.
107 Appendix F, item 8 shows photographs and a drawing of the flood.
Item 9 has the full text of another excellent article.
Jackson's article makes it clear that the rich and powerful men
who were members of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club were
responsible, through their negligence, for the enormity of the
tragedy, and he also points out that they escaped all liability.
108 This brief reference to Everything in Its Path is so unfair to that
moving document that this noters appended to say that Kai Erikson's
book is a compelling testimonial to the impact of catastrophe upon
the human spirit. Its moving witness to the destruction of the
community, with the resulting impact on the nurturance, growth and
strength of the individual personal ity provides the "other side of
the coin" to that presented in Bellah et al, (1986) and MacIntyre
(1984). These three works should be read as three companion pieces,
in this writer's opinion.
 578

109 The epigraph is from a book entitled The envelope (pp.2-3). The
reference came from Nevitt Sanford in a class at the Wright
Institute in the early 1980s.
Dr. Plant, in the opening paragraph of his Acknowledgements,
has this to say in part:
Like its predecessor, Personality and the Cultural
Pattern, this is an outgrowth and expansion of an
outline prepared as my part of a seminar in Personality
Development assembled by the General Education Board at
Hanover, New Hampshire, during the summer of 1935. It
would therefore be incomplete without an expression of
my debt to the organizer of the enterprise, Lawrence K.
Frank, and the other members of that group. I am but
one of a large number who owe a great deal to Mr.
Frank's keen insights into the importance of a growing
understanding of the no man's land between the
biological and social sciences.
Dr. Plant was a psychiatrist, who had been "director of the Essex
County Juvenile Clinic in Newark, New Jersey, for his last twenty-
four years, and what he wrote came straight from that broad and rich
experience. II
(From Publisher's Forward, December, 1949)
He died September 7, 1947, pre-deceasing Lawrence K. Frank by over
20 years. Years later upon the occasion of Mr. Frank's 75th
birthday, Mary Cover Jones would acknowledge her debt to Frank as
well. (See Appendix F, item 54).
110 The footnote 1 refers to A. H. Maslow, "The Dynamics of
Psychological Security-Insecurity," Character and Personality,
vol.xt, no.4, pp.331-344, June 1942. Dr. Plant, the psychiatrist,
defers here to the psychologist for corroboration.
 579

111 The footnote 40 refers to The Adolescent Personality (1941), pp.296-

298.
112 This epigraph is taken from an article cited under Lozoff, M. M.
(1974) in References. It is about research based on intensive
interviews of 49 able college women at Stanford University, Palo
Alto, California from 1961-1965. The research was conducted through
the Institute for the Study of Human Problems. At the time of the
pub1 ication cited herein Marjorie Lozoff was affi 1i ated with the
Wright Institute in Berkeley, California.
113 For corroboration of this passage, in more impassioned terms, refer
to Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique (l963), especially Chapter
4, The Passionate Journey (pp.80-102).
Other corroborative testimony appears in Kell er (l983, pp.28-
30) and in Kendall (l976). Relevant passages in Kendall are cited
in Part II, pp.195-196.
It may be of passing interest to some readers of this paper to
note that Betty Friedan mentions some familiar names in her Preface
and Acknowledgements:
In a larger sense, this book might never have been
written if I had not had a most unusual education in
psychology, ... from LC. To1 man, Jean Macfar1 ane,
Nevi tt Sanford and Eri k Eri kson at Berkel ey -- a
1ibera1 education, in the best sense, which was meant
to be used, though I have not used it as I originally
planned. (p~12)
114 Taken from a transcription of the second taped interview of the late
Mary Cover Jones with this interviewer on March 20th, 1985 (p.6).
 580

115 This almost ubiquitous quotation has not been easy to document as to
its origin. George James Fimage's ~ Checklist of Published Writings
of Gertrude Stei n states that ; t ; s from "A reci pe for Pate
Beignets," in Del Monte Recipes, Hotel Del Monte, Del Monte,
Cal ifornia (1936, pp. 29-36).
In What h Remembered by Alice B. Toklas (1963), Ms. Toklas,
speaking about a tour of the United States that Gertrude Stein and
she took in 1934, states that they stopped at the Del Monte Hotel
enroute from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, and adds, liThe food at
the Del Monte was as marvelous as I remembered it from my youth..."
(p.153). There was no mention of the well-known quotation, however.
In Gertrude Stein's The Autobiography of Alice .!h. Toklas
(1933), in a chapter heading °1907-1914," Stein states that Carl Van
Vechten was the one:
who in one of his early books printed as a motto the
device on Gertrude Stein's note-paper, "a rose is a
rose is a rose is a rose." Just recently she has had
made for him by our local potter at the foot of the
hill at Belley some plates in the yellow clay of the
country and around the border is a rose is a rose is a
rose is a rose and in the centre is to Carl. (p.169)
so much for sources.
116 According to Mary's Curriculum Vitae, the 1958 citation is for
Adolescence, H. L Jones and M. C. Jones.
117 These pas saqe s from Bl ock ' s essay deta i 1 i ng hi s theoreti ca 1
reformulation of Piaget's concepts of assimilation and accommodation
in terms more app 1i cab1e to the doma i n of persona 1ity development
are found on p.284 and p.285 respectively. For referral to this
enlightening explication, the writer is indebted to Andrea Morrison,
 581

Ph.D. of the Wright Institute, Berkeley, CA.

118 Both epi graphs of Carl son are quoted from the same arti cl e (see

References for full citation). They appear on pp.125-126. In the

second quotation, Carlson cites her source as Silvan S. Tomkins

(1965). The Psychology of Commitment, in S. Tomkins & C. E. Izard

(Eds.), Affect, Cognition and Personal ity (pp.148-171). New York:

Springer. Again, this writer expresses gratitude for this referral

to A. Morri son.

119 Italics for "unconsciously" and "automatically" were added to this

quotation, which appears in the book from which it is taken on the

first page of the Preface, o.xt,

120 Victor G. Cicirelli states: "On the basis of an adult model of

sibling attachment, I hypothesized that the well-being of older

persons depends on their perception of the closeness of the sibling

bond.... Closeness of the bond to a si ster (by both men and women)
was related to less depression... Findings are interpreted in terms
of attachment theory and sex role expectations" (p.211). See

References for full citation.

121 The ep i graph is quoted from pp.352-353 of the j ourna 1 artie 1e

entitled Conceptualizing Adult Development. See References for full

citation.

122 The work that Neugarten refers to is: E. W. Busse (1959).

Psychopathology. In J. E. Birren (Ed.), Handbook of aging and the

individual (pp.389-391). Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.

 582

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 597

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APPENDICES
 APPENDIX A
INFORMED CONSENT FORM
 601

Consent Form

To partially fulfill the requirements for a doctoral degree in

psychology from the Graduate School of the Wright Institute at Berkeley,
California, the student whose signature appears below left is undertaking
to write a psychobiography as her research dissertation.
The subject whose life history is being compiled and written has
read this statement of intent and consented to the procedures as outlined
by signing below.

Requirements of the Study

The subject of this study is being asked to tell her life history to
the research student. The student, hereinafter sometimes referred to as
the interviewer, will conduct at least six and not more than eight
interviews of the subject, using interview schedules in the form of
questionnaires to amass factual data covering the entire life of the
subject. Each interview will last approximately one hour, with a ten to
twenty minute intermission between the first and last half hours. The
interview will be recorded and transcribed verbatim. They will be held
about a week apart and at a time and place chosen by the subject.
In addition to the questions on the interview schedules, two other
instruments will be executed. The first, a biographical fact sheet, will
be completed by the interviewer in consultation with the subject,
hereinafter sometimes referred to as the narrator, at a preliminary
meeting. At the same time this consent form will also be executed.
 602

Early in the interviewing process a questionnaire consisting of two

scales called "Hasseles" and "Uplifts" will be given to the narrator to
be completed by her between interview sessions.

Confidentiality
The interviewer will provide the narrator with the tapes of the
interviews and/or transcriptions so that the narrator can review them and
have any confidential material or privileged information deleted from
either tapes or transcriptions.
The psychobiography will be presented to the subject-narrator for
her approval before it is submitted to the Wright Institute. Only after
the subject gives her written consent will the document be submitted to
the dean.

Risks
The Wright Institute will not provide compensation or medical care
for physical injuries directly or indirectly incurred through
participation in this research. The researcher will do everything in her
power to minimize stress that might attend the research process. The
subject should be aware, however, that the in-depth review of her life
that is involved in such research could be stressful and anxiety-
producing. There is also a stress hazard in the intimate interview
process itsel f.
 603

Benefits
On the other hand, the nature of this research, involving searching
introspection and self-assessment, offers the subject a 1ife-enriching
experience. The benefits cannot be anticipated fully beforehand, but
certainly should include a fuller understanding and appreciation of the
past events of the subject's 1ife course as a whole. This experience
should lead to an enhancement of life in the present and future.

Voluntary Consent and Withdrawal of Consent

The subject participating in this research is free to withdraw her
voluntary consent at any time in the research process and to discontinue
participation for any cause whatsoever or for none whatsoever.

Student Researcher Date

Witness Date
The statements above have been read and understood by me and I give
my willing consent to participate in the research as stipulated.

Witness Signature

Date
 APPENDIX B
BIOGRAPHICAL FACT SHEET
 604

(l)
BIOGRAPHICAL FACT SHEET
Subject/Narrator
- - - - - - - - - - -Date- of- Birth
-----
Place of Birth: _
I. GENEALOGICAL DATA
Grandparents:
Maternal
Grandmother: Birthplace:
Grandfather: Birthplace:
Paternal
Grandmother: Birthplace:
Grandfather: Birthplace:
Other pertinent information, if known (approximate lifespans;
occupations; avocations; interests; hobbies; any family myths
about grandparents)

Children of Grandparents (list in order of birth):

Maternal Paternal

(use reverse side if necessary)

 605

Biographical Fact Sheet (2)

II. FAMILY OF ORIGIN
Parents:
Mother's name
'----------------------
Birthdate._' ___ Date of Death, _
Place of Birth
--------------~--------

Father's name, _
Birthdate Date of Death
~---------
Place of Birth:-- _
Date of Parents' Marriage, _
Place of Marriage, _
Siblings (Place subject in proper birth order):
Birthdates:
Brother: _
Subject: _
Sf ster ; _
Were any siblings stillborn or did any die in infancy?

Father's Occupation: ___

Interests:
Hobb ies:
---------------------
_

Mother's Occupation: ___

Interests : _
Hobbies : _

(use reverse side if necessary)

 606

Biographical Fact Sheet (3)

III. EXTENDED FAMILY
Other Significant Members of the Family (cousins; intimate
family friends; servants or domestic help; close neighbors)

If any of the above, or others (t.e., aunts or uncles, adopted

children), were living with you and your immediate family, list
those who were and give approximate dates of when and duration:

Living geographically close (explain interactions):

(use reverse side if necessary)

 607

Biographical Fact Sheet (4)

III. EXTENDED FAMILY, continued

Living at a distance (how often were there visit s to and fro?)

IV. ENVIRONMENTAL SURROUNDINGS

Type of Home lived in during early years of life (arch itectu r-
ally, inclu de size, number of bedro oms/ baths ; kind of
neighborhood--surburban; urban; rural )

Geographical Setti ng (vall ey; seash ore; plain s; moun

Anything speci al about it (i.e., a summ er/wi nter resortains)
t; an
.
indus trial town; other )?

(use reverse side if necessary)

 608

Biographical Fact Sheet (5)

IV. ENVIRONMENTAL SURROUNDINGS, continued

Any Family Moves between birth of subject and graduation from

high school (list in chronological order, if so):

V. EDUCATION, ADVANCED
College/University Degree Date Field

VI. MARRIAGE--FAMILY
Spouse:
-----------------------
Date of Marriage: _ Place: - - - - - - - -
Children (list in order of birth): Date of Birth:

Any stillborn or early infancy deaths?

(use reverse side if necessary)

 609

Biographical Fact Sheet (6)

VI. MARRIAGE--FAMILY. continued

Education and Occupation of Adult Children and Their Spouses:

Education and Occupation of Adult Grandchildren and Their

Spouses (approximater ages)

Great-Grandchildren Birthdates

(use reverse side if necessary)

 610

Biographical Fact Sheet (7)

VI. MARRIAGE--FAMILY, continued

Homes/Places Lived After Marriage (approximate number of years

lived in each):

VII. CAREER/PROFESSIONAL HISTORY (list significant positions; major

publications; awards):

(use reverse side if necessary)

 611

Biographical Fact Sheet (8)

VII. CAREER/PROFESSIONAL HISTORY, continued

Employment After Retirement (volunteer/professional, etc.)

(use reverse side if necessary)

 612

Biographical Fact Sheet (9)

VIII. OTHER INTERESTS (Travel; Community Interests; Avocations;

Hobbies):

IX. WIDOWHOOD
Date of Death of Spouse:
-----------------
Living Situations Since Widowhood (moves, etc.)

Present Home (when moved there) _

(use reverse side if necessary)

 APPENDIX C [46]
HISTORICAL TIME LINE
 ;W:,!T.......!L!~~!J:,:-.:J;;,- I_';,J'~.t '1" "
.:.,...

-..:.-' 1.'" c" 'W 'H' 1 ','" '4""'0 W""M o"Pd"'?,; n ! t( .1 II "t'
h! "W"""" " '".. ",,"" )",·[·,,,.·,·,1
i
;'

.. . lm-l9lO. 1910-1920
,]gJ). American census counts population of 76,304,799.
Boxer Rebellion against Europeans in China.
19ID Halley's comet observed.
Supreme Court orders Standard Oil Company to
, dissolve within six months.
" lOOl President William McKinley.assassinated by an
'anarchist; succeeded by Theodore Roosevelt. 1911 Sun Vat-Sen named President of Chinese Republic.
J9l2'. ·Averale AIIerican'. hourly wale is 22t an hour. 1912 The TITANIC sinks off Newfoundland.
lOO3 Witbur and Orville Wr11ht make the first success- 1913 Personal Income Tax adopted by Congress.
ful airPlane fliaht in U.S.
1914 Panama Canal opens.
.19)1 St~ Lotiis World's Fair attracts 20 million Austria declares war on Serbia to start World
visitors. ''Meet Me In ·St •. Louis." War I.
,m; Albert Einstein formulates the Theory of 1915 German U-Boat sinks the LUSITANIA.
Relativity. D. W. Griffith's "Birth of a Nation."
,l9J) San Francisco Earthquake. 1916 "Pancho" Villa leads his cavalry across U.S. '
borders into New Mexico.
Bl7 U.S. begins to restrict i ..llration. Nineteen
.11lion iBallrants bad arrived frca (in order of United States enter World War I.
greatest number): Austria-Hungary, Italy,
1917 Revolution in Russia•
. Russia-Baltic States, Japan and Ireland.
1918 Germany surrenders ending World War I.
BS. Henry Ford begins mass production of Model-T World Flu epidemic.
auta.obiles.
1919 "Black Sox Scandal" - Chicago baseball team
mJ Richard Peary is the first man to reach the throws the World Series.
National Prohibition Act passed.
North Pole.

1910 Los' Angeles Times building is dynamited by labor 1920 Federal agents round up 2,000 "Reds" in 33 0\
I-'
radicals. cities. 249 deported to Russia. W

10-hour working days, 6-day weeks. Doughboys, Mata Hari, Eddie Rickenbacker.
Top U.S. companies are U.S. Steel, Standard Oil of Mary Pickford, ''The Girl with the Golden Curls."
New Jersey, American Tobacco Company. Jack London, the era's highest paid writer.
• ... ~ ..... ,.,.,." ... fTIt.._._....... v,." .......... l"'\ .... ,.. Pun 'T'nn('T1'::1V~
 1920-1930
1930-l9LKl.
1920 19th Amendment gives American women the vote.
19?£l lSO millio n movie-goe!s in U.S. per. week.
1921 Warren Harding electe d Presi dent.
Teapot Dome Scand al. U.S. Secre tary of State 1931 Thomas Alva Edison dies at 84.
charged with bribe ry for oil lease s. Japanese invade Manchuria.

1922 ,Tomb of Tutankhamen disco vered in Egypt. 1932 Charl es Lindb ergh's baby son is kidnapped and
killed by Bruno Hauptman.
B23 Marti al law estab lished in Oklahoma to prote ct
Adolf Hitle r pronounced German Chan cellor .
people from attac ks by the Ku Klux Klan. 1933 Prohi bition repea led in U.S.
1924 Model-T Ford costs $290.00 F.O.B. Detro it.
Dust bowls add to'th e misery of farme rs.
1934
1925 Scopes evolu tion trial in Dayton, Tennessee;
Dionne quint uplet s born.
Prose cutor - William Jenni ngs Bryan, Defense 1935 ,
Socia l Secu rity Bill signe d by Presi dent Roose-
Attor ney - Clarence Darrow.
velt.
1926 50th Anniversary of the first words spoken over
1936 King Edward VIII abdic ates the Engli sh thron e
the teleph one.
Gertrude Ederl e swims the Engli sh Channel. to marry American divor cee, Wallace Simpson.

1937 Amelia Ear~art dis~ppears in Pacif ic on'rou nd-

1927 Charl es Lindbergh makes first solo trans atlan tic
the-w orld fligh t.
fligh t.
],g28 New York Yankees win baseb all's World Serie s. 1938 Orson Welles causes panic with radio broad cast
of "Attack from Mars ,."
Babe Ruth hits'6 0 home runs. ,

1929 Stock Market Crash. 1939 General Franco becomes dicta tor of Spain 'after
three years of civil war.
St. Valen tine's Day Massacre in Chicago - gang .
warfa re. J9qQ Germans invade Belgium, Nethe rland s, Lu~emb~urgi ~
,ente r Paris and bomb England.
1930 Depression - 20,000 busin ess failu res. '

1st era of mass produ ction . Apple vendors, Bank Night s. , '0'\
to-'

Jazz Age, Jelly Roll Morton, Bessie Smith, Rudy John Dillin ger, Al Capone, Machine-Gun Kelly . ~

Valle e. The Swing and Jitter bug, The Big Bands.

Charl eston , Dance Marathons, flagp ole sittin g. Pablo Picas so, Thomas Hart Benton.
F. Scott Fitzg erald , Sincl air Lewis.
 ~BJJ
J.9l() German Army ent ers Pa ris .
Al iie d sol die rs evacuated from Du
nkirk, Fra nce .
19!i)-19OO
1941 Jap an-bombs Pearl Harbor and 1950 Truman ord ers development of the
hydrogen bomb.
in the Pa cif ic and Europe. U.S. ent ers the war
~

Hi tle r att ack s Russia. 1951 Ele ctr ic power produced from ato
mic energy in
Idaho.
General MacArthur rel iev ed of .com .
J.9LI2 U.S. Forces sur ren der the Ph mand in Korea.
Japanese. MacArthur vows to ilip pin es to the
ret urn . 1952 King George of England die s and
is succeeded by
Pre sid ent Roosevelt fre eze s wages his daughter Eli zab eth I l . ·
1943 pri ces to combat war-time inf lat , sal ari es and
.
ion . 1953 Dwight D. Eisenhower becomes
Al lie s launch Normandy invasion Sir Edmund Hi lla ry becomes thePre sid ent of U.S.
1944 on D-Day. Mount Ev ere st.· fir st to cli ab

19L6 Fra nkl in Roosevelt die s, and is

Harry S Truman. succeeded by 1954 McCarthyism.
20 mi llio n American homes hav.e tel
V-E Day. Germany sig ns unc ond itio ev isi on set s.
A-bombs dropped on Hiroshima and nal sur ren der .
Nagasaki. V-J Day. 1955 "Sugar" Ray Robinson wins World Boxing Crown.
~
Martin Luther King lea ds boy cot t
U.S. pop ula tio n 140 mi llio n. of Montgomery,
Fir st meeting of United Nations Alabama bus system.
General Assembly.
1947 Jac kie Robinson is ba seb all 's Ro 1956 Albert Sabin'de~elops ora l po lio vaceine.
Marshall Plan proposed. okie of the Year.
J!JiI . "Beat" and "Beatniks" des cri be a new
genera.tion.
1948 USSR sto ps road and rai l tra c
and the West~ Be rlin Ai rli ftffibegbetween Be rlin 1958 Alaska becomes 49th sta te.
ins . Ni kit a Khrushchev becomes Premie . •.
r of Ru ssi a.'
}9q9 Isr ae l, in exi ste nce for
I yea
member of the United Nations. r, becomes a 1959 Pre sid ent Ba tis ta fle es Cuba; Pid
el Castro
tak es con tro l.
1950 Communist North Korea att ack s South
U.S. Forces ent er the ba ttl e zon Korea and 1900 Francis Gary Powers sho t down ove
r Russia in '.
e. American U-2 spy pla ne.
Nixon-Kennedy debates on tel ev isi .
on .
usa clu bs, war bonds, bla ck- ou ts,
P~n ici lli n, str ept om
meat rat ion ing . 0"-
ycin. New drugs combat dis eas e. NASA sat ell ite s, stereophonic rec ,~
Lil lia n Hellman, Dylan Thoma Leonard Be rns tei n, Van Cli bur n, ord s.
Broadway' 5 "Ok Iahoma" and "Ans,nieSa rtr e, Arthur Mi lle r.
VI

Danny Kaye, Walt Disney, Grace Ke Elv is Pre sle y.

Get Your Gun." lly, Humphrey
Bogart.
Ian Fleming, Agatha Ch ris tie , Joh '
n Steinbeck.
. "

1900-1970
1960 Fir st las er lig ht produced at Los
Angeles, Ca lif . 1970-1979
1961 1970 Pa les tin ian gu err illa s hij ack 3
John F. Kennedy inaugurated Presid blow them up in Jor dan ian de ser jet planes and
Bay of Pigs inv asi on off Cuban coaent~ t.
John Birch So cie ty. st.
1971 26th Amendment giv es IS- yea r-o lds
the
1962 ·John H. Glenn Jr. becomes the fir
Cig are tt~ ads banned on. American tel evvo isi
te.
on .
st American to Supreme Court rul es unanimously
orb it the ear th. stu den ts may be ordered to achiev tha t bus ing of
e int egr ati on ,.
1963 John F. Kennedy ass ass ina ted 1971 Pre sid ent Nixon vis its China
Civ il rig hts ral ly hel d by 200in,00Da lla s, Texas. Arab ter ror ist s att ack Isr ae liand Russia.
whites in Washington, D.C. 0 blacks and Olympic ath~etes.
1964 Alaska earthquake, the big ges t in
1973 Vietnam cea se- fir e signed in Jan
uar y.
U.S. histo~y. Watergate bre ak- in in Washingt on,
Arab oil embargo. D.C.
1965 U.S. pil ots begin combat missions
over South
Vietnaa. 1974 Richard Nixon res ign s the pre
Ford becomes 39th Pre sid ent . sid enc y and Gerald
1966 Michael DeBakey suc ces sfu lly im
plants an Limited amnesty gra nte d to dra ft
art ifi cia l hea rt in a human. eva der s.
1967 1975 Apollo and Soyuz spa cec raf t lin k
for th~ fir st
Six-Day War between Isr ael and Ara U.S .-S ovi et meeting in spa ce.
U.S. bombs Hanoi. b nat ion s.

1968 1976 U.S. cel ebr ate s its Bic ent enn ial
Robert F. Kennedy ass ass ina ted in
Los Angeles, "L egi onn air es' Disease" kil ls 29 Year.
Ca lifo rni a. inPhiladelph~a.
Martin Luther King ass ass ina ted
in Memphis. 1977 The fir st oil flows through the
Alaska pip eli ne.
Tennessee.
1969 1978 Middle East peace tal ks at
Armstrong, Aldrin and Co llin s mak
e fir st manned Pro pos itio n 13 pas ses in CaCam
lif
p DaVid, Maryland.
orn ias igh all ing
landing on the moon. tax rev olt .
I

1970 Student pro tes ts aga ins t American

invasion of
Cambodia res ult in death at Ken
t Sta te Un ive rsi ty.
Vietnam War, campus un res t,
Mini sk irt s, maxi sk irt s. Twciv
igg
il rig hts marches.
y,
Ralph Nader, Norman Mailer, Arthu hula hoops.
Bob Dylan, Be ati es. Joan Baez, Bar Sch les ing er.
rbara Str eis and .
1979 U.S. and China est ab lis h dip lom
ati c rel ati on s.
• 0"
t-'
.0"
Inf lat ion , energy cri sis , school
Health foods. jogging, environm busing con tro ver sy.
Punk Rock, str eak ing . entalism.
Di sas ter movies: "The Bx orc f st .
," "Barthquake,"
"Jaws," "The Towering Inf ern o."
 APPENDIX D
INTERVIEW SCHEDULES
 617

INTERVIEW SCHEDULES
The questions that are numbered are the mandatory ones. The ones
that follow, in parentheses, are to be asked as necessary and/or
appropriate, to faciliate flow of information related to the themes to be
covered in the psychobiography. They are probes and sUb-questions.
Before asking numbered questions, a prel iminary question wi 11 be
asked at each interview:
Is there anything that has occurred to you since our last
interview (or the preliminary interview) that you would like
to add before we begin today?
Also, if the interviewer needs to, she may say:
lid 1ike to go back, for a moment, to a question (comment,
idea) from our last interview (or prior interviews) for some
clarification.
The historical frame given before each questionnaire is to help the
narrator recall the social climate of the period in her life under
discussion, to stimulate memories, and to help narrator recall attitudes
and feelings, as well as facts.
Some of the interview schedules will be more time-consuming than
others. Therefore, some may be continued beyond one sittin~ In the
aggregate, every effort will be made to cover the history in the span of
time as contracted. The schedules can be adapted accordingly, as the
history progresses.
 618

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
I

(Comments to be recorded in the sequence made.)

Preliminary question(s)

Historical Frame: 1896 through 1914--Theodore Roosevelt became president

in 1901; in 1903 the Wright Brothers made the first airplane flight;
Einstein developed his theory of relativity in 1905; 1906 was the year of
the San Francisco earthquake and fire. In 1908 Henry Ford's assembly
1ine for automobiles began production; by 1910 the Labor Movement was
underway; Halley's Comet appeared in 1910; 1912, the Titanic sank; Panama
Canal opened in 1914; WWI began in Europe. (Do you have any personal
responses or reactions to these, or other, current events?)
1. Please tell me about your "beginnings": What are some of your
earliest memories?--Can be fragments or stories told you by others
about yourself and/or your family.
(What kind of baby--toddl er--were you? How did you rel ate to
family, extended family, or others (i.e., maids; sitters) in
household? How about your relationship with your brother?)

(continue on reverse side)

 620

3. What do you recall about elementary school? (Favorite teachers?

Favorite subjects? School friends; activities? Were there some you
did not like? What about activities not directly related to
school--Brownies; 4-H Clubs; campouts; games/sports? Music lesons;
dancing school; swimming lessons, etc.?)
 619

2. Beyond home environment, who and what was important? (Did you go to
nursery school; Sunday school? Did you attend kindergarten? How
old were you, if (when) you did? Any significant persons and/or
experiences?)
 621

4. What so you recall about the birth of your sister? (Was your mother
absent at this time? Who explained this event to you and how well
did you understand? Were there other events related to family
health/illnesses? family crises? Deaths in extended family? How
old were you when you started menstruating? How did you feel about
this?)
 622

5. As a child, what did you do, just for fun? When you were alone--
family fun? (Did anything especially exciting or pleasurable happen
in these early years--trips; excursions; out-of-town visitors? How
did your family celebrate seasonal holidays--Christmas;
Thanksgiving; Easter; New Year's? How about family finances and
styl e of 1iVing in these early years--were you rich or poor or "just
right"?)
 623

6. How were your early interpersonal relationships unfolding within the

family network? (What do you recall about your parents' attitudes
toward you during the grammar school years--c. 6yrs. to 12yrs.?
Towards your brother? Younger sister? How about your relationship to
these fami 1y members? Was there anyth i ng speci a 1 about the
development of your brother or sister? or yourself. Explain. Other
than school chums and siblings, were there children who were
important in your life--neighbors; family friends; cousins?
Describe a friend of this period--what did you like/not like about
her/him (One of the opposite sex, also?)
 624

61 (Optional) Were there any other members of household (maids,

sitters, handypersons) or extended fami ly members (grandparents;
aunts; uncles) with whom you had important relationships at this
ti me? Expl a in.
 625

7. Turning now to your high school years. when you were c. 13yrs. to
18yrs. old, how was your 1 ife at home. (What were your parents'
attitudes? Was there confl ict between you and them during these
years? What about, if so? Did they motivate/stimulate you at this
time towards future goals? Explain. If you rebelled, how did you
show it? What were the issues? How did your brother treat you
during your adolescent years? Your sister? How did you feel about
them? Did your behavior towards them reflect these attitudes?
Explain.
 626

8. How would you characterize your family·s style of living and values
during these teenage years? Describe their "pl ace" in the
community. (What kinds of cultural/intellectual stimulation did you
enjoy at this period (i.e., Chautaqua)? How about moral values
and/or political attitudes? Did yours coincide with other family
members, or differ? Expl ain.)
 627

9. What kinds of academic studies did you enjoy? Were there subjects
you avoided or disliked? (Teachers--good/bad. Friendships; group
activities; school-related clubs, special interests, hobbies,
sports?)
 628

10. What about your social life, independent of family, school, extra-
curricular activities? {Dating--group; double; couples? Best
friends? Describe one of this adolescent period--what did you like
best about her/him? (opposite sex, also).)
 629

11. In looking back on these periods (pre-school through grammar school;

high school) in your life, what were the most and least satisfying
aspects of your life? What did you like best/least about yourself?
 630

12. Is there anything else you1d like to add?

 631

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
II

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary question(s)

Historical Frame: ~ 1915 thorugh 1920--U.S.A. entered WWI in 1917,

President Wilson was president. 1918, nationwide flu epidemic. 1920, FBI
round-up of 2,000 "Reds," over 200 deported. Women in U.S. got the vote.
(Do you have any personal responses or reactions to these, or other,
current events?)
1. Tell me about Vassar. (Why did you choose it? How did your
parents, brother, sister, friends, react to your choice? What
appealed to you about Vassar? Was this the first time you left
home? {Summer camp, or other trips away previously?} How did you
feel about leaving your parents, sister, friends, home town? What
about your living situation at college--dorms; curfews; roommates;
sororities?}
 632

2. What about the academic program?

(What was good/bad about it? What did Vassar lack? What courses do
you remember? Why? What teachers? Why? Do you recall students who
influenced you? How? Explain choices of major and minor fields. Did
you know at this period that you were going to be a psychologist?
If so, explain what led to that decision.)
 633

3. What activities did you participate in?

(School-connected or not? Did you attend church? What did you do
for fun? When you were alone (beyond studying)? How did you relate
to group life at college?}
 634

4. Tell me about your close friends. Describe one; what did you
like/dislike about her/him? (Opposite sex, also)
 635

5. How were your parents managing at this time in their lives?

(Health; illness) How about their finances? Did your family pay
your tuition (or how did you handle your college expenses)? Did you
work during summer vacation? Did you have student loans; scholar-
ships; assistantships? Did your perceptions (and/or feelings) about
your parents change during college years? How did they treat you at
this time? Any crises? When you went home on holidays/vacations,
what was life like there? Did you work or just have fun? or both?
How about your relationship with your brother/sister at this time?
Grandparents (others)? What did you do when alone (at home)?
 636

6. Some people change drastically during their college years. Did you?
If so, in what ways? What were your most important values then?
(Pacificism? Religious concepts/feelings? The War? The Vote?)
 637

7. What did you like best/least about your life at this time? About
yourself?
 638

8. Overall, what were your experiences at Columbia like? {How did you
happen to choose Columbia? How was living in New York City
different from Poughkeepsie? What new interests did you develop in
this more urban setting? Where you engaged in community activities
beyond graduate school? When alone what did you do for fun? Did
you participate in the cultural life of the city (i.e., concerts·
museums; lectures; church~-alone, with a friend, small groups?~
What were your living circumstances? Financial resources and
obligations?
 639

9. What was academic life like at Columbia? (Research interests?

Courses you recall and why? Teachers you recall and why? Influence
of fellow-students--how? Intellectually/emotionally? School-
connected activities of professional nature? Did anyone adopt you
as a protege, or did you choose a mentor?) Describe.
 640

10. Describe a close friend of this period: what did you like best/least
about this person? (Choose another to describe, of opposite sex.)
 641

11. Assuming that you met your future husband at this time, describe the
meeting and courtship. (What like/dislike about each other? What
did you do together? What common values did you share? About what
did you disagree (i.e., career; professionally; other). What did
you fight about? What was your courtship like, re sex, etc.)
 642

12. What about the folks back home? (Health; finances? Deaths in
immediate or extended family? Old friends? How about brother?
Sister? Grandparents?)
 643

13. What did you like best/least about your life at this time? About
yourself?
 644

14. Anything you'd like to add?

 645

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
III

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary question(s)

Historical Frame: The era from c. 1920 to 1937. In 1920 American women
got the vote. You were 23 years old. In 1923 the KKK went on the
rampage. 1924-25 was the time of the UBoom"; the stock market crashed in
1929. The depression followed. You were c. 32 years old about that
time. Hitler became the German chancellor in 1933, when you were 36
years old. In 1934, Prohibition was repealed; the Dust Bowl happened.
You were about 37 years old, then. The Dionne quintuplets were born in
1935; King Edward gave up the throne for the woman he loved in 1936;
Amelia Earhart vanished over the Pacific in 1937. You were 40 years old
then. Think about your 1ife during this era--~ household chores--how
were you managing (diapers and dishes)? Also, recall the earliest years
of your marriage (the joys; frustrations; compromises; priorities).
Beyond your personal situation, did you have reactions to broader issues
in the world at this time?
 646

1. What was marriage like for you and HEJ in the early years?
(Assuming you were both starting your careers, how did having
infants/toddlers affect both of you? What did you enjoy doing
together? Separately? What kind of friends were you making as a
couple--separately? Friendship groups? Through professional
connections? Describe a friend of yours at this time. What did you
like best/least about her/him? (Opposite sex example too)? How did
you and your in-laws relate to one another? Your parents with your
husband? As you look back, what do you wish you could have shared
more together with your husband?)
 647

2. What issues concerned you about being parents, when your children
were very young--pre-school, early school years? (Did you and HEJ
agree or not about childrearing practices--i.e., discipline;
educating children; allowances; chores? When you disagreed, how did
you resolve the differences? What did you do educationally for
youngsters at these ages--Sunday School; nursery school;
kindergarten? As a family, what did you do for fun--music; zoo;
picnics? Did your way of bringing up your children differ from the
way your parents brought you up? Explain. Similarities/
differences. Why? Did you follow the same or different theories/
methods of childrearing for both children? Explain. How did each
of your daughters relate to you and to her father? Explain
similarities/differences in relating of each child to each parent,
and of each parent to each child. Were there grandparents/aunts/
uncles/in-laws/cousins/sitters/maids around to relate to the
children? Explain, if so, how they related, and the children to
them.)
 648

3. What was happening in your career? (Pause)

(What kinds of compromises, if any, did you make among your roles
as wife, mother, and professional? If HEJ had to make compromises,
what were those? When did you become a developmental psychologist
and why? Who were your mentors? Did you have any mentees at this
time? How did you choose them? (male/female) Did being a woman
affect your career goals? How? What were your thoughts/feelings
about this? Were you living in New York at this time? When did you
move to Berkeley? Why?)
 649

4. How were your parents and in-laws faring at this time? (health;
finances; retirement) Your brother and sister?
 650

5. During these active, middle years, did you have any health concerns?
(Husband? children? close friends/associates?)
 651

6. (Ootional) In 1929, the Wall Street crash occurred, followed by the

Depression. You were 32 years old. Did this affect your lives
significantly? (Parents? In-laws? Brother? Sister? Did you have to
help anyone financially, or they you?)
 652

7. (Optinal) Were there any important shifts in interests/avocations

between the ages of 23 and 40 years? For anyone else in the
family? (Husband; children?)
 653

8. What was most/least significant about your life at this time? How
did you feel about yourself? Same or different terms from
college/graduate school era?
 654

9. Is there anything you1d like to add?

 655

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
IV

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary Question(s}.

Historical Frame: From 1937 to 1952 prox. you were 40 to 55 years old.
The children ranged in age from 13 to 27 years old. The following events
were taking place: WWII was on the horizen in 1937; Pearl Harbor Day was
December 7, 1941. Rosie the Riveter was at work. The mental health
field was blooming--psychology was being revolutionized. What was
happening to you, personally, and professionally? How did you feel about
the world around you?

1. As the children grew into late adolescence and went off to college,
how did your marriage change? (Did you take stock of your life and
your marital relationship in ways you hadn1t done before? Your
parents and in-laws were growing olde~ What responsibilities did
this place on you--re, illnesses, aging, deaths; any other losses in
these years?) -
 656

2. Were there other health concerns in your family in this era? (Meno-
pause; hysterectomy? Husband's health? Children's--menarch/puberty?
Other? More broadly speaking, any developmental changes--physical/
psychological? "Stresses of mid-life?)
 657

3. (Optional) Did your relationships with friends change during these

years, as your children grew up? (Did you make new friends--
different from old--did the war disrupt your friendship patterns
through geographical shifts or losses through death?)
 658

4. Describe a friend from this per;od--what did you like most/least

about her/him? (Opposite sex, also)
 659

5. What did you and spouse do for pleasure as children grew up and
demanded less of your time and attention? (More time for fun? or,
for work? travel? hobbies? community services/interests?)
 660

6. What was life like as parents of adolescents and young adults?

(Think about their junior and senior high school years--dating,
curfews; cigarettes; alcohol; sex. Money issues--allowances;
college educations--how financed (Christmas Tree Farm?) Summer
camps? Music, art, dance lessons? What other activities/groups
were they active 1n--church? sports? hobbies? clothes? clubs?
sororities? weddings? In separating from you, were there rebellions
on their part? If so, what forms did this take? How did ~
separate from them? Did each rel ate differently to you and ttiel r
father?) Expla~
 661

7. Where did your daughters attend college?

(Were there financial problems that affected your relationship
with them? Did they work part-time? How did your relationship, and
father's, evolve during the college years?)
 662

71 (Optional) In the mid-40s. how did the academic climate, WWII era,
affect their life goals and life plans?
 663

8. As young adults, did yours and father1s relationship with each

daughter change? If so, how? (How did their values differ from
yours? Did either one become engaged at this time? When were they
married and to whom? Did you become grandparents during this era?
If so, how did this affect your daughters· relationships to both of
you? Did children settle close or distant from you? Any serious
health problems with grown children? Their spouses? Grandchildren?)
 664

9. What was happening to yours and HEJ's careers, between the ages of
40 to 55 years?
(Were either/both of you mentors during these years? Either as
teachers or directors of research or administrators? Explain what
these rel ationships meant to each of you, if such existed. Were
there professional associates important in your 1ives during this
era--explain. Did you and HEJ relate differently to your work
associates. Explain. What organizations/professional groups were
im~ortant to you and HEJ during this period? Any significant career
achievements? Recognitions? Honors? Awards? WWII affect careers
appreciably? Any disappointments? Changes in status or position?)
 665

10. How did your financial status change during this period of your
life? If so, how did this change affect your life style and values?
 666

lL (Optinal) Was this a time for "stock-taking" in your lives?

Explain, if so/if not.
 667

12. What did you like best/least about your life at this period? About
yourself.
 668

13. Do you want to add anything?

 669

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
V

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary question{s).

Historical Frame: Looking at the period from 1952 to 1962, in that

decade the following events took place: Queen Elizabeth took the throne
in', England in 1952; in 1953 Eisenhower was elected president; 1956,
Sabin's oral polio vaccine was developed. By 1955 McCarthyism was in
full swing; Martin Luther King, Jr. was leading the bus boycott in
Montgomery, Alabama. In 1958, Alaska became the 49th state; 1961, John
F. Kennedy became president; in 1962 John H. Glenn, Jr., orbited the
earth. You are between the ages of 55 and 65. Your younger daughter is
27 years old in 1952. Do any of these events listed appear particularly
salient to you? Are there other historical events in this decade that
have more personal meaning to you?
1. In your marriage, what was "center stage?" (Any retirement plans on
the horizon? Were you losing old friends (moves, illnesses,
deaths)? Making new ones? Were there problems with health or self
or spouse?)
 670

2. What close friendships did you/or HEJ have at this time? Describe
one from this decade. What did you like most/least about her/him?
Is this an old friend? If so, has s/he changed over the years?
How, if so?--r5 this a relatively new friend, does s/he differ from
most of your old friends? If so, say how. (Now choose one of the
oppos i te sex.)
 671

3. How were you and HEJ active as parents of adult children? (How
about relationships with extended family--siblings; cousins; other
intergenerational relationships--your parents; in-laws? Were there
problems in terms of finances: care of aging family member? grand-
children, re education? Were you vacationing with grandchildren?
Were they going to summer camps--did you help sponsor any of these
activities financially? Were there any health problems with
children, grandchildren, or other extended family?)
 672

4. How were you and HEJ progressing in your careers? (How did you
relate in your work settings? Similarly? Differently? Explain.
How did you both relate to your respective associates? How was the
organization in which you were working changing over the years? How
did changes in it affect each of you? This is the time that many
careers "peak" and then descend towa rds ret; rement: was thi s
happening to either (or both) of you? Expl ain. If the two of you
viewed your organization differently, how did you reconcile these
differing views?)
 673

5. (Optional) What, if any, impact did the loyalty oath have on your
life?
 674

6. This is the era when you became widowed. Tell me about this event
in your life. (Did you both retire early, at the same time? Why?
How did you happen to be in Paris when HEJ had his fatal heart
attack? (June 7, 1960) Who helped you at this time? Immediately
and later, in the early stages of widowhood? Do you recall if you
found family members, friends, associates more (or less) helpful?
In what ways were their helpfulness manifest?)
 675

7. The next year and a half reflected your early adjustments to widow-
hood. Think about how that period was for you--from 1960 to the end
of 1962--how did your life change over that year and a half? (Home
life; residence? new friends? relationship patterns with old
friends? career/professional interests? financial situation? your
own health? Were there any "sf lver liningsll?--new responsibilities
or lessened responsibilities? more autonomy? improved relationship
with children--more closeness? more appreciation of friends;
children; extended family; grandchildren; professional associates
and/or connections?)
 676

8. What was best/worst about your life at this time? What did you
like best/least about yourself? Marriage/career/life course?
As you look back on those eight years prior to HEJ' s death, and the
year and a half immediately following it, what would you like to
have changed?
 677

9. Is there anything you1d like to add?

 678

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
VI

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary question(s)

Historical Frame: From 1962 to 1972: In 1963 John ~ Kennedy was

assassinated in Dallas. Vietnam was IIheating up." Martin Luther King,
Jr. was assassinated in the spring of 1968 in Memphis; Robert (Bobby)
Kennedy, in the summer of that year, in Los Angeles. 1969 was the year
of the first men on the moon. In 1970 the Kent State student protests
over Cambodia occurred. In 1971, 18-year-olds got the vote. Cigarette
ads were banned on TV. The Supreme Court decided in favor of school
busing for integration. In 1972, Nixon visited China and Russia. Arab
terrorists killed Israeli Olympiic athletes in Germany.

1. This is the era when retirement usually begins; the beginning of

young old age--65 to 75 years of age. Tell me about this period of
your life. (If new roles emerged or became more important at this
time, please describe them. Were you doing more grandrnothering?
When did you become a great-grandmother? How were your professional
roles changing/evolving? Did you experiment with new styles of
1iving--i.e., retirement home(s)? SAGE; Gray Panthers? GEL? What
were the strengths and weaknesses of these endeavors? What did you
do in the mid-sixties to mid-seventies for fun? When you were
alone/with others?
 679

2. (Optional) Did the age of student unrest affect your role as

academician/researcher in any way? (Relationships with peers or
proteges?)
 680

3. Think of a good friend in this ten-year span--between 65 and 75

years--say what you like best/least about her/him. (Choose one from
opposite sex, al so.)
 681

4. What, looking back, was best and worst about your life at this time?
What pleased you most/least about yourself? (Issues here of
accepting ys. giving; autonomy ys. aloneness; need to be with
people; dependence Ys. independence; decision-making issues: life
style; finances; plans for older age~
 682

5. Anything you1d like to add?

 683

INTERVIEW SCHEDULE
VII

(Comments to be recorded in sequence made.)

Preliminary question(s)

Historical Frane: 1973 to 1985; Ceasefire in Vietnam, January 1973. In

1974, there was the Arab oil embarg~ Nixon resigned after Watergate.
1976 was the bicentennial year. In California in 1978, Proposition 13
was passed. Environmentalism became a national concern in the 19705;
lIecology" became a popular concept in the mass culture. Inflation was on
the ri see Automat; on wa 5 getting underway. Students ; n the 1ate 70s,
early 80s, became more li ke they used to be. Nucl ear armaments were
accelerating. In the early 1980s, nuclear freeze became a national
political issue, after the :rhree-Mile Island near-catastrophe in 1980.
You were in your late seventies when this period begins.
1. You have had and are now having a unique experience working with the
Guidance Study. Please tell me about the experience. (How has your
relationship with Guidance Study members changed over the years?
How has your relationship with the Institute changed over these
years? Your interpersonal relationship with directors, peers,
subordinates? What has been and still is most satisfying about your
work on the study? What has been a source of confl ict and
frustration for you? Is your present grant an integral part of this
work, or is it tangential--a newer or different emphasis? How
central or peripheral do you see the Guidance Study to your life
work? From the early years in the 1920's, how have your career
orientation and your professional goals changed and developed? Has
the direction you've taken made "al l the difference" (to borrow from
the poet). What about "roads not taken"?)
 684

2. Looking back over your life, what are the enduring values that
persist? (How have your values changed--developed; evolved; grown
stronger; shifted; been re-directed? (Examples: Issues of ultimate
concern (God, immortality; IImeaning of life"; death); family; loved
ones; is politics, in the broadest sense, one of these values--i.e.,
war and peace; civil liberties; class issues; conflicts about race;
economics; poverty; world hunger; systems of government; the future
of human life on earth; evolution? The role you and your progeny
should play? How you should/should not, can/cannot facilitate such
tasks/issues. Is money an enduring value? Is it there to be spent,
or saved? How has your attitude about material wealth/security
evolved over your lifetime? Are you rich, Door, or Ujust right ll?
Are your children, grandchl1 dren,grea t-grandch ; 1dren, okay
financially? How would you define "success"? Was HEJ "successful"?
Are~? Does this relate in any way to being a woman?)
 685

3. How do you feel about your family, now? (Interpersonal relation-

ships with each member? Down through the generations; cross-
generationally? How do you feel about your forebears? Your IIroots"?
Are there any family "myths" that you see now that prevail through
generations? especially re enduring values: family traits or
patterns? styles of behavior? goals; motivations? rebellions?)
 686

4. Assuming that personality does not change much over time, what about
you has changed (even microscopically!) Is the way you "recreate"
yourself--have fun--different? What has remained essentially the
same? Have you ever had to abandon some cherished goal or
commitment, or make a serious compromise? How much control have you
had over the direction of your life?
 687

5. What about your friends? Have they changed in personality (or

person)? Has your style of relating to friends changed over your
life? If so, in what ways? What remains the same? Have you ended
interpersonal rel ationships, intentionally? Why? What was the
provocation? Explain what happened. Tell me about one of your
present friends: What do you like best/least about her/him?
(Opposite sex, also)
 688

6. Looking back, if you could begin your life again, would you do
anything differently? (What do you like most/least about your life?
Now, and over the whole span? What do you like most/least about
yourself? Each of your children? Grandchildren, great-
grandchildren? Brother? Sister? Parents? Grandparents? Late husband?
 689

7. Is there anything you'd like to add?

 APPENDIX E
HASSLES AND UPLIFT SCALE
 690

The following instrument, comprised of two scales, is taken from the

appendix to the following citation:

Allen D. Kanner, James C. Coyne, Catherine Schaefer, and Richard S.

Lazarus. Comparison of two modes of stress management: Daily
hassles and uplifts versus major life events. Journal of Behavioral
Medicine t Vol. 4t No.1, 1981. 1-39. Appendix, 24-36.--
 691

THE HASSLES SCALE

Directions: Hassles are irritants that can range from minor
annoyances to fairly major pressures, problems, or difficulties. They
can occur few or many times
Listed in the center of the following page are a number of ways in
which a person can feel hassled. First, circle the hassles that have
happened to you in the past month. Then look at the numbers on the
right of the items Clrc~ Indicate by circling a 1, 2, or 3, how
SEVERE each of the circled hassles has been for you in the past month.
If a hassle did not occur in the last month do NOT circle it.

SEVERITY: 1--somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;

3--extremely severe
1. Misplacing or losing things •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
2. Troublesome neighbors •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

3. Social obligations ••••••••••• ; •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

4. Inconsiderate smokers •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

5. Troubling thoughts about your future ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

6. Thoughts about death ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

7. Health of a family member •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

8. Not enough money for clothing •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

9. Not enough money for housing ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

10. Concerns about owing money ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

11. Concerns about getting credit •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

12. Concerns about money for emergencies ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

13. Someone owes you money ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

14. Financial responsibility for someone who
doesn't live with you •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

15. Cutting down on electricity, water, etc •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

16. Smoking too much ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 692

HASSLES SCALE
SEVERITY: 1--somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;
3--extremely severe
17. Use of alcohol ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

18. Personal use of drugs •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

19. Too many responsibilities •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

20. Decisions about having children •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

21. Non-family members living in your house •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

22. Care for pet ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

23. Planning meals ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

24. Concerned about the meaning of life •••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
25. Trouble relaxing ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

26. Trouble making decisions ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

27. Problems getting along with fellow workers ••••••••••• 1 2 3

28. Customers or clients giving you a hard time •••••••••• 1 2 3

29. Home maintenance (inside) •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

30. Concerns about job security •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

31. Concerns about retirement •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

32. Laid-off or out of work •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

33. Don1t like current work duties ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

34. Don1t like fellow workers •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

35. Not enough money for basic necessities ••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

36. Not enough money for food •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
37. Too many interruptions ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

38. Unexpected company ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

39. Too much time on hands ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 693

HASSLES SCALE
SEVERITY: l~-somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;
3--extremelysevere
40. Having to wait •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
41. Concerns about accidents •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
42. Being lonely •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
43. Not enough money for health care •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
44. Fear of confrontation ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
45. Financial security •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
46. Silly practical mistakes •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

47. Inability to express yourself ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

48. Physical illness •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
49. Side effects of medication •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
50. Concerns about medical treatment •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
51. Physical appearance ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

52. Fear of rejection ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

53. Difficulties with getting pregnant •••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

54. Sexual problems that result from physical problems 1 2 3

55. Sexual problems nther than those resulting from
physical problems ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
56. Concerns about health in general •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

57. Not seeing enough people •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

58. Friends or relative too far away •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

59. Preparing meals ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

60. Wasting time •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
61. Auto maintenance •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
 694

HASSLES SCALE
SEVERITY: I--somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;
3--extremely severe
62. Filling out forms ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

63. Neighborhood deterioration •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

64. Financing children 1s

education •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

65. Pr~blems with employees ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

66. Problems on job due to being a woman or man ••••••••• 1 2 3

67. Declining physical abilities •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

68. Being exploited ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

69. Concerns about bodily functions ••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

70. Rising prices of common goods ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

71. Not getting enough rest ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

72. Not getting enough sleep •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

73. Problems with aging parents ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

74. Problems with your children ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

75. Problems with persons younger than yourself ••••••••• 1 2 3

76. Problems with your lover •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

77. Difficulties seeing or hearing •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

78. Overloaded with family responsibilities ••••••••••••• 1 2 3

79. Too many things to do ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

80. Unchallenging work •• ~ ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

81. Concerns about meeting high standards ••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

82. Financial dealings with friends or acquaintances •••• 1 2 3

83. Job dissatisfactions •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

84. Worries about decisions to change jobs •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 695

HASSLES SCALE
SEVERITY; I--somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;
3--extremely severe
85. Trouble with reading, writing, or spelling
abilities ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
86. Too many meetings ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
87. Problems ·with divorce or separation ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
88. Trouble with arithmetic skills •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
89. Gossip •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
90. Legal problems •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
91. Concerns about weight ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
92. Not enough time to do the things you need to do ••••• 1 2 3

93. Television •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

94. Not enough personal energy •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
95. Concerns about inner conflicts •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
96. Feel conflicted over what to do ••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
97. Regrets over past decisions ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
98. Menstrual (period) problems ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
99. The weather ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
100. Nightmares •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
101. Concerns about getting ahead •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
102. Hassles from boss or supervisor ••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
103. Difficulties with friends ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
104. Not enough time for family •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
105. Transportation problems ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
106. Not enough money for transporation •••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
 696

HASSLES SCALE
SEVERITY: 1--somewhat severe; 2--moderately severe;
3--extremely severe
107. Not enough money for entertainment and
recreation •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

108. Shopping •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

109. Prejudice and discrimination from others •••••••••••• 1 2 3

110. Property, investment or taxes ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

Ill. Not enough time for entertainment and recreation •••• 1 2 3

112. Yardwork or outside home maintenance •••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

113. Concerns about news events •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

114. Noise ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

115. Crime ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

116. Traffic ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

117. Pollution ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

HAVE WE MISSED ANY OF YOUR HASSLES? IF SO, WRITE

THEM BELOW:
118.
-------------------
ONE MORE THING: HAS THERE BEEN A CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE
THAT AFFECTED HOW YOU ANSWERED THIS SCALE?
IF SO, TELL US WHAT IT WAS:
 697

THE UPLIFTS SCALE

Directions: Uplifts are events that make you feel good. They can be
sources of peace, satisfaction, or joy. Some occur often, others are
relatively rare.
On the following pages, circle the events that have made you feel good
in the past month. Then look at the numbers on the right of the item
you~ted. Indicate by circling a 1, 2, or 3 how OFTEN each of the
cited uplifts has occurred in the last month. If an uplift did not
occur in the last month, Do NOT circle it.
1. Getting enough sleep •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

2. Practicing your hobby ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

3. Being lucky ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
4. Saving money •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

5. Nature •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

6. Liking fellow workers ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

7. Not working (on vacation, laid-off, etc.) ••••••••••• 1 2 3

8. Gossiping; "shooting the bull" •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

9. Successful financial de~llngs ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

10. Being rested •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

11. Feeling healthy ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

12. Finding something presumed lost ••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

13. Recovering from an illness •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

14. Staying or getting in good physical shape ••••••••••• 1 2 3

15. Being with children ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

16. "Pulling something off"; getting away with

something ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

17. Visiting, phoning, or writing someone ••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 698

UPLIFTS SCALE
HOW OFTEN: 1--somewhat often; 2-- moderately often;
3--extremely often
18. Relating well with your spouse or lover •••••••••••• 1 2 3
19. Completing a task •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

20. Giving a compliment •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

21. Meeting family responsibilities •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

22. Relating well with friends ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

23. Being efficient •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

24. Meeting your responsibilities •••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

25. Quitting or cutting down on smoking •••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

26. QUitting or cutting down on smoking •••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

27. Solving an ongoing practical problem ••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

28. Daydreaming •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

29. Weight ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

30. Financially supporting someone who doesn't
live with you •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

31. Sex •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

32. Friendly neighbors ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

33. Having enough time to do what you want ••••••••••••• 1 2 3

34. Divorce or separation •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

35. Eating out ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

36. Having enough (personal) energy •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

37. Resolving inner conflicts •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

38. Being with older people •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
39. Finding no prejudice or discrimination
when you expect it ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
 699

UPLIFT SCALE
HOW OFTEN: 1--somewhat often; 2--moderately often;
3--extremely often
40. Cooking ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
41. Capitalizing on an unexpected opportunity ••••••••••• 1 2 3

42. Using drugs or alcohol •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

43. Life being meaningful ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

44. Being well-prepared ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
45. Eating •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
46. Relaxing •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
47. Having the "right" amount of things to do ••••••••••• 1 2 3

48. Being visited, phoned, or sent a letter ••••••••••••• 1 2 3

49. The weather ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

50. Thinking about the future ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

51. Spending time with family ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

52. Home (inside) pleasing you •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

53. Being with younger people ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

54. Buying things for the house ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

55. Reading ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
56. Shopping •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
57. Smoking ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

58. Buying clothes •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

59. Giving a present •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
60. Getting a present ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
61. Becoming pregnant or contributing thereto ••••••••••• 1 2 3

62. Having enough money for health care ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 700

UPLIFTS SCALE
HOW OFTEN: 1--somewhat often; 2--moderately often;
3--extremelY often
63. Traveling or commuting •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

64. Doing yardwork or outside housework ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

65. Having enough money for transporation ••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

66. Health of a family member improving ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

67. Resolving conflicts over what to do ••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

68. Thinking about health ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

69. Being a "good" listner •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

70. Socializing (parties, being with friends, etc.) ••••• 1 2 3

71. Making a friend ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

72. Sharing something ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

73. Having someone listen to you •••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

74. Your yard or outside of house pleasing •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

75. Looking forward to retirement ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

76. Having enough money for entertainment and

recreation •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
77. Entertainment (movies, concerts, TV, etc.) •••••••••• 1 2 3

78. Good news on local or world level ••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

79. Getting good advice ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

80. Recreation (sports, games, hiking, etc,) •••••••••••• 1 2 3

81. Paying off debts •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

82. Using skills well at work ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
83. Past decisions "planning out" ••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
84. Growing as a person ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
 701

UPLIFTS SCALE
HOW OFTEN: I--somewhat often; 2--moderately often;
3--extremely often
85. Being complimented •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

86. Having good ideas at work ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

87. Improving or gaining new skills ••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

88. Job satisfying despite discrimination

due to your sex ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

89. Free time ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

90. Expressing yourself well •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
91. Laughing •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
92. Vacationing without spouse or children •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

93. Liking work duties •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

94. Having good credit •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
95. Music ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

96. Getting unexpected money •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

97. Changing jobs ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

98. Dreaming •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

99. Having fun •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

100. Going someplace that1s different •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

101. Deciding to have children ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

102. Enjoying non-family members living

in your house ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

103. Pets •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

104. Car working/running well •••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

105. Neighborhood improving •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

106. Children1s accomplishments •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

 702

UPLIFTS SCALE
HOW OFTEN: 1--somewhat often; 2--moderatrely often
3--extremely often
107. Things going well with employee(s) •••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
108. Pleasant smells ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

109. Getting love ••••••••••••••••••••••••• ~ •••••••••••••• 1 2 3

110. Successfully avoiding or dealing with

bureaucracy or institutions ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

111. Making decisions •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

112. Thinking about the past ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

113. Giving good advice •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

114. Prayi ng ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

115. Meditating •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
116. Fresh air ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
117. Confronting someone or something •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

118. Being accepted •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

119. Giving love ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

120. Boss pleased with your work ••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

121. Being alone ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

122. Feeling safe •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

123. Working well with fellow workers •••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

124. Knowing your job is secure •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3

125. Feeling safe in your neighborhood ••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
126. Doing volunteer work •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
127. Contributing to a charity ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
128. Learning something •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 2 3
 703

UPLIFTS SCALE
HOW OFTEN: 1--somewhat often; 2--moderately often;
3--extremely often
129. Being "one" with the world ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• • 1 2 3
130. Fixing/repairing something (besides at your
job) ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••• 1 2 3
131. Making something (besides at your job) ••••• ••••• •••• 1 2 3
132. Exercising ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• •• 1 2 3
133. Meeting a challenge ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••• 1 2 3
134. Hugging and/or kissing ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• 1 2 3
135. Flirti ng ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• •••• 1 2 3
HAVE WE MISSED ANY OF YOUR UPLIFTS? IF SO,
WRITE THEM IN BELOW:
136.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
ONE MORE THING: HAS THERE BEEN A CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE
THAT AFFECTED HOW YOU ANSWERED THIS SCALE?
IF SO, TELL US WHAT IT WAS:
 APPENDIX F
PART II ADDENDA
 704

Foreword

Copy for the items following came from Mary Cover Jones, in the
majority of cases. It was in consultation with Dr. Jones that most were
selected for inclusion.
Permi ss ion to repri nt has been sought from the or; gi na1 sources,
with credit acknowledged, whenever granted.
In no instance has any item been included for which permission has
been denied. PERMISSION TO REPRINT DOES NOT EXTEND BEYOND THIS APPENDIX,
HOWEVER, IN ANYCASE.
In some instances, Dr.. Jones herself asked the sources for
permission to include. Such requests have not always been followed up
with written requests from the write~

Many items were given to Mary Jones by family members, friends, and,
in some cases, associates with the understanding that the items would be
incl uded herein.
The writer is deeply appreciative of these gifts which have enriched
the text of the Narrative.
 705

Permission to reprint the following items have been given as cited

below:

Item 2: Article from the Tribune, October 30, 1894. Permission

granted by the Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15907,
4/20/87.
Item 3: "Charles B. Cover, Septuagenarian, Dies at Hosut ta l ",
Article attributed to "Tribune, May 3/30," handwritten.
Permission granted by Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA
15907, 4/20/87.
Item 4: uOld Timers; page twO.11 Permission granted by the
Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15907, 4/20/87.
Item 6: IIMrs. Mary Coverls 87th Anniversary" and IIMrs.Mary Cover
is a Nonagenarian. 11 Permission granted by the Tribune-
Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15902, 4/20/87.
Item 9: "The Dream of Security: Johnstown and Flood Control II by
Alan Clive. Pennsylvania Heritage, Spring, 1982, pp.18-
23. Permission granted by Pennysylvania Heritage, 9/9/86.
Item 11: "Kate H1~son, 78, Veteran Teacher Here, Summoned,1I the
Tribune, Johnstown, PA. Permission granted by the
Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15902, 4/20/87.
Item 12: "For-ty Yea rs Ago: November 18, 1890. 11 The Tri bune,
Johnstown, PA. Permission granted by the Tribune-
Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15902, 4/20/87.
Item 14: "looking Backward: Through the Tribune Files, Thursday
Evening, November 13, 1930. 11 Permission granted by the
Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15902, 4/20/87.
Item 29: Fragments of articles, the Tribune, Johnstown, PA.
Permission granted by the Tribune-Democrat, PA 15902,
4/20/97.
Item 34: "A Pixie's Love," the Tribune, Johnstown, PA. Date
111915 11 and IIMary ll handwritten.
N.B.: Mary Cover Jones scratched out the word IIletter ll
printed as part of the title in error.
Permission granted by the Tribune-Democrate, 4/20/87.

Item 37: letter from the late Ruth lamb Atkinson, postmarked 1972.
Permission granted by Ellen Singer, niece of the late Mrs.
Atkinson, 15/2/87.
 706

Item 43: "Engagement Announced." Handwritten date, "Friday, August

13, 120." The Tribune, Johnstown, PA. Permission granted
by the Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15907, 4/20/87.
Item 56: "Son and daughter of Johnstown Couple In Educational
Projects," the Tribune, Page Two. Handwritten date,
"Thursday, March 3, 1927." Permission granted by the
Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15907, 4/20/87.
Item 61: "Dr. Ma ry C. Jones In Research Work," handwri t ten
attribution to "Johnstown Trtbune," Permission granted by
the Tribune-Democrat, Johnstown, PA 15907, 4/20/87.
Item 62: "Developer hopes to build Oakland community center" by
Larry Dougherty. The Daily California, Wednesday, October
23, 1985, Front page only. Permission granted by The
Daily California, 2/27/87. N>B>: Smaller photograph, top
right, of belltower view of University High School with
students, late 1930s, by Barbara Jones Coates, March 1990.
Item 63: IIS ubjects of landmark study compare no te s ," by Lonnice
Brittenum. The Tribune, Oakland, California. Monday,
November 4, -,g85, A-9-A-10. Permission granted by
Tribune, Oakland, 2/24/87.
Item 66: Group photograph of some IHD staff. Photograph originally
appeared in an article in Contemporary Psychology, 1982,
vo1.27, No.12, p.925. Permission granted by Dorothy
Eichorn (9/5/89), Marjorie Honzi k (8/24/89), John C1 ausen
(postmarked 8/30/89), and Paul Mussen (postmarked 8/6/89).
Item 68: I'Mary (Cover) Jones Expected to Arrive Here on Short
Stay'" handwritten attribution to the Tribune, March 6,
1930. Permission granted by the Tribune-Democrat,
Johnstown, PA 15907, 4/20/87.
Item 70: p.2: UMary Cover: Art and Serendipity" by Doug Hinkley,
Yellow Springs News, February 10, 1982, p.3. Permission
granted by the Yellow Springs News, Yellow Springs, Ohio
45387, 8/6/86.
Item 74: "Clocking of Bawling Babies in Nursery May Save Lives of
Newly Born Infants" by Martha G. Morrow, Science Service
Syndicate, September 30 - October 6, 1945. Permission
granted by Science Service Syndicate, text of article
only, in dissertation only, March 3, 1988.
Item 84: "Harold Ellis Jones, 1894-1960," In Memoriam article from
U.C. Berkeley, pp.55-57. Undated. Permi ss ion granted by
M. Brewster-Smith, March 16, 188.
Item 86: IIU.C. News: Sociology Professor Wins Award," The Post,
Sunday, October 26, 1986, page 5. Permission grantidiby
the POST Newspaper Group, Oakland, CA. March 24, 1988.
 707

Item 87: p.3. IIDougl as Hi kers to Hi t Towpath for 7th Reunion Trek
on May 6. 11 The Washington Post, Tuesday April 11, 1961,
p.C7. Permission granted by The Washington Post,
Washington. D.C., February 1988.
Item 92: IIZap!" by Fred Ferretti, The New York Times Magazine,
January 4. 1976, pp.13, 14;-TS;-8ndl6:'" Copyright @1916
by the New York Times Company. Reprinted by permission,
July 22, 1987. Permission does not include reproduction
of illustrations. Permission is limited to this
dissertation for a graduate degree in psychology.
Item 93: "The Sting ll (editorial), The Washington Post, January 11,
1976. Permission granted by The Washington Post,
Washington, D>C> 20071, July 31, 1978.
Item 98: liThe G. Stanley Hall Award for Distinguished Contributions
to Develomental Psychology," excerpt from Newsletter,
Division on Developmental Psychology, American
Psychological Association, William W. Hartup, Editor,
Winter 1969, pp.1, 2 and 4. Permission granted by Jay
Belsky, Ph.D., 3/8/88.
Item 103: Letter from Deana Dorman Logan, to Agnes N. O·Connell,
Ph.D., June 8, 1978. Permission granted by Deana Logan,
7/1/87.
Item 104: 1I0ut of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking" by Rodi Shemeta
Ludlum. Cal ifornia Monthly, December 1978. Permission
granted by the Cal ifornia Monthly, 2/18/87.
Item 106: Letter from Milton J. E. Senn, M.D., March 13, 1968, to
Dr. Mary Cover JOnes. Permission granted by Milton J. E.
Senn, February 26, 1987.
Item 107: Copy of Ph.D. dissertation, entitled 1930-1980, Fiftf
years of advice to parents: The impact of sociohistorlca
context of American prescriptive 1iterature, pp.222-223
only. Permission granted by Marian Studenski, Ph.D.,
2/26/87.
Item 111: "A lifels work" by Brenda Payton, The Tribune, Tuesday,
March 8, 1983, p.A-7, with cover note to Professor Jones.
Permission granted by Brenda J. Payton, 2/24/87.
Item 112: IIYouth 'study turns into a story of a lifetime for
researcher, 86" by Harriett Stix, Los Angeles Times,
Monday, June 27, 1983. Permission granted by Harriett
Stix.
Item 117: Flyer and prospectus, IIIntroducing GEL, The Group for
Enriched Living. 11 Permission granted by Marjorie M.
Lozoff, ACSW, 12/1/87.
 708

Item 124: letter from Barbara DeWoolf to IIDr. Mary," 27 February,

1987. Permission granted by Barbara B. DeWoolf, 4 July,
1987.
Item 130: "Seniors working for salves," Opinion column - Ours, Santa
Monica Outlook, 7/2/82, A-6. Permission granted by Delara
Austin, 3710787.
Item 146: Letter from Frances M. Carp, Ph.D. to Mary Cover Jones,
June 30, 1986. Permission granted by Frances M. Carp,
December 15, 1986.
Item 147: Letter from Erik and Joan Erikson, undated to Mary Cover
Jones. Permission granted by Erik H. Erikson and Joan M.
Erikson, 8/22/87.
Item 153: Materials on the annual conference on behavioral
perspectives given by the Devereux Foundation, with cover
letter from T. J. Glahn, Ph.D., March 26, 1987.
Permission granted by T. J. Glahn, 3/2/88.
Item 155: "Mary Jones: Former professor, II Santa. Barbara News-Press,
Friday, July 24, 1987, p.B-4. Reprinted with permission
of the Santa Barbara News-Press, 2/25/88.
Item 156: "Rite of UC Emeritus Professor Mary Cover Jones," The
Tribute, Oakland, California, August 20, 1987, p.C-13.
Permission granted by Belinda Taylor, Metropolitan Editor,
2/23/88.
Item 157: laMary Jones Famed psychologist dies," by Martin Li, The
Ca i 11 Cal i for nian, Fr ; day, Aug us t 21, 1987, p75:
Permlssion granted by The Daily California, postmarked 24
February, 1988.
Item 158: IIMary Cover Jones ," San Francisco Chronicle, Saturday,
September 12, 1987,~16. @SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE,
Reprinted by permission.
Item 159: IIIn Memorium t ll The Psychologue, ve i.i, No.1, p.4.
Permission granted by Carol Carr for The Psychologue,
2/29/88.
Item 160: Article with photograph of Mary Cover Jones, California
Monthly, November 1987, p.33. Permission granted by the
Callfornia Monthly, 2/23/88.
Item 162: Copy from Marjorie M. LOlOff for inclusion herein. Notes
for her delivery at the memoril service of Mary Cover
Jones, Wednesday, September 16, 1987, Facul ty Cl ub, U.C.
Berkeley.
 PENNSYLVANIA SETTLERS FROM GERMANY
COVER-IIIGSON
Mary Cove r Jone s':
Grea t,gre at,gr eat gran dfath er
) John Diet~ich Cove r I m. Anna Cath erina (Hoff man? )
Arriv ed in Colo nies, 1730 · d. 1782
b. 1703 d. 1791

-_. • -'''. J Fran ces Stah le

b.12- 17-1 738, Lanc aster .Cau nty, PA
d. 3-15- 1810 .
Grea t gfan qpar en~s
m. Mary Marg aret Bash oar
b. 5-18- 1781 Cumb erlan dlCou nty, PA b. 3-14- 1789 Leba non aoun ty,PJ
d. 11-17 -1856 Johnstown~ PA d. 12-23 -1868 John stow n, PA
Settl ed Conem augh Town ship c. 1813
I
I. Willi am c. Cove r I I Nary Eliz . Blai r So.Ylo*-, r
b. 2-12- 1816 b. 7-2-1 828 Mart ipsbu r9
d. 11-21 -1899 Blai r Coun .ty,· Pa
d. 3-17- 1920 John stow n, PA

1
I Willi amc. Cove r, Jr. 1m. I I Char les
3

1859 -1909
I .Emma Hamm ! m.
I Moll y
1861 -1917
2
l Charl~s Blai r Cove r: m.
: Eliza beth
,....., ,....., b. 9-23- 1854
~
'd ~
t-' d. 5-3-1 930
'd
(D 'd
I A. Dix Titt le: ffi.
.
ti 'd ~ Al ice Bertr am Cove r J
t-'t-' b. ?
(D I
d. 3-3-1 938 b. ?
t-n~
rt '-"' d/ 11-1- 1944
LHJE OF DI::SCENT NEW YORK SETTLERS FROM ENGLAND AND FRANCE
( a soldier in Lafayette's army came to fight with
the colonists in the Revolutionary War and stayed
in the new nation - a forebear on the Paxson side)

Whitell?
I George Saylor I
,I I ?
I ( Joseph Whitehall Paxson I m, I Ca t he r i ne Jaquetter
Johnstown Postmaster

.
rJohn Higson I
m. I Anna Louise Paxson I
. d .J910
b. England, arr.1ve b. S~21-18~6 Philadelphia
Philadelphia, 1860's ·d. 1932
Settled Johnstown 1866

-. T
3 4 6
1
r Twin Boys 1 m~ .
lMargaret Kath~rin~ (Kat~ j-iiIgson I b. 8-31-1868
Baltimore
Harry Givens, Jr.- -Agnes Beatrice Higson
b. 12-28-1864, Elmira, NY b ~-19-1877,Cumberland,MD

Cover I d. ?-?-1942
d. in infancy
rMary
Elizabeth Higson I
S
I
7
Alexander Hamilton Higson
2 b. 1-lS-1873,St. Louis,MO b. 4-20-1884, Johnstown,
2nd m. 11-18-1890 d. young (Typhoid fever) d. in youth,college year
Gilbert I : Carrie Louise Higson I . appendicitis
- b. 10-16-1866, Ba1timore,MD r
Harry Givens I I John Givens I
,..--.. d. 12-?-1940, Solvang, CA b. 1-ll-19I~. tW.1ns, Jonnstown,PA
~,..--..
'0
'0
C1l
~
t-'
~
?
1 I 1st m. 191 r •
12-16-38 I
~ N I John liigson Cover ~ ~Ebba Wernstedt~ : Mary Leyman (
1-'. .......,
O'Q
b.lO-29-1891
I b. 7-2S-1906
::r'
rt r
.......,
I
 Early New England ancestry
from 1630's

Horatio ~Jones Antoinette Ellis I 1 m.

Perez Rio Brown Jane Broad
b. 1823 b. 1833
--------- - -
b. 1-3-1840 b.5-12-1839
d. 1904 d. 8-10-1925 d.8-18-1907
JONES-COVER
3rd of 6
m.
Elisha Adams (Ad) Jones I i ILessie Estelle Brown
b. 10-17-1858 b.1865
do. 1936 1. Ir- - - - - - - - .L.- - - - - r
i d. 12-1929

~s Jones
b. c. 1886 b. 12-3-1894
d. 6-7-1960

1-
Kepnetn Arthur Coates Barbara Cover Jones
---
b. 3-21-21 b. 11-6-22

David Pauli 2_ 3.
m. 8-31-
~-- Lynne Coates -_._-_.
James (Jim) Coa t.e s
Katherine (Katie») . b. 5-21-1950 p.10-8-1951
1 1
b. 12-19-1971 b. 6-21-197~ I B~~ja£?i? Coates J

b. 3-77 b.4-82 b 12-31-87

'-
,....., ,.....,
............
o ~

~
(0'0
H •
w
...... ........,
(0
HJ
l"1"
........,
 IJllV id ~ly lie ~-,...~~m~.~4-19-1~46 l I
b. 6-7-1 919
COve r
.
Cove r, Jr. IBrom ley Hill
(Bob)
I ' .iAnna 3
Loui se Cove r

loaL,
t

b. 1921 b.l0- 3-19 00

b. 6-16- 1905
(seve ral marr iages )

J-.F'P:: OF DESCENT

m. 9-+-+ 9,2q - Ne~ YOfk Ci~¥

2.
I Mary Eliza beth Cove r I
b. 9-1-1 896
- '
d. -7-22 -87
i

2.
e_ --- I m, i-28- l953 /

1.(" 2~ I
I Jane Alex ande r I [p~ter Al~-x-;~deEJ

~
Alle nl b. 11-10 -1956
4· p. 6-25- 1958

Julia n· Alle n]
, DavidC~a-t~-s -I
b. 10-19 -1953
b. 4-29- 19El3

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C er f"rm ."d IlolM3 l-lt .; adj'li"inir il. borh Ul .....!' th~ir mark in lill:ning Ibll do~u. ! i~1 I 1~ i ! ! i ;! . Io'loruncr.
'·(lII.tito1li"l: .hlll i. 1m. ... IS 11Jt! Smger meut •• llIch '~llcknr.wIIl"lI:.r! bttfore Cb".· 'f: : : : : i : ; ; i : Mr. \'iioftlon D.ni"...f the Beccud Wnr'
harP'. l'bn det'd read.... fi.llo•• : linu Dorner,. Jualie,!f.r II!. r..~c,:. and .il· ! to j 1 ! i i iii
1 11 "UAaL IlIlli,_ville 7e,lcHI",. returning bun
UTbi. Inde"Iure. IDlde Ih" Ilill:hlb dll' of "eaaed il, him and lJ"lIIbl \\ ..aln"er, the ; • -'='; : I ! : ! ; ; i : ; I""L lIi/(lIl.
M"I. mlhtt jurof o"r LorJ o"e IhouOl.. III lalle. alao mllki'lll hia m"rk. In fael, Mr. • ••..••••.••.. Ito., !-'.II...r Tty"!,, of Iho Olllljl:~b Call
......0 bund",d a"d ninl!IJ.two, hel_eull Coover lind IhOJ Squire Hew l.:l IJI' lb. onl, olic Church. Wal 1l11l0Dll the vieitor.! it! It
Uel'jam;,. Jtju""ht'uu. EttlUire. of tbll DI:ts cOllee.ne!! io Ib" I:an:lacl,on who could cily yco.tcrhy.
1"o)",,,.hil' of Wortf'.Il~r, in tbe. CDnol, of _ri'.".
:'!""'lIoll1"ry. ami ComlDoo...ald. of I'e-mi' ·fI..: ..,,:cl Illlrch,~~ of InnJ b, Mr. Coo'er Mm. W. U. nil,n •• c.f 1'0. 21!l W.I.,
.,I ..."i... pf Ih.. one rurt., IIod Jilcob Slulz- ""3 ..ill IR:!I. ",b." be bDu"hl for11,01l0 .',,·cL. loll In,~,"y lor AhClOOli 10 'r-end It·;
,.111", lor Il,,<lfurt! C,,"nl,. i'l tin, ....id CUUI' III·r.., Ir"UI Jllnno 'll'I"~r I"'~ wif" l>Inr«Il",...
d"y. willa iriendM,
" .....tI....lIh afOr,.Alli.J. or Iho 011,,,. I'''~. of CU'U'IIl""Kh 'I',,,,,,.hil'. KlllcprAcl C""I1I)'. Mr. John .1. Me Dl1llRull, of I"HtaK~
.. Wfill/e..... in 1..... 11""1... flf t\r" .ar· for '~Ilu. Thi. d.·...j i. lillod oul em a Ii"u: 'l>emL Ihll II"y ill thl! dt!. liu .. ill relull
,'""tA, ,m" IIr1lll,,·d til Itll"nrL 1·o,ltI. I"""ilil: l,rilll"0.1 ..: LI", ",ii,·" (If 11m .:b~n.I"lrlt Skl/. 1'"l11U II.ia r.'clli"l:.
""'0: IL" :!(llit tillY of Junl!, 17i!l, 1.1111 Th.) "rinLinK "'"' d·,:;., on II lIIerlilllU """t" Itlr. 1'. .... Co'nl'l"II. !'ul"·ril.le".lrlll Ill'
'Ioe o!I:"r &0 IJdllj,mi" ltiU."hou,c. I"rl,. of lim'" 1"'1"" 11"1·1 I"~ doculCl'..L ill JI(·W e"Kincer or J. C. lII",li,,·,n.inCCl .. 1 1'';l1l1p.
, ~relo., tlsled Iho ltlt. .1.1' lIf M..rch. I;K,. f"lIinl: 10 I'i•.'c... It lira' ..c.... owl·dK",1 I,e· E! : "''''' ill lIaecitl to·""y. .
ilFICWIA anr.eyed .. cerL,un tract of laud fore S. lJoul:ll<8'. lit thr.t ti'l'e a JUNlil'" or llnited S, ..I:.·Mnrob.11 J W. W"lll!r, ;,
..1I~d [j,~15bDrOul:b, rUlulll~ Oil tbc 'I'ojluf Lhe Peac", in tbe coaul,. an:! there i~ a ~1:.1o,.
PillSbu'lt. -.5 a rll'lOengcr on nar I-;xi'r~!U
IILII.,·. Hill. in un:".r Ibe t·ork ..."f Conn· ment "I tb" "oU.oru Ihlll Ihc surd lbreo WII.
''''';r.h aCid Slr.n, Cre"k. ill tb. 1'ow"81,i" .. inlerlil.ed in Ib~ lili~cnlb lin" from the
.1 c.:u",""I"/lIiIlKill IIUI ...iJ Cu"nl, of Ill"" Io...d ...·f"r" hif,":"lI:." It ia ""••'IlP.,1 ill 00" f'l! en",: ... to, ...-:c:J::t il
-
... ~;;;
10·elA, Oil hid 19111 elloll.
HeY. I•. Corl, r.f W""lotror.!Ilr.,J C( O'n tl
url!~ cu-u1ui.llllJ.: !tar, '" 1aL&IIJruJ .'1.1 tlrftl."- I·'u.wr of ,III" 11II111!r diaL it ... 11 ..rhl,.,.. .. u.1 f-.:iI "'';' ,,1.11 h!lI!I.et"!. ir. II,.. E"-I:. "ni'ed Iltt" (;1
. ~"" ""re.; 1t ...1 wh"nwi. tho "..i,III"I"", dr.li.nr"d in ,I..• l,r.·.N.ce tofIi 11011111,... a".1 .. I' I··aal l.illD wr.ll ....1 "illbl•
·udJ. I., .1.~"II,,,,,,jlllt .Inl,' til" ;t;;IIJ ....y til .. ""II.ur 1t""II"""", wlt,·.~ i,lnlllil, i. III "r.·. ".
. M., Oru,,,. I'. Ho,. IJllft or I ...nclltt.t-,·,
"',"al1. I;~;!, el).",,,,,,,1 biB ril:hl (of LI.~ .."t r",,,'~"!"" loy .... '''''I'Kr''l'h thlll ;1\1111,1.
",J Irad 111,1(. n'.'llj.lIui" lliucnh"u.Q. !,1Ir!, frtlll' nl')',"r"nrr•• h~ 11",l r.f NIIIMII",,,, ur
"relo; and wber,·.e. thu Cummollwe"llh. 1l0rM:o 1"",·1,. bill rr.. I."I.I, dol" .II)l bJ,.
",I, ..' :.' an...
~-,..,

"-~
n,rn·I"lhl ... i. Ih" Il"ll'l or Mr. Cllll10C
W",.dorolh.ol Wilmuro.
Mr. Willi.rn Caml'h"II, r,r Col!iu Il'f"'l,
,,,,,t.II1 h~llring d:o!e tbe 1st d0i7 of Fr.h Innl!: 10 "illa..r. Willi:u" A. Smilla. M lte· '!'-i~ Thirlc~",h W""I. h.... 1_" b01l5.:d CI' f:>l
,1'1 )'. l':J:?, di.1 zmnt a"d
.,~.r u'.I·, Ihc ....i'l lI",j'lllin
(',nfirm Lht" eordel of It.... Ct'lu,tr. 11·P.!ifl~ Ih"L Ih~ cie.:d

"U""'. ":-'luir", 1',' it-, .nd l1y .ht!' Plli,t-

HIIl~"· "-a. recorded on :'i",., r""r' .. lI.,.
llill.
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Ibe pMI few d..,~ Wilh f""cr.
M•• 1:1. M. WilliotQ~. of f.yerr.lL, :3.01):<
.\nnth"r purrh'...e "i l.lIlLI WIWt Rlh')'" II);'
.''''hl lUi U··,:nt.1 inUm 1t·.I!" C'llil"· Mr. f:.,.vlr III IHJ~ • .,1.",. h...... clJr.... frlnn
Cnlln!I, .,\11"
.i,illlr ill lboo ci!1 :1t:,~·.rJ;'l
All tl", 1I.. "ul"'r. of Ih" ,;'ruil, ..... 1Ircr.:;; IJci"tl "l~e.t Ill1'I,e Copilal.
I til... ~l_t.. 1.1" l'l~hh"'~\'IH'IIl. J"••!. I"'"Ji.1 .,'",'wr. •.f i:, 1"'lIio,IIKII Town_l,ill, .nd I.DlIllh,. "nt! r"",",kllt.l, ...·'iv" fi'r 11...ir . Mi•• I.ilill" II. \'''"''i, of 1I1~ F,hh \\' .."I.
,,--.k :-::t. l"l, 1....V,h :1IU. rl rI11t·1 •• ·,~ ,uu' :-illo:.',IUlI&. I.;,. ";jf.., f·r UUlaum uf ~7U, "1\'.' I:"".I,L ll,ft "loI,·.t .~O· - AI··.. ~n"fr-­ d'·l."..ln~ IIoi~ IIIIIn.illK fur h"li'U1a (our.I·,
1.,:"nUIII-,J.".1 Ill, Inrt." Will hl'I,I'J,r, ~1'W n trw'LI,f I";'u'" !iv., RI·'.'·,. ...111! 1111' .un·tlr..,1 111111" 'Ir 11-'... "" "',,~r,.1 "u.11 '11'1 _OUln lill)6) "mrUtK r",lnli"...
II" l:",·J'.!uturl~· ",tUu',..-.·!" '
tha.t all I , .. : •.1 "'.u., dl"'il hJil. i" IiIl,.t1 'jut on A l,rintf'll
·'I·!~u,h, ltiUUllhtlIlRl", 1·:"fJ',ar.·, f~Jr hI~,1 i'l fCtrm" "'Id wl""r" -.11 .,rrvj"'.HI Ill"'" hrl\'o
'11"", 'ruOl Lhl\ rr"nll.1t ur
a:rilll -rll••
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.tronlC f.•mill rr.~lI\h!,,"c"•• ".1
rr.l.h".<1 lu Mr. 11. I). Oii"r. {It Pill.l... '1:. i. Ih,
·i,"'I..,:,tit'li uf It..: IlIUIJ' ...*c:Ii th .. brottunll And .i"t~11I ,,1un.., l,utllhli~·t:'J.IIIt· /,:"-'1 of hi. fri~Il,I-Mr. Th"nl~' lJ. \'1..11-
'. I l"'ell:y·I"O l.ou'Jlb, t"d." .I.illilllld. ill .. I ful Phlll~l of re'1l1~yh.>nia," Ih,. .n tbe cbilllrell and II;r"ndchil.jr~n • rli,k~~ ,\t:~111 Lt Iho I'. It It. Su.,iun.
. ~! ~'''r-'''·''. I,....fol .no:,,,, "f 'he S'"le of
,-ul·aih:uli~ •• 1'1 t'imiti 1.!"llt w~1L :In,1 ~rul1
~lir"lat.· •• ~h~}' ',b.!1 ~:'
of llap. l'rIIl;:~lt H'i.It·....
i.".
"I~wrul 1II0n<.:r
J JUI l.lnNl"f'Il~ 11\
Mr. and b1nL. A"..
:n Coo"'r
m"mbenL or Ihe .:"Kli.h 1..lh,·rllll Chll'rh
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L\Jllt ~r. Jo~o null Il.lo'! fDm:I,. c.:' 1:1 II r.ll
.ill.. "'ill I~,.,·I' to Inorrnw ml filII!!. f~
,:d "ltl,. a..id ,IIIC"I. *·.I,:IIU\II lJ.fur .. Ih" ntkllo,,!.·,I,:,·d h··I.•r" JlIlIli"~ M. Clll'R", ",,:I IIl1th.i:li'e., IIl1d Iheir dnMn':1 r.ro' ...... 111\\ 1'~lr,..iTl. 0 _ lu n.hk'! t11f':r futuro };Ou.:t.
·..lu,~ ""'\ u,·II'·I'fy I,f 11.1'''t' ,.n·!"l'hl!l. 1111- 1.0,,1,,1 \\'. II. JJnmilHfll nrl' wilr&~A"f" (If i~Jl ''';)Ilt ".Jilliou. f..ith, ..a\·.I,1 A 1l1O~. whn h... Mr. Janl., .1. M,lIi;.::"'. (r ~lljl' ;lrr~1
...·.I'l wIH·I','uf'lh...... i.. U,·.j Ullillitilh If· MI'ItI.IIAt utili .!I'li".-ry. \\·llIi~.h1 1i.ltl·lI WJ~
IIIJth 1.. -r.,11)· Il.d"'h •• -!'·l:,,::'), "I~tll
til:"It' ,i,..u·
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i I.tld ili".1 t.i,u."lr willi Ih" (;,·r ....." ""Iltipri., 1.·fL o>.r Ih~ II.•\: () 'l.i1rrll'\ J ... rrd.,
·,.:11 . . ,1. l'ttIKhilu-,I. ",,1.1, rnJr.har.J. Mill) •·.. h~
u... 1. ft-,.,
Mr. Hrt·ui,u;r. to,l..., Im,r 1"nrrlln,1
l~f1II'fl"'tll tl ....." "'6!:illllll 'rlHIt fI ..rri,.lJlJrj(.
l,t-1h..".. I,r""··h~. ".lIla ~r.. l.r-.
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Ihn wnr,oll' .'",... 1111.....' .... 1., 'hll mlljl.rit,.
nIl. 'Huun ror r ... lhl.l·rIRwJ. \0 'r !lid " f.~li
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1.lIwlI,rr. ItFil1'; 1lllthrrnlllt. Ill,•. Ur. (:. HI...,;.!"" r~'grnr.<l yrallt,tl"
I Iil"~ •• "" H. ,..1, uu,l t' ,J.li,. .. IIlIh: til"
flllf" f·"Unrllll,rm 'II"
,,1.1 Ir"'ln.! lu I.:\!l .. illl AIII"n ,,,,10 rI'·lt·'·wl"" .. of" Y""I:I: "II". "r,prll'i m (rum.. it,'r luw .,]:11-' y . . :t a.L ..h,
,-: J,.t"'.. !1 :\'1I1 1I1f111 .. ,,1'1'" t...icli '.fl.1 U..
"'lulU tlll,Lilll( '".l·.,,,:hnlln (.I l'ulOn I,.fltl. " ..d fir th ... Coov .., "'10m". art- 1r".••II,.li,'nll ". I'''!' .,., .. 1 hf Ior r II••,III.r-M,.. J!Ul, !"o\,u-il.
:':fI, "Ii: Lh..." "I"r""hltl lrucl uf Iltofl~ (::,11.·.1 Mr. eOUy.lr di·J 1I·,t FI.faU'·. A" A C·II~I.r.. ilic •• ,mrl ill facl unl,lwo ullhlt 111111-. i·, ll". 1':1, ,;:..I.lIr~ •
'l·~!...... ~;;h ill llou .,,;'! C'IU'lly \·f H,t!· 'III""CII Loth wcrt· ..lllbnr"...e,1 Ii "'tlIci'IIl)'. CO"'Ip.clion who ~.," "ltaiu~J IIaeir D1aj"',ly.
1,'.I.t·;:l1lr~if:J~ U... rIWri~:11l 'ra·,,'. ,lJullr..· 'jl.lHI."~ .. hcut n~'t" '·tnT" "fllf :th. Coover',
Mn,l"r wllin, !liLa, U,.. T,".,·~o:'~ ellr
!,.c.f~~. ""y olber poliliCAI I"ilh. All of a rin iu "!l.td.I~. W•• t r"11ll' T".·n.I,ill, ~
r ~ .w:.l 11,,,1 :\ .•r!h "i~hIJ'Iwo d"l:r.,.." ll~ri.lllltcr.·. • rna... lIk~ablft a,e "'ll m..rried ex!"rl,1 f'.lIr lllr.,f'll y•• lerd .., from bi" .iX.tQlillb,,' .i.::
···.t I.ll IlIIndt.. ! ..,.oj Iw"I'M r' rch.·. III.. Mr. lirroiaer <1i.·<I, M,a Ihe credilor!! ""t. feruale Ilr,"dchildr~" and one lDal .. Itrand. I\t SI"7el1to.. n.
:.i,,, I.I.~. Sou·l. 1"'-·I1)'."ill' drv"·.·. IIr"lIy louk~d In Mr. -ClIfl ...r I••r I.ftymelil. chilrl. .
',aal. r:.lllj fi"',t 1,"rd,4"~ !I~ n I)c.~, :i·,ulh "'Ilil'h h" W"A lIot hr"Jlnr~d to rn~ku nt til" Mr<. F'."ci. J. O·Cvnn('r. of ~ lClu';cned
.... " .. 10 C03vor "1llI OnP. of 'bo Iirolt ...1>-
.I.IJ·IIl<e~ ,h'~,"'~~ \'.'.~'. Llllrly.,.ir:itl Ii",... 1'100 Sh"rilr 01 tlo.. cOUIiLy IIIi II .!·~ccl, .i".1 W... t!. b... La ber l:u';>1 1'0
'hl"," lO I~ 1'0"1, S••ul'ltivu dt·h"!l.·~ \\cst ill'u;-rflu911 kll ..'wcll ~lr. Cun'rr
. : , "'~;'II 1'l'rc:I:". nll.1 It Lilli to n I:U' I~O Hr"Il:~~r l'rDp"rly and IWI!'" "'b"L lou
la.ke '0 Il"ribp.r. kJ tlae Tlll.ula: ,n 1~"3. r ..,i"l1 in
"d.llnce. _bich _M a DIOro u"u,"~1 &:,./".. r. frien"-frIite A
10"", SUIIU:,,'!'t (;OUD!1'
h""
Crll""r-<'~ n.l( ,I eDDe"·
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'l'IIi:' OUl::! hIlJutrl·&1 IUltt "':\"cl&ll::l:" ""rd;.·" h,wJ.... n III,,' I~., waul_t h,ke .. Ut"l!rorll HluU. al:"d ....p.nl,·Ii,,, ,,,",r. Ii ... ,,,oll,b. of ti,.men...' . aT., ~h!ll ~_Ll~I. of :-ir \I,',..,hi"il:·
.1 an- !..,If to 1\ rll(ot'Ua~1 tn.·..... ~-.rtb· mOIt"'1.'" wt:ieh. n~ ihkl til'Df4. WIL" in hlu! and nioeleen d.JA. H.. 1".... .1 .""J iu II Ion o'olitoLr:,I..,'r. rtf :\0. GJ. -c~lfi'lll·j.'1 AVu
..•.~J \'r'.·~f p'''''''IH.I)·.lIi, 1·:"n·1:el'll 1\ c111:MI "'rlll!,~, UI Ir." BallL s W:luld IInL rec~ivf'! it. "OUee ill Ihe [·',lIh WI\N, ..I lit.., li'n_ CI/"~u. nu". 8"·'ru'".... b W"rol.
,. Itl·.·. SlIlt l, l\lt"lIfJ dq;r),'" Ei~ ... OUt! B,llli.. lUI·a.,..l-a, J.~(\U 1 f('II!J(II,~ic'" wn~ uh. I'i~d LJ hia ..o"·i,,·I,,,w ard ci"".ch'.rr- ~Ir • M~ •• ra. S,l,,·~·.r \\'r,dc. 'lr ll.~ (bulrr.
. ~."-ndll,,·rdll"11i Ir"",_l';urlh
·'II·Ulllt,I'{ I"j,·.·.l f.,r ,Itl' 11:1111,.,1)'. IUIiI "Ir. CUIIY"r l• .....1 !lIn. John Shllrl'; it 1'1 .In." Ir~ll 1:,,,.,../.• nrl Archi" ~i~"·,l, ,)1 I, .
..·T .ot.~t t «,.,tIL., two rrh.·,. IlI,d "11!1 h",~I. I,·~!:,·f tl.·.t lhl1 .uh"iI~1 ,,·:.ul.l 'U;!I (,ut ull I" 1hl! Cln.•al ....J lulI' M~ , •...,.. I....... : ..... , ........ ~n ...... " ~l ;:1::"'!1 tJ~ "':'J

(2)
;~;,,:{j':'i~)"';1;::rHE./ijwsPAPER FOR: T~E
: , •• .r '. ~:,::",~>':~,\;~~'~'.~~~,:o" . ._.~:" .;. ::.' ~~.;: .. . ..... ::. ':':;';' !.~ : : ;:,~, ;:' . '., ,:.Y:.,
....., . .' -\1 edlfice.,For",some, time 'he' ~ed as
. '.:.: '. "CHA.RLES. 'B.·C, OVER.~"·;~' ~
Treasurer,of the claSs.' Mr. Cover was
numbered among ,the 50 .incorporators

;.:.( -~'·~~:~~~.~~prU~ GENARI~ . .:' ~~~:~~~~£!n~~;~t:~i

<'I,~<::~,~'~;:':·
~,. : ", 'A
DIES AT· HOSPITMJ ::: ~;~::)~:S~i ~eSC=~·ij~i'
. . -/1- , Bold,-then·rector·of-St.,:Mark's EPisco-
~~<_::,~':~/~~~.··'vr'-6',y, :aIJ~ pai paris!1:.'T,Mrs. Cover:survives him
}--;).":~:well'IGidwIi~fR~~id:D"ti~:SI'S",4~ :::~::'~~d~~~~:~~"~a~~o~,
'-{;~:~::~~.:c:Uuilis:=f~:'ih~:J?or.rGdfte :~~~~~~.~~:~~~/~~~~i:~
~;.::;:V}:i.!+;~~n({Bla·dd~~~,Tr,', ~iilii~
,;".',';"'~;"''''';;'_''_~:'''.'' ,,' ,
';~
_ .~.. ...;.;);
'Berkele~, .~a.L, ,w~o-
,old Jones, :0; was,
- here in. February on a visi(to her par.-
~': '::.r:'~"'·F·::·~:~;:·:"·:,(: 'i:....;., ;." -.: .. ,,' ';~.:.-:., , ents,. and Ml.ss:.Anna. Louise Cover, ~f

~i:~~;,~~.~~I.~·~r,~~{, .~~~:~~;"~~e6:~:~~r~~$
,';:" Charle~ B.., cover-.·aged 'j5'yearS~'-'o~ m~rriag~"J~'~~J'::"';~":::::-;;<;:'~":~l::'~~\;:~:
. : ' ,431 Napoleon street., Fifth Ward. wh~.":~' -, ' G,ran~.!ln, of ~da.m .cover~~'LH;:f
~. 'VmS taken suddenly ill. last. SaturdaJ;,;. ' Charles B; Cover' wasagrandson:.ot
, pased away at 9 o'clock this mo~';'~ Adam Cover'-"'.who 'was born'. in Cum-
,lng at ~he Memorial JIospital. Wh;r~.: berland County~ this state, ,on: 14&1'.2S;
:. he was operated on. yesterday, morning; 17S1, and settled on what is- now known
tor 'kidney and. bla.dder trouble. 'Mr': 'as Cover"Hrnin Conemaugh TOWT'ship
.r.: .Cover suffered from a cold for, a sao in lS13. 'His' death· occurred In...Kem-
- . time before he collapsed one week aga-' '\-ille in November, 1S56. At one time
.' today. ·He talled to . rally following i Ada.m ,Cover";'owned a considerable I
.. 'the operation yesterday. : . ...:' amount ofpropeny in this llla.ce 'and I
" Charles Blair Cover was.a :80n "of vicinity, among It the 'ot at the corner!
.William'and Mary Elizabeth (Saylor) of '.Franklin B.I1d. Locust streets,'. -Third '
oover and was .born at the Cover home- Ward,' secured trom him by meInbers
. stead on- Ma.in street, Fourth .Wa:-d. of the Franklin.-street'M; E. Church In
September 23', lS54. ····His father died lS3S., Adam'Cover was a son of Gideon
here .tn November, lS99,- in his '34th cover, who' was :'bom in Lancaster
year and his mother' expired in March. County in ·D?cember,:. i738;. and-·.:;erved
1920, in -her' 92d yea.r.- Charles B. in,'fioth'-the Colonial ~nd. the,', Revo-
: Cover' was educated"in the common lutionary a.rmles~-· 'Gideon .Cover was
""'schools'in Johnstown, then a borough, a sor; -r,,: . JohIl Dietrick .Cover. -also
going to work as a drug clerk in lS67-' spelled ,Kober 'and Coover. who came
'. tor n, ·'W. Hershberger &.. Co. and to America from Europe·on the sailing
later for Col. Caleb T. Frazer, drug- vessel ''Thistl~'Jn 1730. ' Thirteen chil-
gist.ol; He remained with these -con- dren were born. to Adam' Cover, among
,__ .cems_fQr..tI:),r.e~J~a..Y.arid,tlJe~J'etumed them ·Willla.m' Cover,' ~r.•.· father of
, ,_ ' --'-- -- .;...; .._~ ....... fi'i~ I Charles B.; Cover.' Adam",cover's .wt!e
streets" Kernville, and .remainedthere; was Mary Magdalen (Beesnoa.r) .Cove:-_
'111ltll the organlzatrOli 01 the Johnstov,'l1.\ She was. born in .Lebanon County,. this
',' Grocery Company in 1901, when he i ~tate, in March, 1.789, .and .~ed here
: became its business .manager, ·.'Ayear In September, IS67•. -' : .' ':':!', .-
,-,-or.so' Inter Charles.:B~ Covl!1"..and '.his. .. Funeral on l\oIondar. _,/:,~:,~.-
, ',_ ' brother-In-law, the late Charles. ,E./ Funeral"services will be held aJ the
...:. Hamln, cngnr,ed, In . the coal b.lIsiness C. E. Cover Home at '2 :30 o'clock Monda.y
under tim firm name or the Cover- 'afternoon. with interment in tbe fam-
'. Hamm ConI Comp:my. They operated ',ily plot in Grandview Cemetery• .Thp.
the Fnnnhelrn mlne and also one on body ·was prepared for burial by the
. the Franki;tovffi road. FollOWing U[r John Henderson Company, morticians.
lin.mm's d~at.11 Mr. Cover managed the .and. was removed to the Cover home
concern alone. : , ' .'.' " , . ·this afternoon; .; " : -, .' .
For many years C. D. Cpver ',toOk',a l"riends are requested to omit fi~wers.
• promlnont part in 'politic1< of Cam- , • " -' :O' •
brta . County and al\vays as a Repub- ------- . . . _.' - - '-
.Jrcau, At one tlme he Waf; the Chair-
" man of 'tho Republle:tn CountyCom- \
.' mlttee anel later 'servcd on the state
Republican Committee•. From ISBO to
, 18S6 he was county AUcl1tor and wa:;
, tor tV/o terInsBorough Auditor.. At
the time of the Flood of Ma7, 18lUl, he
(represented. tho Fourth' Ward' in' the The Johnstown Tribune
'Johnstown EoroughCouneii:-In' 1895
"l.lF."'"Cover served-ass1lifElBank: E::am- May 3, 1930
, Incr.- Mr. Cover was a. charter mem- l
. bel' of the old Amicus Club and was '
nctive on its commlttecs' for a num- ~
ber of ~·ears..' He was Identified wIth j
. ·the FIrst Lutheran .com;regation ,fIJI' I
Jt1any years; ,\-vas a mcmbel' ',.1'- . the . (3)
. Eoard of Trustee:; at' ,the old church .
property when it stood 011 Franklin
f;rtcct~ nr.d '':.:l~ n. m'~'mb:l!" of the 1.'.1-
 --.'.~_{_:~ PA~E TWtf~~f?r;~~~t~?L=-Z' l1.~~";T~:;t- -. ~;:~;;::-:28'
~.7.~:

::.--;- r-:--::-:----:--~~~~;.;_~~~~~.::..::....::.........:.::.~~:..:;._=r

The JohnstOwn Tribune

1925, p.2.

(4, pp.1-3)
: nlshed . them -:y~u~'sel!-wentitO : the I:
"hill a.nd·cut.Your, wood, .Jnto the mine'
·or hole In:;the~;:round and' dug ·your.·
coal, a,~d.·to-the..rlver.tor ·your.water.; .r
,So that .1ti.·too]c!about...all·your 'wak~
lng liours-·to'·.ta:ke care:·.ot youreel!.···-
· :.:' Andi>rememlfU;- there~wa.s··no seurce,
ot· newa..trom':the· ·outlllde.world;· " no
·newsP&Iierrnoo.iielegraph.,'A·. governor. I
o~thiii)!.tate:.¢oh a."presldent. at· ..... the
11nlted.tSta.tei:.iIlJ S'h t;.bo... 81ected:.a.nd.
l
·eever~~onth8€:go_.by.,;betore:,
~\they.
;:t!.oul~oWT,wJ\,o.;~.t.f:w:a·s.\·Ev:~n tualty.;
.aoJI!e~~y.p.Ul~coiD~!:rjd1ng;:irr·.t:r.o~ I
th.Ii. ¥9~0::::'lIeilt~'~and. ~gly.~:tthe"ilr-:.l
:·torm~trong.ii~"ilfi., '~~..£,~;';~~.~'~~'
·~.Af~~:wa..rdli·~ cam6<>,~tho,t~cana1·a.ncL
· thlnP11ie~~.".~ ~.~·an~e;~~en,:'ia.~ed
~.a':~L.. . ap~~ejJelll'gr,aph; ;';:J:L'l'
:'W'oul~!i!".~t",e~ .,~~?Gtho.·.i"i pres.en t:;.
,tlm~ itC?~.::.eA.~ te~Of£!u.nd!?rstaI!~~;.;.tl!e::.
"'lmportancS'.:, o ...ffi·eeeeCtiiUlgell.~·and: .
[;tJ:1elz+.lnlltience .up~if~t~~:,"pe.C?,ple'~:':9.L:
!:'~ohnlltown ..at, a,t.•~tline~Ieijl;~:",."!.i:,;>~·.~
¥.'-;:~Cover.:;S ,·told~~o!t-.8"'great··lIur~·
·~'to!,jJiim;1,'\.wl:ieri·:::men-·
.',pris·eA'.:.that; ca.
:ca.inebfthroughlitriilging:~·a.;;... wire:..to
i;P~le~'.t~a~!~h¥d~~J>een~.previously..
·.erecbd;.:-H,,~e:tr~e7'tellf"'·
tgTa,t!h~ and"'.hS:~supposed·:'I~:.to;bea
~pipeJ:or' tube-;"through··'whlch·'a.· mea-
;-lIag~' written'" on-r.-papcr; ·::-.woul.:i. be
'''''somehow torced.·.,.;And·.,when he saw
~thefJVire a.nd~ nothlIlg. 'eise he wa& at
'hls:;;wlt'll encL' " ';:;"7· L .::' .r'>: :~"!'" .•.• ' I
fJ~':$e !\Vould': nii:~ to"~:' 'telr -:3.' lot er :
peCullar"thlngs that came direct from:!
',one';Jwho ~:kne~;'a~)'.about..the.m from1
,e:rperlence;-::-,b00 "!lIpace.·:wlll.·.not per-: t
··mlt.~· ~':~~::~.i::_~~:'::iJ.:::!. :;~~·~:::::·~~:·( ..~!-:':,i~f
'~~,Charles BJ' Cover'''''was ·:graduated·.I
.'trotii', .Tohn·stown.~High_school Whim It·; .
;~alll1ocated,where the B~: & .0. depot,,'
.no~·standlr;:..He-· w!1s" coun t~ •.auditor··:l
tor.!3ix years 'and 'also wlI.l!,·,.One -er .
· three -audltors,-o!'old ..Tohnstown; con:..·1
-slst1ng of.·,hlmeel!', .John·, D~7Roberts,
th~eit~anlier.,and :·Irwln,·Horrell•.;, on.e.
timt; burgess 0!'·.1 ohnstown,; .~ - ."- ','; -.
.:: ':Mi". Cover has. -bee n ·proprletor ··of.
ti:v.r~storesi~ocated variously on cue-.
-to~[aln and Walnut atreets and-: on'
:~~u!ra) p~lc:·atter. the tiood.:the last
ione.being;' on ','tliecorner', of' Haynes
:.:tll~Napoleon~stre.ets•. ,.,~:.:.~., ',': :.-;:::
;~:;,.~: was appoInted. stat'e';banIC ·ex·-I
'amUler and traveled ·over·. the state in
tlia~·capacitTtor..'qulte-' a: while. . .
\~'~. Coyer.was. t):Ie first· mariager of
:a.-,.pjLld. b.asebaU 'cteam ~1n.·.1ohnsotwn.
',and!flt would:'make' Interesting' read-··
:ing:t,ror ·Our,.blueball : tans it we .were '
.to:<,-;-rIt8l. uP; -the "detalls at· the'·, con•. /
'ttnual IItrug~la·:he.":'Wa. compelled to. I
malle ,.trying-,:·tOo'··lIaUdy . tha··playe,:",
,.!iIr8,,/:O",", .nd. •.th.... publl.e; :;'It.,dlcl:JO!'t.-.
I
iaicidiliJ.. ioiig.'to 'ftnd. that It couidnit
be done.'·so he· just dId thebellt he.
I
could, :·~ut· hel wJlLa.lwa.ys· remember
this as one oj the, most: trying.· pe-.
·rlodsl-ot hllf'.c~eer~';::;'::::~,~.:f::~~~" ~.T:'
:"':'·Fo~"lIome yel1rs:prJor,to'the Johns....·
:towni,ttood ·M~Cover.,·'Wa:a:asaoclated'·
:with Ulia ."rothe!; lh' the-..llvei'Y':J1usl-:'
·n8ll1l; '~:1lu~~1LlII.Y.t· 31-....11189...
-,came ~.the·
rUllh .'~;'\.w'a.t,!lq.- and "dr.owned>':Il1t':;t;h.
horsea:;<:.and 'l dillltroyed ·the.: propert~
Sometyearr.;il.a:o.~.we~.ta.Jked·tet.·... ma
who aa.id~b&;,WlU,carried,over~Cover.'5' . I
'livery.illtab~on...the-..doori ota ··trelgh t
·ca.r~·alii;.;J1&;i-!~e.,.;:..:w~ere~l:.th_;~r
'came' ~!,in::.o~pow,.he"got'-o~e·:~Jd­
.
I
'not kno~-1H;B_Ut.he ~dIStll1C~y~em.sm-'J
:oers 1L~~r1p.r.!~e·,horse:,: IInortln~,!-nd I
·tusslng.'\;lI.l!' th.ttY;··were lengulfed,~th&1
;waters.ff.G~~:¥:~~ '5:::'~' ~: . . . ~~~t~;t';~;~·~;~·: .
:J'·~Mr. \ Cover..tfi= ,now':en gaged. "In. the:
·retail.·eoaudi'uSlness.' his '~tnes ,being;
.locate '::alan ·;the·. .. w'" a ~.
's business;.~·ovalv'e9-! mIIler.e;· teams
'and~ tea:~ster.~uici:.\'jqso~the. public
and, whUe:he,' Idn't 5a)',.ao, we.knOW1
by ,wha.l:-::we.. htve. ~earned: trom 'other
.sourceS,fth...a,t.5'~e must.· h~V!.."hl.S.:~ands.
·full. ·?".!f,I:.'-';li~"::-': ~~;•..';;"::';' .~\\. '1.'~'.~-;:'!' ~.
?:~'But ,~70u,~;.tan'~::-;;8Poll~~or ~:.ol1r ..
"Charley/,.'t.nO] matter· what· thlt'-en-
·vlronment::'· . You .·wlll. find him just I
.~~~ ~,~~:'·~;~:tsdl:~o~~:~~~~·r~(l' ~~~tE I (4, p.2)
(4, p.3)
 Toward Mary C. Jones' 'COVER KITI.

Recollections of Chas. B. Cover

When,quite young, Father remarked to that in our environmentme

I was not 'really learning about People. So he arranged with a family
of Pennsylvania Dutch for me to spend a'month with them inmid-sum-
:mer .on the family' B farm. The family included a boy 'about 'my fige~'
'1twaa aper~,od,~of.'trell;1en~ous obs,~rva:tion 'and 'participation bfL, min~i
chores ~ ~,' .. , ,~J",::.: "':"'~-~
j ~ c.
;'" ,:>.:;, '.c:" ,
" .,:,": ~"::'",',,::' ,. ,
J ,- ":.

::" :: ,p~t'~a,,~~p~c,~~i~·'~ven . i:>.br~~ih.~ '~h~ ~'~i~it\~ ~ ,~~,10'7e ~ On "'one ~Bi..d~,:«Jt.t.he

.barri, .runrn.ng l.ta :full,.length, .was an cpenar ea ave.i.Le.hl,e for many uses"
'The r'oof of ,this' ,':space .waa ' a 'continua:t'ion ;'0'1' ;th'e :'be:rn'~ro~i. Thera ,,'wera '
:wqoden,aides ::~nclor:iing,;.!azi~. \ }~~':r::~i'e~ :,of,s~il: :gl~·as:~'pan~s.' r~ini th,~",
;f;lnti,re.,lenth ,Jus.t;und~r_th,e ~J.:.oof. The bay'1rrr:rage be:t m,:, ~I .couldn'_t~hi.t
the ~glass'.,.' I "aa.Ld ~a. stone' ,',w~)\il,d,'~rr:8.k i t~~~ass "and..I. wouldn't do' .~t.
He urged me that his father 'wanted them'removed but couldn't'getup to'
'do ~he job. 'So ,I "threw '8,' stene and splintered 'a pane ~ The father came
running, and grabbed hisJa on, 'w.ho' protested ,that' I had done it. ~,I -retorted
with an 'account 'of the sonIa urging story. The father paddled the 'son;
I returned home~" ",;', ' ';'" ,,' ", ." .. ,~:,' r :

;.-r'-: , I ~ • '.-~~: . . . '\ " •• __

, ,,: ,'A<'Ch'autauqua~ .\..;~ met a :w~man. and her "so~ :a' little/'y~unge'r than';I ..
She was,fromColumbus, Ohio. 'X!GG! Ohio State Univ .. 'was my ob j ecteve for
~my freshman year~so she 'promised to arrange for me'tq stay withtha'fa~
'roily with which she and'son lived~ That seemed,tosatiafy my family~
This ,family also'was 'Pa. Dutch'~ It was 'comfortable, meals were good
'and the distance to the campus only a few blocks. But the leading re-
collection? At.ea~h, dinner; the Ihead of the houss' said grace, ending
w~ th n Am~r~: ,',~as~ )~~e "mea~.,\1 " , ,- -
,Fathe~u~~d to'
atta'nd;'ma.riy 'p~actice 'sessions: of th~ Chautauqua' Or-
chestra and the junior'base 'ball team.'Several times I heard him say,
IIJ ohn plays 'ed.,:th the orchestra and..QD. the baseball team'" ,; , .' ,,
But Damrosch came with the N.Y. Philharmonic, and I \Jas pemtted
to practice with him, a marvelous opportunity. However, the number on
tqe roster was'Ryden's Surprise Symphony. And did I surprise the or-
chestra~ There isa section which gradually moves from forte to pian~
'isomo, then is silent for a measure, then hits multi-forte with one
-note--Eeyden's'SURPRISE. One of my Btrings had snapped and I replaced
,and tuned it, glancing'consis,!:-ently at the Gcore to follow theci~~
chee t ra ' a progress.' When the string seemed ,to be in, tune; I posed .to·
reenterl on the bang, which,! did except that I surprised everyone 'by'
bangi~g in,the ~ilent period: ,I was so ~mbarrassed,~hat I looked for
a ,trapdoor to:e'xit.BtitDamroBch'smilec.and noddedi,and ..at the end of ,
'the rehearsal'a'large,. German tuba player came 'over as I, was putting the
violin in the cas e, put hiB arm around me'and said, IINow you are one: of
us. II ..

j. . .
(5, pp.1-3)
 ~CJ's Cover Kit-~p.2

Fathe r felt that he had been luc~ in survi ving the

Johns town flood of
1889. He had acqui red prope rty at the corne r of Hayne
s and Napol eon stree ts
which includ ed five house s •. The' flood had carrie d
the house s up a valle y not
in the main stream l and depos ited tbem on the land
of an acqua intan ce. As soon"
as possi ble after the stree ts 'becam e usabl e he went
to confe r with the reci~·
p i errt , Fathe r. was, afraid he would be told to remov
e the house s, which he- could
not affor d, 'eo be offere d them as a gift,: '-'acc epted
•. ' As soon as possi ble he
made his 'Way to \'(estmont~· climb ing the hill;, and
to relati ves of his fianc e
where he hoped John Higao n had guide d his famil y.
Corre ct. Our ~randfather ..
,Rigs.on,' Jto' be)" had tpul l.ed his 'famil y membe rs 'to j;he
roof 'of their home- befor e
,the. ,f~o.od,Btrea.ms.,hads_we'pt.it'to lodge with other
house s again st the Stone ,:...
'Br~dge.'·ofthe 'Penn'. H.R:· As soon as possi ble,
he guide d fa:mil y membez-a, "one: a t,
~a ..tim.e ·over hOUBe'~roofs "to'·th e 'Bridg e, to ·the
Hill, then the climb ,·to···t he- fop"
."~. - ,:"Pr~vioU:siy: las the torre nt of the flood 'reach
ed the town, Fathe r :climb ed
~-C?th'e roof'. of a l ivery '.stab le and Waa carri ed
into backw ater'. ;;.::;: ::",;:, ;~.:. ' :',.
.: _. :, '.' -"The Fed eral gover nmen t· buil t a few shack s on
the amll c'ent ral park, and
Fathe r .rente d one, ins:ta lling groce ries as avail able.
Suba equer rt Iy , with acces s
to :the. Hayne s-Nap oleon Sts. prope rty he built a one-s
tory struc ture and trans -
):'.erre d his groce ry busin ess there . Adja cerrt , he built
' a home in which th'e chil-
.·dren J,.in ·order .John , l-!e.ry and Louis e were bli)1:,n~' John
'was named ·f.or John: t-ligso n
..and: incre asing ly 'appre ciated .the honor . Five' years
.Jater }!lB.ry was "bern and ., ..~
,named fo~ Grand mothe r Cover . With Louis e's bi~th
in 1900- r was suffi cient ly
--awar e' of triba l pract ices to be concemedab~ut tbe
poter -tials for honor ing
older , ,fami ly memb ers J some of whom had.' ancie nt I .of!
',funny J names . 1-Jore over, .
this waa 'the' centen~al year for Johns town; a birthd
ay honor . oJO r ~mmediately .
.began callin g my izifan t siste r," Louis e ll • • . . '.' . .. . '
.',:'. _ Grand father John Rigso n as'a Londo n youth of
.se·ve nteen bad hea rd 'the" .
:fmer ican Amba ssador tell ~f. the issue of slave ry
.in the outb re~ of the Civil
.'liar'- He d'ecid ed t'o 'parti cipat e, uaile dto Phila delph
ia, enlis ted, and was ,:
~se'ntwi th·8...Tl army group for train ing in New York
State . There he ,met ha e ,f'u":"
.·ture . bride . He waS wound ed in battl e when ian A.me
ricanf lag vas shot down; and
.he resto red ',it. 'As an honor he was desig nated an'
aid to the Presi dent, ' but
'seve rity 'ofth e multi ple wound and the lengt h 'of
recov ery in a hospi tal did
not pe·rI!!.it activ ity in the new uward . ..' ,
, Gr~T).dfather Cover waS a membe r of the Cover
farme rs famil y of "Cove r Hill~
As .n:a'1e child ren reach ed age twent yoneJ they were
expec ted to initi ate the±ll
futur e ·care ers. The oldes t son by tradi tion remai
ned on the fathe r I fI farm and
inher ited it. Young er sons were given a new auit
of cloth es to ventu re to town
and start , their'· caree rs; Grand father .'was the secon
'succ essfu l. :One""of his histor ica.l" jobs was direc tor
d son. 'He .ias comp etent and
of the tr'arls fer statio n,
'locat ed 'in Johna to'wn: ' where t.he railro ad from Phila
delph ia :'ove' r the mourrt a.t ne I
met the cana.l .from Pittsb urgh, and passe ngers and
freig ht trans ferred .Gran d-
mothe r Cover wao al~t, intel ligen t and affec tiona
te. She lOied to sit on the
front porch ' of her 'home on' ~~ain 'Street~' just'o r:fosi te'8. large aud
L toriu.m •. As
s.l).a' .lost her heari ng she insis ted that shee nj eyed
'. ... the rythm ,throu gh her feet ..·
:": '. ~ '. Fathe'~' a'cq~ired' a seam of coal 'on' ti1~ side
a t r ee t , An earli er mine on the aide of Cover Hill
~f"a. 'hiil' j'ust abo';'~ city. - a
had serve d 'itaca pa'ci ty wi th-
in manag eable limit s. The new locat ion was conve nient,
but the capac ity amall .
(botb run-o f-min e house coal (Bitu minou s). This occup
ation was withi n the in-
teres t and c ompe tanc e of Fat.he r , But non- econo mic
comp etitio n broug ht havoc .
After our entry into the Firat '.v'orld '/;ar, I return
ed from New York to regis ter
for the draft . I found Fathe r 'out of busin ess'.
The Congr ess had p~ased a bill
limit ing incre aso of ~rke t price of bitum inous coal
for the the durat ion of
the War to ~. Pitta burgh coal opera tors with mines
in the Johns town area met
wi th local opera tors and propo sed that the total
incre ase go into effec t at once.

(5 J p.2)
 MCJla Cover Kit--p.;

Father objected: 1. they were already making an ample profit;2. the legislation
covered the whole period of the war ; and it would be unpatriotic to boost the price.
ONLY THE BEGINNING!
.. ..... '.:-:: . '; ~ ~

Within days, a break occurred in the roof of Father's mine and wate~ poured
in from a Pgh. Co. mine in the seam just above Fatherls. The' seam slanted down-
ward from the entrance to Father I s mine, so pumping proved hopeless. Father
cal~e~ upon the State Gov't. in Harriebur~ for an investigation'. The assigned
ind1v1dual"reported~thathe could not determine'whether it was an accident or
an "act of 'Godl! i Father was out of business. . . . . ' ._' "'"
But Fathe; insisted :~ha.t, b~cicompao/ me"~~ the "dr~ft"~egist;~tio~~:se~si~~.
He succeeded ari. removing me frdm. immediate draft'· by noting that my wife was
pregnant, which the . official accepted ~ ~Just .to add·t-he final .. chapter: .re N.Y.O.
I forgot one Monday.totake.the'~card~frommy Sunda.y'·sllit~and"c'arrY.~:·it: ...I;·was
stopped at the sUbway -entran:ce:·a.nd··.~asked~-for .:::theYeii~cien~·e'. of .regis~ra:ti~n~.r
was provoked that I 'had :forgotten: to tr'ans'fer 'fr'om':one'.sui t '-to 'th'e :prea eni 'and
said I would go 'back 'home and 'get "1 t. '~rothi:ng'doizig;' a.nd.I·was· ·a.ccompaziiedto
a downtown'auditorium where suspects 'were~ldep08ited~~I~'xp'lained to a.n;offi~
cial. He offered' to telegrapb :a-t mt ;eXpe'ns~' tOo J ormst-own ·.:q.r"~iQ.iSrl~ ~d,'r~eciue's't
confirmation. I objected that it 'would get' -to',a. newspaper -re¥orter and' that the
story would ..classify- me as a dodger. So what? When the group of officials was
releaved and a replacement arrived, I got in line again, explained the error,
and said if:. I phoned my office close ,by 'someone would. go"t'omy h~tn~. :a.ndget· .the
evidence, and insisted that the official' come listen'to conversation•. HE , mi
BIT, and a, ,~.ol1eague. at· the office made the trip and' got 'me .r~leased •. : ',:: -.'
-~ ~. ~ -'.:~ ~.
. .
" .. '
..• J ..:'" _ '. _ '. .
. '
:":i -.:. i... - ...; : .."
.. ' .. \
··-,
,
1
-.~ -'
Fortl'.!lstely, I was in Pittsburgh when Father was taken' to the hospital; at
Mother!s,request, Alice Tittle.called me and I went at once. Father:was covered
with cords, .tubes, .bandages,:.and could hardly move. While I was' alone with him
he jerked.loos6.from'his restraints,' despite my protest and rushed to the toilet.
A nurse and male assistant replaced him. At meal time I said I.'t/~.~~~ .go have
dinner with~·~other:and return~.~He ur zed that'I avoid the c oa t of'CoiiUIi,f:back--
by streetcard assured him -I would' ;alk, which' I· did •. He: ~l~ O':'01ai.med that they
were .keeping.'1\ rr om a conference .date·downtown •. I .
offered' to .notify
; ".
his
,. .
friends.
. .
Dix Tittle arrived about 11 p~m. as I' was leaving. TlJe staff lat.er.·reported
that he was abnoxious: insisted upon a cot]:' for hintifIs:ced ·iri,!:!-.',private' room.
Father. died that night and Dix railed that he was the'only 'one 9fthe family to
be present. . -~ . ~ - - -- . --- - --:-.- - - ------:-:- .~==--=---= -~ --=-" - -.
'. • SUbsequently a friend who was present aad d .he ·wa·s. really.grieved
• " -. .. • - ". :. t_" J '''. • • . , .... ~.' .~

t:or Mother and. me , . , . ., .: - .'.. : . . .. . ,'."'. '.:, r •...

. Mother arranged for a conference at her home w5.th a laWyer.' ~ar.lier ·that
mo:rning. I had been surprised to 'see Dix 'rifling' tr:r·ough·.Fa:ther.ls ..desk.::"! ;~;
guessed .that Father had loaned- him aome money which _a.receipt 'W;puld identify 0

At. the conference with ·the lawyer which Dix ana Alice attended;' Dix said.. he
had loaned Father $700.' I replied 'that' I had seen Dix leafing' through Father's
papers that morning, and had guessed that he was intent upon removing a receipt
for a loan to him from Father; that Father was meticulous, and if he had borrowed
money a record would be kept. Finally the lawyer recommended that we arrange a
short session with a county judge. I went to EbansburgV, gave my testimony, and
told the judge that Father had two bank boxes, one of which he had explained to
me was savings for daughter Louise who hgd had TB. The judge approved ,our posi-
tion. (But did Dix make $700 out of the deal?). Schluss!
More later, but please 'weed out' the undesirable.~
JHC .-
.-

/e;!.. ~~ ~""'V/!..J;.<'~IL. '17""':"1 /:"}-/-~_:;~

I I ~I . / I
7 cr-a~-~~.
/-+£-1:-.
(5,p3)
 _._--_ _._---_._.__ ._ _----- -
.. ..

s.
.~-

JHS.liIAHY uo.vrar~ ; ..• , » •

I

.StiTH '}lNNIVERSl1RY " .,

.DIRSI'~fi11\RY S~ 'COVER '
.- ' II'- '.,

I&;A N,ONAGENARIAN i
,.r.. t • <C.'.

One of J ohnsto wn '8 Oldest Resi-

dents Was Born in Martin sburg,
This' State, ' ·in July,' 1828
Mr:s. Mary Scslor Coverv wrdow of
. Widow of \YiHia lll. CO"Cl' "Vas '
Born in 'DI:lil" County iu ] sis; .
'William Cover and 'n, daughte r ot

I
}Ias ~i\'ed .II:!'\} Since 18:1-1·-.
lIrs.·· Mar~' S~IYlo1' Cover- widow 'of ;.'
I!
, I \i"illia~l1" COV"'I'; 81'•• ot tl~tl :'>lain S~I'''l.t.!·
.\ Fourth W:..-il'd, l:i qUit-}t1~' celebru ttng the.l·
!lOth anntvcr surv or' her bh-th tOdlt~··l. •
I
, :i.\frs.; 'Cl)\'er was born in Dla!l' County :
i 011. July ~.. rses, and W:l:J but six ~'carsl'.
I of use when h,~r parents . ~1:r. and 1\II's:.
l
i 1<'l o:"s e Sll~·lor,. r£-ll1oved to thts. place
11Illl loc.i.t':-d ill tIle Fourth WUl'c1;·.Where;
\.~ ,
. ..~
c

I
j.
!

Mrs. Mary S:lylor Cover.

i (Su!"£;'e Saylor, one of the early Post-
_>"'s 'of tlns ('it~-, wili be 87 ~'e:lrs
01.. 'Olnorro w and a. family dinner wrll ]
1012- :;[:rvcu In her 1101'101' at ·Iler resi-I
~ee, !::!I) Main street, where ~rr_ arid I
grtJ'Jit&:?~htl~r, make theh- home. Mrs..,
Ch nrlus . B,' Hu mm, of Wayno, ncar
Phfln dol ph ln, u.rrtvcd In .Johnsto wn
Tue,qrla y £'venln:: ; to remain for th,) din-
ner -nrid IHr.·I-:Io .mm, who hnll been in.
Pittsbu rg alnco 'J.'uesdn.y nlg-ht, Is ex-
pecterl to nrrtvo this ovcnlnrr .
COVl'r·· Wn.EI born ,TUb' 2, 1828, In Mar-··
1\lrs. .~". Mr.s. Mary .Saylor Cover. ' ." ':i
ttnsburg , BIILI\" Count)', and cnrno . to
Johnllto wl1 With her parents , Mr. and ~-r-r-s.-_-.c-o-\--e-r-~as "si;;e made ~er-h-o-m-e.
Mra, Georrro Sn.~·llll·. when she WLl~ a. Her father was one of the ea rly Pos t-:
mere child; ···Iler husband . .the late master- s of Johnsto wn.. The postofft ce
\VJIIlam Cl)vC'I',. sr., WU!$ Idl1nlifle rl with. at that 'tiille was loco.ted in a Ij.tt le
one of the oldeat fl1mllIcl i in this vi- . ~brlcl" structu re on the corner of 'l\fain'
ctnltv, and her flLthcl:" wna-T'o atrnnatc r and Adams street,. Fourth "'-aI'd, on the;
of thls city rnoro than GO ~'enrB ngo. ~ site of the Hoffma n g-roce~'·store. Mrs.'
!\Trl'. Hurnrn is the only drurg'h ter of 1 Cover' Is . the mother of 'Charle s B.
l\tr:;, "Cover- nnrl Chal'les D. em'cr, of: Cover, of the South Side. .Tohn Rig-soil
tho South Side, Is hnr only Bon . . Tho! Cover, of New York Cit}", a son of lIlr.'
Ia.te \\-illi'lm C, 'Cover, tho 'well Imown ' and ::\Irs. C. B. Cover, is. a grands.o n,
Ih'el'~'mlln, waa ntso a son of :l'.Irs.: and E\-elvn .Tune Cover, duughto r of
r.Lnl:"Y Coverv His rleuth occurrr- d here 1[1'. and :.\irs. J, H. Cover, born on June
,'n ·fow ~·en.r3 ag-o. Mrs. Cover has nine' 7, . Is , tho first great-g randdau g-hter
grllnclc hildrcn. Includin g- John Hlgson ' born in" 'the' Covcr family. The nono.-
Cover, son of Mr. and Mrs. Chnrtes C. ; 'genari an. is enjoying - excellen t' health.
Covorv who recently arrtved in Vienna, :.\11'. and Mrs. A. Dix Tittle have been
Austria , ·to accept a position III the' making- their homo wltb ho r frrr- somo
United States Embass y there, while'
his sJster.· Miss Mary: E. Covcr.· who'
j
~-ears. ::\Trs, 'Cover b elng ~,lrs, 'I'It tle's
. gro.ndm other. - ... " . . ,
was rccently graduat ed from .the
"
.. ~.

Johnsto wn High School; lett Tuesda y' The Johns town Tribu ne
JlI~ht .for the Adirond acks 'to remain '
for a month or so with a. 'settlem ent i c. July 2, 1918
par-ty from New York Cit~'. l\Irs,
Thomas E. ~-att, of Pi ttabur'g, ~vlfe of '
the retired P. R, R. official, is a niece'
of Mrs. Mary _ _ _-Saylor
- D - -Cover.. •

The John stow n Tribu ne (6)

c. July 2, 1915
 No tes on ~he 'Co ver ' F~ ~l Y
Joh n Higtlon

In thi s ver~ion# he was bor n

em plo yed . He was pres errc at and rea red in London,
an out doo r add r ee s or the Am Eng lan d, and var ijo ucl y
who exp lai ned 1:.he war ror the eric
pa rti cip ate and enq uir ed as lib era tio n of the sla ve s. He an .AI:1bassador"-toBritai
to pro ced ure s. The n he sai led iIm ned iate ly dec ide d"t o,
enli~ted. His reg ime nt to Ph ila del ph ia wh ere he
was dis
s-a(yup. of 131mira, New Yo rk, wh pat che d for ini tia l tra ini ng to No rth ern 'Pe nns ylv ani
ere he
The n he wa::l sen t int o com bat met 'An nie '. , ','( '~,~,::'~,
enemy sho t down the Am eric an . His wounci may hav e occ urr ed
at Ant iet wn~ The ",";
ces s he watl sho t in the lef t fla g, which he res cue d and rep lac ed. But in the pia':;"
thr oug h the rib s. sho uld er, the bu lle t cou rsi ng
down his sid e and, ou t .~:
. Tra nsf err ed to a Tllashington
ho spi tal and des ign ate d in the ',:::,;:i, ,,>~~ . ::,~;':i '.;;
of the Pre sio ent , his pro gre
so 6pe ci~ i: l:Ie;,vi'c~:'~~'::
a Par k, he t:lt ole fro m the hO was e Lov , Le arn ing of an old mi ll on Rock~Creek;" 'Il~"
l:lp ital at nig ht and i'ound a
str eam fal lin g rro m the mi ll po sit ion wh ich }le rm itte dt1 :
nig hts of thi s tre atm ent , the to courl:le thr oug h and cle ans e the wounu. Af ter sev era l
hea lin g. He bel iev ed in the me dic al per son nel exp res sea
~ur pri se at the ra~
err ica cy or wa ter . pid
Upon rec ove rin g, he che cke d ; ' , ....... " '~
the be ttin g and op eci fic K ~ on ava ila ble job s as far we st'
as' St~ LOUiS,
fur nac es at the Cam bri a ~teel g at Joh nst ow n app
eal ed to him : he was in cha rgebu t
Co. of
He too k me on many t:lhort wal
bleres wh ich young peo ple pro kQ in the nei ghb orh ood , dil: lcu ssin g i~p
bab ort ant pro -
when bit! top ic was the gen era ly would fac e as the y,m atu red _ I rec all one oca asi on
had jus t bee n bor n to the wif l inc on sid era ten ess of men to women. A ~eventh chi ld
of his fam ily " sil en tly , anc e or a fri end of his . (I imm edi ate ly che cke d the siz e
i arr ive
,;:,ubsequentl.y, upo n the dea th d at sev en, but &:laid no thi ng ).
pra cti ce of cal lin g upo n Gra or our Grand rat he r Co ver
ndm oth er Cover once a week wit , he est abl ish ed the
gen er~ l cha ttin g. 3he
wa~ much ple a::l ed.
h news, ~tories, and ,

Anne Hig son

Gra nam oth er Rig son was

much sm all er tha n her hus ban an exc el! ent 1ho me -m ake r$ ape cor dia l fri en d. ohe was
d,
tur ned rro m work, app roa chi ng and moved abo ut rap idl y. Ev eni ngs , wh~n Joh n re-
obe would ras h to the doo r and via the kit che n doo r, he woUld giv e a fav ori te ca ll;
It was a, 'sig ht I enj oye d t'z- jump at him, bei ng cau ght ~~a
equ en't Iy , o he w'as an ex cel tos sed int o the air .
me l'li th "lu nch any tim e I sho uld len t coo k and off ere e to pro
lik e, me rel y r.;ros::;ing -
~choqt~"but I reg ard ed
tha t as an added cbo re and carthe str ee t rro m tbe High '
Our'home on Na poi eon ,;:,treet rie d can dw icb es fro m home.
,wa
of the ne are st bri dge cro stli ~ many bio cks away, in pa rt bec auc e of the lo~ation
low er Na pol eon , it is a pie asa the ~tony Cre ek. (W ith a rer.;ent dir ect bri dge on
ng
nt ~troll.)
,
She org ani zed a gro up of wom
a ,week in her din ing room. Th en fri end s to meet ror YJ litt
eir pro duc ts we re not ew ort hy. ing and we avi ng "once '

An amu~ing eve nt: The tele~hone

ctr ee t. ~xt~~A~i~aAcfxt~~i~in company dec ide d to wtr ing a
wir e dO\n1 the
imm edi ate ly in rro nt of the ~a~ a. The workmen sta
rte d to dig a hol e ror a polir
fro e '
inl :ltr uct ed the bos s to can cel nt porr.;h ote ps. Grancimother r.;hased the m away anu
at Iun ch t Lme j-' and when the y the ir pra ne , The workmen cov
ret urn ed Gra ndm oth er wal:l sit ere d the hol e wit h pla nks "
pla nk s. ·Th at was thc .t! tin g in a roc ker on the "
Of cur viv ing chi ldr en: Ka te
~.E . Co ver j Agnes ma rrie
b~caDe a ~uD~ic och
d Ha rry Giv en. An eld er tlon ool tea ch er; Ca rry ma rrie d
drowneu at sea . (I thi nk the too k
re wab a oti 11 old er ~on who a ma riti me job and was
did no t ret urn .) Ale ck, as I went for tun e-h un tin g and
r eca Iu , worked in ~.£:t'e:f-:b
are a, thl:ln in 1<'lorida. ~re j:'i'rt:lt in the Oh ica go
d-c-z;~u..O
(7)
;r~r"t_."d!'i~?:1-&;::;"'':1'.
 INTRODUCTION.

A book on such a subject, written to give a plain statement

of facts and do something for a good cause, could have no intro-
duct ion better than this letter from one of the eminent divines
of the age:
57 'VEST FORTy-SIXTH STREET,
NEW YORK, 0\"0-::'. 4, /889.
J. J. ~JCLAURIS, ESQ., Harrisburg, Pa .
.I~I" Dear Sir: I see by Governor Beaver's letter to the publisher that you
propose to write a book on the Johnstown Flood. It should be done at once, while
the scenes and incidents of those dreadful days are fresh and unfaded in our
minds.
Let the story of the awful calamity be put into enduring type for future gene-
rations. It ranks among the great calamities of the world and deserves a place in
Hisrory.
I know no one better qualified for the task than yourself. Having seen it with
your own eyes, now Jet your graphic pen tell the story for unborn generations. 1
sincerely trust the volume may soon come from the press and a copy of it lie on
my table. Sincerely yours,
. JOHS R. PAXTOS.

If the volume merit the approval of the public, and be the

means of relieving distress, the author will be doubly rewarded
for a labor which necessarily involved many painful experiences.
"The Story of ] ohnsrown .. goes forth dedicated to every man,
woman and child whose heart has felt for the sorrowing, whose
mite has be-en given to alleviate distress, and to whom the claims
of a stricken community can never appeal in vain.

Taken from McLaurin (1890).

This "eminent" divine is reputed to be a relative of the

Paxton side' of the family'.

(8, pp. 1-4)

 ::.
o

(8, p.2)
THE BURSIl\ G \VRECK AGE ABOVE THE. STONE
BRIDGE .

(8, p.3)
118 THE'STORY OF JOHNSTOW1'o:

was hurled shrieking against the railroad bridge, pinned into the mass beyond
all possibility of escape. It was not only death, but death with all the horrible
tortures that can be imagined.
The horror and infinite pity of it all!

.;;..- ....
_.~-

IlESCt:ED AT A SICiNM. TOWEll..

(8, p,4)
 Taken from Pennsylvania Heritage, Spring 1982, pp.18-23.
In{) Dream of Sfttlrity:
I ",
.JOI111StO"T11 and Flood Control
15y Alan "Clive
HEY DON'T TAKE RAIN for granted in Johnstown
T anymore. Walking down Market Street or cruising
Route 56, pedestrians may pause and drivers may
slow as the first drops land. Anxious glances skyward reveal
the unspoken thought: will it happen again? They are re-
calling the terrible night in July 1977 when the rain fell and
fell and the dream of a flood-free Johnstown shattered for-
ever. --
That dream arose to counter the nightmare that plagued
the city, the perennial menace of floods. At the bottom of
a mountain valley in south central Pennsylvania, the Cam-
bria County community is at the meeting place of rivers.
the Conemaugh, the Little Conemaugh and the Stony
Creek. The rivers were part of Johnstown's fortune, pro-
viding scenic beauty and a highway west for locally pro-
duced iron ore.
18
But the rivers brought misfortune as well. Every spring,
the heavy snow melt from the hills poured millions of
•
gallons into the streams. Annual rainfall of forty-five inches
swelled the watercourses further. An unusually fast melt or
excessive rainfall could turn the mountain brooks above the
city from trickles to torrents in minutes, adding yet more
to the burden of the rivers. While Johnstown grew from a
frontier outpost at the turn of the nineteenth century to a
steelmaking center of 30 thousand inhabitants in the late
1880s, urban growth encroached on the waterways, creating
valuable real estate through land fills but also narrowing the
streams, diminishing their capacity to carry off high water.
The result: eleven floods between 1808 and 1889, each
leaving behind sodden basements, mud-encrusted streets,
tangles of debris and the harsh. unrewarding job of putting
things to rights.
One flood did more; on May 31. 1889, while Johnstown
soaked under ten feet of water in its spring "bath," a huge
earthen dam at Lake Conemaugh collapsed. A wall of water
(9, pp.1-6)

//fterJJ/ath of the
1889 Disaster
forty feet high crashed fourteen miles down the valley,
sweeping houses, trees, locomotives and people before it,
virtually annihilating the town. More than 2,200 persons
died. In an epic human endeavor the city rebuilt itself, but
the phrase "Johnstown Flood" became synonymous
around the world with horrific disaster.
In September 1889, a citizens' meeting in Johnstown re-
solved that "there now exists no reason why the proper
depth and width of our rivers to prevent the periodical
floods that have of late years visited us should not at once
be taken up and settled." The town elders commissioned
an engineer to study the situation, and partially followed
his recommendation to widen and deepen the channels and
to set river widths by ordinance. As the years slipped past,
some minor flooding occurred, but there. was no repetition
of the 1889 threat, and encroachments reappeared: Sand
and earth accumulated in the stream beds.
The second great blow fell on Johnstown, now a city of
70 thousand, during the afternoon of St. Patrick's Day,
Pennsylvania Heritage • Spring 1982
,.
_.-
A~
Qockwise from top left: Remains of the South Fork Dam
showing original elevation; Adams Street morgue, one of
four temporary morgues established [ollowmg the disaster;
Schultz House, a favorite subject for photographers; and
the wreckage at the corner ofMain and Clinton Streets
1936. Intense rain quickly melted the snow cover of a
bitter winter. The rivers rose unexpectedly, submerging a
third of the town in up to seventeen feet of cold, murky
water by nightfall, battering homes and businesses and
marooning thousands of persons on upper floors. Trapped
in the First National Bank' Building at the comer of Main
and Franklin streets, Howard Custer noted a bizarre scene
below him.
Sometime before dark ... five or six pianos
.floated across Main Street and Central Park from the
Porch Brothers piano store. Six men ... in a stranded
streetcar in front of our building were shouting to be
taken off .... An extension of fire hose from the
building was thrown to them, and they came into the
building hand over hand, with one man nearly being
swept away by the strong current.
Some two dozen persons died in the Johnstown area, a
toll mercifully smaller than that of 1889. But the estimated
S41.million in property damage exceeded the losses of the
earlier catastrophe four-fold.
19
(9, p.2)
 The March 17 disaster galvanized the city to a renewed
determination to settle the question of flood control once
and for all. The community's very existence seemed at stake.
The local press demanded federal aid to dredge the rivers
and to prevent future floods by whatever means necessary.
Fifteen thousand Johnstowners swamped the White House
with letters pleading with Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt to
help the stricken city.
Roosevelt heard and took action. In June the President
signed legislation authorizing the government for the first
time to construct dams and river walls throughout the
nation's worst flood zones. On August 13 he came to
Johnstown, toured the largely reconstructed flood district
and spoke to 50 thousand cheering residents in Roxbury
Park. "We want to keep you ... from facing these floods
"again,". he declared, while the multitude waved banners
reading "You Heard Our Plea" and "Dam Our Floods."
"The federal government, if I have anything to do with it,
will cooperate with your state and community to prevent
further floods," Roosevelt continued. It was a pledge that
breathed new life into the dream of security.
But Johnstown was to face two agonizing years of delay,
punctuated in April 1937 by an overflow from the still
debris-chocked channels that spilled five feet of water into
the streets of the lower town. The U.S. Army Corps of
Engineers, the nation's overseer of flood control projects,
became ensnarled in legal and bureaucratic holdups. In
August 1938 a huge steam shovel midstream in the Cone-
maugh fmally gouged the first ceremonial bite of muck to
commence the most extensive channel improvement in
American history .
During the next five years the Corps widened, deepened
and realigned 9.2 miles of channel through the city. Giant
--dredges iCOOPe.d out enough dirt to form a pile the height
20
of the Empire State Building, and workers sheathed the
river banks in 156 thousand cubic yards of concrete and
thousands of tons of reinforced steel. Railroad track, high.
ways, bridges and sewer lines were relocated to clear ob.
structions for a smooth flow of water.
The engineers designed the project to contain the great-
est flood of record, that of March 1936, to I negligible
overflow. Not even World War II interrupted the work,
since Washington considered Johnstown steel production
too vital to be endangered by threat of flood. On November
27, 1943, Col. Gilbert Van B. Wilkes, Chief of the Pitts.
burgh Corps of Engineers District, conducted an approving
final inspection of the work and told a buoyant audience of
town leaders: "We believe that the flood troubles of Johns.
town are at an end .... We salute theflood-free city of
Johnstown:' Expressing the sentiments of the community,
a local newspaper ran a headline reading, "Johnstown
Realizes Its Dream."
Johnstown was now determined that the nation would
share in the realization of the dream, for the project meant
more to the city than a permanent reprieve from death and
devastation, critical though that was. To the people and
their leaders, the river walls were the key to the revival of
an area already beginning to decline econorgically, despite-a
feverish blush of wartime prosperity. Potential employers
seemed reluctant to move to the ill-starred valley. But if the
country could be told-and made to believe-that Johns-
town was now "Flood Free," the economic future might be
assured.
The business community united to launch a six-month
propaganda drive in 1943-44. Thousands of local residents
wrote out-of-town relatives and friends to convey the
cheery message that flooding was at an end. A deluge of
flyers from Johnstown descended on mayors and industrial-
(9, p.3)
 Ists across the land. The Flood City chapter of the Daughters
of Pythias changed its name to "Flood Free" in conformity
to the new vision. The campaign reached its zenith with a
proposal to remove the prominent markers on many build-
ings that measured the height of the 1889 and 1936 floods.
More traditionally minded citizens demurred and the
memorials remained. Meanwhile, magazines and newspapers
with a combined circulation of 50 million were printing
--laudatory stories about the channel improvement. The
flood-free campaign appeared to be an enormous success.
.. That success was illusory. The river walls could not alter
the city's geographical isolation, which made it an unattrac-
live site for plant location. What little industry entered the
area after the war provided mainly unskilled .Iow-wage jobs.
Johnstown remained wedded to steel, a commodity whose
fortunes advanced and retreated with national economic
cycles. From the 1950s throup the 19705 Johnstown-area
unemployment generally stopd at double the national
average. Young people left, the population grew older and
poorer, and the neighborhoods deteriorated. As its numbers
dwindled, the city of friendly, hardworking folk drew in
upon itself, content to dwell within the comer of the dream
that lingered-the belief that the channel project could keep
the city perpetually free from floods.
And so it seemed. Year after year, with hardly a discern-
ible gurgle and splash, the submarine expressway faithfully
carried off the spring snow melts and the rain-fed high
waters. The project's finest hour came in June 1972 as
Tropical StolfT1 Agnes pounded Pennsylvania from east to
west, engulfing Wilkes-Barre, Harrisburg and other cities in
flood waters, killing scores and wreaking a multi-billion-
dollar damage toll. Severe flooding occurred even in rural
Cambria County, but Johnstown's streets and homes re-
mained safe. The fear of the flood menace receded and so,
Courtesy Irving London
WPA workers (far left) help merchants
to muck out after the /936 flood. the
second great disaster to strike the
city. The devastation brought FDR
(left) to Johnstown in August when
he toured the city with Mayor Daniel
Shields. Before flood control projects
could be built, however, debris had to
be cleared from the rivers. The dredge
in the Conemaugh River (right) was
engulfed by one of the "high waters"
which made flood control necessary.
Pennsylvania Heritage • Spring 1982
for many Johnstowners, did the city's tragic history, the
knowledge vanishing like an evaporating pool of water. "I
am post-1936 flood," mused Matt Oreskovich, Deputy
Director of the city's Department of Community Develop-
ment. ..It had been down-played so much that people who
are not native Johnstowners were more aware of Johns-
town's history than I was. I didn't know the Johnstown
flood."
Of course, the Army Corps of Engineers knew that
Johnstown was not truly flood free, regardless of what
Colonel Wilkes had said in 1943. Each project the Corps
builds is designed to carry off the greatest flood of record,
but records in America rarely go back more than three
centuries. Nature always has another trick up its sleeve,
even though it may be slow to deal out the cards.
The Corps recognizes Nature's caprice in what it calls
the "standard project flood," the worst flood imaginable
in any area under the worst combination of prevailing
topography and variable weather. In 1-'l74 the Pittsburgh
District published a booklet on the potential for future
flooding in the Johnstown area. A standard project flood
on the Conemaugh River, the engineers estimated, would
produce a stage of 35.5 feet at the Bethlehem Steel plan t
gauging location, a level several feet above the 1936 record.
The booklet included photographs of familiar Johnstown
buildings, each picture crossed by dotted lines representing
the height a standard flood might attain. About a foot of
water would rush into Bethlehem's Franklin Division
foundry. Things would be worse at City Hall, where a
height of twelve feet was expected. Around the corner
eleven feet lapped at police headquarters, but conditions
were slightly better at the First Methodist Church at the
corner of Vine and Franklin: there, the projected overflow
would reach only seven feet. It is Corps policy to inform
21
(9, p.4)
 ' ..
The flood of 1977 brought to an end the
flood-free dream as demonstrated by scrawled
messageslike this one which appeared around the city.
localities of what a control project can and cannot do. Its
1974 report was not secret. But the Corps itself could not
predict when or if a standard flood might occur and recog-
nized that even the more predictable "hundred-year" flood
could happen any time, even two years in succession. The
people of Johnstown stuck by gospel as handed down in
1943: "Flood troubles are at an end."
On the sultry evening of July 19, 1977, Nature dealt its
cards for the third time in a century within the valley of the
Conemaugh. A line of severe thunder showers advanced
across the crest of the Alleghenies and took up position
oyer Johnstown. Instead of moving on, the freakish storm
stalled above tfle city,.Joosing blinding displays of lightning
and incredible torrents of water. Rain began to fall at about
10 P.M. and continued unceasingly until 4 A.M. the next
morning. The quaintly named creeks-Solomon Run, Sam's
Run, Peggy's Run and the rest-carved new, deeper and
wider beds, smashing through expressways, apartment
houses, factories and homes.
At the Laurel Run reservoir a twelve-inch downpour col-
lapsed the earth-fill dam overlooking Tanneryville, a sub-
urban village just north of Johnstown. Water and debris
pulverized trailers and houses, killing forty-one persons.
From the sky and off the mountainsides water poured
into the length of the channel project. At "The Point,"
where the rivers meet in downtown Johnstown, water
depth rose from one foot to thirty-five feet in ten hours.
Levelssurpassed the Agnes heights, approached, then sur-
passed the 1936 record. The flood control project over-
topped, sending water cascading into the heart of the city.
The flood stood at nine feet at City Hall and six at police
headquarters. At Bethlehem's Franklin Division, four feet
22
played about the machinery, and five feet covered the pews
of the First Methodist Church. The stage at .the Conemaugh
River gauging station reached 9S percent of the Corps' esti-
mated standard project flood.
That night, most of Johnstown had sat before its tele-
vision sets watching the All-Star baseball game. People who
stayed up until after midnight to catch the late news heard
of no untoward weather developments. The local National
Weather Service office had closed at 11 :30 P.M. Neither
city nor county had devised a workable plan to warn of
flash floods or to evacuate threatened areas. Vital com-
munication equipment was either lacking or deficient. At
2:30 A.M. the main city police radio network cut out. Ten
minutes later the Pittsburgh office of the National Weather
Service issued its first flash-flood alert, by that time, cars
were washing down Franklin Street.
Somehow, someone made it through the flood that night
to scrawl an ironic message to his dazed fellow residents on
the weathered side of City Hall: "Johnstown Is Not Flood-
Free!" The ultimate death toll would be seventy-seven,
with eight more persons reported as missing. Damage esti-
mates reached the $300 million mark. The receding waters
left behind a sticky, foul-smelling mass of muck and slime,
which rapidly changed to choking dust a!f it dried in tire
broiling summer sun. The cleanup took months. The Red
Cross, Salvation Army, other private agencies, the state,
the federal government, and ordinary people who wanted
to help rushed supplies and money to Johnstown. Over the
next year Washington spent nearly $200 million in the area,
paying to rebuild damaged facilities and lending funds or
giving grants to' property owners for repairs or new con-
struction.
A sense of shock, even of betrayal, pervaded Johnstown.
What was the good of the flood control project, many
asked, if it could not control floods? The Corps was quick
to point out that much of the damage and death had been
caused by the rampage of the mountain streams, not by the
overtopping of the project. It had not been designed to
prevent all conceivable floods, and the Corps had said so.
The July storm had created a flood of such magnitude that
its like would be seen only once in five hundred years.
Without the project, the water level in Johnstown would
have risen another eleven feet, possibly resulting in J1un·
dreds of millions of dollars in additional damage and a
death toll rivalling that of 1889.
Stunning economic news quickly followed in the wake
of the flood. Eleven days after the disaster, while volunteers
still searched for the dead, Bethlehem Steel, the city's
largest employer, announced a cut of 4,000 employees
from its II,SOD-person labor force. Another 3,500 jobs
stood in peril unless the Environmental Protection Agency
granted a two-year moratorium on pollution standards. The
federal government retreated under such pressure and made
(9, p.5)
 the concession, but Bethlehem stood by plans for large-
scale layoffs and partial curtailment of work. Meanwhile,
several major downtown firms, including the city's largest
department store, closed or relocated in the suburbs. Under
the stimulus of post-flood out-migration, the population
decline accelerated. Over the decade 1970-1980, prelimin-
ary census figures disclosed a 19.4 percent drop from
42,221 inhabitants to 34,221 persons.
.+he flood's psychological reverberations also were dis-
turbing. Children who never before had feared thunder
n~w cowered when the slightest rain began to fall. People
seemed to study the sky more carefully. When the Three
Mile Island nuclear accident took place in the spring of
1979, the editor of the Johnstown Tribune-Democrat com-
mented on the universality of risk, adding that in Johns-
town, "We live with the risk of another flood, another dam
burst." Before July 1977, such thoughts would have been
the last ~m the minds of Joqnstown residents. But their
dream of security, seemingly realized in 1943, had dis-
solved in muck and slime.
For the third time in eighty-eight years, the people re-
built and carried on. A kind of "Battle of Britain" men-
tality settled in among the survivors, a sense that they had
withstood the worst Nature could hurl at them and had
prevailed. And they made a local best-seller of an ironic
memento of the lost dream; a plaque prominently featuring
the hindquarters of a horse pictorially symbolizing the
three-letter word completing the. phrase that was em-
blazoned thergon: "Flood Free Johnstown? My ---..'
No longer in thrall to the flood-free dream, the people of
Johnstown have moved to lessen the danger from the next
flood. The Tri-County Flood Recovery Coordinating Com-
mittee, spearhead of post-1977 reconstruction, has author-
ized a variety of studies to pinpoint weak spots in the area's
protective system and to manage the flood plain more
rigorously. The NWS has enlarged its corps of volunteer
flood watchers around the city and keeps them involved
through regular. meetings. A new transmitter atop Blue
Knob broadcasts the latest weather information directly
into the valley of the Conemaugh. Johnstown now has a
plan of action in event of disaster. a plan that places the
emphasis on floods.
The Corps of Engineers at first believed major repair
work to be necessary in order to rehabilitate the channel
project. Closer examination revealed that underpinning and
repaving along the Little Conemaugh portion. and similar
work in shorter reaches of the other channels, would return
them to pre-July 1977 condition. The Corps discovered,
however. that its public relations image did require rehabili-
tation. While the Engineers never had absolutelyassured
johnstown-or any community for which it builds-of a
guarantee against floods, neither had the Army's construc-
tion branch gone out of its way to stress the limits of river
Pennsylvania Heritage • Spring 1982
'They don't take rain for granted-in Johnstown onymore.::...
Over the last century the people have had to rebuild and
catty on. But first, there is the suffering.
walls. In a follow-up report on the Pittsburgh District's
Johnstown activities, the writer urgently recommended
that "any claims by local governments or agencies that
grossly inflate the protection afforded by Corps projects
should be clearly rebutted ..'
At painful cost, Johnstown has realized that there is no
such thing as flood control. only flood mitigation. Control
projects can lessen the impact of many floods and lengthen
the duration between major disasters. but Nature is always
waiting with a fresh hand to deal. The human players in the
game of flood mitigation can fortify their hands with en-
actment of flood-plain management ordinances or the
strengthening of such laws where they now exist. More
communities must participate in the federal flood insurance
program, available since 1968, which provides considerable
coverage at small expense. Taken together. these measures
have a cost, but it may be less than that for a flood control
project and certainly less than those terrible costs of a killer
flood. If flood-endangered communities across Pennsyl-
vania and America will adopt such a program, Johnstown's
travail over the past century may not have been in vain. •
Alan Clive, who has taught at Northeastern University and
the University o[ Massachusetts/Amherst, received a Ph.D.
in American history from the University of Michigan. He
has completed one book, State of War: Michigan in World
War II (1979), for which he received a Certificate ofMerit
from the AASLH, and is currently researching another on
the great Johnstown floods. The author wishes to acknowl-
edge assistance in his research from the American Phi/a-
sophical Society and the National Endowment for the
Humanities.
23
(9, p.6)
 Biographical Impressions by John Higson Cover

Biograph~yal" Irrpre~sions

Grandfather P.igson,accou~ts:.He heard the Amer~~an Ambassador to England

speak Ln London '!'e slavery and,the 'I~o'i·thl,,~', res~poi1stibility to 'end it~ John
Higson deqid'~-d to" come: help; He,lanred'in;·~hiladelpg~a,.e~li,st~.d j.n the Army,
and .h Ls. r!3gime9t "~as .s ent.. t9'Northern Pa-;:-"n-ear-tne"":NaY. State, border, for -','
training. Grandmot.he"i 'f;' to be r11'v~d- nearbY"s.n'd they,'>·me't,. (I·recall:~ that mem-
bers of her. family (Jaq~ette?) were occasional,lf ,j·:,i~it~~."~yzrannrLother; and,
once I ,,/as LncLuded-e-quite young.) , ' , ,
I think it was at Antietum (sp.?) that he was wounded, shot in the left 8houid~lj
the bullet coursing down and eXiting from his side. After hospitalization he' " .. "
was assigned for a period to a special President1s corps (7) then retired. ,~~~/
He frequently took me for a stroll and chatted, but war-details were out-- '
"war is inSane II • He prbtested against discriminations and inequities in society'.
He-once pointed out the 'rieme of the enginee~rsen-t' by J ohn3tow'n'~~~stigate
the safety of the dam which later wiped Johnstown out; the engineer reported
that it was solid and safe.
Do you recall the account of the Higson's escape? The city waS already in
7 feet of water, and communication wae by boat. Grandfather Higson got the
family to the atticl, and developed an exit to the roof, where they went as the
water rose. The house began to float. It coursed to the Penn RR. Bridge, where
it was jambed among other houses. Granddad led each of the family separately
from roof to roo~ and to the bridge. Then they climbed Westmopt Hill to r~f~ge )
with the Hamilton family, relatives. "'!J.....:~.L f.h';;.~.:'?-, ~ ~,(:)-c.4_~
...-L.' ? f" /rr. ()..., <r-: , / .:/ :/ r
"II
:;;ri.. . .....,.~ ...:::-"cJ
J
Vt--.--I(..? e(}",-v~'- /;;~ C-h. (,.<1-U-{ t':.>t-u.-UJ-~
Father was carried in back-water up the Stonycreek (?)--on the roof of a
liverystable belongong to his brother, William. His parent's house was similarly
carried ups t.r eam in 'backwater. Then he started to hunt for the Higs ons , via
hillsides and to the Hamiltons.

Perhaps I assumed an earlier engagaement from a story of Aunt Kate: Father

had been dating her and sister Carry jointly; 'The "family wondered whom he would
choose. He first proposed to Kate, but she refused. Later l,:other told me that
Kate had reported to her Mother and older sister (~~ry?). Their Mother ordered
them not to tell Carry. So Father asked Cary who accepted after seeking he~
~other's advice; the };other said Charlie was a le9ding young citizen and a 'Catcb'.
Yother was bitter.
William
-Re Grandfather/Cover: As the second son of the family farming on Cover Hill,
he was provided with complete set of clothing and informed that he was on his own.
He got a responsible job at the transfer point in Johnstown l where trafic via
train from Philadelphia _t:ranferre.~ to cana Ls' boats to Pittsburgh (~ vt ce-ve raa ,")
j-k. _/rl'k5':.-·:"'~ .)J"LcJJ1 ~e:~~-0 c:t;
~~ o--u:'k~
,-o~~, '-').'1.-
,
I

(10, pp.1-2)
 ~iographiya}' I~pressions
~ _ • • _. .• I ~.

Grahdfather P.igson,a~cou~~s:~~e heard ,the Amer~~~n Ambassador t ; England

speak iI} ~~rid?n re slavery and, the -I:Jo'rth ~'~' re~pSqs'ib'ility to -end'i t~ John
Rigson de~id'~-d to'-come':'h~lp;·He.larided~in\·~Jrilade.I,p~;a""e~li,st.~_d iIi the Army,
and -~his, r~gi'me'I!t :~as ,sent., to' 'N.o:rthern :pa.:;:-ir~ar.-ine~.Y. State. border, for .: -'
training. Grandmot.he'i'f'to beT11'vEid-near·bi~~l.Iiti theY:llmet.,. ~I,.recall:~that mem-
bers of her. family (Jaq~ette?) were occasiona~lr~!i~~t~~.., ~Y:$ra.ti(Jm()ther,; and. :
once I was LncIud ed-c-quf.t,e young.) , .. - , '.
I think it was at Antietum (sp.?) that he was wounded, shot in the' left' 8houid~i;:.
the bullet coursing down and exiting from his side. After hospitalization be;', _;'.,.~:
was assigned for a period to a special Pr es Ld errt I a corps (r ) then r~tired. .,.~~~)
He frequently took me for a stroll and chatted, but war-details were out~~ .
nw~r is in~ell. He prt~ested against dis~~!E!~~ons and ineq;:'it:i~~..j,n soci~ty'.
He once pointed out the nome of the engineer sent by JOhnstown to investigate
the safety of the dam which later Wiped Jobnstown out; tbe engineer reported
that it was solid and safe. '
Do you recall the acccunt of the Higson's escape? The city was already in
7 feet of water, and communication wae by boat. Grandfather Higson got the
family to the atticl, and developed an exit to the roof~ where they went as the
water rose. The house began to float. It coursed to the Fenn RR. Bridge, where
it was jambed among other houses. Granddad led each of the family separately
from roof to rooll1' and to the bridge. Then they climbed Westmont Hill to refuge )
with the Hamilton family, relatives. ",!~1... /d-c.y~ ~ ~,(t-h.,,-~ d1) ¥~.....v-~o
V:--ft-tJ.. (],{»-,-O~I- ~ Cb. ~17i-{' t':.;:l~-tP-.~ . '. ,.; r:
Father was carried in back-water up the Stonycreek (?)--on the roof of a
liverystable belongong to his brother, William. His parentis house was similarly
carried u;stream in backwater. Then he started to hunt for,the Higsons, via
hillsides and to the Hamiltons.

Perhaps I assumed an earlier engagaement from a atory of Aunt Kate: Father

had been dating her and sister Carry jointly; 'The "family wondered whom he would
choose. He first proposed to Kate, but ahe refused. Later Mother told me that
Kate had reported to her Mother and older sister (~~ry?). Their Mother ordered
them not to tell Carry. So Father asked Cary who accepted after seeking heY
Mother's advice; the Mother said Charlie was a lesding young citizen and a 'Catcb l •
Mother was bitter.
William
-Re Grandfather/Cover: As the second son of the family farming on Cover Hill,
he was provided with complete set of clothing and informed that he was on his own.
He got a responsible job at the transfer point in Johnstown, where trafic via
train from Philadelphia tranferrep to canali boats to Pittsburgh (~ vice-ve~sa:):
1.J.c:. -';1'W't.'",~
-
, .:Jrl'''1 Be?::'.....,
,.!.d
.
c...-P..ft..:... a--u~.<L~
C
...-'.o..f.it uPZ",
!-. "
. .

,
I

(lO,p.2)
 :.,-- ---' ----
• .. _=-~--_._-

~, KATE .HIGSON, 78, ~

:\~,~ VETERAN TEACHER ~,
."\
'~ .HERE;"SUMMONED .-.~,
y Miss Cather ineM. (Kale) Hig~
.t lion, 78, well-kn own. retired' school
\- teacher and a membe r "o!' one of
Johnsto wn's pioneer families , died
r- about 11 o'clock last nigbt at
tbe
r home or ber brothe r-In-Iaw and
slater, Mr. ~ and Mrs. Harry S.
II Given Sr., 183 Orlando Sl· Misa
Higson had made her home with
D Mr. and Mrs. Given since the fiood
o[ 1936.
" The veteran teacher was born
,t on n--. 28, 1864. in Elmil'a, X. Y.,
.s a daughte r of John and Annie E.
4; ;Higson, early settlers in the First
De "Ward. She received h e r schoolin g
nd at Pennsy lvania State College, then
:1)'. began teachin g in 1885 in the
aat Chandle r School, Morrellv ille.
the Hundre ds of local residen ts have·'-
for received their element ary. Instrue-
.nd. tion ounder the directio n or Miss
bile Higson, wh o also taught in the
am- Dibert St. and Somers et St.
for- Schools. She also taught school
rb llc [or a time In a store buildin~
sen- Haynes SL followin g the flood
on
len- or 1889. In the flood her family
lost all possess ions and narrowt y
ole escaped death.
or A .rnern ber o[ the State Teacher ll
Till RetiI'em ent Associa tion, Miss Rig-
Ire son r et h-e d in,..lill. due to ill health.
She was a membe ro! St: Mark'a
Episcop al Church. "
Survivl ng' are a sister, Mrs, Ag-
nes Given, mer.tion ed, and three
nephews -c-Ha rry and John Given
and John Higson Cover-s -and two
T nieces-s- Mar-y (Cover) . Jones, Berk-
eley. Ca l., and Louise Cover, Santa.
Barbara , Cal, • Twn _~~t_eG<.. Mar~
to Higson a.llli Mrs. Charles Cover.
alld Ii- -brother , Alex Hig-son, pre-
ceC:ed her in death.
J:o rrerids may pay their respects
at the Hender son F'une ra l .Home,
Si' where f un e ra.l servlces will be held
ot at 3:30 o'clock Tuesday a Iternocn ,
y, in cha rJ!e of Rl"'. E. L. Re~d. p'1.3-
1- tor of St. Ma r k's Church. Tnt.e r-
n rne nt will be in Grandv iew 'Cema-
n tery,
------- ,:-:--- -,."'".-=-.'- _. -- -
e C"'tA .... T - - - - ·

(11 )
 \
~. ""

,:g-:-JOTINS'I'O\YN, ' P £. ~,~;j;

... ,/

':'$ Pm·tll Years .4[Jci~ ,

_, NOVEl\lCEIL ]8, 1800.:'
--,The merry-go-round which hna been
erected on the Publlc Square pays the
citj' $7 u day tor the use ot the ground.
Enoch Jones, ot "The Elk," Clinton
street, has sold tho -saloon to Horton
& EmUlons, the consideration being
'- $6,000. ,'Mr. JODCS ,tlUnks of returning
..' to'Braddock to live." .,,'
n '1'ho overhead ironbridcre of the
r Cambria Iron company lendin;: to the
" i MUl Coal Mine railroad has been swung
.; and the work at removing' the trestle is
dwell under wny. The bullders o.c this
bridge aro nusners, " '
1': ' A large hose carrIage and a. 600-
\;- pound alarm bell have been ordered
.y fOl' the Mo~ll:l.m Fire Company. Har-
it ness for four horses has also been 01'-
'Us dered and the equipment is expected
.:~,', x':' here shortly. The company wUl hold
.. :. ~le an entertainment on ThanksgivIng Day.
, :1-, One of tlie 'hacks of the Hoffman
Transfer Company, which was -in the
.. ' e- act .or leaving. the residence at John
ne H. Waters on Morris street at 11 o'clock
il- last nigl1t, was struck by an electric
e- car, and 'Upset: The hack WllS pretty
1e badly used up and Elijah Barley, tho
he driver, had a narrow escape from se-
ll'- rio us in iUl'V.
~or U::Charles B, Cover and bride, nee Hig,;
ht, sari, who were' united .in _marriage at
of the home cf the bride's parents on
lld Walnut street at 10 o'clock this morn-
Irs ing by the Rev. J. E. Bold, took their
:ld departure all the 12, o'clock train for
lis Elnlira, N. Y" where they expect to
d..; spend 'about 10, days before returning
,lth to John~~n","; +;.. "o-~~blish +h"l~ homa,
Jgl". Accompanying the. letter to The'
,81 Tribune at MajorJ. Orton Kerbey, U.
in- S. Consul at Para, Brazil, was a bUl
:nElY for 500 refs, whlc~ sounds big but't;
,his worth only' about 23, cents at Uncle
: .; Sam's money. The first impression on
~no~ seeing the Bmzillan 'shinplaster was
am- that we were rich at last and tho new
.ave republic would be hopelesslr embar-
)\Vl1 rassed by its loss. but the" oonsurs ex-
ved planation undeceived us. Alas for nl'"t
va- iinpresstcnst"
me
. inr 'l'ldrtg Years Ago.
--\~ -', • -18; 1000. ,

The Johnstown Tribune

November 18, 1930

( 12)
 Quote fro m" Loo kin g Backward
thr ou! ih the Tri bun e Fil es"
November 1;, 19; 0
Fo rty Ye ars Ago
Nov.: 1;, 1890
i
"The sta nd in the Par k bu
Ch arl es B. Co ver is the onl y ild ing s wh ich Was occ upi ed by
one tha t rem ain s int ac t, all
the oth ers hav ing bee n 'tor n ·
be giv en for the dis cri mi nat dow n. The onl y r eaa on tha t can
his 'pl ace on lea vin g it and ion is tha t 1~. Co ver cle ane d
the wo rke rs na tur all y sel ect
it for keepin~ the ir eff ect s ed
in wh ile at wo rk. /I
.... . .. .. .
( Sin ce the flo od occ urr ed
bU ild ing s set up in the cen in the spr ing of 1889 1 the
tra l par k to accommodate me r-
cr~ nts tem por ari lYI pro
, bab ly ser ved abo ut a ye ar. )
I have a number of cli pp
par ent s, ch ief ly at the tim eing s re our par ent s and gra nd-
of the ir d~athsl but few bea
dat es. r
• • • • • • • • • •

Qu ote fro m "Lo oki ng Backwar-d .'-:-,'. ..e: ~ -e.- !//<.n,f. /g / "I
•• ~ • ) /'- .: ~~ '; ' j.:J ,r)
i
Fo rty Ye ars Ago
Nov. 18, 1890

nC har les B. Oover and bri de,

in ma rria ge at the home of the nee Rig s on, who were un ite d
Str eet at ten o'c loc k thi s mo bri de 's par ent s on Wa lnu t
too k the ir dep art ure on the rni ng by the Rev . J.E . Bo ld,
12'
N.Y. J where the y exp ect t.o spe o'c loc k tra in for Elm ira ,
tur nin g tc Joh nst ow n to est ab nd abo ut ten days bef ore re-
lis h the ir home."

• • • • • • • • • •

(13 )
 \.

~~',',':.;" ..:~"! •'Fif ty Yem·s ..1go. '.

: .... ":., : .... NOV ElUl lER 13, nl:rlved hom e last
1880•.. ., O f two mon ths to
afte r a V!:;iteVC~illg
•. . . relau ves in nllnoL~.
.'TIle deut h reco rd Iowa and !{an sas. Shc also spen t
· ,., . 'tiein ity :for the weekinelidi
Juhn stow n and week with her ~aughteL' Edn a at Ohe r-.
II.
ng yestcl'day lin Colle!re in Ohio
mrm here d 18 victims. Of thes . \
e 11 died ' 'Tlle ladie s of the Fl'ee
()f diph t11e l'ia.. '. Kind erga rten
Poul try was . parti cula .. . .' Association met last evening
riy brisk -in residence of Dr. at the
.. i:: v- mar ket this 'morning. Tul'k John C.S heri dan
eys, chic k-·a r,d asce rtain ed that
~,:'.:,!::.: ens, duck s and gees the amo unt of
, . . a.t good prtces and a large e foun d read y suIe ,mon ey realized at the doll baza r held
t: :"".:·persolls secured num ber
th~ cent er
of last ,Thu rsda y, .Frid ay and
Satu rday
.<, f~.: theu ' Than ksgi ving dinn er., piece ~'."
;.for In G. A. R. Hall .was $550
. . :"
.' ·f:.·,,;.':·...rwo of the loaf'mg cows :~' ,The John stow n Stea m Hea t & Pow
-.
;~ F~:':' .Up the" tota l complement that nIake Com pany has tnrn edo n stea m to such
er
.:s.: " ling er arou nd the Puublic 'of 13 Which of its cust ome rs on
Squa re dur- Fran klin as have :Mai n stree t above
i . , ,: 1ne the late
!fuI l, wint thei r. radi atio n SY5-
~. ~ sprin g mon ths have repoer and early tems . conn ecte d with
the com pany 's
-. ' ,,~he othe r 11 will be alongrted in
for duty . pipes. . Connections have
not yet been
!. c,[ a few day s.', the cour se mad e below Fran klin stree t. No more
.,'. ... \' ,st. John 's Reformed . pipe s will be laid by the·
- ,r·- v dedi cate d Sun day morn
Chu rch will be unti l next .spri
ing, Nov emb
ng, .. . ,,"
com pany
. ,.
·Dr. Theo dore Appel, torn eys 'Syd
:-- c. ;lO, by the Rev. er :Mis n~y Kerr , daug hter .ot. At:',
· " wllo will prea ch the morn ing and Mrs. Ellis G. Kerr , of the
In the ;evening the Rev, W. sermon. Fift h War d, sopr ano sing er in the Firs t
will be insta lled as past or byH.a. Bate s Pres byte rian Chu rch quar tet,w ill leave
:." .mlttee ·,of . the Westmorelan com- on' Mon day for Bost
. and . the Rev. J, W. Love will d Classis in voice cultu re "at on to take a course
the New Eng land
.~, .:tIle eVening serm on.' deliver Conservatory of Music.
She will
'. t j.:. : ,J\. pot- hunt er ". . ' . sent from .the city untu June be ab-
who resides in Adams she will ,' whim
t· Township brou ght a num ber of dres retu rn to, spen d her sum -
~ .iJhe asan ts to town yesterday whic sed mer ) vaca tion .' Miss . ,Ker r· will spen d
h he thre e year s'lit Bos ton, ""
.,
l':; . disp osed of at .the
rate of
apiece. This individual mak es15hunt cent s Jose ph ' John s, ...gr ands on . at
»:
_.... '. .~

.t' for phea sant s, 'rabb its, squirrels ing foun der of John stow n,w as' a calle the
, etc., The TribUlle 'office toda r . at
},:·' ·am atte r of business and y and took oc....
';, -and , in conj unct ion wIth not of spor t easion to corr ect a state men t whic h had
his two. sons, its orig in. a. good
a seas on to has been Inco rpor man y year s' ago and
\.; kills enou gh gam e duri ng
!,' ,,'keep his fami ly for thre ebr four anot her in almo st ated in one form 01'
· :';'. mon ths. . . . . . histo ry of ,rohr every attem pt at, a.
t . .' .' The L3die~' lJ.d Society istown unti l, like man y
I "~' ',' M,. E .. Chu rch Thu rsda of the Firs t othe r .l ..imll ar assertions, It· has come
y evening 'de- to be .acce pted
f'";, .. ~ided to erect a parsonage .on 'the. lot is to,th as' true . ,. The state men t
.. ~:; ·.ow ned by the'c ongr egat e effect that he has cont ende d
c> .. r--", of the thUl'ch at a. cost of abou t
.'j 1",. The rent
lon
paid by the congregation for
juSt sout h that his prog enit or' who
..$3,500. become/so famo us was a. se nam e has
nat~ve of Ger-
-, l >: the tene men t whic h man y. Mr.
Dr. Wat kins occu- cont rary Is John s says that exac tly the
.i,". pies amo unts to $350
a year and this main tain ed true -tha t he has always
t • • savi ng alone would
mee t the 10 annu al born in Swit.tha t his gran dfat her was
; '." insta llme nts of the principa zerla nd ·and he has neve r
· ';lad ies of.th e Aid Society agre l, while the had any reas on to
chan ge that .belief.
I' : sume the responsibility of payi
ed to as-
ng the
'~:"..' " .,._ "--_ ..' . , " " ...,', ....
.\.:: Tw ent y Yea rs Ago~:i\,
':--:0 ' int~ rest•.·. Th~ •..
n.1atte;-. h:l.s
;.;',: ,;de finit e.sh ape. and ther e now ,.ta~en ..::: :i::~:NOVEl\mER .is,: i910; -r :::': ,,'
>:.:'
· .-. ~hat a hand som e parsonag! is no .dou bt/S und ay."
"",,: ' "" ·'.i
k· .t ·built .~t". an e_a~ly date. -:- ! _wm,~be ' ! '
o
->, ..-

-. ~ : ~.'~ 'Ten
.... ~ ·.Yea J-S At/o . ..'..:..
: '.'- -
'. ,;,.
<. Fo rly Yea rs Ag o." .~ - 'i. . " . : . .. NOV Enm ER. 13,'1
'·"u~ 'D W· "M L hlin '920.
:, b~;~s'Of 'Ma~ket '::e t, h~e
L ': 'NO VE! \IBE R'li, '1890. :.: ' d' h "tw
· .. i; "I!~ uiYb odY . think
s'" mon ey'1 5' not Fran ce to visit g~~~ t~
.. ~ scar ce in Jolm stow n let him Mrs McL augh llu's par-
attem pt ents,' who resided in..:the
to colle ct'10 0 miscellaneous war- toril dis-
,'., Word from Ebe nsbu rgSa bills. trict of that republic duri ng the
r --. ',' ~:Sarker 'received 'from Harrisburg this 99 ,% ·A. V. ·1\[r .· and Mrs .' J. D. McClellawar. ~
nd, of
:;~: mor ning his commiss Clin
ion as' Judg e of of twins,ton stree t, anno unce the birth
r···
0"

·the Cou rts of Cam bria County a boy and a girl, on ThuL;sday,
i '•..i : swor n in this after noon and was November 11. ,The boy
l.",,- . . . '.. Gera ld Jam es and thehas belln nallied
The re does n't seem to be that dete girl ' Gera ldine
r min ed effort in the' mat ter Qf side r': Jenn ie. . "" ..'. ' ... --':
r'y" 1mp rove men ts Which was walk . 'Ship ping coal that a few . ; . ' .
weeks ago
;:... \ ,1'act very little mor e'hapromised. In was Belling anyw here from $10 to $14
i"~:tI1l1,li If the ordi nanc e s been done a ·ton toda y was
had neve r pa;;sed mar ket was weak quot ed at $5. . T,he
.. '. CCiunclIs. " ._1 , ·littl e coal bein g of-
" ~ho stan d In .the Park • fere d and not man y buyers appe
arin g.
· .,.J .whlch was occupied by Charles buildings Ono larg e prcidueer said toda y ther c
'. , 13 the only one that rema ins B. Cover was llttle pros pect of coal ,going high~
, the othe rs havi ng been torn dow Inta ct, nil er than $5. ~
only reas on that can' be given n. The Wit h team s well organized ..luid Th e Joh nst ow n Tr ibu ne
for the of cnth usia sm, the full
'. ~~c~~c~~~o~~~~iit~dc~~~r
John stow n Boy
W~~~~~~ ~~o~nr~::;~a;o~:r~j~g~' ~:ir~l~;~
J lJatu rally · selec ted
.,f":,r .:- ~"
it for kccping thei r JOlll1
... ',p, .... _...
~
C. Cosr,-rovn lJ;~d hI.:! str,"..tc~ic
(14 )
~,.'.
 ~:;:. ~.~- ?!'!'~!""""'TI"'II : ~-JF'W'?~:: ::~; •••'••'.... -1 • • • •....- •.• ~ ! Y.JI .,...",
1> .~"", .~. .. '... -. .. on - - - . ,: , ' .. . ••• - "

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'--'

Cover Grocery Store - Carrie Louise Cover (Standing) John Cover (Seated)
Ed Gobin (An employee of Charles Cover in foreground)
Carrie Louise Higson Cover

(16)
 Old Hymns Recalled
0, Lord, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
for shelter from the stormy blasts
And our eternal home
***
My heart looks up to Thee
Thou Lamb of Calvary
Saviour divine
Now hear me as I pray
Wash all my sins away
And let me from this day
Be wholly Thine
***
Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong,
They are weak, but he is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me; Yes, Jesus loves me,
The Bible tells me so!
***
Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love,
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above
***
A Hymn sung at Chautauqua
Oh Joy, Oh Rapture unforeseen
The clouded sky is now serene
The God of Day, The Orb of Love
Has set His ensign high above
The sky is all ablaze

(17)
 A Favorite Christmas Carol
. Recalled from High School Days
Oh Lamuntaum, Oh Tannenbaune!
Uie tren zint dina bletter
(Repeat)
Du grunst rick
Nein ochim
Oh Tannenbaune, Oh Tannenbaune
Uie tren zint dina bletter

***
Two Popular Songs Recalled

Summertime
In the good old summertime
Strolling down the shady lane
With mine
1111 hold your hand
And you'll hold mine
And thats a very good sign
That you'll be my Tootsey Wootsey in
The good old summertime

***
Lovey Mine
Cuddle up a little closer, Lovey Mine
Cuddle up and be my little clinging vine
Like to feel your cheeks so rosy next to mine,
Like to make you comfy cozy,
'Cause I love you, from head to toesy
Lovey Mine!

(18 )
 To Dear Old Johnstown High
.TOIIN H. COVER, Feb., 1909.
, Moderato. P -t--.;'
·I~'EH
,.-11-
- --"-a·---r---<-,...~
-_--f"O- ----<--co-'---- .I- .~ -~.::==Joi..--~-1-J -
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--1- ----.
:v ---·~r::.- .,-'.,-..-. -., .-.---....-fi'- .:.---.,-.-:::- ~---
! ~ ~
I 1. In the shad. ow of the moun-tain, With the stream me • an- d'ring by,
2. From thy cha-pel in the morn . ing Where our Mak- er's help is sought.
3. In ath . Ier- ics as in stud- ies,' Mingles hon - or of thy name,
4. So to thee, our in .. spi • ra .. tion, Lift we . this, .p'ur song of praise,
·
.(§---~
:~ u-.-.-
-.-D--~-~- ~ _~---ft:I-_-
. ~~_!:1=C=i:= ..-tj~·
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""-J
Ris . es glo-rjous Iohns-town High School O'er sur-round-ings tow'r » ing high.
To the end of ev 'ry ses sion Truth and stead- fast- ness
> > are taught.
Which spurs our men to "ic' t'ry And makes thee known to fame.
While to thy most faith ..ful guid· ance We will trust our fu • ture days.
: ~ I
'T.::"'---""'-~"-~-"'-~'-~-_._"'--~"'-"._~~
N)~; ' ) - " - " - -
hI:. ~- -- ~.-t=-t=-I=- ~-
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~~- t - t = = j
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CHORUS.

~- I- =- ~I -==== - , -====
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_.J~E~._G_. g-.-.- ~-2?-~-:~~-~'-~-6~:~
:2.~--;'--i . I_-I~-
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--- _.-"-WI~--

~ l-yl
\ Raise your voic « es, waft ~he ech- oes Thru the val - leys' far a.. way ..
.•. . I
, --g-"--
~~-':'-:j,;
._ _ ..T
tII._""-+=-1Il-
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"t .

~-~ -£3
,r I
.uuestoso•
~~-~~;~~~~~~"---l-
. ~ ~--:::t"'- ~-.--u-.~
. - I- I.n.
~-=~~"_---I_... :=:-i-.---t---I"l_~l-c_=--:J-+_-~l
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n.
r- ""
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[3t=:=R'",JI'"
rJ ~ ~
-11.
'M
t
I· I ~•. -.. r ", I '-"
! .Hoist the black and pale blue ban .. ner,With our prais .. es let it sway.
; _• • -D, - .,,- ~..-.
~.•6... -,.- -fI'.- '.
_. ""'",
I I 1:>
- - " . -""
(I.'11-2::o'---§g'111._'_0._"._'
t . ~ __ i:t._ '-~-;lL_' - " ,.. _~-~.-
... -.o-~-Io;":-lI:- ·--p..-"'-~-f-:--i--~l
---"'---,.--.... ~- 6'--'.-,,'
\::'2- --7-""'- - - - : ; . / - - 1 - - ~-r.,--~.- - --\=--,-1--- -+-....
'_ .9 - . - . - --_.~.- :=:1:_.;;_.-i.o<'=~= --I-t=.= -'?,,=,,~-

Compliments of the JHS Graphic Arts Club

(19 )
 Tell Me .~ere 10 Fancy Bred

In Act III, Seen. II of Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice.

whil. Baasanio 18 making the wiae choice of the leaden caokot,
this eong 18 Dung by a chorus, provided a melody can bo found to
match tho Ruth or.' a poem,

At Johnstown High School WD were r~hear8ing the play. (I had

the part of Antonio). SincD the music WaD not available tho coach
dociaod that we would have to omit the song. I volunt~ored to
COmpOSe the molody. At the r1r6t performance of tho play, thoro
wuo a visitor in the audienco from a travolling S~koupeuri~n trou~~
Ho requosted a copy of thn aongifor h13 groupIe u~." comenting thtl.t
th~ had nov~~ bad appropriato muaic and therefore omitted tho Bon!..
I copied rry v~·r9"i.on for h1fJ. }w!arty yearo.--6atorJ informing 1U';" that T:1'J
ver5ion Wau atill in uno, a 'thank-you l lottor arrived from the group.

I know of no other at~ged uee.

John lie Ccve r

(20, pp.1-2)
 .,. :J:t',.l.l. .1-:".1. ... :h.'~TI.! .~~. 1"nncy .I}z:.(~rp
.sh" kn,fJ Pl':l.r:l"-I-l-,-~n'" }~~r.c,~In.!! l~_ ~~ _V n.n.t c.'!. ~'uCJlc IJy J olin II. Cov'Ir 1 ~1 0

~
lip 9 -
: ~nr
Toll mo, Who 0 10
. ~

fan oy
I

-
brod or
~ .(.r-~~
•

In tho hou r-L or in l.ho

.;"': .
..":.

ho~ be~ i$:-r- -r;.

HJ:'"" got how
,.
'.

~~
diea

t: tho where it liesJLet UB ~r~ 1:ncyl~ knell;!'ll bo-

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B 11. Ding, Dong , D 11.
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 f
Sere~de To A Jeep.

As might be guess ed this aynco p;tcd BOng was writt

1 was 1n Waah lngton on Foder al Govor nmon t.aBsl gnmen te, en for the G.I.a .
ipclu d~ng Lend-
LeaBe r~Bpona1b111ty for forei gn (allie B and neutr als)
cDBo nt1al U~S. mator iale and comm oditie s. But memb ereotrcquir menta for
young trlend a were in the milit ary Bervlc~ and I met othermy famil y and
volve d. So I composed thle jitter y BOng in 1942. e simil arly in-
• I
!.
" SUbs cquen tlf, I went to Bi~rrltz, Franc o, to help organ
ticip ate as a m~mber of the facul ty in tho U.S. A~ Univ ize and par-
which prOvi ded courBOB for Boldl~rB who had been collo goetu orsity Cento r,
wore candi dates tor admis 80n to colle go. In addit ion to denta or who
spon sibil ities, I accep ted a881 ~ont to organ ize aopar my teach ing re-
artls~to ovent a, inclu ding mu91c and drama . One
ato lectu ro~ and
of tho event s was a.gro up
Baequ e teon- agers who dance d and aang nativ o aongn . Thoir of
Bonge , the firat with danci ng, tho secon d a lullab y, brou~final se~f two
for an° encor e. "Tho busqu ee return ed to tho 8tago and atartoht a vocif erous demand
numbers but tho O.I.e roso ohout ingJ Dno, tho lullab y". d tho danc1 nz
home -aickn aao. I felt thoir

John H. Cover

(21, pp.1 -4)

 1
SERENADE TO A JEEp
''Words p.nd 1.!us1c by
Gaily John H. Cover
V ,If..
Voice
~

~
'.

...... -, J. " 1. The.

.~- _B .a, =t=!

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'/p, /I

-6 6-. _-e-____...J
.t-,"

.-- ,
jump - ing
.
jeep danced dorm the road
.
a
.•. '
joll - y
1

-
j1g._

,..,. , ,

~ . -r ~ t
- =t ~
-
.-G_.
-
- -e'" . .)t' ~

1\ .. .. I

. . .
--"-
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A jUt .- try Jap
,
shot at the . air con-

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- "

.
., ..-
-p-
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I
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-_=r-:. 7-
f-
~ 1 "- ,.,
E

, . -6....
:;s -
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.. I -6>-

• . I

di - tioned rig. "So - ~ - rylll sa:1.d the Yanks I

. n

-e_ -p-
"\
f "t ... .i:
,
~,.J
=r -
-C -G- -G
" : .
Coprf"~1h.tJ 1.''fJ, b~ 'J"".kn. .H.CCV~R ,
(21, p.2)
 2

r 1\ , I
.
. I

''''-
· -q-
''We do not need our taiikSj We have a Jo - do
. . "
r..l-.
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~

... CHORUS Tenderly.

,,",' D
. ... J

I .!!.... .-... . ...._....

.
ji - u ' -jit - su : gig."
..-
~

-t Jeep in the
.
...
. ,..
f
r: ~
~

=E _ _ .=E-_ - ~-
~- ~ ~
, n
+~

~'
-6.
- ......
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. ..
/

tro - pics or Jeep in the snow,; She'll climb up the ' 'Fli -gi or down where
....
. Na-zis
v
..
/I-.

.... .. - -t~
.~ ='::± • ~~
:L~::::±
, , r--. , --- I r--, J ! .
. "
T\

-
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~w;~
--
go. And when the war is o -ver , I l l l take Jee-py home, To

.
,

=§:
~.

=f
' I
....
I
,f- ....
·
-.1-
r--.r
.. , "
•
I
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....,
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~
rt

(21, p.3)
 -
,T
rock Ba - by's cra - elle and plOlv up the
-
loam •

I
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-E

.
2 •..The jostlins jeep rocked jazzily along the brinks,
"

A thumbing Jerry shouted, "Take me to the Sphinx".:

'~e're.going to Berlin,
"You're welcome to get,in.
JlCome .riding in the German juju jynx" •

.'
3. The jolting jeep crept jarringly,. the way was steep.
The sky ,was clouded and the gloom of soldiers deep.
;.
A blond came into sight,
,Then everything got bright.
They floated in the gentle, jingling ,jeep.

(21, p.4)
 "
," ',~ ..
~.
I."

...,;.,
;;:.
.

·.

~.:

-.- ...._ .... _ ... . . . . . . . _ . _ . _ ...... _ •• ~ • • • •~.,~ . . . . . .- __ .. 4 ......... _ ..... . . - . . . ' . .• ••• _.- ..

Top Row, left to right: Alice (half sister of Mary), Carrie Louise (Mother
Louise (sister)
Bottom Row, left to right: Charles (father), Mary (c. 10 yr.old)
John (brother)

(22)
 Our :Baby

7e have a little baby,

.'ie a:-o 30 glad and r:;~y.
S~e is our little swcet~e~:-t,
Althou8h she can not play.
I wish t':1.at she could play t~ou.;h,
For we pould have such run,
to have a little sister
;~d lenrn her ho~ to run.

Some hir6d gi13 don I t like to go

;~~srethere is a baby, you kno~,
For they have to "ark so.

Before the Baby was C~iste~ed

~e have a ltttle sister,

"fIer name Ithin~{'s Lo Lud s e ,
218 is a v8ry food one
.\lt~ou&o-1-t the bed she p e e s ,

~ne likes for us to hole her

L"11 not t::; lay her down,
~~tO rry, '~1en she spits,
It flies all ov~r t~e tOd~.
3he is nat ~ike so~e b2bies.
3~s likss to try to talk.
r:..:.t tnf.;:"""o's one t>:'nz t:::st sr;e c an t t co,
An~ th~t t~ing is to ~alk.

tend if you whistle or t a Llc to her

,~!:etlles-c» r:.. :1U lEu':ht, t:·_£.t's t:~e "':,ray f:.):" :er.
~he is our little clock,
But I ·::ish that 31~e cou.l c .,:,·slk.

u.'ri t t cn baby Anna Louise COi.-8r (?-ill)

(23)
 Mary and Siblings

Mary with little sister, Louise

Middle: Mary younger

and lower: Mary older

.
Right: John with little sister Mary

(24)
Hallo Again:
This is a story about Mary Liz and her kid sister, Lu. Now Mary
Liz wasn't her real name. Mary Liz was what her aunt called her and
Mary Liz never liked the name. But when one is young and ones aunt
decides to call you Mary Liz there is nothing you can do about it.
That is part of being young. Young people have problems like grown-
ups do.
Mary Liz had pretty curly hair and people used to say "Where did
you get those pretty cur1s"? They said this even when Lu was around
and Lu had straight hair. Some people said it was "straight as a
poker". Now no 1itt1 e gi r1 wants ha i r "stra i ght as a poker" so Lu was
inclined to be a bit jealous of her sister. But most all sisters, and
brothers too, get jealous of one another sometimes. And then they
have to grow to be very old, real grown up to realize they have been
jealous and how foolish it was.
Mary Liz's aunt taught her to make noodles. They were the very
best of paper-thin noodles. In that long ago mothers made their own
noodles. They didn't go to the store and grab a package off the
shelf. And it was an art to make real thin good noodles. And Mary
Liz's aunt said these were the best and Mary Liz was very smart and
would make a good mother some day. Then when Mary Liz's mother was
sick the aunt dressed Mary Liz up in a nurses dress and cap and had
her picture taken. Mary Liz still has the picture to prove she made a
good nurse.
Poor Lu never seemed to do anything right. One day she borrowed
her sister's favorite doll and took it to a neighbor's to play. The
doll was a very special one. It had a china head and a rag body.
China heads break real easy so Lu should never have borrowed the doll
but she did. She was playing with it on the neighbor friend's steps
when the friend's mother came down the step and put her big foot
kerp1unk on the dolls head. That was the end of the doll. Mary Liz
felt very badly and so did Lu. In fact, Lu still wishes she had never
borrowed her sister's doll. Some times you make mistakes when you are
little that you just never forget.
Mary Liz had another very precious doll that she never p1 ayed
with. Well anyway only on special occasions. It was a big doll that
her grandmother gave her because she was named for her grandmother.
That doesn't make sense to little people but it seems to to big people
so Mary Liz took special care of that doll. She still has it and
keeps it very special away so it won't get broken.

(25, pp.1-2)
 Sometimes the sisters had fights. They slept in the same bed and
Lu's favorite companion was a teddy bear. She loved that bear and it
was a great comfort to her to be able to cuddle up to it. One night
she took it to bed (oh, of course it was a stuffed bear) but Mary Liz
didn't 1ike sleeping with the bear and sharing her bed with it. Mary
Liz said "You can't bring that thing to bed II or something like that
and Lu said "I will too". So the fight was on. Mary Liz grabbed the
teddy to toss it out of the bed and Lu caught hold of it by the head.
Both of them pulled and pulled. They were both real mad and bingo the
head came off the poor bear and Lu held the head in her arms while
Mary Liz had the body. Lu cried and cried until her mother came in
and promised to sew the head back on. She did and Lu still has that
bear too altho it is loosing some of it's stuffing by now. But Mary
Liz felt very babd1y about that too. I wish I knew if Lu ever took
that bear to bed with her again.
Mary Liz and her friends used to have slumber parties up in her
attic. They put mattresses down on the floor and all of her friends
would come to spend the night. Only a little mouse would ever know
what they talked about because they talked very softly. Then in the
mornings they would take their camping outfit and go out to the hills
and have breakfast. That is the best breakfast you can ever eat--out
over a camp fire. One of her friends' name was Winnie. She was her
special friend.
One Christmas Mary Liz got thirteen pounds of candy. Her boy
friends gave them to he~ That is how much they liked he~ Lu was
glad of that because of course she got some of the candy too.
Mary Liz and Lu are very good friends now. They don't fight even
over a teddy bear. Sometimes it takes a lot of growing up not to be
jealous. It doesn't matter if you are fifteen or twenty-six or forty
or sixty when you finally know that your mother and father love all of
their children equally then you are grown up.
Lu has even learned that it doesn't matter if you don't have
curly hair or can't make things like noodles. There are other things
that can make one attractive. But it took her an awfully long time to
grow up.

(25-, p.2)
 ...---.--..- ........ '~_.,

THE BLUE AND BLA CK- Johnstown High School

d

Wedneaday, February 16, 1927

John Cover, the compos er of our degree of Master of Arts from

Colum-
school song? From the time he .acted bia Univers ity, in 1919, after
which he
as drumme r in the first grade, John became an instruct or
in econom ics in
was exceedi ngly interest ed in music. this same universi ty.
In 1923 he was
That interest culmina ted in the writ- Manage r of Service ,
Select Printin g
ing of our alma mater. Then, too, Compan y, as well.
During the next
John was inclined toward literatu re year he held a profess
orship at ~­
and. in his senior year, held the cov- rado College. and
since June, 1923, has
eted position of editor-i n-chief of ihe been Prurcs~Ul ir Statistic
, "Specta tor." These interest.s detract- keting, and Directo r
s and Afar:'
of the Bureau of
I ed not at all from his scholas tic stand- Statistic al Researc h,
I ing, John was always a good student , Denver , School of Comme Univers ity of
rce, Ac-
; faithful and willing to work. Evi- counts and Finance
.
dently, his teachers and classma tes
Mary Cover of the class of 1915 was
highly valued his dependa bility, for he
also a "high Iigl.'" in Johnsto wn. She,
was chosen to serve in many student
too, was editor of the "Specta tor" and
activitie s.
showed her literary ability by winning
After graduat ing from high school,
a short-st ory contest. Mary was a
John attende d Ohio State Univers ity
star in drarnat cs, taking the leading
and Columb ia Univers ity, receivin g
part in a play \fltitled "Arms and the
the degree of Bachelo r of Science ill
Man." She WIS also salutato rian of
1915. During 1915-16, he served as a
her class. ('rigina lity being her
special attache at the Americ an Em-
strong point, instead of giving an ora-
bassy, Vienna, returnin g in the fall of
tion, she delivec d a original poem.
1916 to join the editoria l staff of the
"Iron Age" and the staff of special Upon leaving high school, Mary at-
writers of the "New York Evenin g tended Vassar, after which she became
Post." In 1917 he joined the Depart- an instruct or in Columb ia Univers ity.
ment of Surveys and Exhibit s of the Here she married Dr. Harold E. Jones,
United States Food Admini stration , Assista nt Profess or of Psychol ogy.
Washin gton, D. C. In the followin g At present, she and her husband are
year he returne d to New York City taking up a new project in child re-
and became Directo r of Welfare Pub- search,' in an attempt to solve prob-
licity for the Metrop olitan Life In- lems that hav t long perplex ed scien-

-
surance Compan y. He ~eceived the tists in this field,

(26)
 Phone 539-8731 Johnstown. Pennsylvania 15902
222 Central Avenue

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(27, pp.1-3)

_::!
#' ~' • . • •-
New superintendent takes charge
In the fall of 1984, Dr. Donato
Zucco resigned his former school post-
tion as superin tenden t of Johnstown
School District .
At that lime, Dr. Levi Hollis was
named Interi m Superin tenden t for the
1984-85 school year and then was
elected to the position of superinter,d •
ent this past summe r.
. Dr. Hollis, a native Pennsyl-
vanian, came to Johnstown from War-
ren, Ohio.
Prior to that, he was in New
Kensington, Pennsylvania. Dr. Levi
Hollis joined the Greate r .'ohnstown
SChool District as Directo r of secondary
Education in 1975. Dr. Hollis holds
GrNter JDhnat~wn High School
Vol. VI No.1
_1
.-
J'• . ..
.,'. - he was active in football and wrestlin g.
-, '-
. any ether district . Also, it gives me
degrees from Duquesne Univers ity,
Ohio State Univer sity, and Kent State
Univers ity. He has also done work at
the Univer sity of Pittsbu rgh and St.
Bonaventure Univer sity in New York.
Even though Dr. Hollis's first
choice of profession was ophthomo-
logy, he entered the education field.
Dr. Hollis feels that the Johns-
town School District is a strong com-
munity with great resttlence. He feels
that people here face anvers tty with
strengt h and resolve.
Dr. Hollis has a wife and two
teenage childre n, who he feels are
good citizens as well as being good
students.
Johnsto wn, Pa
Octobe r I 1985
Force behind the Trojans
As a native of Johnstown, Mr.
Davitch attended JHS, where he was
active in football, wrestlin g, and track.
After gradua ting from JHS, Davitch
attended the Univer sity of Arizona ,
majorin g in social studies and minor-
ing in physical education. In COllege,
After receiving his master 's degree
in secondary education from the Uni-
versity of Arizona, Mr. Davitch taught
high school in Tucson, Arizona for
eight years, where he was also dean of
students and football and wrestlin g
coach.
Mr. Davitch was on the staff of
the Air Force Academy for five years
and head football coach at the Univer -
sity of Idaho and Tucson Public
Schools. For the last three years,
Davitch was host of a half hour week
television show in Tucson and did a
radio and television commentary for
Arizona football and basketball.
Mr. Davitch chose to return to
Johnstown for several reasons. "Being
able to work in the Greater Johnstown
SChool District was an attracti on. I
would rather work in this district than
the opportu nity to work with young
kids in coaching ," said Davitch.
Being closer to his tarnily ant1 the
positive environ ment for childre n are
pluses, too.
"I'd like to provide a positive
image of the .Johnstown school district
within the commu nity," said Mr. Dav-
itch in response to the question,
"What do you hope to accomplish as
both head football coach and assistant
administrator?" He feels that bGth
jobs are tied together and that the
district should be showcased .
"We need pride in the commu nity for
JHS, outside and in," he added.
Mr. Davitch hopes to buy into the
positiveness instead of the negative-
ness of the school district , and with
Jerry Davitch on the job this is an
accomplishment that could very well
come true.
(
(27, p.2)

N·of ready for school
After the excitement of summer
has dwindled, th~ beginning of a new
. school year Is In sight for students.
. For some, the mark of a new school
year brings positive thoughts for u-
nique achievements, such as making
the honor roll, joining the basketball
team, or running for class president.
Many students, however, see the
beginning of school as a disappoint-
ment. As one student phrased it, '"
didn't like the thought of ending my
summer 'freedom'. Now I have a
curfew on school nights and I really
see less of my friends."
As August 27 closed in this year,
so did many parents, with special
"ground rules" for their child to
follow. Some of the frequently used
gUidelines consist of a set time limit
on phone calls and television pro-
grams, a particular time to be back at
home in the evenings, and more time
spent on homework and studying.
A large percentage of students
also look forward to participating in
school activities, such as marching
Safef y- ( . -~~-hn ~ver, co~~;;;~' of the JHS
does it meet standards? :;:::I~a;e;11~as graduated from high
It never seems to fail. Every lime
a person goes from class to class, he
has to be quite careful. Too much
congestion in the halls, especially on
the second and third floor wings
exists. As a result, pushing and
struggling take place when .students
try to make class on time.
Slopping at lockers poses many
problems because locker doors may fly
open and hit someone. Also, most
lockers are located directly by a class-
room. A student at his locker may be
blocking the entrance for others to get
through. Consequently, students must
remain in the hallway, making traffic
come to a semi-complete standstill. It
Is understood that locker stops are
necessary during the day; however,
students should keep these stops as
brief 8S possible.
. -~ .... - ....--
f' ". /Do VOU know?
He earned a B.S. in 1915 from
Ohio State University, and an M.A.
and a Ph.D. from Columbia University.
Cover served as a special attache at
the American Embassy in Vienna in
1916.
\ He then joined the staff of the
Iron Age and the New York Evening
Post.
Cover also worked for the United
States Government and was a faculty
member at Colorado College and Uni-
versity of Denver SChool of Commerce.
The yearbook in 1927 was called
The Blue and Black before being
named The Spectator.
Mr. Cover is now residing in
Yellow Spring, Ohio.
~~
JI~_
To Dear Old J"bnalown Hilrb

- .-I-.~
. Jg •• B. CoTa.. ,...... 1 - '

¥'
band, bandfront, cheerleading, athlet-
ics, and extracurricular club activities
,f¥~-t,:
,I L ..
S=:.,:...

1. '~ta,~
10M . . . . . _
jlOll
'"
W
_;=:r,;_.~._.
lbI-.U1...
...,..." H"
-- s.-~-I
W,l ...,.·" .. _ _ • . .
1Io'MU"''''' "4~·.r. betll
.J>
·cn-...,.
. . . . . .bL
ID. 0., - .
.
1. L. .1111 I," .IUll _ 1oC''',"" _ . . .,
&.!I- u-o.. _ .. . ,... Dr-.
like the pep club, FBLA, ski club,and UI .~ ~ Loll - . _...... -.. _ . '"

ushers' club. JOining with others 10 form I

\inn this school year bevan, JHS MUir 1Choot.
welcor. :I still another new treshrren

I[
class, consisting of approximately 400 PT:-?li;=:~: -~;;~~~
students. Along with the familiar first , b -..
To UIII
• .., ..... JotI"'
.... of ••
1_"
I'T
H,," s,.-,,_ 0., ... '
~. . ":"rv,Il.IWI.
nNM '''I' ,._ r
(u.- _
I" b.. b.
an •...'"L

day jitters, the freshmen class had to andllng the problem. which W'll.>dI . - ...,
W'k."uo II., _
1ft .....

, .. U,
III
h.J
1':"1
uc
I\01IlI
,..,.
,/On ...
o\1l4
.,11 ,"'.
m U...... _ _
hI
.. IUD&.
ttl" •• ,L
.rIM throughout our 1I¥ee.
Dol'

face a new school, with a whole new

~.~:~:-1t1~~~£i~i2~}~~=;.'1=E~~1
student body, not to mention becoming
the "youngest" class-status wise.
As the year progresses,students
are sure to feel more relaxed and at
ease with the high school. It is only
8 ",;,,,,,"11 ............ ,....
the p"u~·ICho"ra, ...
j
I ~E.~~~=~~==~~-- ~~~~=£.~~~§
WE?~~\~"' ~==-;F ::f;;~-;-:~;~!: =:~;3~i'J
I a.._r-_ ... _aJl tAoI . :•• _ i"hnlChl .. ,I lryl IN a _U._
worthy from theMtrthlela,
natural for the first few weeks of
school to be chaotic, but look on the
end the deI.mlned from the I
undetermined. i
bright side - things can only get
better. \
I
,
j
\
~~... -:-I... ~r ~ .-:-~ .. •• ....: - . . - -

Ed.i1ar: Ann Marie Cynar

WE ARE DETERMINED TO PRESENT
THE NEWS OF JHS ACCURATELY AND
CONSISTENTLY; TO BE INTERESTED IN
THE STUDENTS AND TEACHERS; AND
TO ESTABLISH LOYALTY TO PROMOTE
SCHOOL ACTIVITIES; AND TO UPHOLD
Business Manager: Tracy Raymond
Ad Editor: Teri Ozog
Reporter" $: Ann Marie Cynar, Tracy
Raymond, Barb 8elders,Greg Msc.;J-
her, Daniele Pellow, Karen Locher, I
Sherry Skidmore, Ramona Morris, I
David Orosz, Stephen Zungali, Hea- Ii
ther York, Stacie Sobecky, Kell yOU nn ..
~: Karen Locher, Denise Silka,
WE ARE AN EQUAL
Tracy Raymond, Ann Marie Cynar, 1'1'

Stacie Sobecky
THE TRADITIONS. AND IDEALS OF JHS. OPPORTUNITY 1::::fead.J..in: Dave Orosz, Mike Kinsey.
SCHOOLf EMPLOYER Greg Meagher !
.ebQtograDb~: Liz ¥cLaughlin I
Graphics: tephanle Owens, Pam
Petak

(", _-:>\
 . , ~ , '. " ., ,."

.- ........
~--""1.

• .... SSQ srl"'G1'1eth1llS Vlie.22:

I"""" ." . • • • , •• ",'

(28, pp.1-3)
(28, p.2)
Winifred with her extended family

Thanksgiving 1985

(28, p.3)
 MRS. MARYS~'iJO Vtilts
., ;~7r~ ~~N,~~V.E~~~YI
'-~;t~-;'-.:~ ::-:-~-';-. i-. ~ .... -'~-" -.~z,:'!""'~'''.~~ ~i,~-~ .,.::.it~'.';.'-"';..'
)ne.· of JohnstOwn'8 .Dldest'Resi~
ftents W~s'Bor~ in :M:artin$burg:'"
t T.hia' State;'.:dn . July~ ~~828 :c:
Mrs. -Mary Sa.ylor C;:over;:wldow of "
iymla.m Cover and.·.a': da,ughter
.- . . '. of....,

The Johnstown Tribune

c. .June, HH5

'Mrs. Mary Saylor Covel". ,e,

.... l ' _

/P'anddaug-hter. ·ma.ke their home, .Aln..\

Charles' B. Hemm•. 'lit W~';;l'he. bear,
Philadelphia, arrtved In' .Tohnlitown·~ ,
TueRday evening to remain tor the dln-":
ner -and Mr.' Hamm, who.vhaa-been-tn:
Pittsburg since Tuesday nlght,.,.tll
peeted to arrive this evening.. -, Mrs.;
ex.. :,
Cover' was born July 2, 1828. In Mar-.'
tfnsburg, Blair Count)', and came. to;
Johnstown with' her .parants, Mr., aha! Mary's Summer Work - 1915
Mrs. George Saylor, whenshewB.s 8;;
mere child.'-· Her husband, ..·..the· la.t8 ':
William Cover•. sr., was Identltled with' Counselling with Mulberry Street
one of the oldest' tamll1e~' hi thlsvl':,{
cinttv, and her father wail;;:rostmamer· ' .
ot this cltyi.more than 60 years' agO;g .
Settlement House Camp in'the
Mrs. Hamm Is the onll'da.ughter, .Of' ' Adirondac~ Mountains for a group
Mrs. 'CoYer and Charles B. Cover,' ot 1 of girls from New York City
·the Soltth Side, Is her only son.' ,The 1
late ",,'iIllam C. 'Cover, the well known't
liverymen, was . also a .on . of Mrs.']
M:ary Cover. His death occurred here;
i(!e", years ago. Mrs. Cover hll.ll ntne ] ,
g r a n dc.: hfldren, InCIUi'fI.ng Jolin .,Rlgso1l.r"!'
Cover, son of Mr. and Mrs. Charles C.T
Cove~,'who recently arrived In Vlen'no.; ;
r Austria, -to a\:cept'R position :in the 4
. United Statos . 1 ass " .
his sister fSS fary: E. Cover, Who
was ('cent)y graduated' from' "the
.TohnstoVl'n High School, left T\Jesday i d

night tor the Adirondacks to' remain '

for a month or sowlth a Csettlement
arlY frQm New York Cft' rs.
,10 as'~. a, 0 I S urg, wlre.of~
, the retired P. R. R. official, is a. niece; ,
~t ,~~rs..Ma.~Y,,~aYI~ri;o~~r.~~~

(29 )
-H igh Sc ho ol Era

(30 )
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1. Overture "Traumerei" Orchestra <I. Chorus "Carmena" H. Lane Wilsall

2. A Farce James /IfatUSIJII TValters • ,1Ii"..
/.11 III :~r
Ua W,;s6trt
M orgarel Ros«
Guss!« aalli/iclier
"LUND MB FIVn SHILLINGS" IIIa6d S,,,iclur Ruth Tredcllllirk
. Beotrlcr COllrlney Grrtrnd« ....·all/ord
CAST Cill/lllri"t IJIIlcMson !II ildred Smith
M~. Golightly, • • • • I/arry G. Reu 11elen 11-/ "ytrs Florenc« FIiItOIl
In lovo wllh Mn. MoJor I'hobbl
l l ase] Fillion Anna Williams
EI,allor III itch ell Sara SllIlJmll1l
Captain Phobbs • FrlHicis T. Broderid H'/,Il Hohman
Captain Spruce ElItrtll Wtllur6u

Moreland, an artist Jamls D. Ltlllis 5. A Farce By John Kendrick Bangs

"A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIElS"
Sam, a waiter • Chari" Bird
CAST
Mrs. Major Phobbs MilS Kalliarill' Gloclt Rohert Yardsle y} luitlln lor the hlod Cyril Smith
Jock Barlow 01 Mill Aodrewl { Charles Kress
Mr•• Captain Phobbe • Miss Mary E COlIer
Dorothy Andrew. • muohloved Jane Tredennick
youo.lady
Ladiea and Gentlemen
Jennie, a housemaid Eunice Driscoll

Time-Present Hicks, a coachman who doce not appear

TIM\!.- Wed/us day u/lertlooll, lalt in Oclo!Jtr
Plaee-A ream adjoining th« !Jail room al a IIaltl. A
PLACE-FasMono!Jlt New York araJDing room
,......, Enf.Jish Assin Dall in /lrogress.
W 6. Conventional Dates
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Orchestra
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THIRTY.THIRD ANNUAL "

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JOHNSTOWN HIGH SCHOOL

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Music. Ooerture-sOueen of Autumn Orchestra Original Poem. A Pixie's Laue Mam Elizabeth Caller
Dilllle

Music. Polonaise in A Major Mcibel Florence Speicher

Invocation. Reo, J. S. Fulton Chopin

S"lut"tory. l'h!lsiclIl 'fmin/n!l and Natlonu! Dekmse Oration, Aduertlslnq-clts h·((l!cl.~ Nil/ph IlI'nrl/ Coleman
Willimn 'J'I/(J11Il/.~ 1.lm!1

Valcdictory. Llqhls on the Rotul Virginia Whi/nl!!I Lewis

Story. The Gooseherd Winifred Louise Krebs
Suderman Mu~ic. Patrol-s-American Orchestra
Menchum

Piano Solo, X Scharuienka's Polish Dance A. Duncan Bruce

I'rcscnlation of Diplomas D. M. S. McFeaters
Oralion. Ruling Instinct Ruby Pearl Burkhart rice P"'5/1/1!nl ot the Buunl of EIIII.:ali"n

Oration" The Laue Motiue In the Aeneid Viola, Nellie Mosholder Benediction Reu. J, S. Fulton

Music, High Jinks Orchestra

1 Music. Exit. March -GipPs/l/llc1 Or....heslra
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V-l Oration. Science and Inclustry Sanford Cable
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I'IANO I\INIlI.Y I.ClAN~;1I \lY 1'1IIlt:1I mUI:l.

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or Oclo B. Anltcny
George Henry Beclter
I.lllie Beerman
Lee Qrlfllth Benford
I\:'llhel'lno NerIne Maley
Gern ldlne FrancIs :Mllrtln
I.u Mel1lnger
Helen .Tune Menoher
1 Chnrles E. Bird
Francia Beaumont Broderlcle
Helen OI~a Meyers
Ruth E, Miller
Eleanor Martha lIf1tchell
A. Duncan Bruce
U Hobert I., W. llrunner
Cllcnnn.veo Bucher-
'Anna KnthllJ'lne MoelIer
Mary J'ldlth MOrlllcu.
Palll Otto BUJ'rgrrtf Huth Bo)'eo MOl"r11l
11 llllby Pearl Burlthnrt "10111 Nollie Mosholder
W. S:mfol',l Cable l\Inl'Y Kat h leen Mozgo
l~l!lth E. MUl'phy
6 Albert Ca.ll et
Lawrence 'V, S. Campbell
Harn h Hannah Canan
Rose lit. lIIUlllInto
Hernard .T. McClosl(oy ,
_ Itul nh Hellry Coleman Or landc E. McCrear)'
.r, N:lrl Coolt Mru-lon .T. McMulIell
of J~. I ..e roy Cool(
Marl;'aret Irene Coolt
Hen.!t'lce Rebecca Courtney
Oscar I"loyd Nnuglo
,1essle Ober
Hllth O'Connol'
_ 1\InI'y l'lllzaheth Cover Curt la P. Pneaalce
Ill"'l 1\11\ x well Cl'a II:' J~llnn J. l'a~o
1 Byron l:mHm'
011\'0 (1I,..I,'n,le Cnsler
_ flal"olln Nllzallelh Pnl ntcr
1ITIlIlI'II,0 Dn n lal Peru-mnn
.I·t l>llVIH l1ol'ulhY 1'ell"lItlll
9 1'''IUI't'Ul'r.
I'hlrah Nllzllhelh Del·'rehn
uutn nllll1Jlsey
Mnr thn ,T. Poole
Robert Hill Ith P(wlor, JI'.
1 :'ial':l Genevlevo Dimond
/':I11'l1:l lIf, 1Iol111m
)l'lvll1 Gn rr-tsou Prtce
(,Imrlo:< Iloherls 1!115
lIal'l"~' 1\1, lU'l!w Mal'y 1-,o,,11<1l Hohillon-
.5 1';11111<:" J 11'I~H:oll
Wnrrcu Cly,le Dunmyer
"'llInl',1 Jo1I1~I ...II:1('h
M"r~"I'el ]tOOl!
l1any I1col"l-:e )loHe
lila 1'~:lI"ct Ilol<o
II II~O ].', x, J':",III1:llll1 ,Iuhll AII('" Jtoxhun
]'~dna M. Io'onl1ellor Ihls"clJ Cllno Jtoshun
],'lorOllce 1,. ]·'ulloll .1aOleH Ilohort Hullel1~e
Hazel L. l~ullon A lice Ger tr-ud e Sanforll
Alice C, Galbraith Helen D. schentcemcvcr
Leah Esthel' Gilbert John C, Seh'nll!
.Katharlne F'rcdu Gloele Helene D. Sehry
Belin. Glosser Hobort J. Sl'1u'y Nun\quan\ finf.!t'n facicns, 5crnllcr ineilJiens
Donald Gocher r';mellne Shaver
James A. Sloan, Jr. I
Gussie Gotldlener i
CIa)' D, Harshberger l~, C)'rll Smith I
Nan Haynes Mildred .Tune Smllh i,
Jtnth .1 une IJorrnlllll Ram ,1. Smith I,
l Inlnn Ilcrlr,..ln J1ohll1l1l1l1 IIlahel I"lIl1'(,IICO HI",I"h.,,· i
(:al'l Wallm' Hohuqulat J allies Haroltl Slll'"I~('''
1ITargllrel Hara Hurntuel F'Iornnce Gl"c~g Stnllel'
CatherIne Cruwf'orrl Hutchison COl'1 R Rlol\e ':

Helen Marie James Hornee CliffOrd Strolll)

Sara Jane St utzmnn -,
Marlha l;:thel James
Frederlclt r., ,Toder
F'rn nlc C, ,Tordan
Cn r! M, T,nllll
Esther MarIe Teeter
-.Tane T"el1ennlel(
Tluth 'l'I'el1ellnlell
.
1.

1\1:II'I:llI Vel'onle:l Kllylol' Ma rlon 'J'renl

l\larlu 1,1. Keene Llldwl~ Conrad Tl"oll!!
l'cllrl llel.'!! Kulf....· BO)'ll G. 'VI,lheel(
1·"'lIl1lt Kul lcr Palll R. 'Vnlltel'
I ..u la fi I'IH~H ](ol1ucy )(Illhl'yn 1'. wnuer
,....... nlll h 1,0111:<0 KUUIII?, Mary Heleno Weave.'
w 4\Vllllfl'I'11 Loutse )(l'ObH Idll E. 'VeIHbet'!,:"
w C~ha1"lm·« (Ic~OI·I.rO J(I"CHH Millon l';vCl'olt 'Velhel'beu
.Jamel! D, 1.ewlH Anna L, Wllllllms
Virginia Whitney Lewis
Charles S, Long GenevIeve G. Witt
'"d WlIlIam Thomas Long :Magdalene .Yoder
Margnret Ceeelln Mahaffey Eugenia l~. Zimmerman
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The Johnstown Tribune
c. May 28, 1915

(34)
 Vassar Alma Mater*

Gaudeamus eqitier
Jumenes diem sumus
(Repeat)
Post ucundane juventutem
Post molestam

(Translation)
Therefore rejoice! We are young
After childhood comes youth
After adulthood, old age
The the ground gets us

(as M.C.J. recalls it)

* The Latin has been rendered by M.C.J. from memory. She pointed out
that she never had to write it, only sing it.

(35, pp.1-2)
 I

Oh, we never used to bathe

ITi1 we heard the doctor rave,
But the lectures that she gave
How to behave!
Now we take our daily bath,
Even if we miss our math.
Chorus
How in the world did you know that?
She told us so!

II
Oh, we never jUdged at all,
For each Junior we would fall
Spread affection at their call
Over -them all
Now, we keep our heart well wrapped,
Cotton batting Iround them packed!
(Repeat chorus)

III
Now we grow older
We will grow bolder
Turn a cold shoulder
Neier to enfold her
We will keep our heart a prize
For the right man who applies
(Repeat chorus)

(35, p.2)
 May 20, 1979'

Dear Elinor:
Week-end arter next 'I shall be thinking or my reuning
were
1919 c Las smaye s and wishing I .:w'Ef wi th you. I shall especially
remember witn appreciation those or you who~ave served the class so
generously over the years - you, Weary Watkins, E~eanor Kelty just
:.B~d
to mention a rew. Being a Vassar graduate'~~~many doors ror me,
beginning with my going on to Graduate study at Columbia. I entered a
rield eminently suitable or women - Developmental Psychology - and
have been working away at it - more or less- ever since. More, after
the children were on their own, less now that I am Emeritedl
I still participate in Research with the Study Group whom I have
known for nearly 50 years. The Institute of Human Development which
Harold and I joined at it's rounding, and which Harold Directed ror manp
years celebrated it's 50th anniversary last year. That was a busy and~~
rewarding time ror me! I still talk (and listen) at meetings, this
year at Toronto, San Fransisco, Los Angeles.f'LoiS Warner Maier meet me at
the Los Angeles Meeting and drove me home to her house were we had a
wonderrul visit. We still appreciate and enjoy each other very much.
This letter promped me to phone her. It was the nicest reunion we
could have, next to coming to join all of you o Lois is a Counselor
at the Southern California Counseling Center , a second career, in a
.way, which she does as excellpntly as she does every thing 0 My
friends at the meeting which I was attending were charmed by herJ

(36, pp.1-2)
 2
I look rorward to renewing my rriendship with
Libby Kellam DeForest when I visit my daughter in Santa Barbara.
There has been a r-esur-gance or interest in the work or John B.
Watson~ Rosalie Rayner's husband, and of their mutual experiments
with young children. Rosalie introduced me to John when I was at
Columbia and he very gemerously supervised some or my work.
Just this week, an Historian wrote me asking ir I had a picture or
Rosalie. I zeroxed a copy rrom our Vassarian and sant it on.
"?
Weren't we ant earnest looking group. Rosalie was so vital~and

that doe sn] t come" through~ tL. (ft~J 7ct£ .

Well, Elinor, I just had to do this reminiscing in lieu or
being with you. I hope reading it won't be a bOEe and a burden.
As a class .correspondeD/t, you may surrer, but it needn't go any
rurther. wishes
My best~d arrection to all,

2683 Shasta Road

Berkeley Ca. 94708

(36, p.2)
 THE OLD HEATH HOUSE
30 HEATH STREET
BROOKLINE, MASSACHUSETTS
02146

Dear 1iElry

It was delightful to get Y01,1r letter. The last

time I sari you TYaS when I r&n into you on the Times Square
shuttle about 1920. There was only time for you to snatch
off your hat and say "I've just cut my hair I " before you
sped north~ard and I headed for the Village.

The reason I have taken so long to answer your

letter 1s that I have spent three of the last ten months
in 117GH, because of en ailing heart and thriving diabetes.
A great bore, but hopefully this time under control.

Don't you renember hop hard you worked in that

election of 19l7? You were treasurer of the Vassar SUf-
frage Club, but your activities were not limited to that
office. The suffrage amendment to the nel7 York stu te
Constitution was on the ballot that fall. 17e canvassed
house to house in tOTIn, sent out quantities of literature,
distributed more of the sarne as well as buttons on street
corners, maue speeches, wrote letters ana, finally on
elect~6n dey, watched at the polls, all in collaboration .
with the suffrage organization in tOiiIl. TIe even furnished
their headque..rters, at least partly, from the colle~e ex-
change. TIhen it ,,"as all over, though the amendment had
lost in Dutchess County, it had. carried the cit:y of Pough-
keepsie ~ siA~een incredible votes. Fbr which the Vassar
Suffrage Club v:e.s given most .of the cred.itl

The New York victory had one gratifying effect

on the national situation. The congressman from Poughkeep-
sie for many years had been t~. EdmunL1 Platt, a very con-
servative gentleman. He had opposed votes for women for
years on end. Norl, thanks to those marvelous si:d,eenvotes
right in his own bailiwick, he saw the hendriTiting on the

(37, pp.1-8)
wall. Then the SUs<m B• .Anthony Amendnent to the U. S.
Constitution came to a vote in the House of Representa-
tives the following !Je.nuu-y, it -..:as passed by one vote:
Ii!r. Platt had changed his mind! Of course other repre-
sentatives had e.Lso switched their votes--about thirty
as I recc.ll--and each could claim that it i7aS his "yea"
that put the amendment over in that Congress. (It had all
to be done over in the next one, because the Senate did
not cooperate.) But \'1e were pretty cocky about it.

We spent the re st of the academi.c yeer studying

the New York state Woman SUffrage Pa.rty, with a vier. to
sending out workers to non-suffrage States and campaizn-
in~ for the Federal amendment. l.W memory is vague as to
just ho~ ue proposed to carry out these objectives, but
we did have plans.

During those flu years I was so busy just trJring

to sta.Jr alive that I lost touch vdth the campus , Non,
alas, no one z-enember-s anything about what happened there.
JSter more or le~s diligent research, I can report o~r
that both the SUffrage Club and the Socialist Club.seem to
have gone into abeyance for the duration. HO'rTever, several
students, some acconpanied by their feminist mothers, as in
the case of Liiriam Beard, 'ilent to New York and/or 'P.aGhing-
ton to march in parades. And that was it.

In the fall of 1919 an effort was made to revive

the club to pro.. ."ic1e IJ:dy-Voter type training for the newly
enfranchised citi:iiens on the campus, but the effori;. didn't
get very fer. It is interesting to note that the president
that year, Nata.1~e Colfe1t, 121, who had spent her freshman
and scphcnor-e yeers at Radcliffe, has been active in the
League of i70men Voters ever since, serving on the national
board as nell as in Ct..lifornia and Oregon. Perhaps you
knO-'-' her-Urs. i.arren Hall, of :pendleton, Ore.

The Socialist Club, which was also revived c.fter

the v:-ar, seems to have lasted somsrzhab lonr;e:r, thOUGh I
did not run it do~. I am interested that you ask about
it. I was secretEry of it one yeer. The triO clubs were

(37, p.2)
 -)... ...
./
THE OLD HEATH HOUSE
30 HEATH STREET
:BROOKLINE, MAsSACHUSETTS
02146

started at the S6.IIle time-the middle of my freshmen year-

and by many of the same people.

You must have been a freshman in the fall of 1915

when Vassarls Fiftieth i7as celebrated. TIhile you end other
under'gr-aduat.es wer-e parading around in ',hite sldrts and
shoes and v-~i-colored sTIeat~rs, the uniform of ~~oDe days,
("They are too beautiful for i7ordsJ" said Eiss ljaclCE.ye, who
vms directing the pageant ) , quite a h<:..ssle was goine on.
It ste..rted TIhe:1 Eleanor 17eed l s nother, 196, requested the
club to get perral.ssd.on from r.:i.ss Palmer to hold a suffrage
meeting on canpus at an hour that would not interfere with
the official pr-ogram, Then President llacCracken forbade
the zaeeting after r::iss Palmer had given her consent end ITS.
r.'eod bed put up her posters, that indomitable ladjr quickly
transferred it to the street in front of the Col~~ood
Opera House in to\m, where a Vassar play connected \':i th
the Fiftieth was on the boards. Inez r.:ilholle.rul, 109,
stood up in an open car and addressed the assembled throng
on "democracy". A 'I1orking man in the cr-owd told her she
i1'6.S "saucy" but there 'lE.S no disorder. OverniGht the
goings-on at Vassar got nationrdde publicity.

Though he Vias perfectly a..ue of the actual facts,

racCracl:en chose to tell the papers that the campus meeting
had been staged without permission by som~ "over-enthusiastic
students". 'Fe l1ere outraged by \'/lw.t "le were wont to call his
"aI!1bivalence" • He v:as forever sayi.nc that he was "a. suffra-
gist himself" but recarded the issue as one of education end
did not think it should be br-ought, into polltics. In this
instance, the club, TIhich had had nothing to do rlth the
affair except trnnsrnit, as a matter of courtes,y, a re~u9st
from a distinguished alumna to I~sc ~1J:lsr, tried very
politely to tell him nha t had really occurred, but the
letter TIas i~ored. I ~~ reminded of it fron tine to tine
as I watch the kids today and listen to their cOL1;.1£.ints.

(37, p.3)
 -"f-
The:.t ..as not the only excf t.emerrt our first yee:r.
As you may recall" th8 Hen York sta.ts: amcndnenb was on t2'le
ballot that year too, but was def'errt.ed , The club did a
certain amount of electioneering, but we were too inexperi-
enced to be very effective.

VII's. r;eed, Inez end otner procinent elme

belonged to the suffragette group that later became the
TIo~.an' s Party as o;'posecl to the suffragist I~s. Catt and
Dr. Sha.. whose N.J....T7.E.~.A. was to come down in history as
the National League of 170men Voters. So fa as I ever
kner:, our club was never eobroiled in their dissension"
or knevr verf IUUch about them. I ..ras made e:m:'.re of them
when Dr. T., who was a delegate to the meeting of tho
Woman's Party in T-l::.shington the week before th..~ N.A.W.s.A.
convention that I attGn~ed (as president of the VaseaI'
Club) in Dece~ber 1817, ~a.s refused admission to ours.
She asked me to a)r,oint her ~T E:.lt':rnate, which, of course,
I had no authority to do. I did, however, r-~ngle a seat
for h~r in the g~llerJr, i~th nhich she r;as satisfied.

As I may 11£.:\"e told you on the telephone, it was

for the Schlesinrrer I.:emorial Librc.ry at P.ndclif:fe" which
is dedicated to tIle plece of ~omen in ~ncrican history,
that I have been digging out the at.cry of the VaS5U' club.
To celsbrate the 50th enniversary of the passage of the
woman-suffrage a@en~ent, the Librury began to collect the
reciniscences of lithe pioneers" Y.'hile they wer-e still
avad.Lab'Le , Iillo'7ing thc.t I had been a charter member of
the Vassar Suffrage Club and that ~rtruc.e Folks anc, Eleanor
Tc:.ylor, th'3 origine.l o:ff'icers, were no longer living, they
asked me for an account of it.

You ask ho';;" I hc:.ppen to end up in Boston. It is my

~.rv[·.rd husband t shone to\:n end I have roots here mys8lf.
~Jter practicing larr for a few years he g~vo i t up to devote
h.imse Lf to volunte.ry public work, This took him eventu<::.lly
to l7ashington, rrher'e I was huldling public relationE for the
U.:::'. Food and Drug Adrllnistration. I had been toilinG in the
!.;c.dison .Avenue nney£.rd, not too contentedly, "..hen I joined

(37, p.4)
 -5"-
THE OLD HEATH HOUSE
30 HEATH STREET
BROOKLINE, MAsSACHUSETTS
02146

the Tugvell fight for a revision of the old ~iley pure food
law. It tool: longer then I had expect-ed and I was hr.PIJY to
retire in 1942.

fq husband had gone to irc:.I' rl th the Canadian Arrrry.

(The Canadians did not require him to give up his American
citizenship as did the British.) When we entered the war,
he transferred to our army. He went through the fihole buf'i-
ness-.Africa, Sicily, salerno, .An~io, Marseilles, and had got
half"i7ay to Germany when someone waked up to the fact that
the A:rmy had an authentic e.."'q)ert on government 'Wasting his
tiDe shooting off guns, and he was transferred forthI'dth to
mili tary government.

While he I'1B.S thus occupied, I was lobbying with the

foomen's Joint Congressional Corr~ttee, the legislative arm
of about twenty national women's organizations, and up to
my ears in the Consumers AdvL:ory COI.'Iiilittee of the O. P. A.
and in Food for Freedom--all volunteer.

When He.rI"'J finall;r came home on leave in the spring

of· 1945, he mustered out to go on a semi-diplooatic mission
to India. This time he took me with him. Though Vie had
planned to be there only a short time, he was persuaded to
stay on as acting head of UNRTJIA. Gandhi and Nehru, whom we
were to know later, were still in joil and the British Raj
was all powerful. As 'ITe sailed for home two years later,
the British were turning over authority to the Indi8.D.S. I
have vivid memories of attending the Constitutional Assenbly
sessions at which the Indians were working out details of
their future goverhment and Bill Johnston's classes for the
Founding Fathers on the American Federa.l and state consti-
tutions. (He wa.s in India as head of the U.S.I.S, on leave
from his job as professor of political science at George
llashington University.) I was later interested to observe
the.t the Indians had modelled their national constitution

(37, p.5)
 -l.-
after the Britisb J while their provincial set-ups were ver,y
much like our states.

Since our return ue have busied ourselves with

world government, planned parenthood J ecology and local
politics. For a few years I was occupied with the Atty-
Gan's Advisory Consnner Council (..te put throu;;h the first
statutory consumer council in the country),...hile my
husband ,;;,as becoming more and more absorbed in population
problems. Right n077 he is legislative chairrnu.n of Zero
Population Growth for Massachusetts.

It was 54 years azo Lincoln's Birthday that I was

dining with you in Lathrop. We were just beginning to bundle
up to go to chapel when you or Lois noticed a sudden glon:
"1Lin 's on fire!" The fire captcin of Main forgot all about
chapel and raced across a very sno\'!y campus in high-he~led
bronze slippers (whatever became of bronze slippers?) to
spend the rest of the evening CaIT.ring records from Prexy's
office to his house J paucine nou and again to telephone
neusy tidbits to tile Poughkeepsie Star or the NeTI York
Tribune, as en ever-E.ctive member of the Press Bocrd. Then
th -3 exc i, te:oent was over, I came back r.i th you to stey until
I.lain rras hcbitable again. You ..ere a model hostess.

J'ust before this last Christmas I saw an old 17£.5h-

ington friend whose father, Professor Josiah P~chnrdson,
taught classics at your university for at least a. millenium.
TilleI'. I asked her if She kne" you J she seized the conversa-
tional ball and ran "I'dth ;i.t :

"OhJ that wonderful woman! Bruce, 'I1!'J brother's

boy J had his parents worried to death. No one maV7 what rras
the matter with him. They took him to one doctor or
psychiatrist after" another and none of them could help him.
Then they took him to the Institute of Human Development
and that 1lJu'1'lZLOUS woman discovered that he was just afraid
to grow up. SUch wisdom! SUch understanding 1 Oh, she's a
ilonderful troman, Bruce adores her. TIllere did you say you
lmet7 her?"

(37, p.6)
 - 'l :
THE OLD HEATH HOUSE
30 HEATH STREET
BROOKLINE, MAsSACHUSETTS
02146

ttY' friend, of course, was Mrs. Hubert 17yckoff-nee

Florence Richardson-of f!atsonville.

Evidently those years at Columbia when you were

"acquiring a Ph. D. and a fine husbend" on top of all the
gifts that I remember, were 'Well spent. I am so very sorry
that you lost your husband, but I am filled with admir£.tion
for the way you have carried on his Vlork. A community of
interest is a fine thing. We have both been fortunate.

!,u very best wishesJ

(37, p.?)
 --:._-- --::.... -- ~ ---.... --~ ... - ' ....-.

• .» t --
l TV
.-.s

;,:r s. l.:ary C"-..r:r Jones

Univer~lty cf C~lifornia
In~titute 01 ~ Develo~nt
Ech:ard JiJ<lCl Xo:onn Hall
Ber...;ele:>", Cl.lifornic.-
94720

.1

--.I
THE OLD HEATH HOUSE
30 HEATH STREET

.. : BROOKLINE, MAsSACHUSETTS
2146 .

,~ J J'.
va:::~
\J ~
n ~ dO
IY" \ v

(37, p.8)
(38)
 post Columbia Era

Copy furnished by Mary Cover Jones

for inclusion herein

(39)
 R es ea rc he rs of a fu
Ex pl or in g in th e setudire da y,
May fi nd two wing~d m en t,
Deployed upon a pe disp hi nx at ba y,
m en t.
Above, im pr es si ve in
One word is th er e fo it s si ze ,
"We know no t what it r re ad in g •• •
But st ud ie s ar e proc si en if ie s,
ee di n~ .1 f

fl }111 ely C -t ee r ~ s

(4 0, pp .1 -2 )
 f"olr lClhu'iJ"'1tm OJ', c:J l~ce0l1 cheer- ;
A ImeUXow New VeOlr«,
'~ViHl 011111 ~ood thnn'J.r aIF'el1~~).
Andl m0l1 ~OUl be ..rtoic
('l'lhIOUl~h fhe Itrend! f.,.r Mlero7-oic)
Come Ja1ll1Ulallr~ Twent~.

M'e'", amdl ft-r:'J

,.......
.c-
o

'"d
N
'--'
 <CQhunbia ~lnitltrsitp
intor<CitpofJflrttt l'odt

l:&rch 3 t 1923

To mlOill it may Concern

Thin i~ to certify that Mary Cover (Jones) rqcp.ived

her ~aster's degree in Psy~~oloeY fro~ Columbia Unlv~rslty

in l:ay, 1920 t and has fulfilled all t~.e r-e quf r-ene nt.s for
t~e de gr-ee of Ph.D., except the presel?t1:tl3 of the final

disserta tion.
During the period of her work at Columbia" she has tau3ht
a cour-se 1!1 AdoLe s cerrt PsycholoSY in the New York Y. i!. C.A.,
and a course in 01 ini cal Ps:,'chology a t ~omen' s }led! ~al Colle::e,
Philadelphia, ?a.
The ma.t.e r-La L for the d I sssrtat~lon, '!A ~tudy 0::: the Psych-
olo,sical De ve Lopmerrt of Childr''m under ~Wo", is being compi led
·from data collected in the Baby H~a1th Stations, Child ~~lfar8

Depart~e~t of t~c Bo&rc of Eealth, durin8 1921-22.

'.

A~sociate Professor,
Dp.partm~nt of ?nycho10gy

(41)
 .... PD. . . . . .

CITY OF NEW YORK

" J'DEF'A~T'MENT '~OF"'Pli8dc ;WE':FA~E
NEW YORK CITY CHILDREN'S HOIIP'ITAL
RANDALL'S ISLAND

October 1, 1920
.!

To Whom it I,~ay Concern

t ,

This Is
..
to certify that Mrs • l!ary Cover Jones

...
has d~rin~ the past four months serv~~ capably
'.j

.
.,

at this institution as assistant clinical

'

psych~logist. During this period she has

.:riven 7Lndividual examdriat.Lons , and has also

e onduc t e d 0. comprehensive school survey..

Acting Psychologist, June l--Sept.l, 1920

(42)
From The Johnstown Tribune

(43)
 ~ ..

- --
.:--
~

r-- ~-- -- -- -- - ------~

j •

,r

.1
),
l~' ~' .

--- \
.'
(44)
 up

.t

" , .. ~

.... I "1'.

hr~ved.eed"that 'sh~
.r. ..: .
Th·'=tt, means 'they, 't.hough'he beean
•• •. " • r :~T~ ~ .... "
'( ." and she" .kneiighi"
".
• ...,..:..
he ),·:as.' more
..
',' ".~_.:. r ',,_
than

(45, pp. 1-2)

 .: :..... • . . . ,,: '.=.. : , . ': . . : , . : "": . : : " . .-. -, .. :.-' " " ':.:'.'~.
....
la~d 'she :~~~ih.~~e ;'.~'7:~:,
'-. \

.:. ., ::-;~:'.: ... : itnd. they' did 'and 'they got engaged.
'!:"~-/~ •• ~ . . .. . . . . '. . .', . . ..':,::,>_.:......• ?:;;':_ '-~;~f
to.\~ll her
'.
mother
. .. ··father~
-and . .
: ' ~
Her
.,
father ·s!;li.d . "That'
.
5; fine but -:"::'~:.-
.'. .'. - . .' . - ~".

:.a~e you sure' h~ Wll;I.:'be.~~6·d.to y~u?~ (All' .father' 3~sk t}1~t. 'be~'~~~'~:::
.... ' .. {i(·~l~ey ,.;ant "tl~'eirdaUgh~~;s'.~~ . live ha~:lii:r ev cr- af~er~ .. '~,' ·':G;.way·. :.: ." ...
.':'('.:.', . '.' .' .... .: .: - Hap· .. ' ':,.'. , L··' . . " •. '~ ~'.... ; '. . . :;,.. :~ ·-.,:;;;:S:~
_:~;;~., Betty. aasur-ed h~ he .was a' very gentJjF man s, ~o you.' know why. she.' .-;.. ,.~~,:,
:':;" sai.d he \V~~?>~ Be~~us'ed~g~:'11i~~d:hi~ '~~d"h~ ·l~~~d·.d:Og~·~~:;:··j~~~·~:e·'.;i,;·{i:~
.. ..... .. ......... ::~ . "~::"" '-':··f:· .:' ~.'~. ::'~:~~ .'<: . -: :......
< _.:':'~":. -: . :.:'. '.' , '·~I'·:·:""·;'· :':~~~>~~;'~i':'~::': .." ~;·~~~::~~;t·
':::':',L: ..tol~ her- pareI1~~ tihat.. every·,.t~.~··t?ey·., w~.!l~·. walking.'. out . in.!-:~h~.: cou~try:~&
:..~~ ~.:';;..-:: ~. ..:' ,. .,.:... '~. ... ':";'.,:, .:.:" :.;"::.':.c:..':.~: .'::. ': ..')::~\--:'j'·:·:~'':-:'~:~:.f t~\i" '-.~::: ~. ~; ..j; ~~~: • "; .. ';:'~.:•• V'· ': : .;'" '/~.{:'~:r\~;.· {t;t:...' }~-;,~;;~~~
. fL;i\:"t{le dOgS"10t~ld,.~ out. .·frC?m~~~.h.e::ho~se9.a~d:·be-. cross<but)when.··.-;'they~~~!.~.::~'
..~ <%~-, :::~:-. ' '.:-.. ::. ~:.:~ ..:'.~;: ..~~ . . ~~.{:~~ . : ~.::. ::~):~.-. . . )..'::..::,.~.~ \:~.~.~;~<Jj~::.~~t;i;~~~D~~:i:~f:·;~:~:~~~~~··~:~~~~:~ p}:~~;~~~r? · 'r: .!-::;?rt~l~·;.~·~;f:t~::~~a)ffii~~~-·:·;·;~~~}l~.~:J~~~~$j~l~
:;":> .." sme Ll.ed . Hap and 'ha . 5poke<'to>~,tliera:,:·theY 'wagged:, their;;tal1stand~lera~f·::;~:l

2~~
to'.
:. .,..
<.:,.,>.,
.'
.-:. . ;..- "'fhat ·.summer·.:.-theY~·bot~.~rked ",et,<the s·a.me:' place ~Randal~~ ~1.~;
: : ':' . ..,: ..; .: -, ':' ;":' -.,:- ;': \:;.'i ..,. ':';' ,:.:.:~:"~''', ,':~>::' >~;.- :i:;;;i::P~j::D::-:~.':#..f4.t~;;':';~·~1;'}.;·~·.:,;fl'r'¥~~
.r; '.Isl~nd;) in th~':I':H~t >r-iver"in:' New York;~ .. Th~· tried~Lto':"pretend:~~?'~}~"%i~'f&
. <: " , ' ,.... • '. ..•••• .' • • • •• ' : : . ' .' '''.c';;''': :::;: ..': ..:. '.'. '. :~'" .'<':~. ~.: : :...' .':":;';;::~:~. :y~:~~~::1,~~~;¥;,'7}";:;I~~ ~;~'f-;fu1:~'
c
'the~r "rere~ust c·1.stial acaaaintances but ~er; one kne\lT.. ·::;·lovers ' •••• .,....:.:.:7".,
• .~. I ... I : •• .:

are like that.. 'They think because they -can't·· se!~ any ofi~' '~'i;~e' . \·;<:t~~i~
.. '," " ,..' .,'" .. !.came! ". . '" '.. :" ,-' ':': .:.'.< '
. no on-9 else. ca~ .see~.hem·.:·~·~heIl c4in-the"'day th~y·\·lere·..goi~ggto?:~~?f.
. '.: .. . . : ' '.~' ·:~i·:.~::~:;•.:.::.:.:.'··../.:,::#f~if~::~
get marrie('1. ·Betty's. sister \'lent to the isl.::.nd to be ·\·ntn·,..her ..;... :C;'; :f'::,.:,~-:
'.. . :", . ~:~>~~_~.~~.~.c:?:~f:~;
and' ~lhilc. Bett.y i-'jas dres":ing s~Ei looked a't herself, ~n the m~r!'oW'":':'~.--:':
. .." .f . _ . .. . ..
sis~ernDo yo~.think I should "'l=:lsh my' faceil1
.'-.', . .
.>.'.....~
,.'

.sj.. ::~ter a little 'bit enviolls o:f Bet:t.y •

...... ..:.: •..... I\.~:: f~t:-:~.·::- ':._ ·;~;:·}~i~~::1~;.
Hap ~nci. :Be~ty met': ~n t~e p.iE'!r ·thRt day and ..Jhen·:theT·-·":·~;,,.:<'1·
.' . ·;:;-5.::.':'.-;'..'.:.!i'" .' .. ~~" ·:t~'7:;~t:;
c
sa\1' one anothG~ they. 'Dret~~d~ri ":.he.7· "TeTe so su:'prized thatthey·;.·.:·:.:p,;r::: ,

'. / . .~ ~" .' ~~. "_. '." '.:'.:"'~...". ·.~i. :'7,;~t. ~:l'

. \-T~r~ ~o~h go in!;.. to ~aker t~;],ir vticati~n~ -at.the '.~.t~_· ~:irne'~":·.:':·~heY:~':::A:fli~

, :(iid ~h:.i :.··to ·.fool the 'pe;opla: a.roun~:.~hern·s~ .they wouldn't·· know ~heij;y:
. . ' .:' :" ". ,':;/. ::;.:~ :~~; ~:-/../1:):'~
.". . ,,- .~ . " . r.- ',..' ..~:">:~~~:-

wer'? on th(:lir ~'nyto ~et rnar-;-ie:i.· l'h~~was~us'~';~the',CO:ilP..~~cated/£ii:t~

... _. ; ~·.I.:<.:. . . . . ...... -. . ..:~;:'~::~"" 't :- "·7":~'~:~'?"~\~;~":~·~·'·:-:~~.;:;~;.3~~';

".
.'o"ay Hap li,::eFle"too dQ. t~i.~gSJ.:~ut nt~ 'one ttas fOqle~. <;~,.,:~e~~~~~:..~,f,~!:,:.,_~~~.~;.;:ii~;~-:
'. " '1"-'\ . ' . .: .... :.' .'- ~ ..:. ... J_. : ... i~ .. ~,._ ,:~~.' ..
i.t. ....~~·t ~·r··11r:·

ar:lus:.~d at t.he <"chl:lr.J!h:fug .~of thes'.} two young peoule ."'.' ". ':' :~.:·L·;'·\·/:'~·::·>:··i~;! ;;'}'~;:'.;".
.. . ~ :~. .... .; . ''': .;:: '. "".<i·. ·····.. ~F,!:i~~\~~~~i:~l~~~.i.'/;!·:~:;~:;~<
" Be~ty' s 'brothe; :;'~~d si~ter \'lent :\dth' .t.hem· t6·,·get~.marrie(1.~·
,J ". ... '... :" ,;' . .il'· ·.·:,:)~"I'''·-~·.~~~~~:':·l'~ : ~:.-~~ >;..~:. :'~~
" Dl1d the man \-Tho 62..rr1.3d. the~' :rorsot to sign the ::l~~rlag·e:.·license· .bu',
-', .:..,.~. ~:.",i:'.p~'tT . .1 :L~p6l.b:;~i '.'T: P.y-!.:.~_,,~t;t.a~¥Y' ..r.aY.--;-:;~~~.!. ~.r '1~.~ ''f:::.::-''-. :.T.-;.;~;,:;-./}.'<:.,'.

(45,p.2)
 N nrnran WI10tltUn
112 EAST 19th STREET
N~W YORK 3, N. Y.

July 26. 1960

IDqin qrrl·tiftrli
mqnt .. _./l.~~~l77{~ . . . ~
:-=::::::~-'=:\: . ::::~=~~::=.~~.::::
Mrs. Harold Ellis Jones
268~) SIms to. Road. . ~.i

Berkeley 8. Calif.

;,iy Dear Mrs. Jones: ~""''''' n nn n .

mere by mt' nn Urb itt tilt' bunhn of
I received your letter of
July 14th and r'ead it wi th great interest.
I'm slo~ in answerine beceuse I was eway. £,lnniug!' I)
rim surpriseQ and ashamed. that I gave-you
th!'.t weQcHng service book without m~r signe- ~
lit ........ J1... E.n..k\ ... h.. ? . . <::::."k:.C...:.....J~...~~
' .
. L ....

tl~e. I will be delighted. to sign it now. nn tilt' n···frM~l n.i:lay Of.....,,:/~/t.:J.n~ .

Itls ~ kind of a joy to read these d~ys a
itt tlyt ycar of our ~orb Nturtt't'lt ffi,uuhrrll Ul1l1
tentiL18ny like yours tt the deep satisf~ction ..J-- _-- -
to be found in a happy J;!iaI'r-iage. I had an .............................: ~{.k~ uu ..

t
e:~e~ience like yours and then met a grief
rnl1formubll! tn 1.1t orlJiuaurt' nf (!jolt nUll lqr ~n1tJS
like yours.
nf t4~f.Ht:tr. ," /1) . _
Thmll~ you for sending the
clip~)inG about your husband's distinguished _ ~:!. ~!'::~~'::~:\_~:-:::~ ..~L~\.~ l y.:1..Q:Y.\~<?;::..[~
MINI.TER or 1'HE GOSPIL
career,

Sincerely yours, :~f1£1l1J;;~-~-

.',11
.
WITNElU,' , .. ESENT AT THE ""RRIAGE

~.~~(~:~
.......
.:
/

.J>.
CJ"\
r
:1
'-'
Horman Thomas
l-:t: i~;

!
 P. S. 64, MANHATTAN
LOUIS MARKS. Principal

\ TEACHER'S RATINGS

.u.ary O. Jones Ungr.

Teacher ..:. Grade _.. . .
, iJ
. f th:; di
Y our ratings or e. term en ng .:
an. _31, 921 .
l . .. ,
. . be
IS given low. In case
you request a revision of ~tings, please make written application giving supporting facts.
;
~
1
. 1-
1) ..
.
Instruction Days and fraction of days absent.. 24 .

Discipline ~. . .. Number of times absent . 2

Remarks: 4]):Pr.~9i.a t.e your. oo.op.er.ati.on in t.es.t1ng _._ : _._ .

......... _. __ -- .. --_.--- --._ -- -.- - - --- - .. -- ..: -- _ __ ..

. ---_. _. - - _ . - . - . - .. -.------ "--'--

(47)
 HONORARY P'UalDENT
MARGARET FLOY WASHBURN. PH. D.
VAaaAR COLLUa
NEW YORK STATE
HONORARY ME".ERa
ASSOCIATION OF CONSULTING PSYCHOLOGISTS
.lAMES McKEEN CATTELL. PH. D.
GARRlaDNoON·HuDaON

EDWARD LEE THORNDIKE. PH. D. PIIEalDENT StCIIETARY

COLUMBIA UNlvERalTT DAVID MITCHELL. PH. D. ELIZABETH A. WALSH. A....
ROBERT MEARNS YERKES. PH. D. 180 WaaT 85TH STREET 17 LalUNGTDN AVENUE
Naw YOIIK CITY NEW YORK CITY
NATIONAL REaEARCH COUNCIL

March 3, 1923

Boerd of Examiners
Depar-tment of Education
500; Park Avenue.

Dear Sits:

This is to certify that Uery C. Jcnes wh~ is making

8pplic~ticnfur the position of Psychologist, served in this

capacity fo~ the New York State As soc.l at.t cn of Ccnsulting Psy-

chologists durjng the ycar~ Janu~ry 1 to Decem~r 31, 1922.

Her work ccnsisted' in the examinaticn of chilqren ~nd we are

glad to take this ofportunity to express cur appreciation of

the que.I i ty and value of her wor-k,

Yours truly

York StHte Associaticn

P2y'chologists

President

(48)
r STATE OF NEW YORK
COMMISSION FOR MENTAL DEFECTIVES
IDS East 22nd Street, New York City

This is to certify that .

. .
. .
•.. ..1~a.r.y.__.a.o:v..e.r.__ J.one~y __.Es.y..ah... . .

of ,_.4.4__11oI.n1D.g.s.id.e.__D.J:iv.e,_.11.e.w.__Yor_k_.cj,.t~--.----
is a registered examiner in mental defect, whose certificate of qualifi-
cations is on file in this office:

Dare·~··7:·~···_~~~~~_.f1.&_
l_. ~ . . _.____ _Secretary ~_ _

(49)
 }..WALTER TH O M PS O N COMP
AN~
ADVERTISING
ISTA lUSH £D 11ID4

NEW YORK· CHICAGO- BOSTON

"CIN CIN NAT I" CLE VEL AND · lON DO N

NE W YORK
- 244 MADISON AVENUE

Jul y 5, 192 2 .

1:r s. l.:a ry Co ver J one s

Psy cho loG ica l La bor ato ry
Col ~~b ia Un ive rsi ty
ITew Yo rk cst~,

1l..y dea r 1:r s. Jo~ es:

1J' s. He len ~hom'pson \'10011

Sch ool has writte;~ !:.e abo u t ey of the l!c rri ll- Pa ln: er.
SODe one to loo k aft er the
tii3. t she rzs III her cha r-ge inf al~ ts
at tr.e Scn ool .
I tol d her tha t I knew of
to go 011 "Ii th tr.cat i".ork t han no o~e be tte r fit ted
~!O u, and t hat , I wo
thi ng in n:t1 pow er to ge t you uld do eve ry-
to tak e t re job . I thi nk she
is ,,~iting to yo~ tod ay.

I know you know all abo ut l:rs !

- wis h to add fur tIie r is tr.: . Wo oll ey. Al l I
at in ad dit ion to her !sc ien
stn :::d irg sae is a. veJ:"TJ cnar tif ic
r.:::':1:3 oer son , and one wi th
;7O';lld 1 U,e to wo rk. whom you
I
I cer tai nly hop e
vd th r~r, bec a';l se I fee l tna tr~t you cml ar~~ge to wo rk
I
t it ~rould onl y be ~ sho rt
bef ore you cou ld tre,-~ndousl tim e
y enl arg e the sco pe
wor k , of you r o~n

Ho pin g t~~t you r ".o rk is goi

you ,"Ii11 "';1'i tel:",e sho rtl y, ng we ll, a.nd tna t
1 aT:1 l
yo .... rs
Sir.cereljrl,B W~
..
J3~-;: ::~ ~!

I
I

(50 , pp .1- 4)
 . '
.U"".£'U OF TME CORPOR ..TION
. II. IICCLEuL"ND .""OY
LAW"£NCE K. BUTLE"
OEO"OE L. CAN"ELO
II"S. "'''CHI.''LO W. DI"CK
III.S GEO"OI .. "MERY
- DEXTE" I'E""Y • .I"
011 ..... II G. H ..SKINS
TII..C'" W. ",cGIIEGO"
011. "liED T. IIUII!"HY
MilS. WILLARD !"OPE
IIRS. "IIEDERICK G. II"'"
"liS. HO.. EII E. IS... "ORO
MENIIY G. ISTEVENS
&TAfrP'
.DN .. "OIlLE WHITO
DUlIIeTO,,"
H.LEN T. WOOLLEY
.....1' DUItlCTO ..
LILA .KI .. NEII
•• ' ...LI .... ID UNCI" TN. WILL Dit LIZll . . . . .UtlLL· ...AL .. U' .LLEN IIILLER
E HENTON
71 FERRY AVE., EAST G CE "V......
DETROIT, MICH. MAIIEL ... IIODOE"II
••C:".'A"Y

June 30, 1922.

Ursa ~aTY Culver Jones,

Psychological Laboratory,
Columbia University,
new York, N.Y.
My dear Mrs. Jones: ........
Dr. Watson wrote me about you a ahort time ago as a
pozei ble applicant f·or the fellowship which we are o,ffering here
in child psychology. It pays $,1,000. a year •. The Uni versi ty
of Eichigan will .. credit work done "'lith us by any suitably- accredited.
candid~te for a Doctor's degree.

Our object i~ of:ering the fellowship is to begin the

preparation of seme thoroughly competent yeung. women Who wish to
'specialize in the psycholo 5 y and training of very young children
~ith a view to developing leaders in this much neglected field.
The dem~d in various parts of the country' for work of this type
is on the increase. At present it oomes largely from schools of
home economics Which wish to introduce courses in child care ~,d
child training into their curricula.
We have begun our efforts with a nursery school of
: thirty children under five yeare. Three and· four-year old~ have
predc~inated, though we have so~e two and shall have more of them
next year. We have small groups of seniors from the Michigan
Agricultural College who live in the house £or three months, take
t~eir courses in health and nutrition for child=en~ and in child
pnychologyand training with us, and get their laboratory.practice
by helping in the school, a~sisting at mental and physical examin- I
ations, and making studies of indivi~ual children.
Next year ve hope to begin some research work. The
establishrr.ent of a consultation center for the mothers ~f young
children" where i:e can make lJjental and physical examinations and
study behavior proble~s is part of the plan. Our OITn thirty
children furnish ~ar more material for investigation than we have
been able to take'advantage of.
The Director, Hiss \7hite, also expects to ·establish
a depart~ent of research in problems of nutrition. For a worker~
primarily interested in psychology~ health and nutrition could be
a minor.
(50, p,2)
Mrs. Mary Culver Jones, #2. 6/30/22.

Dr. ~ateon writes me th~t you a~e married and he does

not know whether such an opportunity. as we offer would tempt you to
spend the academic part of the year away from your husband. Since
I am ~y~elf a married professional worker, I realize the complication
I have found on various occasions that professional demands have .
separated me fror.'l:::my husband for periods of from a few months to a
year. It isn't ideal, but it seems to be one of the penalities
frequently placed on a woman who insists on having both a profe~sion
and a husband, and is no more apt to be disastrous to domestic happi-
ness than many another contingency,- probably not as much so as givirg
up the profession! Of course I realize that each problem is a purely
individual one, but I am hoping that what we offer may seem to you
so directly in line of your chief intere~t~ that it will have a real
attraction. I might add. t~at we have an endowment entirelT ade-
quate to carrying out our plans~ a very pleasant set of people to
work wi.th, and a very attractive location for the school.
Please feel free to ask any que8tions yeu wish about the
situation. I will enclose the last annual report of the scheol,
Which contains a little more information which may be of interest.
Very cordially yours,

(50, p.3)
J. WALTER THOMPSON COMPANY
ADVERTISING
ESTABUSHtD 1864

NEWYORK6 CHICAGO- B05TON·CINCINNATI • CLEVELAND 6LONDON

NEW YORK
244 MADISON AVENUE

July 7, 1922

l:rs. F.arry J one s

Departmen t of Ps;,,'C}10logy
Col~~bia U~iversity
l1ew York City

Dear- ~~·s. Jones:

I an terribly S orr:l tha. t ~'ou wi 11

not be ab l e to yrori:: -;;ith Mrs. ~.~oolle~·.

I do not ,~~~er tret ur~Qer the cir-

curast.an ce s you do not care to under-take a 't":il.ter's
\'lork awa::l from ~'our !:.usband. I yd.sh you all the
joys of t he new duties t:-12.t are co::-ling to you, and
no.,e of tile sor-r ows ,

lmy ti~e :')01.1 want to core down to

see me, I sl~ll
be $lad to see you - only, give me
a rL~g a day or so ahead ,

We are ha..... ins a ver~T deli~htful ti."TIe

on 10ng Island - plen~y of ~~immillg and canoeing.

Rosa'l Le send.s 116r love.

(50, p.4)
 aAMUEL • HECKMA N. "H.D.
£llurntional Q!1inir
DIII.CTOI O
m~r QIoUrgr Df Utr ctua Df NIDI lork

."

!/L .; -t ~ a;» l'na.q a..- J~

~ .L....- ri ~ IL :J ¥ ~ ~ t""
L~~~u...~s~
~~~'-~6~&...
k4; , ~ .: ~ ,.,' '.£.; ~
ri. :« : 1{ (; '~ ~ £ ~ ' r t<o
~? '2~J

(51 )
Thi. commu nicatio n ia atrictly con6de ntial and i. Intende
d only for the peraon to whom it i. aent.
 'r£ar!Ters QIl.lTleg£
QInhlmhiu: 5{htiurrsit~
*rw iJnrk

M rs Harold Jones
(I.~rs I.Iwry Cover Jones)

J am authorized to say that you have been appointed

Associate in Psychological Research
(Inztitute of Educational Research)
in Teachers College. The appointment extends from
September 1, 19G3, to Aucust 31, 1924-

when it expires without further notice, unless definitely

renewed, The allowance is $ 1,800.- per annum. (.y,)

Please to signify your acceptance.

By authority of the Trustees

Dean

(*) and rent of epart~ent, if it can be secured.

( 52)
 \.

The little girl on the kiddie car is Barbara Jones

(53)
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY

BERKELEY • DAVIS • IRVINE • LOS ANCELES • RIVERSIDE • sAN DIECO • SAN FRANCISCO SANTA BARBARA • SANTA CRUZ

INSTITUTE OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT EDWAIID CHACE TOLMAN HALL

BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA 94720

November 22, 1965

Dear Larry:

Harold once prefaced his introduction of you to a Berkeley audience

with the account of how our association began. It was accurate and needs
to be repeated here as I salute you:
It was soon after our marriage, when I came home starry-eyed and
exalted to tell him about the most exciting and stimulating encounter that
I had had that day with a man named Larry Frank. You had exuberantly extolled
the virtues and advantages of study in the interdisciplinary field of Child
'Development. Talking a mile a minute and every word of it cogent, you sold
yourself and the field to me at the meeting at Columbia in the early twenties.
As a result of that and further encounters, I was one of the first group of
about 20 people who studied under a Laura Spelman Fellowship in Child
DeveloIJllent.
I remember that you kept your eye on us as Harold and I pursued our
joint study of infants in New York City. When the University of California
was chosen as the site for a new center of Child Development Research, it
was through your efforts that Harold was Offered and accepted the position
of Director of Research.

From then on you played an increasingly important role in our lives:

as benefactor, goad, stimulant, and, always, an understanding friend. Even
our children came to associate you with our welfare.
Do you remember the time when our preschool-age Barbara, overawed by
your importance in our scheme of things, expressed concern about whether
you were finding us up to scratch? You lovingly tucked her into bed that
night and said some magic words which sent her contentedly off to sleep.
The last time Harold and I saw you together you were on an unofficial
visit and dropped in at the Institute just as a seminar was getting under
way. Harold introduced you to the audience and you said a few warm words
of greeting. Many in the audience were staff members who knew you from
earlier times. I hope you qaught the response of pleasure and welcome which
their faces and manner reflected. They would much rather have dismissed the
seminar speaker and had the time with you. It was a tribute:

(54, pp.1-2)
 - 2 - Nov. 22, 1965

We carry on at the Institute. We try to keep"faith with your views

of Child Development for they are the best. We hope you have been gratified
to some extent with what we have done and that you will, in time, see many
more reflections in our work of your crusading spirit. Our results are just
beginning to bear the fruits of that interdisciplinary and longitudinal
approach which you have championed.

Larry, we have always honored and loved you and l' m so glad to be
saying this to you, today.

This letter was written to

Lawrence K. Frank in
celebration of his 75th
birthday, December 6, 1965.

(54, p.2)
(55 , PP .1- 2)
 2)
(55, P.
 -------
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nut r.·S fP Tlltelana and
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n IOn n formulating prOblem_I
land in I?lll.nnlng ex~er! .ent..... .11. nerv~
exp~rt~

I. ~:. ~: :JbHNSTbWN'~
v- .... '.
';i "I'oUS . child 'or 0&1t· tbAt contlnuou.al
SON ::a: F(f~<J:ii~ ;;1~:=:[;~~~1r::t{r:~n~Il;.lc~~mhl~f
- ~·~{I·:NI~:~.' $1~; If[e~t~~''~;r!fJ:::::;~:~~:ZYt!~~~~: I
. '. '. AND. 'DAUGHTER· 0
om- C· ··L····E·
PR'OJE''..c
.: . :.. .. .' .. • . .:. .. . ...:\':..... -:~ .ome-s~·other pbyalologlca.le dl.turb-
;':":~ ,.EDUCATIO'N'A-L"
. ~;···S::·"·· ·t1el~'i '-reP~~;illi3~~bt~e:rn:g~:~~:::: t'
"T'
;--:- ·t:::-~
,: ....,. '.' . ~....: / _ ." . . . ;;~~~~~ t'~boen':ieo:el~\~~nlta~tr:e~::;(
allty. .lfi:hu. the F~udlan may-..teDG
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• ' .. ".j. , .., ..;•.•••(.i,
tt!> l'mpha.lze the 1I1~fte&nce.of ·emo·
rona] .hocks in chlJ od. th "In h
I
t'.-:-:L' ~ry:--\.oover::.,.uneS:;Pr:iiicl. AS Dablell ahor-Uy after blrth;~begiD er complex" Bnd II ~n. T:e '~d'
.:-- ::'-1:'~. '~~N' ........ 'C-i ~'1 ". :S·· "d'~~"":i: to register emotions and sensory .Im-
.. "piU.L..~ e~", llll.t. til y'-'~ press Ions. Ilnd according tcr experta,' fPeflll.lh,t explains Jlersonallty: t"e:l I
n erma ot sl'CretloDII from the tby- I
t
' . ..'~. --;";'t ..,~ •• -"'. ~~~. ~~ to form habits tbat in later IIfe'may rotd, adrenal ,,-nd other glands. Pro'jl

~
';a,, -: - . '~L:.-').~'" .;- -""p,,";7-tu"" '~;;'rPt bl,!- helpful or..dlsaatrous. an elfort ba4 : Ct!asor J'onl!~ polnta 'out that It Is II.
. '.:,..'W;1LU. ...L110uon: lC I:elb-~~I been·mllde to- ~et· the smo.11 members: very complex proces.. atrected· by 11
s-.......'I.· _.'-.'. ',., ... .,.......,.... ~ betore- uncoDtrolled envtrcnmentat: In'eat ...arletT of factors that 'mullt bel
;;ri;;",::=,,·~'?:i" ' •...".- .,''';:'' '·'r·;.:;'7;~N,,:?'~:':::-. factors ba.ve had much chance· to,' "hu~lle1 ~T botb P.Ychological an:!
-JO'HN"- ..;:C·
';;'
-OVE'R' 'S'UR'"YE'"
'8"" .~:
~-:1.
"y-'. ..weeks'
operate-that lII. during tbe llrst·few ~) II 0 o ••cal metbodll. calling on the
of life. ~ .. ' ~. ' . :'..••..,r- :.,.,.... sources and expert' training- derel-
-:- ".;,":; . . '.. ,.,.".
·"""·<t··.S,,:· :'· .." .•,..--O; . . , . : . ,•••.,'t'>--:-;.,.'-~. Beside each chlld's crib ·hangs.·s.. oped .tn, both ot thelle lIeldll.;· '" I

l
'" · ·; '·~""· o,"~'i:"';~'-~~ chart on which frequent entries' Ilre" . ,
.- A recent:'lssue'of the. Kew-York
'r',
.'":: • ,,;..-:.~ , •• :~ .•.~:::. ~. ';.,:","..:"" '-';t;~~;·..' .~~ r:JadB.·' Thill recol d aets out ·io·. t'JIl
detail the progress made by the IImall
'.. " Son Also In l\otable Bole i'!".";:
. . • A ... . '

t
.· ~lltl es' ~ . " c o i:l taln·ed the .tOnOW.IOgr·.Of person ell.ch da)·. "'hen he cries and '. Of equa.J Interest.1a the--followlng
loc~' lntereat :because .ot. the'-fact ,,-hat causes the _en·lng;. when, hit from the Denver (Col..). ··Clarloo...•
that . Dr•.. :Ma.ry"Co~"er, Jones 'is·u, <eats; to what aUmull tbrough' the concerning Dr. John' Hig-son Cover,
danght - ~I\[' d' Ch I 8)'e .anl1 ear. be responds; hoW' he ol. :hi d'''' C . ' ;..'. .
:i
.er 0 '. ,r•.__ ~n
B. CO'i er,' of _''37 Napo).eQIl street:..,...
. Parents "Ilnd' student" of . pS)'chol-
rs.·
I
ar es; learns to: use bls. band!!;. how ..•he 80n
learns to distinguiSh p~ople trom lD":.
r. an ...... r&· ..•o':~r.-.';"'··..:;· ..
. Th. Janullry IIIIUB ot the·Vnlvar-
oIltllmate objects_II tbese 'are J rc- eltT of Denver School' ot. Commerce
ogy alike ehouJd be Interested. In a I corded with numberl!!~s other Indica! Buslnus Review ha. •.been.tbe.•ubject 'I
study lately ·undllrtaken.ln. New York : Hons: of de,·elopment· and import.an~. of much tavon.ble·· comment.; alnce
City by three-ap~clallsts In chUd re- I data ot a more technlcal-;-na,tur~;;:;:..' '.:omlng tro~ tbO'1)E:e~<:,\,-\>Out:·~thr' .
search•. -They Intend.to,make.a,dally ~ 'A moving picture camera bas been week. ago. " : . ""'~'..'''''''';''''':'''''''\O''''.•,
bi~grapby'. 'of:' infant. development,
wlth.8o new .experlmental attack on
ILdded 'to tbe" resea.rcp ~ equipment. I" It contalne a comPlllt•. "compliatlozr
\t"lth thl4 macblne It ,nil-be. posslblll of an of the etatlstlca.l:data::and re-
some, ·ot, the '. problems that ;perplex to prepare II. In'aphlc· account of the I ports of the School:' or·.- Commerce
lIclentists in 'thlll ·fteld. The group. motor and emotional t;levelopmeot· ot:. Bureau of Stati.tlcal ·.Reaearcb com;.
l In charg..... of the project 'Includes Dr.
Harold . E.~·.Jones.~alllllst:ufl professor,
oe psycbology at Columbia "nlver-
e:l.cb child. ' . ' .," '. -". plied elnce Its. inception '. eoma' ',two
The thHlry tbat babies lIbould,"be year., ago.' ,. Allot the materiaL, pre-:
sternly Ignored when tbey cry' Is not nnted In thlll·luue has .beeo brought
llit):;· Dr, :Mary Cover Jones. bis wIfe. 'one In which tb'!l commlt-tee concurs. up· to datol and a. complete,·analy.l.
end :Mislr Edith ·M. Burdick. . . psy- Tbe extent.to ·whlch 11 child sbould be and lIummary Is prellented b)-,year.s.'-':-
chologlst· and trained·. Duree.' Dr:' pla:!-'ed WIth. fondled or ca.reued Is ,'. The·. prlmarY,.-.purpose· of.~ the • .Jan~.
Rolsnd G. Freeman. Jr... ot Teach- a qUilst!on over which baby psycholo- uarY ...laaue Ja .. to. prellentlltatlstlcal
era' ColI'!lge. Is to be ~edlcal adviser.. gisu" Ilod'· .pecl&llsls dltter. Some lIerlu' IndIcating ,variation, in,l.Den-
According to Profesllor .Jones. the hold thll.t an infant IIhould receive 11 ver 'and Colorado :condltlons a.nd" to
I Bp'!lcillc alms are "the IItudy or humar.. minimum or attention. that be sh!,uld. compare ··tbesa~wlth. : .naUonaI:conill.·
d~v!,lopment:1rI-/('~c>nt~r~p~I11o)"" I>'! left alonl!' as much IlS posslble.tlons." :-'..: .'- ,-';, ""';'::.f'f.~'. :-....<{:.Y';,..;.'1,;:.~ •.:.,,:
I enVironment,. the deter~lnatlon or the- Otherll. however. 'clallTj that a_child
bl'st methods of handling' children oC ~rought up in sucb emotionally ster- thlll workwll.s compiled' ·'Is '·'&"Iven
Drr Cover"'·under :wholl8-' sU-perrlsIOn.'
nurser)' age and tbe 'educatlonal endft lip. ~ur~ouDdlngs 1ft likely to derelop; mucb. -credit' for bls ploneerlng;1d tbfl
to .be. achi'!lved In th~ Intereet of ,the a trustrate~. or uns)"In.~athetlc-.dIS-/ preelnt.atlon or thl" m .. terlal•.~·for·, It,
children themselves. .A. home·•.1or poalt1~n.- which may ma~~ it dIfficult Is the first time .t~at such .datil. has
tbls researcb work hall just. beeD' pur" . tor him. to form .. £!o;le__~les in atter been. collected, Ilnal)"zed/ a.nd atudled
. chased on West Ninety-fourth street j' years. ...:' . '. . ~'-':-:,i 1 on .a, .. 8cientlflc ,basis In ·.the. Rocky.
. and tlnan<:la~ al'rangem~nts made for
& thre~.ye~r Bt~dy .•. ' "';.' , .
Recent :ltudles 10 Vienna haYe 1n-'1 '::Uountaln region,
I dlcated thlLt whll.e a week-old ··chlt'
One ot Ne'Y 'l:ork ~ noted psycholo- ! ~a)-s Jess attention to the·' human prImarily"'" a" ·"raw··. material" ;':.5tate
I . ' ' "'j'._•• ",,";
Tbe IOtudy shows that" C·oiJrad~.:·j;
~sts eome tJme al'\'o Pl?lnted out the
Imporlance of estllbllshlDg & home In
I ~oic~ tban to other .ounds.· by the with agrlcultural.... ·mln·ing-- aDd~llv_'
age of tour we eke II. marked change stock inaustrles predomlnanL' 'iD '.
which normal children might be ob-
I may be noted. not only In tbe ~ntant'al ver I~h,'- metropolitan' center'.'or :~~;
aen-ed from Infancy In ·order that. relLdil!ess to rellpond to a TOlce but. Rocky. ::Uountll.lns wh' m
complete re~ords of . their· behavior also' In tho klml. of' response.- The population transport;~lon'~il-s~~~
--h
Intereet . 10 child I' sight of a person 8 face is more In- turing Jobbl" ~ and banklng",,;":-·. C:.-
could be mil-de.
I
study has greaUy locreased during. terestlng Ilnd· compelling to a child
the past few )·ears. particularly. In.i at four or I\ .. e months than Ilny other been·recel:lna D.
. Dr Co.... e ' 0 d hi I" -
s 0.8S stllntll h~ve
.
connection with the'. pioneer work or., "I!'ual stimulus. It eeems reasonable ever one Wh;.hcons-ratulat\ons f-Xom
ti,e nursery schools. but Cle need was' to eome. therP!ore. that a bab)' Bhould ot tle Business ~ s~en th~l~st.• uue
felt tor research In which the chll- have a little 1I0Chll phl)', a Jltlle I i ;,ev ew. II galn-
dren can be observed not merely dur- human companionship and a cenllin I·o~gt~s r:PgDltat .on·. o~tsl1ebtbll lImlrs
Ing a part· of the· day but througb amount of Intelligent fondllng. It Is e on as II own Y the fol-
the 'wbole 24 houn during which con-I not hcll1 necessary to take a child lOWing letter. received from liorace
clUons of diet. IIleep and eoclal sUmu- from lu crib whenever it cr.les o.nd
'Iation can be' sclentltlcally controlled. calm II. but merel)' change its pOlll- &~ft~te~V n~~~...~.U.~I~!~.g ~n~.~:L0~~':' :.19-:
I f· Cl~k'l Educll.Uonal Director., Am. er-
C· ~- .,;."-'f"....'l,h:'\f":-U

I"
- tion or carry It to Ilnotber room wben j"D P f 0 .. - : , :
_ It becomes restless. .:,ar· ro essor- o'\"er:' .".. :. ,.:.:~:.J..:
Nannal Coadltlo... Kept. ,,:.0:... ~ CryIng -otten becomes a kInd o' .1 waDt to congratulate you on .th.
In . the nubiery· ot the new bo'me ':chllin reftex" ... It iM pojnt~d out by .~:;.; ~a:lorllt•. J~umber ot )·oua..Busl-
Upto>wn' the preunt experlment.. l. ..', '. ' .. ' " ," e ew ,.,\\h!ch. ;rou have~sued
Ijun getllng under w .. y •. Det&Ua are ~D[U80r.. J'0.ne_ puformance-:car,,: tor. .January, 192,; " . . ; ...... ,.... ~::. .
, being 'Workeo out· and metood» Ild .. pt- ; ~.!!-o.!! !ODK af:ter:. tlie ·orl&1:n.al;~UJ!l~~ The mere mechanical detail or
led' to 'meet the ·.requirement. of.·tha ; ~!';,.~~~ed '~c;>:~operate.~, ···.~f::- :'o't-"..,.;:, getltln g htQgethcr 70 pages· ot mate-
. carefully '.uper:vlud·. little. family. ~ I.t .ha~ oui1d..-Ui.t iifir;...fil.fI; ria BUC as this Is quite .ome job,
. 'Thlle the 'cl)~mlttee engaged In .the .'lb&blea..,rn ,t
preaent reaeal'ch'ls naturally aDxlous t} leas,~er;y
neWtlhomergro:r.:lI\T.~." and I ~lncerelY 'wlsh .YOU e"erT suc-
. ~ruoqn .. bgu~ ~,·o~~. cess '\\ Ith this publication. . I ·feel
to find out aU there Is to know. about J¥os.~:.ot·tb IIT.., thla;.cbUlQ,teu. ';Ibn i tbat the lIervlce you are rendering
:I. child tJ:om. the day he I. born up • two,lmontb 1d,.;.;·uea'!-i:Ol!llln. tlli1~l' riD .t~el busIness Interests Df. Colorado
to the age ot three or four. tb&- ex. lher"'amall ~~;.,.leeplnJr;,f-:'K~~ . f" ",11· llventually meet wltb much. de-
perimental-work: wllJ not be, permlt- ~.tarlng aL ~ av!JahIDe~ec:.ifD:" served re.c?,gnltlon.: . . . . ....:.. -,
ted to hamper In any way tbe normal l,the;·ceJJJng~~abour:~~'\·01Cldc. no " ' " . ",~.'_ S •.I !,cereIY )"ours•..-"" ".!:
Dnd'· Wbolesolue•. de"elopment. Of ..· the .\the..,atterDB'.
chlldren;" .The present family ··con- :,change In - '. f emouoDaI1,.condJ.tfDn~'
wJlJm. pen.·~,~"U . 'R:. ~ .•••'. '.,• .,. • :HORACE F •. CL.U'l:S:"~.:..
• .. -.'
.!!ll,ts of' the. two Intantll· of Dr!r,a.nd· ~~nedn1Jrht, . t..,,"'ber;,p"M.~~
:Mrs.' Jones··and·three- othera.·':.One- la.vlng- awa... tha.b'.... b.,.:wouI~Ulr,· The Johns town Tr i bune
or two 'mor& ·ma)". be .added" although
it is ptanoed to keep the !amI1Nma.11
In order. tb",t conditions, ma)" tie.· as
lsomethlng,~,torl,bappe~r;(!tl.~el
~bowllver. ~~--plata.•hef:f:1).h..
i.I~Ntenna apPrQPna.te. 1o'ao: ~duhXall~
""r. Thur sday, March 3 , 1927
nearly. as -possible. like those- 0 & 4 tliOt .to &n IntalJ.~~ Jter. cn1ng."'''Cco~''
real home. '.' ... -. _.:~ .....' .... :.:. ,:,;,,;;-.,f ,'. IIn g, to ber pr.eaent KUardl .. ns",'liI ipro~
. .. . -. n. ., .a bly' th" reau.1t:· OC'1 &0,. aCCollmulatJoii
,of organic and·.-musculll.r IItralns; c ....... ,
Iln&"·~. 1I00n ~r~he. t8;<plrked up; ta~n.
Ilnto.anoth~;oom'~'on'the.ftIn
Il}()rch and p' ·.in '.11.' l1sb"'1~.1'I' .. r"DL
Ill-Oaltlol1. ~""'~ ....... ~.~~-.~
,..... ( 56)
 \

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S~CRETARY
CHILD DCVE:I.OP PlEHT f"OUND4n o"
NEW YORK Crty

THE AME RICA N PSYC HOLO GICA L ASSO CIAT ION.

INC.

TAKE S PLEA SURE IN ANNO UNCIN G THE ELEC

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(58) <,.
 The Observation of Food Habits in Young r~--­
Children
SARA W. PRENTISS AND MARY COVER JONES
Institute of Child Welfare. University of California

NE of the chief problems confront- us with valuable suggestions for the-im-

O ing an exnerimental ~llrser:y _Reb.ool . provement of our present menus and

is that of devising objective, means mores.
for studying the suitability oT its own But even supposing our aims to be well
procedures. It is difficult to measure im- defined along the lines first suggested,
provement in the kind of skills which the there are still unsolved questions which
nursery school teaches. The routine at present themselves. Where is the hap~y
lunch time, for example, may provide medium between permitting the chilOo
many educational opportunities for the eat foods which he likes, and requiring
young child. How are we to appraise, him to become accustomed to foods which
even roughly, our he dislikes? How
success in playing m u e h experience
up these opportuni- should a two-s-year
ties? The conven- old have with new
tional nursery school foods? Is the" clean
seeks to encourage plate habit" a good
children to eat a one, and if so, what
variety of foods in methods shall we
portions adequate use in developing
for nourishment, 'Or in maintaining
and furthermore to it?
maintain e e r t a i n In common with
standards a S t 0 other nursery
motor control, in- schools at child re-
hibition of restless- search centers. we
ness, and application have at Berkeley
to eating during the endeavored to study
lunch period. It is some of our pro-
a question how far cedures by ke~12ing
we are justified in a .Ql!U:L !~<;lo!:d of
attempting to induce WASHINO UP FOR LUNCH .the. togd habits of
children's appetites '2ur ~ro_up ,of chil-
and manners to conform to adult prac- dren. During the meal, each teacher has
o

tices. We have some evidence to show that "noted,' in some detail, the behavior of the
children allowed complete freedom in the three or four children at her table; the
choice of foods do not necessarily select records are kept on a chart under the
their nourishment in accord with our con- headings: !,im-f. of. .beginni~K .meal. ~iIpe
servative notions of a palatable or well- of ending,' foods refused. fr-ods .....l'~tul'nli9,
balanced diet.' Possibly children who are seconds, Bllpetitp ratiii:g (designating on
allowed more self-expression could furnish a5-pomt scale the child's apparent readi-
ID8\"is, D, Self-selection of diet by newly w ~ ness for food), motor skill in pR.Dillin.,g
infants. American Journal of Children's Disease6.~
26: 651. dishes, remarks, 'By summarizing the data

Reprinted from. CHILDHOOD EDUCATlON, 'depte7llbr1", 1930.

(59, pp.1-4)
 on these sheets for a term, and compa ring dessert . On the other hand. those who
one term with anothe r, we have had an criticiz e this policy mainta in that it puts
objecti ve basis for evalua ting some of our undue emphas is upon the dessert . In
results . We could to some extent deter- particu lar, when the child is preven ted
mine the effect of ~ upon food habits; from having his dessert he is not only
depriv ed of the total numbe r of calorie s
planne d for his meal, but in additio n the
balanc e of the meal is someti mes badly
upset. The classical examp le of this is
found in the menu in which the dessert
(a custard , probab ly) is relied upon to
furnish the chief protein , aside from milk.
Other types of desser ts-star chy puddin gs,
fruits, etc.-se em not so import ant from
the standp oint of balance, for in the
course of the meal most childre n obtain
sufficient starch and sugar, and at the
nurser y school there is always the tomato
or orange juice for extra vitamines. in
additio n to other sources of these on'the
the _impor tance of ~_ as trainin it menu.
feature s; the relatio n the ~ of 1he What sugges tions can we gain from a
week to food consum ption; the tenden cy
to return , refuse or take second helping s
~f differe nt types of food; the progres~
of the group. and of individ ual members.
from term t~ terl!!...i and the reliabi lity o~
'the appetit e ratings which were in daily
use,'
At the time of this study serving s were
not weighe d or measur ed. The genera l
policy was to give. modera te sized servings.
.!£.Jill. and to give a second serving when
a child asked for it. The child was en-
courag ed to finish the first course. If he
return ed any of it, his dessert was with-
held; or if he failed to fimsh m a reason-
able length of time, he was sent away
withou t dessert . The policy of depriv ing
MID-MO RNING ORANGE JUICE
a child of dessert , when he fails to finish
the first course, is followed in many summa ry
of our data? A studv of the
nurser y schools and in many homes. Those figures for
one term may be taken as an
who believe in it mainta in that for the exampl e. The
older childre n refused foods
cases where it is practic ed it usually does less often and
took seconds more fre-
not interfe re marked ly with the child's quentl y than the
younge r ones. Likewise
nutriti on; it does not occur every day they seldom returne d
food, and therefo re
with most childre n. 1\'11at is gained by were not often depriv
ed of dessert s. The
the trainin g the child gets in finishing the better showin g for the
older childre n was
task before him is suppos ed to be of more due partly to the fact
that the serving s
value to him than daily consum ption of were propor tionate ly
smaller for them

(59, p.2)
 than for the younger children, and partly
to the fact that most of them had profited
from a longer period in getting acquainted
with the nursery school routine. Judging
from the number of 2-year olds who re-
turned food, and thus forfeited dessert,
we w ere evidently handicapping the
younger children by serving for the main
course larger quantities than they could
consume with ease. The following ratio
between returns and seconds was shown
for each age group: 2-year group, 100:
85. 3-year group, 100 :200. 4-year group,
100 :480.
What were the results of our policy of
withholding desserts from those who did
not finish their main course? The' chances
were lout of 10 that children would
have their meals thus curtailed. When
the dessert formed the main protein dish
of the meal (as in the case of egg
custard) it was withheld slightly less
often. Judging from surface indications,
desserts were also most popular with the
children, since it was most often the
desserts which were asked for as second
helpings.
It is often felt that the first day of the
school week is the hardest, that "blue
NOON LUNCHEON
Monday" is the occasion of more upsets,
more fatigue, than the other days of the
week. Many observers believe that the
home regime in the Saturday - Sunday
period tends to disturb the child's subse-
quent morale in school. The food records
were studied to determine the situation as
to refusals, returns, second helpings, and
OUT·OF-DOOR LUNCH FOR A WARM DAY
the omission of dessert, on the first days
of the week as compared with other days.
There was no reliable evidence. from our
records, that appetite varied in relation
to the day of the week. Week-ends of
good or bad food-habits left no discernible
"hang-over" at the Monday lunch period.
Attention was given to the question of
which type of food was most frequently
refused. returned, or chosen a second time.
The following groupings were made: (1)
protein main dishes, including eggs, beef,
liver, fish, etc., (2) vegetables. including
all 'vegetables except those used in sand-
wich filling, (3) milk, (4) bread, includ-
ing sandwiches and toast, (5) desserts, (6)
others, including macaroni and cheese and
milk soups. As was not unexpected. it
was shown that vegetables were less well
liked than other types of foods.
What is a reasonable length of time for
a nursery school child to spend at lunch?
The average time spent by our group was
. approximatelv .25 minllte...s, which agrees
with our .findings for the preceding year.
With only a few exceptions, individuals
did not vary greatly from the average for
the group. We concluded that a half
hour seemed an adequate length of time
to allow for the nurserv school lunch
period.
(59, p.3)
 How reliable and how useful were the
teachers' ratings of the children 's ap-
petites T The children's ranks on com-
bined scores (time required to eat, re-
'fusals, returns, second helpings), were
: compared with the appetite ratings. The
. results gave us confidence in the useful-
. ness of these ratings, as a measure of chil-
dren's eagerness for food. We may con-
clude that whenever, for any reason, it
becomes inexpedient to take a full record
of behavior during the lunch period, rat-
ings may be used as a fairly adequate
substitute, providing these are made by
competent judges, and according to a
properly standardized schedule.
As a result of the analysis of these
meal-time situations, the Institute made
the following changes in procedure.
1. Younger children were served smaller
portions of the main course.
2. At the end of the main course, all
children were asked if they would like
more. This v..as done because desserts had
figured largely in the second helpings, an
HOW APPETITES GROW
outcome which may have been due to a
preference for dessert, but it was also pos-
sible that the children, intent upon finish-
ing the meal, had overlooked the fact that
~nds of the main course were available.
3. A judicious selection of candy was
used as an incentive for finishing the en-
tire meal, including dessert. This policy
replaced that of withholding dessert when
the main course was not finished..
From a number of recommendations for
further study, one investigation has al-
ready been undertaken-that of record-
ing children's preferences when they are
allowed choices. These choices involved
(1) the same foods prepared in different
ways, (2) varieties of foods belonging to
the same general classes (meats, g-reen
vegetables, starches, etc.), (3) different
classes of foods (starches vs. proteins vs.
fats). The data available from these ex-
periments will be analyzed in a further
effort to adjust dietaries and other regime
conditions to the needs of nursery school
groups.
(59, p.4)
 ,
··,
·
··· ~tnt£ 7~
C!" onrb (ttr£belliiaI in ~petinl ~ubJ+e.ds
SEPTEMBER l~
T--------~--------l
I l
Valid until ~ 19 .28. . ' ' ..
~ N~ 29526 ~
Theawifomia JtWe ~arbof~utafionhas examined the credentials, experience andpreparationof l l
···,,
Mary Cover Jones.
..
l ..............
Il flf
~ ~~~~
. ....... .......I
~

for Conditions of Renewal see l

'jJ RfVfRSI: SIDf of this Credentlill l

.x: QIr~i\~ntittlin ~p~dttl ~uhj~clz . ". .............~~ ........ .......

~ ~~ ........
according to the provisions of Section 1519a of the Political Code. Upon it County, or City and County Boards of
Education may grant the holder thereof a Special Certificate of the' Seoondary' Grade,
~ anefthe JasoellansOl1I-.· -._ ...._-._... ~.-- .- ......-- - - a - ... • - - '- - - - - -. - - - - - Type ..;----
authorizing the holder to teach the following subjects: Child Study and Parent Education -

.. - C"L /P(;;~~
11th
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Ootober .~ /.~,/
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Counler.rigned ..... _" Suprrlnl ...drnl o/.'PUblic {mlructlon and
fj...()fficio Stcrtlary S/Q/, Board 0/ EducQ/lon

----.
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ARCH-WORK
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~iTiIWcoli~~n:~T~tEhiit~.
uJa{ft o'h·s~H:tfbn~·t1{C-aItt,f
:"->iJ.~:';"'.:f..,t,
,..{~ ":,' ~.:; ...,:..,,~ :.r,. ··:,.....·t:...'.. ·;·.':-;~~·~
;, :'~~~$forni8f.-(:r.rbject ~~~
.- ... ~~~."'"'...li":f~·-:..:.1C11~~~~.~'.~~\~:·j.J-:;.~S-!.' .I~~"
i whJi?'the' ~~c~~(~t·:io~flreU~l'·
,phyaic lana .~ lU'ound \ .San:. Francfa co

I Bay. ·the Univelllity..~r.Cal1tor niL'!D-

stttute- of Child ·WeJlar e 11'111 :ma.k&
I an iIItenslv e attldY'~' of' the develop
ment· and growth,,01'·.1fio. b&bles,...ac-:
-

I
c or din g-., te- '''rhli;,J 'oumal ,·ott~.~e
Americ a.n·.¥ed leu Aaaoc1a.t1on:~j;; '.< ".
"Among -. the·~c1al.problem . to' be
,Etudled ," aoya the writer, "acc,Jrd ing
I to Dr, He"per t· R. Stolz or the lnati~
, t ute, will· be tubercu losis•.. 'It ·fIr
I planned /to obtain roentge nogram ..
or
: the de~lop ment of the normal chest
. an d lungs and. it ,pOBSible, to detect
.h ow early changes in the lymph
·gla.nds . begin -in babies that are. tu-
·bercul ous.· r. ':.:.: ..; .;:, ..... ':'....~,-': ..; ,.
"To .carry on ·thls particu lar phB.'!e
or the study. the·'Ala meda County
-Tubercu losLs· A..asociaUon made .. a
:grant or ',50, .wltha promise o! the
possibil ity ('f a slml1ar grant tor.the
.n ext year's work,', Various ' other
;studies or the' normal and abnorm al
·develo pment ot: ,bll.bles have' been
rplanned . The- nursery school of ·the
,Institu te or Child Weltare hIlS an en-
· roIlmen t this year 20 per cent larg-
'er than Iast year and has added an- .
lather membe r or the: faculty. The
enrollm ent JlUIt year WIlS 2& chlIdren
I ranging in age trom18 to 43 months .
T h er e, 15· a waiting lIst .ot 26- this
/ year, as only seven' new. children
IcoUld be. accepte d. all but two ot the
,25 regl.!ter ed Jut year having-. re-
~ turned . . ~ ":-.. ",:.'." '::> .:", '.:': . .:/~~:}
i "To provide toi:--the 'increase d"'eri'-
I rolln.en t. :Mary C. Jones; Ph.·D.~·wife
of Harold' E~ Jones, Ph. D.• director
of researc h at the Institut e; haa been
enKaged to take'ch arge of collecti ng
data concern ed' with eating .habtts,
motor:'a cUvlties ,:: languag e develop -
ment ·and· aoclal adjustm ent- of: the
)'cung scholal' 8:··'Dr•. Mnry Jones :was
. researe b associat e In the Institut e or
csue. Welfare ' qf Columb ia' trntver-
I qity. :tor..two- yell.1'S and has ·been a.
Fellow· in Child Develop ment. tor. the
;-;ntlona .l ~~sear~~ Counci1.·~.<;;.;~':':;~\'(
":"'_.J..• r , -:", "J.~" .'"
.~:1:··t' ...:··:'~
MllI;',To ne&,ls It daughte r or C.·B;·'
'-;over. 'ot '431; Ka'poleo ll 8treet,:;;..,':;.....~""\
• _, .-.Ii.. . ... , e . .:... "• . . . _~~w.;l;',!,."

The John stow n Tribu ne

c. 1928 1929

(61)
 By LARRy DOUGHERTY

Youmay have noticed the building

if you'veevertaken BARrsouth from
the Ashby BARTstation - it runs for
most of the block along Martin Lu-
ther King Jr. Way at 58th Street in
North Oaklan d. For many years, it
housed the nationally recognizedUni-
versity High School . During the
19605, as Merritt BusinessCollege,the
Black Student Movement began there.
Now the building is empty.
A neighborhood development cor-
poratio n, North Oaklan d Trico is
w?rking to build the Martin Luther Univ ersit y High Scho ol
King Jr. Commu nity Plaza in and late 1930 s.
aro,und, the former school building, . Cour tesy of Barb ara Jone s Coat es
which IS only three blocks outside
Betkel~limits. ',"

SlBtf Photo or IofictJaeISImon

King Jr. Commu nity Center.
The former University High School campus may become the Martin Luther

Developer hopes to build Repr inted with perm issio n

of The Daily Cali forn ian
Oakland community center from the fron t page ,
Wedn esday , Octo ber 23, 19
vol. xvii , No.1 72.
(62)
~THE¥TR!BUNE, Oakland, California
Mary Cover Jones, center, is greeted by Frank Pauli and another subject who declined to be Identified.
Subjects of landmark study compare notes
By Lonnice Brittenum
.",. Trlbu".
BERKELEY - What started as
a study of Oakland children 53 years
ago has turned into the longest
ongoing human development study
in the history of psychology.
About 90 subjects of the Oakland
Growth Study were reunited
yesterday at the Harold Jones
Institute, which was named after the
psychologist who initiated the
project. His widow, child expert Dr.
Mary Cover Jones, was honored at
the reunion.
"No one thought it would last this
long. " said Dr. John Clausen, 70-
year-old professor emeritus at the
University of California at Berkeley
and an administrator of the Jones
Institute.
"I guess it will be over when
there is no one in the group alive to
study, or when there are no
researchers left to collect the data:'
Clausen said.
The study began in 1931, when
UC-Berkeley psychologists selected
200 sixth-graders from five Oakland
elementary schools to participate in
the project. .
The students were chosen
because they were expected to
attend Claremont Junior High
School, a University of California
"reeder school" whose students
matriculated to University High
School.
By RegiMld Pe.rrtJID/Tbe Tribune
Foundation grants provided a
special clubhouse at Claremont for
the youths. Thev swam and went on
snow trips and hiking expeditions
under the auspices of the research
project.
The students have become
grandparents. retirees. mayors.
millionaires and a former assistant
secretary of state.
"I think it is important to
remember that the people who
participated in the study were br igh'
young people," said Clausen. "They
were middle- and working-class
people who were college bound."
The original participants who arc
(63, pp.1-2)
 StUdY--_~_ _~---~;;;;;;--;;~~~~
Continued from' Page A-9
now 60 to 65 years old sat at
grammar school desks and chat-
ted about old times.
"I think the study has played a
major role in my development,"
said Barbara Wright
Feichtmeir, 64. "The good,
wholesome activites helped get
us through those 'difficult' teen
THI! 1'FUBUNE, Oakland, California
A-10 ***M Monday, November 4, 1985
years."
Every few years, the partici-
pants would meet at the Jones.
Institute for interviews that
would last as long as three days.
They would cheerfully subject
themselves to extensive physi-
cals, paper work and lengthy
personal questions, never com-
plaining about the inconven-
ience.
"It seemed like it was a part
of my life since it had been going
on so long," Feichtmeir said.
"Dr. Jones and his staff were
wonderful. It always seemed
like one big family, so I never
thought it was troublesome to be
in the study."
"I think we've all felt we've •
made contribution to science,
and so it was rewarding," said
Peggy Swift Wilkins.
The participants' emotional,
intellectual and social develop-
ment was, tracked through the
years of the Depression and
World War II.
.Clausen, who has headed DC-
Berkeley's Institute of Human_
Relations, has continued the
study since Jones' death in 1960,
following the subjects' develop-
ment through the sexual revolu-
tions of the 1960s and 1980s. The
children of the original partici-
pants are also being studied,
Clausen said.
Men in the group who, were
drafted into WWII fared rather
well, said Clausen. Very few
were killed because most were
given technical support assign-
ments, a credit to their educa-
tion.
'Clausen said he is also study-
ing the consequences of men
being away from families be-
cause of career demands.

..-...
0'
W

"d
N
"--'
 Description upon a Plaque Presented at the
Oakland Growth Study Reunion
November 10, 1985

Doctor Mary Cover Jones

A Person of Rare Distinction
To the Oakland
Growth Study Group

Our Heartfelt Appreciation of the Combination of

Professional ismand Distinctive Personal Empathy
For the Sincere Help and Advice from Young Teens to Mature Life.
This Eclipsing Over 53 years of Service and Still Ongoing
To a Lady Who Gave of Herself to Help Any and All of the Study Group
1933 - 1985 U.C. Oakland Growth Study

(64)
 CURRICULUM VITAE

1. Identifying Information

Date Sheet For: Mary Cover Jones

Date of Birth: September I, 1896

Place of Birth: Johnsto~, Pennsylvania

Age:

Marital Status: Widow

2 children
6 grandchildren
.12 ~ grea t grandchildren

2. Academic Training

College: ·Vassar College (1915-1919) A~B., 1919

Columbia University (1919-1920) M.A., 1920
Columbia University (1920-1926) Ph.D., 1926

High School: Johnsto~m High School, Johnstown,-Pennsylvania

3. EXp'eri~nce

a. Professiona'

Dates Description of Experience

1969-present Consultant, Intergenerational Studies, University of

California, Institute of Human Development. .

1963 Visiting Professor of Child Development. Mills College.

1961-65 Research Associate, Institute for the Study of Human

Problems, Stanford University, Stanford, California.

1959-60 Professor in the Department of Education, University of

California, Berkeley.

1955-59 Associate Professor in Department of Education, University

of California, Berkeley.

1952-55 Assistant Professor in Department of Education, University

of California, Berkeley.

1952 In clmrge, Child Psychology Television Course, University

Extension, University of California.

1951-present Correspondence course on Adolescence (Psychology XB 113),

University Extension, University of California.
 .. e . .1qnes
M... June 1. 198

3. Experience. Professional (continued)

1948-present Correspondence course on Child Psychology (Psychology

~~ 112), University Extension. University of California.

1946-60 Lecturer in Department of Psychology. University of

California.
1949-60 Research Associate, Institute of Child Welfare (now
Institute of Human Development), University of California.

(Salary from Laura Spelman Fund, 1929-36; from General

Education Board Grant to Oakland Public Schools, 1936-39;
from General Education Board to University. 1939-48.
Served without salary, upon tbe expiration of this grant.)

1949 Lecturer, C!lild Development, In Service TraUd.ng Program

f0t: S~c1a.l Workers. Alameda County Welfare Comm1ssion.

1947-49 Lecturer, University of California Summer Session for

.
Training in Family Life, Health and Social Relations •

1944 . Lecturer, Utah Agricultural College Summer Sesslon.

1936 Lecturer, Cregon State College Summer Session.

1927-28 Lecturer, Parent Education. State De~artmentof Education,

California.

1925-27 Rockefeller Fellow in Child Development, Columbia University.

Institute of Child 'Welfare Research, National Research
Council.

1923-25 Research Associate, Columbia University, Institute of Child

Welfare ~earch.

1921-23 Psycholo~t, Commonwealth Fund Preschool Survey.

1921-22 Lecturer, Women's Medical College, Philadelphia.

1920-21. Teacher, 'lJpgraded Classes, New York City School System.

Taught class of emotionally disturbed children ages 8-12.

1920 Assistant ~sychologlst, New York City Children's Hospital.

Group and ~ndividua1 tests of ability and achievement.

b. Public Service

1979 Invited ~dress: John B. 'Watson. American Psychological

Associat~n, Division 26. Toronto, Canada. August 1979.
1979 Invited ~dress: Reminiscences; Southern California
Behavior ~odification Conference. Los Angeles. February
16, 1979.

(65, p.2)-
 ·
.t~ C. J~nes June 1~ 19t

3. Experience, Public Service (continued)

1974 Keynote Speaker: A 1924 pioneer looks at Behavior Therapy.

Conference on Behavior Therapy: Fifty Years of Progress,
1924-1974, Philadelphia, November 1974.

1969 Invited Address: Albert, Peter, and John B. Watson. First

Annual Southern California Congress on Behavior Hodification.
Los Angeles.

1966 Invited Paper: Longitudinal studies of aging: The

California longitudinal studies. International Congress
of Gerontology, Vienna, Austria~ June 27-July 2, 1966.

1965 Correlates and antecedents of adult drinking patterns.

Paper presented at Western Psychological Association meeting,
Honolulu, June 1965.

1965 Address: A study of drinking patterns and personality

correlates. Commonwealth Club, San Francisco~ April 1965.

1963-64 President, Division of Developmental Psychology, American

Psychological Association.

Presidential Address: Psycho1rzica1 co~e1ates of somatic

development. Los Angeles, August 1964.

1963 Symposium Paper: Physical factors related to personality.

Society f~r Research in Child Development, Berkeley,
California, 1963.

1963-64 Consultant Endocrinology. Division. Program on Longitudinal

Research. Scripps Clinic and Research Foundation.

1962-63 Chairman, Membership Committee, Society for Research in

Child Development.

1961-62 Chairman,. Committee on Fellows, Division of Developmental

Psychology, American Psychological Association.

1952-60 Advisor, Pi Lambda Theta (Edu~ationa1 Honor Society).

1952 Consultant: University Explorer Radio Program, May 18,

1952, Children for Adoption.

1951 Member, Alameda County Citizens' Committee on Adoption.

1951 Representative to State Citizens' Committee on Adoption.

from Alameda County Committee, Los Angeles, Hay 1951.

1951 Coauthor Report of Study Group on Adoption, Alameda County

Council of the League of Women Voters.

1951 Member Planning Committee and Delegate to Workshop on

Adoption, University Extension, June 1951.

1951 Member, Berkeley Y.W.C.A. Teen Age Committee.

 , ....... .... ---_... - ... -
.-
.~ ~ " -~ .-.:- -~--

..
M.-, C. JQnes June 1.. 1980

3. ~xperience, Public Service (co~~inued)

1951 Section ~der, Youth and the family, San Francisco Family
Life Edu~~ion Committee.

1950, 1936 Address ~y invitation, national meeting of American Borne

Economic~ Association (San Francisco .. Seattle).

1950 Section ~der..Today's chUd in his famil)· and community.

Califor~ Youth Authority Yorkshop (published by California
Youth Autibority, 1950, pp. 39-45).

1950 Consulta~, Russell Sage Foundation on studies of adoption.

1949-50 Lecturer ~n Child Development.. San Francisco Family Life

Institute:..

1949 Chairman~ Committee on Nursery Scbool.Standards .. State

Departme~~ of Education.

1948-51 Member.. Bray Area Vassar Club Scholarship Committee ..

1948 . Member.. ~rd of Directors .. National Committee for Parent

Education...

1947 Advisory Committee, Children's Bureau .. Federal ~ecurity

Agency (c::iearinghouse Services for L:search in ChUd Life)
1947.

1947 Member.. Lnterdisciplinary Conference .. Culture and personality.

Viking F1I!!Ild.. New York.

1947 Member.. Asavisory Committee, Berkeley Mental·Health Associatior.

1945-50 Research reports at various meetings of the Western

PsycboloPcal Association.. and at the American Psychological
Associa~n (Philadelphia, Boston.. Denver).

1942-45 Member.. Ciommittee on Children in War Time, 'Berkeley Civilian"

Defense ~ogram.

Lecturer at numerous parent-teacher groups in northern and

southern California .. and consultant at city and county
Teachers· Institutes.

4. Recognitions

1969 A~ard .. Imstitute of Human Development, Fortieth Anniversary.

1968 C. Stan1~ Hall A~ard, Division of Developmental Psychology ..

American Psychological Association.
-
1960 President, Division of Developmental Psychology .. American
Psycholo~cal Association.

(65, p.4)
4. ~ecognitions (continued)

1946 Leader. Conversation-Contact Hour. American Psycho~ogical

Association.

1946 Diploma in Counseling and Guidance, American Board of

Examiners in Professional Psychology.

1926 Sigma Xi

1926 Del ta Kappa Gam

'1952 Pi 'Lambda Theta

s. Membership in Pr~fessional Organizations

Fellow, American Psychological Association'

Member, Western Psychological Association
Member, California State Psychological Association
Member, Society for Research in Child Devel9pment
Fellow, Gerontological Society

6. Publications

a. Books and Chapters in Books

Mid-Life ,Drinking Patterns: . Correlates and Antecedents. In D. H. Eichorn.

- J. A. Clausen. N. Baan, M.. P. Ronzik,·P. H. Mussen (Eds.), Present·
and Past .in Middle Life. New York: Academic Press (in press). gI 1'1
The course of human deve1C?pment. tlew 'York, N. Y.: John Wiley and Sons,
1971. (with N. Bayley, M. P. Honzik, and :J.. R. Macfarlane)

Individual differences in early adolescence. In IndividUalizing Ins·truction.

National Society for the Studr of Education Yearbook, 1962, Chapter 8.
(with H. E.. :Jones)

Research issues related to the effects of maternal employment on children.

Panel discussant (with seven other participants). Society for R.esearch
in Child Development, March 1961.

Adolescence. Chicago: Compton, 1958. (with H. E. :Jones)

Develo~mental psychology. University EA~ension, Berkeley, 1955.. R.evised

1956, 1960, with H. E. :Jones.

Crowth and behavior in adolescence. University of California Extension, 1957.

Revised 1960 with R. E. Jones; revised 1966.with L. :J. Alexander.

Physical maturing among boys as related to behavior. In R. C.. Kuhlen &

C. G. Thompson (Eds.), !sychological studies of huwAn development.
New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts. 1952. Pp. 40-49. (with N. Bayley)

Adolescence. Berkeley: University of Californi~ Extension Division. 1951,

p. 85. (with H. E. :Jones)
(65, p.5)
_1;._
 ..
M.~
..
C. Jones June I, 19o .

6. Publications, Books and Chapters in Books (continued)

Child psychology. Berkeley: University of California"Extension Division,

1951, pp. 131 + 8. (Revised edition, with H. E. Jones)

The elimination of children's fears. In W. Dennis (Ed.), Readings in general

psychology. New York: Prentice-Hall, 1949. Pp. 120-129.

Motivation and emotion: Fear of snakes. In W. Dennis (Ed.), Readings in

general psychology. New York: Prentice-RaIl, 1949. Pp. 130-137.
(with H. E. Jones)

Adolescence. In Encyclopedia of educational research. New York: Macmillan,

1950, Pp. 18-22. (Revised edition)
Child psychoio gy • Berkeley: University of California Extension Division,
1948, p. 130. (Lithoprinted)

The Institute of Child Welfare Interest Record. Berkeley: University of

California Press, 1944, p , 63. (Mimeographed)
.
Home, school and community. In H. E. Jones (Ed.), Development in adolescence.
Institute ~f Child Welfare, 19~1, p. 43. (Mimeographed)
, ,

Adolescence. In W. S. MOnroe (Ed.), Encyclopedia of educational research.

New York: Macmillan, 1941. Pp , 179-182.

Personality development in childhood. MonOgraphs of the Societx for Research

in Child Development, 1936, ~, 205. (with B. S. Burks)

Emotional development: In C. Murchison (Ed.), A handbook of child psychology:

Chapter VI. Worcester, Mass.: Clark University Press, 1933, pp. 271-
302.

Conditioning of children's emotions. In C. Murchison (Ed.), A handbook ~f

child psychologX: Chapter III. Worcester, Mass.: Clark University
Press; London: Oxford University Press, 1931, Pp. 71-93.

The development of basic emotions. In The emotional life'of the child.

Chicago: Association of Parent Education and Child Study, 1930. '

The prevention and treatment of children's fears. In V. F. Calverton &

rl,/jA. 193;0. »r-

44~-464.
~~~'2. "7:AiV~J">~o-')~' ~1fK'
'#.
S. D. Schmalhausen (Eds.), The new generation., New York: 1~~can~Y'
/7 ,nfLl ~l~! C?v<.d. ~ .
M' tV,
u.e-~ ,D. e ..A./v,L'~V>j~ ·f~4t)Jd,· /~i~)#l. JnUP, ~~4u..
Cont/ibuti~ to ~~I
I
b. Professio Journals (selected references)
, ~Q.
Review of E. X. Freed. An Alcoholic Personality, 1979. Chas.!. Slack Inc.
Tharofare, N. J. In Contemporary Psychology.

A 1924 pioneer looks at Behavior Therapy. Journal of Behavior Therapy and

Experimental Psychiatry, 1975, ~, 181-187.

Albert, Peter, and John B. Watson. American Psychologist, 1974, 29, 581-583.

Personality antecedents and correlates of drinking patterns in women. JournaJ

of Con~\llt"inC7 a nd Clinic.a.l P~vrholoQv_ 197]_ 36_ fll-f19_
M. C. Jones .lune 1. 198L
•

6. Publications, Contributions to Professional Journals (selected references)

Personality correlates and antecedents of drinking patterns in adult males.

Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 1968, 32, 2-12.

A report of three longitudinal studies at the University of California •

. _The Gerontologist, 1967, 1, 49-54.
,.
Psychological correlates of somatic development. Child Development, 1965,
M, 899-912.
A cdmparison of the attitudes and interests of ninth-grade students over "tWo
d~cades. Journal of Educational Psychology, 1960, 51(4), 175-186.

A study of socialization patterns at the high schoOl level. Journal of

Genetic"Psycho1ogy, 1958, 93, ·87-~11.

Self-conceptions, motivations, and interpersonal attitudes of ear1y- and

late-maturing girls. Child Development, 1958, 11, 491-501. (with
P. H. Mussen)

The behavior-inferred motivations of 1ate- and early-maturing boys. Child

Development~ 1958, 29, 61-67. (with P. B. Mussen)

An interdisciplinary approach to educational reseRrch. Educational Horizons,

June 1958. "

Adolescence. Chicago: F. E. Compton, 1958~ (with R. E. Jones)

. -
Self-conceptions, motivations and interpersonal attitudes of 1ate- and early-
maturing boys. Child Development, 1957, 28, 243-256. (with P. H. Musseri)

The later careers of boys who were early- or late-maturing. Child Development,
1957, 28, 113-128.

Rocking chair education. Vassar Alumnae Magazine, December 1955, 17-21.

Adventures in television: A new educational medium.- California M~nth1y,

1952,-24-25 & 59-64.

Physical maturing among boys "as related to behavior. Journal"of Educational

Psychology, 1950) 129-148. (with N. Bayley)

Attitudes toward family living. Journal of Home Economics, 1949, 41(9),

494-496.

Adolescent development in junior high school program. The High School Journal,
1949, 237-239.

Factors associated with prominence in extra-curricular activities at the

high school level. American Psychologist, 1949, ~, 251. (Abstract)

Adolescent friendships. American Psychologist, 1948, ~,353. (Abstract)

Differences in adolescent sex roles as revealed by colloquial speech.

American Psychologist, 1947, ~, 407. (Abstract)

(65, p.l)
k.~
. c. J.ones June l~ 19Eh

6. Publications, Contributions to Professional Journals (continued)

A functional analysis of colloquial speech among adolescents. American

Psychologist, 1946, !., 252-253. (Abstract)

Problems in child development. National Parent-Teacher, 1946, 41(4), 17-19.

(with H. E. Jones)

Some results from an "Annoyance Inventory" in a cumulative study of

adolescents. Psychological Bulletin, 1942, 39, 475-476. (Abstract)
(with H. S. Conrad)

Some personality characteristics. of boys with retarded skeletal maturity.

Psychological Bulletin, 1941, 1§(7), 603. (Abstract) (with N. Bayley)

The interests of adolescents.- Psychological Bulletin,. 1941, 38(8), 738.

(Abstract) -

Attitudes of youth toward "..a r and peace. California Journal of Secondary.

Education, 1941, 16, 427-430. (with B. E. Jones)

Guiding the adolescent. . Progressive Education, 1938, 15, 605-609.

'Vocational attitude patterns in- high-school students. Journal of Educational

. Psychology, 1938, li, 331-334. (with H. D. Carter)

~he junior high school age. UniversitI High School Journal, 1937, 15, 63-72.
- (with H. R. Stolz & J. Chaffey)

Leisure time activities of adolescents. Psychological Bulletin, 1933, 32,

538. (Abstract)

A multiple factor analysis of children's annoyances. Journal of Genetic

Psychology, 1935, 47, 282-298. (with B. D. Carter & H. S. Conrad)

The new child's introduction to the regime of the nursery scboo1. Report
on proceedings, Pacific Coast and Rocky MOuntain States Institute for-
the Orientation of State Supervisors of Emergency Nursery Schools.
Berkeley: Part V~ p. 18, 1934. (Abstract) .

A program for the measurement of adolescent personality. PSIchological

Bulletin, 1943, 31, 582. (Abstract)

Consistency and constancy of judgments of personality traits by sixth and

seventh grade children. PSIchological Bulletin, 1933, ~, 602.
(Abstract) (~~th C. H. Tryon)

Neo-natal behavior. Medical and Professional Women's Journal, 1933, 362-364.

Discovering all about things. Child Study, 1932, 10, 67-68. (with R. E.
Jones)

A two-year record of attendance and colds in a nursery school. Child

Development, 1932, 1, 43-52. (with H. S. Conrad)

The period of adolescence. California Parent-Teacher, 1932, 13 & 25.

).I; C. -lones
..
"

June I, 198,

6. Publications, Contributions to Professional Journals (continued)

The observation of food habits in young children. Childhood Education,

1930, Z' 14-17. (with S. W. Prentiss)
Crowth of mind. California Monthly, 1930, 22-25. (with B. E. Jones)

Genetic studies of emotion. Psychological Bulletin, 1930. ~ 40-64.

(with H. E. Jones)

The nur~ery school in relation to the health of "the pre-school child.

Hospital Social Service. 1930, 21, 142-1:48.

Treating fears at home. California Parent-Teacher, 1929, 6.

Fear. California Monthly, 1928, 2-4.

A study of fear. Childhood Education. 1928, 2.. 136-143. " (with R. E. Jones)

The development of early behavior patterns in young children. Pedagogical

Seminary. 1926, 33, 537-585.

A laboratory study of fear:" The case of Peter. Pedagogical Seminary, 1924,

31, 308-315".

The elimination of children's fears. Journal of Experimental Psychology,

". n . 1.f.2~~_Z, 382-390. ['j. ; ~.. " . C:' .-p- , .. ~'!
~~i q., ,w~l;~ 0r-tyf~~ t/~
"
7'. Addresses Clv-e'tf ~ ~ ~. Jq/2~ -:> I) #'1 311 "\ Q a.~. P . " ". I

Title Occasion ~

The Use of Psychological Delegate, Pacific Coast 1933

Measures in the Nursery Nursery School Association,
School National Association for
Nursery School Education,
Toronto, Canada

The Emo t LonaL Development National Association for October 31, 1935
of the Child Nursery Education, St. Louis

The Needs of the Adolescept University of California, .January 4,"1938

Agricultural Extension
Conference

Recent Research in Child Pacific Coast Nurs~ry School February 4, 1938

DevelopI!lent Association

Safeguarding the Child's California Congress of Parents Hay 23-27, 1938

Personality and Teachers Convention,
San Francisco

Wholesome Recreation in Progressive Education August, 1938

Childhood Association, Los Angeles

Problems of the Freshman Talk to Junior Counselors, . April 3, 1940

Counselor Yheeler Hall, University of
California. Berkelev (65, p.9)
 · .
il~. C.,
~ . .J-Qnes June r, 1

7. Addresses (continued)

Techniques in the Case University of Chicago Hay~ 1940

Study of Adolescents

8. 'War Services
a. . Committees

1. State Advisory Committee for Day Care for Children.

2. State Advisory Committee to 0'- C. D., Coordinator, ChUd Care

Services in Warti1:le (representing Committee for Training of
Preschool children).

3. Northern Califonrla Committee for the Care and Training of

Preschool Groups, Advisory to Committee on Health, Welfare and
Consumer Interests, State Defense Council (Chairman).

4. California Committee for llobilization of Trained Volunteers

for Care of Young Children in Defense Areas.

s. Advisory Committee, Alameda County Charitie,; .Commission, Child

Care Survey.

6." Eerkeley Defense Council subcommittee on Care of Children in

'Wartime (Chairman, Care of School Age Section).

7. The Berkeley Defense Council subcommittee on Recreation.

B. Advisory Committee, Girl Reserves, Eerke1ey Y. W. C. A.

9. Member, Assistance Section, Public 'Welfare Division~ Eerkeley

Defense Council •

.10.' Advisory Committee, Care of Children of Working Mothers, to

San Francisco War Manpower Commission. .

11. Oakland Community Cormnittee on Nursery Schools.

12. Advisory Committee, Mills College Intensive Training Course for

Directors of Child Care.

13. West Coast Committee, National Student Relocation Council.

b. Talks on Child Care Programs, Conferences, P--adio z etc.

1. Mills College Conference on Child Care. "Parent Education in a

Child Care Program," March 1943.

2. Northern California Conference on Child Care Services, called by

State Department of Education, January 1943.

3. P. T. A. Radio Series "l-1ar Nerves and Our Children," April 1943.

. . til" •

..
..

M•. C.. Jones June 1, 198

8. ~ar Services p Talks on Child Care Programs, Conferences, Radio, etc. (continued)

4. Alameda County P. T. A. Assembly. Talk on Child Care Facilities,

June 1942.

s. Leader, A. C. E. Workshop, "Developing Nursery Schools to Meet

Community Needs," November 1942.

6. Talk to Community Service Group, University Y. W. C. A. Community

Plans for Care of Children in Wartime, March 1942.

7. Talk to San Francisco Golden Gate Kindergarten Association, "How

to Safeguar~ My ChUd from Fear of War."

8. Participant: Bearing before the State Senate Interim Committee

on Economic Planning, Senators Kenny and W. Presiding'.

9. Discussion Leader, C. I. O. Conferences on Women in Indus'try, San

Francisco, Care of Children of Working Mothers. '

10. Participant, Round Table Discussion Day ~are for Children of

Working Mothers, Child Welfare League of America. First Western
Conference' .at California Conference of Social Workers, San
Francisco, April 1942.

11. Speaker at Rearing Sponsored by Mental Hygiene Association on

Child Care Bills up before the Legislature, ~anuary 1943.

c. Classes
1. University of California Department of Education, . Course on Care
of Children in Wartime, Summer Session, 1942.

2. Organized Course for Berkeley Y. w. C. A. Girl Reserves on Care

of Young Children.

3. Child Care 300. University of California Department of Education,

July-october 1943; October-March 1944; ~~rch-June 1944.

(65, p.ll)
From lcft to right: John Clausen. Marjor ie Honzik, Paul Mussen, Dorothy Eichorn. and
!';ormaHaan(deceased). . .

From Sears & Sears review, Lives in Berkeley (1982)

(66)
 Barbara's Mother's Day Poem

Hundreds of stars i~ the bright blue sky,

Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
But only one Mother the whole world over.

Lesley's Variation on the Theme

Hundreds of peepops on the lawn,

Six bees on the sundeck
Hundreds of robins cricking on the beans,
And Mother over all.

(67)
t·- -
f , ",

.WSPAPER FOR THE /-;

; MARY (COVER) JONES I

EXPECTED TO ARRIVE I
HERE ON SHORT STAY i
WiH Visit Parents, and ~fr. I
Mrs, C. B. Cover, of 437
I\apoleon Street
:1I11's. Mary (Cover) Jones. wife jof
Harold E. Jones, of the University of
California, Berkeley, Cal., is expected
to arrive in Johnstown tomorrow to
spend a day or two with her father and
mother. Mr. and Mrs. C. B. oover, of
;;37 :Kapoleon street. on her way to Ne,;
i York City and New Canaan, Conn.,
from where she w1ll go to Detroit,
I Mich. Both Mr. and Mrs. Jones are
psychologists with the University of:
California.
Mrs. .Jones comes from Chicago.
where she .was a-speaker this week at
a big conference. Her subject was
'''De'Velopment of the Basic Emotions:'
The Ch1cago ''Dally 'News" carries a
story about' the conference, stating
that Mrs. Jones was loaned to the con-
Terence from the University of Califor-
nia. where she is conducting research
work. The "Dailv News" states further
that "Mrs, Jones' has two children and
she has had unusual opportunities to
study 'basic emotions' through a group
of nursery school children, where she
has studied the cause and types of
fear:'
Mrs, Jones has not been in Johns-
town for about four years. She was
graduated from the Johnstov:Il High
School In 1915 and \TIt;: htcr graduated
from Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, 1'•. '
Y., and then secured her M. A. and
Ph. D dr grees at Columbia Un iversitv ,
New York.
•

The Johnstown Tribune

March 6, 1930

(68)
(69, p.2)
. . ... ~

.}i:~b~. ~, ._ . . ______ . .._~. . . i. _ _ .•... _ •.• __ • .• _ _ .• .. - -_ _._ ____.

.-.' . .,."",

- \
- o
-•.:t-

- . ~..... - . - 4 ·• .1·-.

.. .~~.
!
-- - - --.-\ "

t ..... ";
._ •• " :1
(69, p4) .
_ .... _-._- --- -_ .. _._- ---

" .
"i...

(69, p.5)
 EXCERPr FROM WrlO'S WHO OF AM
ERICAN \\O~ 191 9-1 980 *

COVER, MARY LEYltA;1'7 (M rs. Joh

n H. Co ver ), ar tis t, bo rn nea
r- Uakow, Pol and "
Ju1 y.~ ~, 190 6, dau ght er
WO jcie ch and Joz efa {R osz kie
wic z)L ajm ana ki, stu den t
Co rco ran Sch ool of Art ,C1 eve
la.n d Sch ool of Ar t. Ma rrie
, d Joh n H. Co ver
December 16 , 193 8. Wi th Ea
st A~iatic Co. of Co pen hag en
in Warsaw, 1n 3-2 5;
st.e nog r-ap her -, tra ns lat or Arn
. Co nsu lat e Ge n., Warsaw, 192
5-2 8; sec . wi th
Fli nt str uc tur al ste el Co .,
192 8-2 9; W.S. Ty ler Co ., Cle
vel and , 192 9-3 1;
as st. to comml., cou nse llo r
Po lis h Eb bas sy, Wa shi ngt on,
193 1-3 5; per son nal
off ice r eco n. res ear ch pro jec
t U. of Ch go. , 193 6-3 7; co-
W c..J:...- ~ {.-....--z,- found9~ Ar tis ts
Ma rt,) 19 5f: 68 ; one -ma n shows
Ar tis ts Ma rt Ga lle r;r, 196 0,6
7; exh ibi ted in
gro up sh o~ at Cle ve. Art In
st. , Po tte r & Me lle n, Te~ thi
rty Ga1le~,
Cle ve. , Co rco ran Ga lle ry, Mu
s. Na tur al Fis tor y, Na t. Co
lle cti on of Fin e
Ar ts, Ar tis ts Cocp , , Wa shi
ngt on, .An tioc h Th eat re, ote
n Ga lle ry, Ye llm r
Spr :tn gs, Oh io, Sp rin gfi eld
(Oh io) Ar t Ce nte r; pa int ing
s, scu lpt ure in
pv t , co lle cti on s. Re cip
ien t 1s t .ho n. me nti on, .2n d pri
ze in scu lpt ure
Co rco ran Sch ool of Ar t, 195
0, 195 1, 2nd pri ze in scu lpt ure
SoC ~ Wa shi ngt on
~rtists, 195 9; Mem. So c. Wa
shi ngt on Ar tis ts (C orr . sec .
195 8, v.p . 195 9,
pre s. 196 0, chmn, bd , 196 1).
Ad dre ss 2ll Fa irf iel d Pik e,
Ye llo w Sp rin gs,
OH 453 87.

* Be gin ing wi th Fir st Ed itio n,

195 8.

(70 , pp .l- Z)
 YELLOW SPRINGS NEWS ..
253 Y2 Xenia l\ve., rear
" (P. O. Box 1137)
Yellow Sprinq s, Ohio -45387
Forty year~ of pain~i~g ~nd sculptur~:
Mary· Cover: Art and serendipity
When ,Mary Cover lived in Washin gton,
D.C., she and lier husband , John,- joined
the Sycamo re Island Canoe Club - not for
the canoein g but because the club had on
its grounds on the Potoma c River the re-
mains of an enormo us walnut tree, and,
Mary Co~er wanted it.
Mrs. Cover is a sculpto r and.pai nter. To-
day, a big chunk of the black walnut tree-
in a prize-w inning sculptu re titled "Refu- '
gees" - is in her studio at the Cover home
on Fairfiel d Pike. Also in the studio is
"Rootfo rm," a sculptu re cut from one of
the tree's roots. In the livingro om is "Com-
position in Black Walnut ." formed from
three pieces of the same tree.
Mrs. Cover sought out the black walnut
tree, but much of her work during her
four-plu s decades as an artist has been
created frOm "found" objects.
Mist Mary Cover, in ~er workshop-gallery at home
Repr inted with perm issio n of the
Yello w Sprin gs News , Yello w Sprin gs, OR.
8/6/8 6
i, ': Yell~:.v Springs:NewS", February 1O. 1982-3 '
,
~,
~'South "Wind...• once the centerp iece of She was born in Poland, came to the
d to Poland
a group exhibit at the Smithso nian Museum , U. S. as' a child, then returne years. Back in the
of Natura l History , is made from two palm for most of her school variety of "office"
fronds she found in the streets of Berkele y, United States, she had a lized with tu-
Califor nia, after a storm. A recent sculp- jobs until she was hospita
ture, "Compq ,sition in Found Objects ," is berculo sis.
made of drif~ood, a giant spring, and the
generat or fan from Mrs. Cover's old Cor- During her recuper ation, her future hus-
vair. ' band brough t her five pounds of modelin g
fashion ed into a small head,
She has also created several wall pieces - clay, which she
paintin gs ard= collages - on aluminu m John Cover was so impress ed with the
window screens, She "found" the screens piece that he been brough t her 50 pounds of
sculptin g and paintin g
when they were replace d by new storm clay. She has
window s at the Cover house. ever since.
"You have to be free to accept serendi pi- In 1940, she entered the Corcora n School
ty," Mrs. Coyer says. . '-"
of Art in Washin gton, studyin g sculptu re
t1:rs. Cover, who is '15, began to work with Robert Lauren t and Heinz Warnek e.
serious ly as an artist when she was in her Warnek e, who looked at her first compo-
early thirtles . Before that, she says, "I was sition and asked how she had' the <''nerve
more interest ed in dancing and music. And to attemp t such a comple x piece, frighten ed
in having a good time." her so much that she "switch ed to draw-
ing and paintin g" so she wouldn 't have to
face him - althoug h he did tell her to
"ke~p up with your courage ."
Today, she looks at the piece - a woman
and swan - and says, "After all these
years, I still lik~ .i::'.I..!-has lasted well."
The Covers have lived in Yellow Springs
sino.e the mid-six ties. Mary Cover had first
heard about the village when she met some
Antioch ians in Clevela nd in 1929 and de-
cided Antioch must be a special school.
"The student s were so much more mature
than other student s I knew then," she says.
Mrs. Cover visited Yellow Springs in
1944, staying with friends while her bus-
band was oversea s (he'd been to the vil-
lage .earlier while workin g on a project
with Arthur Morgan ). "When John de-
cided to retire, he didn't know where he
wanted to live," she says. "I suggest ed Yel-
low Springs . Td always thought I would
like to live here some day."
, T~day" the Cove~' house isa small art
gallery, display ing not only Mary Cover's
varied works but also painting s and sculp-
tures by other artists with whom she has
sometim es swappe d piec es.' .
Yellow Springs residen ts can see 15 of
Mary Cover's works at an exhibit opening
this week at theilee n brown gallery at
Yellow Springs Center Stage on Dayton
Street. The exhibit will be open' Friday,
through Sunday and next Thursd ay through
Sunday during pe:forn: 'an,ces of Center
Stage's La malad!! nnagma lre.
-Doug Hinkley
(70,p .2)'
 Kids of the
I
chorus, here performing an Austratian
.
medley, were audience favorites at the Spectacular.
........, (Staff photo by David Christenson)
'-I
2nd from the left: Laura (Coates) Pauli
..... (b. 6/21/78)
'-'
 Monday, April " 1963 .

Diary of A
Dairy pJ~ife.
By LOUISE HILL
A young mother writes me ,
that her inquisi tive· son is,
· wearing out a differen t sut of i
! pages in the encyclo pedia in:
his new stage of growth . '
The well worn pages of "F"
for frog are discard ed for I
"F" for Franke nstein; wo- j'

wolf has replace d weasels

and worms; '''D'' leads, right
to Dracula and Dragon s. She
· takes it with a resigne d sigh
: and a mother 's eternal hope
, that maybe the next "stage"
· will lead to more conform ity.
At least the encyclo pedia is
well' worn, .'';:'.1''';'-
. StilI, "Ogden Nash says. if
· you want to please a child
you don't "write him a lot of
smooth . pretty. stories; "you
go out ana have yoursel f eat-
en by a bear. . ." . ," ',..
The same mother with the
· horror Iovina son. writes Taken from the
about a lovelv fishin« trio Merc ed Sent inel Star
into the mounta ins the family
· had had. They wanted to stay
overnig ht but, couldn 't be·
cause among the six of them
(four childre n) they couldn' t
find 36 hours withou t meet-
ings. Isn't that too bad. No'
wonder werewo lves were in-
vented.
'" '"
A woman'" who was trying
. on a brand new gas well and
! accusto ming herself with the
affluen ce it provide d was eat-
in~ dinner in one of these
darken ed rooms that only af-
fluence can enjoy. Trying to
determ ine just what she was J
eating she said "Goodn ess i
me, it seems the more money 'I
one has the less light one
gets; now we're down to
dIe light."
can-I
J And isn't it funny how hard
it is to get a glass of mille I
with a three dollar dinner. !
The walters act as if that
glass of milk would break
them-n ot to mentio n the
stare that asks what kind of
"a monste r drinks milk any-
way.
I$< If' ..

Ons of life's saddest rno-

mcnts: Spend hours cleanin g, I'
1
dustin~, moppin g, lll~n when'
i cornnan v is comjor tsh.y seat-
ed YOU spot a dust mouse i
l under the far chair. It escap- '
. ed. Thev're snea k v thing-s. '
i But maybe the gIH'c;( won't
I notice.
I
, I wonder if the n1:11l who'
i wanted to live Iv' it1e. S.'derq (72, pp.1 -3)
: the road so badly ever knew
: how dustv it r'1n I,a
 &4 - - : -- . - ,
Probert, ~ecret~ry; Mrs. B.' H. Hill (sun~St~r: Dpi'ry Wife' "
- f "" .' t .' ..
Delegates of the Merced~Mariposa Caw-Belles were in
'thel spotlight during their organization's Statewide col um n i st1- pu bIi citrdrafmn,YI-;-'CafTfo'rni a~ Cow- Belies;
se~ted, Dorottf HUle,- consumer education anp mer-
meeting held- in San Francisco recently. In addition to
chandising 'dirfctor in Southern California for the Cali-
routine ma~ers, the delegates set the framework for fornia Beef -Cbuncil; Mrs. Russell Peavey, president,
,beef promotional activities for the coming year. Cow, . California Co_'.BeJles; Mrs. James Probert, president,
.belles are the women's auxiliary of the California Merced.Maripcra Cow-Belles, , :: ' _ .:;",;- '.~ .'
CaHlemen's Association. ,Show" in the photo discussing
the planned activities are, left to right: Standing, Mrs.
E. K. Lundy, beef promotion chairman, Merced-Mari-

_.-
;' paso Cow-Belles; Richard' J. Nolan, western represen-
tatIve. National Livestoc\c;and Meat Board; ,Mrs. Jack
(72, p.2)
 :?~i)iJiy"(jfAij~ij.Jtfhf£
.~ -, . .
."
.

LOmS E HILL AND TWIN LAMBS

(72, p.3)
"
Louise C. Hill

When my husband land I retired to the mountains we knew

'If
we would be involve~it~· birds. We wanted~that way. We planted

our gArden with birds in mind. We p~t out grain feeders for the

winter visitors, inviting red sugar-water for the hummng birds

in summer' and nature provides grasshoppers, worms, insects f'o r

"the insect eaters in SUL'1JIler.

What we didn't expect was an adversary in the bird world.

Especiiiit a little half-pint minature. One who thinks he is an

Napoleon and proves it. I'm talkingg about that cute, tail-
S'·T.~
letttl .PA..-
in-the-air, busy-body, law singing, insect eater, fisty little

house wren.

The Bewick's "tvr('n built h t s nest in a box full of junk

out by the studio. All he asks is to be let slone. But not

the House ~Ten. He has large territoral demands and he defen~

them Fiercely. The world is his and in songs Bnd scolds he

warns ~he other birds, all birds, "keep out".He means it and

c ar-r'Le s out his threats~bj distreying ohei1~ lIest~ r.-nd Qggs .-

Ma l,e hous s wrens..; in the spring)bui Id or establish six

or so nesting sights. One authority says this is to confuse

(73, pp.1-9)
 -2-
Louise C. Hill

other bi~ds. Others s~y it is to give his ~pte who returns from

the south later than he a choice of ~nesting sights. She builds

~~ ~ L.J4
~0st of ~h~nest while he sings ~ both care for the young.
'1 I
Usua11y she settles for one of three ~ests custom buill! for her

bytthe man of the housetut Sir Wren claims an e~clusive rights

to a large territory. (Most all birds establish territories for

vhd ch they fight during nesting periods presumably to maintaim

~
an adequate food~for their young).
~~
The wren atte.pts dominBnce by distroying other~nests and
within
eggs, putting twigs ~ or on top of other bird's nests (actual

measurement of wigs is 4-11 inches whdLe the wren measur-ee ~

.J:-, -M'~,
4!-5~ inches, , colossal featl) all the time singing lQ~a~.

In one blue bird hous-e. he-pecked a hole in each of tne five

eggs then put twigs on top. Bther blue bird houses he filled

"Jith t'\o.rigs makdng entr~nce hole too snaLL for blue bird to

enter. Even the grosfbpck, almost ~·ice the vr en t s size had

three eggs pecked ann tossed on the\?;round. House finch are

common victims.
(73, p.2)
 -3-
Louise CHill

A ye~r ago a wren tossed from their nest three n8wly

h~tched oriole, chicks. My hus~nd replaced them. We ~alked

around the house, c~lle back and there '\.·'ere the ehr-e e naked

babes on the grOUndrgain. The wren was singing his song of

triumph above the nest.

In spite of their harassment to the birds and us ~

.
anim&ted
find ourselves smil\ing at these cocky bits oftfe?thers. When

v-e go a boutour gardening ~:ss in the morning they ~re

literally und€r foot~ scolding h8rshly as they follow us around.
1s challenging
Obviously he~eb:Jeftgi~ us as intruders to HIS territory.

Perhaps HIS "territory is becommin~~oo crowded with "foreign"

birds and people §o who can blame him for fighting for more

"free space". As '1 write this I watch him inspecting a hole

i~ an old apple tree. After all his scientific mame is

Troglodylidae which m~ns cave dwellers so I hope he is happy

,,'i'th 8- cave in the tree for his second or third nesting. I

hope he is tired of beingt pugnacious, quarrelsome and will

leave the rest of the vo r Ld .!"lone.

1Jr,
\~
a ~
{ 1
-te s;

(73, p.3)
 4 Louise C. Hill

The only other real fighter we have among our bird friends
transient
are the humming ~birds. At present a male Bnd female,ftufOUs

hum~ngbir1rominate two feeders fighting one another as well

as the Annas. But that is a species wer. Belligerency is a

way of life with all hu~ers. These darting jewels are welcome

guests. Our only concers is with distructive little bullies.

Watch it little wren. Our tolerance may wear tbin.

(73, p.4)
• r
(1)

Loui se C. Hill
(Ex DRir y Wi£e)

We cleane~ Lhew indow n this morn ing. I'm not syre i£ it was~ t

sprin g £eve r or if we just want to make sure we see

the firs t blue

"ird . The tit mouse is alrea dy sci;lI oung ing aroun d for mate
rial

for her np.SL. She is recyc 1in6 l~5t year s orio le nest fro~ ~e

mulb erry tree . The India n varr i~rs have finis hed ~~r po~- p~

und~ r ~"e pine ~Fee s and will rest unti l next s~in g call s a coun cil.

It is sprin g lJp Yond er .nd -the earth is respo ndin 6 'to

its
us
own ~giC t~e ta~le. All nabu re invi res~ BUt of the i~p ri~ ~~

of -the hous e thatt.. has groy,'n too 5I1t8' 1 -this wini- er. Turn
o££ the

ubiq uitio us ~V. Forg et for a whil e our hUffiR D probl ems and tune

an ear and hear t to..n ature . Line B, .ee and enjo y.

All wint er ~ have ¥ishe d for sno~ to gliss en ~he pine s,

sile.. nee, ~·he \Q:)'rld ca.~ hide ~an' s clut ter if just. .fer
ii. daY. BuL

none came . NO~Tas if' -to appe ase us sprin g' ~ snow dr:)p~ cove r -the
~
hi 11 side . As I walk tot{b ·1liail 00'1-- they edge the rOdd side and

see~ tl:!' nod, s gree ting. I nOd back -f::rying to forg et t'he gree tilli

and ~he wisp ering of swee t n~hi ngs that I he~r are ~he ~ind s

play ful mood and not sone hidde n elf.

(73, p.5)
 (2)

Louise C. Hill

A walk in t~ w~ods and I see one ting Johnny-Jump-Up where v

once they formed a carpet. I bid it be brave in its loneliness

and produce ~ny seeds that others may enjoy their shy beauty neyt

year. Its time to grub in the soil and feel its healing power in

our hands. We plant a humMing bird sage with visions of humming

birds flocking around it co~e next year. a blue jay scolds from

the showing-pink apple tree and the nosy house wren flits close by.

We are in his territory and he lets us know it. I wish this mite of

feathers ~ren' t so cute anr' saucy. He is a. villi~n. A ··dapper,

cocky, proud villian. He defends his territory against all feathered

intruders even unto house stealing.

~~
~ Its time to lister for the grosbeak whosf so~e is so like the
flP}.\ tf." L, ~ (~::I
_.

robing. Their nest is so untidy hut his song is so cheerfu~ h~pe

he will be our neighblrs again this year.

Our own household chores become tedious. An eycuse ~ close

the door behind the~ ~s welcoaed--- ·we wender out to get a bay

leaf for the stew and find the poppies are giants this year due to

thf r~ins. The wild holly that we pl~nLed and WQndeYed it it would

grow is bursting into bloom. Cricket, the burro is fat from

(73, p.6)
 (3)

Louise C. Hill

Cricket, t.he bburrow, is f~r from lush grasses;' and a life of

idleness. The ducks feel~e sprine s-nd lay II dBily egg -for our

french t oast., Convenr.Lona I J ert}' Makes hers wh:l, te f M9.y chases green

for her~f ~he shell ~~ is.

It!s spring. The oriole has returned,the willOlVS are.. geen.

r~8+ure Lnvf r es ytI1l to ,~come alive \td.:f:h her and let a new t"a1th

Go ,-touch the 5011, u:>ok Bt:· the dew.

·6'i.ist.·~niiJg ~irired •.... S~and for a MOiftent before ~e lichen covered

pock. '\iPords~rth say&~ ·,Earfoh fil~s her Lap wi. t;h ploa£fl.res of her
\. " fJ \,' \,

oun". . 'But, how g:e.ner:nis she is if \-"e.. wall e ccepe- her pJ.ecam.res.

(73, p.7)
Louise Cover Hill's Handiwork

(73, p.8)
 "

,.. (j ._.... -(f . 'n _.. A

--tf:!J-co"~~-J
'-------.
!
---._- ~- r...
-_... .:"'- rl
~,·'4

rARDY ARBOR DAY ~ Thfee group~ engaged in the ·'tai'dy·~rbor day"

planting of trees at Stephen Leonard Park Monday. Mrs. B. H. (Louise)
Hill, representing the Merced Garden Club, scoops dirt around her tree
while Ted Smith, president of the ?rIerced Breakfast Lions, and Terry
Passarino, a member of the ?rlerced High School Future Farmers of Am-"
'erica, lean on their shovels. The three organizations planted seven trees. .
, ~ . (Snn-Star Photo)

(73, p.9)
 ...
Releesed Sept. 3C-Oct. 6, 1.945

---- ---- ---- -_. _-- --

Clocking 0,1 Bo\v/ing 'Babies in Nursery
May Save Lives of Newly Born Infa nts :
By MART HA G. MORR OW
Science Servjce Stat! Writer .
How much does a newbo rn baby cry?· Answe rs.' will 'vary
from the harass ed papa'S
"Does he .ever stop crying ?" tll the proud mama 's "My baby
never cries." Scient ists have
the answe r. They clocke d the crying of babies under two
weeks old and find they c~
for 113 minut es, or almos t t w o "hours, each day. ~
The lives of many newbo rn babies may be saved becaus e Dr..
't' : .: ~
his associ ates of the Mayo Cli-llie timed the babies ' bawlin C. Ander son Aldric h and.
pital nursery .
g period s in a moder n hos-'

These phYSICIH ••;> ~la.1 Cr)" Lesa a.&. BODle

are studyin Jl the cryini habits of
thl' vcry young in the hope of
learnin g how to save the lives of
some of these individ uals at a
must import ant and critical stage
of their growth . In spite of all
the care given them today, more
babies die during the first two
weeks of life than at any other
period.
The chance s are less than
0.14 %. the doctors figure. that
more than half of the babies in
the nursery will be crying simul-
taneous ly. There is a fifty-fif ty
chance that when one of the proud
papas walks into the nursery . or
regards his prodigy ' throug h the
show window , not more ,than one
out of every 10 babies. or perhap s
even less. will be crying at that
particu lar momen t. The bawler
probab ly won't be his.
Despite the impres sion of par-
ents of twins and triplets , crying
did not appear to be contagi ous
from one young babT to another .
Study of the babies' cries
showed that the calmes t hour of
the nursery day is at 10 •. m.,
when the nursery ' is fully .tal!ed,
the babies fully fed, anQ the
smaller needs of the infant more
comple tely satisfie d:' The babies
voiced their discom fort most loud-
ly from 10 p. m, throuih 2 a. m.,
when only two studen t nurses
were present to care for the 30
babies in the nursery .
'Worrie d fathers .' particu larly
those who look forward to having
a first child. need 'not fear they
will be kept awake many hours
e...ch night by these squirm ing,
squ...l ling . bundle s of human ity.
Babie~ cry much ~ whO!tr-th1e:t-
are brough t home where more
prompt , loving attentio n is given
to their cry signal than is pOSSible
in a nursery .
The cry of the newbor n has an
I:lItU'ely differe nt meanin g from
mat of a four-ye ar-old in a tem-
per tantrum or the weepin g of an
adult, Dr. Aldrich slates.
though purely a reflex act, baby
Al-
uses it to warn his parents of his
need.
It is this which Ieads Dr.
Aldrich and. associa tes to hope
that study of the newbor n's cry-
ing will bring import ant new in-
formati on on how better to meet
Uu: vital needs of wants and thus
guard better their perilou s first
two weeks of life.
Baby's first cry starts the ex-
p ...nsion of his lungs and breath-
ing begins. ALter the first 10
d"ys or two weeks, howeve r, it is
110 longer correct to say he needs
to cry to exercis e his lungs, for
by that time his lungs lire fully
infta ted, I
JunIor automa tica lly beg ins to
cry whenev er he is hungry , cold,
wet or in pain. When he hears
loud sounds or loses his equilib -
rium, he rna)' let out a yell. He
will probab ly whimp er a little
when he feels the need of fond-
ling.
,
Show Bab)" Some Attenti on
For about a generat ion mother s
have been WArned not to pick
the new baby every ,time he cries
UPI
i,.'r...1f.2r. he .w_o_u1d cry Whenev er
he wants to be cuddled.
The idea that the baby
who stops cry-
i ng when picked up is "spoile d"
I nay sound plausib le• -poi nts out
I;)r. Aldrich , but it is not sound.
It is high'ly improb'ab)~' tf!'i1I· a-'
~ewb?rn baby can have .enouzh
Intellig ence to lie in bed and
figure out that it he cries he will
be fondled .
. Baby may cease crying when
given attentio n merely because
fondlin g is gratify ing to him even
in his automa tic stage. To stop
crying is undoub tedly anothe r re-
flex of the newbor n.

(74, pp.1 -2)

 Bab)' Helps Plan Routlne
Many new mothers are terrified
the first night home from the hos-
Pital when they have to take over
the care of the Infant with no one
around to give directions. But
that helpless, fragile-looking thing
will himsel! insist on aiding you
to plan his routine and life. He is
quite capable of telling you what
he wants even though. he: can't
talk. Crying is baby's most use-
ful method of attracting attention
-he uses very distinct cries for
dtffe-rent t h i n g s . ,
That harsh, persistent cry, re-
peated with such fervor that the
bll'7}rtt~JaVy" ",'imn.~ .L~ .\'!~r
has momentarily lost his breath,
.hr
simply means he is hungry, ac-
cording to the Illinois State Medi-
cal Society. He distinctly wants
you to know it's mealtime. The
cry comes at regular intervals
.since he gets hungry at regular
I intervals.
ThE" healthy, thriving baby
whose mother follows the doctor's
advice about when and what to
feed him usually does not cry for
Jood unless mother Is a liltle late
with the meal. Should he start
the hunger cry well ahead of
mealtime or after he has been-
fed, ask the doctor whether baby
needs bigger or more frequent
feedings. Don't just feed him'
every time he cries. I causes. He now cries. these P51·
. The cry or pain is usually sharp
and agonized. If the baby draws
his knees up and holds his thighs
'close to his stomach, it may mean
Ihe has colic. The colic cry gen-
erally comes at a regular time of
day or night. The pathetic cry
may also be caused by earache.
In either case or whenever the
J:o~by's cry seems to be a disturb-
i"l( one of pain. a doctor should
ble called.
Whimper ShoW'S DiscomfOrt
A wail or whimper, W1th no
uLrgency in..the tone and re!ts be-
t#....een may merely be used to tell
';''1 he is uncomfortable. Baby
t>\lj be wet; he may be ~ hot
or too cold. He may have
."!timed into a peculiar plsition
IlL his crib or gotten hi! clothes
\f\,COmfortably bunched under
!'him. Th~ sun may be ,shining
~n his eyes or he rnay bt over-
t\~. Too much playing or too
... ~y people handling him before
~goes to sleep will olteJi make
,1,\1..-., tired and c:rosa. .
~ntll rapidly beoomb1~ 9-:
hausted by th~ new babY'sfre-1
quent crying can look forward to
the time when he will be~
months old. This i.!I the month
I
when babie! do the least cry!ng, i
.or. Mary Cover Jon~ and Dr. I
Barbara S. "BurKS-rOund in re-
search at the University at Cali-
fornia's Institute of Child Wel-
fare.
Before baby 1.+ four monlhs old
he .crres because of Internal hurts
anC: bodif.y needs such as h unger
and 'other discomforts. Alter th~
relatively guietJourrh ~ , dif-
ferent ; reasons prompt his cries.
He is older, take! more Interest
in the world around him and his
crying is stimulated by external
chologists explain, chien, because
he wants to be picked up and.
petted. Or he may be angry at!
being put down. . .
(C~ght, 1945. Sci"'-Ct StTVice)
I
(74, p.2)
· .. _., "'.

Studying the Charaoteristics of Friends

T:he U. C. Adolescent Growth Study followed the same

group of ohildren as they went through the same junior and
senior high sohool together. This provided an opportunity for the
study of friendship groupings over a period of years.
The number of pairs eaoh year varied from 24 to 28 for
the girls and from 19 to 20 for the boys.
We ~ compare b friends on a number of variables.
~hese included: (1) anthropological measures, suoh as age,
weight, height, various measures of body build and strength:
assessments of maturity based on ratings of axillary and pubic
hair and on X~rays of wrists and knees; (2) intelligence test
scores based on a variety of individual and group measures
administered over a period of 7 years; (3) achievement test scores;
(4) home ratings of house, grounds and neighborhood, made by
several home visitors during this period; (5) personality variables
from self-report inventories and ratings of observational data.

(75, pp.l-S)
·. -2-

Examining the thirty-one variables ror the boys and

girls separately, it was noted that positive correlations were
always found for age, intelligence, ratings or maturity of
axillary and pubic hair; achievement in reading, arithmetic and
history, in adult ratings of attractiveness and poise. No
variables gave consistently negative correlations over the 7
year period.

Sex differences wera consistently found in two areas:

For boys, positive correlations were always found in all
physical traits, such as body build, grip and strength. For
girls, higher correlations were always found on home ratings,
which reflect socio-economic status.

Since the data for this sample was cumulative, some

trends appeared. During the first 5 years, as physiological
development became more pronounced, there was an increase in
similarity among friends in regard to maturity ratings on the
bases of pubio and axillary hair. As the acceleration in
growth tapered off, around 16 years of age, correlations
were lower, indicating that less importance was now attached
to this factor.

In regard to home ratings, there was a decrease in

similarity for both boys and girls when they left the 6th grade.
The correlation for boys remained low. But for girls from the
8th grade through the 12th grade, there was a substantial rise
in the correlations. As we have found from other data, there

(75, p.2)
 -3-

is a tendency in the early junior high school years for children

to sample more Widely among friends. ~b1s tendency is most
noticeable in the 8th grade and it is at this time that oorre-
lations are lowest. Howevsr, although the oorrelations for
both sexes follow this pattern, they are always higher for girls
than for boys. Since girls ara more ftprotected ft or more
strenuously groomed to maintain family status, it is not sur-
prising that our oorrelations reflect this similarity of back-
ground for girls more than for boyso

Changes in correlation for intelligence seem to be

related to school administrative prooedures. When this group
enterad junior high in the 7th grade, sections were assigned
on the basis of ability. In the 8th grade, students were
assigned to classrooms on the basis of social maturity. In the
9th grade, oollege preparatory courses began, thus again
forcing a division be tween those who did aid those who did not
plan to go to college. A rise in correlations among friends
for intelligenoe and achievement in the 7th grade, a drop in
the 8th, and a rise again in the 9th grade may reflect new
classroom alignments whioh influenoed friendship groupings.
It is demonstrable that within the framework of neighbor-
hood background and class sectioning, similarity between friends
is due to propinquity as much as to active selection of chums.
But it is also obvious that within the population available,
some youngsters are drawn to each other more positively than
others.
(75, p.3)
 -4-

~he many factors affecting these personal ohoices are

not readily determined by ,any approach, but friendship histories
provide enlightening clues.
The vicissitudes of friendship choices may be illustrated
in the case of five boys who started out as friends in the
elementary school year. At the beginning of the study they
were 10~ with only 4 months difference between them in age;
they were all above average in ability, with only 10 points
difference in I.Q.. They were healthy, lively youngsters from
good homes, doing well in school and enjoying life in general.
So firm was the association that even though they were separated
in junior high school classrooms, they continued to mention each
other as best friends until the 8th grade. Then came separations
which appeared to be mainly due to a difference in social maturity
and in rate of physiological development. Bob, the most advanced
in skeletal assessment, was also socially most mature. He pulled
ahead of the group at this time in social status and remained at the
top in this respect. How were the other four boys affected, what
adjustments did they make in the next four years? One, Nelson, became
a runner-up--somewhat of a fringer--to Bob's prestige group, al-
though they continued to be best friends throughout the school years.
Nelson was slightly below average in physical maturity during this
period and less sure of himself in social situations. However,
by dint of greater effort, which our observers often noted, he
was able to keep up with Bob and to be included in his crowd.

(75, p.4)
 -5-

Harry~ the least physically mature of the five~ but

equally interested with Bob and Nelson in social activities~

was not able to meet the social requirements in mixed group

situations with the same maturity as Bob or Nelson. He was
dropped by his erstwhile friends, had a short period of dis-
appointment over this rejection, but soon found an equally
immature companion with whom he was happy. In fact, be prob-
ably functioned more easily in this new situation than his
old friend, Nelson, who just managed to make the higher status
group and had to work to stay there.
A description of these three at a dance in the 11th
grade, one of numerous similar instances which could be
quoted, reveals their maturity differences:
Bob was described as Mmaintaining a calm, fairly apathetic
attitude toward the giggling of the girls. He was poised,
unself-conscious, competent in steering his partners around
the floor, sdultly inconspicuous." nNelson," it was reported,
"danced in a strangely crab-like fashion, holding his partner
almost at a right angle to himself; he occasionally broke into
uninhibited trucking." His behavior was of the pseudo-
sophisticated variety, which he had affected in an effort to
counteract his lack of social assurance. "Harry, chewing gum,
looking somewhat bravely worried, traded dances with other boys
as the younger crowd usually do. His inexperience made him
overly eager to conform to the accepted rituals; he covered
up pauses in conversations by nervous giggles and 8kiddish"

(75, p.5)
 -6-

tricks like shadow-boxing." These three of the original group

of school friends were, in genera1 6 following the accepted
adolescent social pattern, but with behavior appropriate to them
as indi viduals.
~here are still two of the original five friends un-
accounted for. One of these 6 Walt 6 was nearly as accelerated
in skeletal age as Bob. As p~-adolescents6 the two had in
common a predisposition to chubbiness which 6 perhaps6 led them
to select each other as partners for the physical examination.
Through the 7th grade they were both rated by physicians as
definitely above average in subcutaneous fat 6 definitely below
average in muscle tone. By choice, the high 7th was their last
physical examination together. Bob's next physical examination
read: loss of weight, increased muscle tone. ~his improve~ent

continued. Walt's weight and muscle tone remained aberrant and,

most significant, his records showed feminine distribution of
fat, and at one period marked Froelich syndrome. Bothered by
his developmental status 6 Walt embarked on a period of unpleasant
behavior which embarrassed and alienated his former friends. For
a time during this disturbed period Walt seemed happiest in the
company of older men. Mother reported he couldn't learn to swim.
~he last of these five is Phil, whose physical development
was slightly advanced and could have been a social asset. But
Phil was not psychologically ready for the mixed group activities
of his age-mates. He selected as a new friend a boy who, like
himself, might be described as relatively asocial. At a party
in the 8th grade, Phil, during a game of wink, was judged to be
"happier when it was the girls' turn to take the initiative.

(75, p.6)
 -7-

When the girls finally insisted upon dancing, he fled to the

office and practiced typing, returning later to playa game of
chess with his friend~ Pierce.~

Phil reveals his own orientation in a loth grade auto-

biography: I have always been interested in books of all
kinds •••• Places a~ usually more interesting to me than people
when there is something to find or do in them, especially when
there is ~ater.

This discussion gives just a hint of the forces at work

in making and breaking friendships. Although these chums
continued to live in the same neighborhood and to go to the
same school, differences in developmental rate and fundamental
personality factors altered their compatability.
Another companionship which was dissolved during the
period of rapid adolescent growth was that of Joe and Wallace.
In elementary school these boys were small, skinny, wiry,
intensely curious, interested and investigative. They
usually took a leading part in activities. The two boys made
a close team with Joe appa~ntly dominant, but nevertheless
appreciative of Wallace's intensity of interests which sometimes
served as Joe's sparkplug. Both boys remained small, almost
puny, as their associates grew up around them. Joe, first to
to feel keamly his physical disadvantage, desert5d Wallace, to
pursue the favor of more mature boys. A little later, Wallace
followed the same pattern of attaching himself to and identify-
ing with boys of mo~ mature social status. They called each

(75, p.7)
 -8-

other derogatory names" such as "'Biddy" and "pea-wart ft to

designate small size and puny build. Although the boys con-
tinued to go to the physical examination together, each was noted
as trying to oultivate boys in the group with more prestige and
to be ourious about the letters' mixed group activities, although
unable to tackle such situations themselves. For example, this
observation was recorded: "Both boys hung over Ray (an older
boy) asking when he had shaved last. When he answered, 'This
morning,' Joe said admiringly, 'Gee, you'd never know itl !hey
quizzed him about how he spent his time, about his girl" and so
forth. fl.

By the age or 16, this partnership had broken up entirely.

In their social relationships, Wallace and Joe round their own
similar inadequacies a barrier to mutual admiration. Selr-
deprecation forced them into roles of subserviant hero-
worshippers of more adequate individuals. Until greater selr-
assurance was re-established, warm companionability was not
possible for these boys.
Examples of rriendship histories such as these illustrate
the oomplexities of underlying compatability in adolescent partner-
ships. Like human relationships of all kinds, and for all ages"
the contributing factors are numerous and of varying importance
and subtlety. Some of these influences can be expressed by
correlational techniques; some are susceptible to analysis
only by painstaking study of particular instances over a ps'riod
of time; some evade understanding by the most insightrul scrutiny.

(75, p.8)
 C1rtificate of appreciation
to J)r 1l2(lr~ Lover . B'ones
for presenting tne r yst .
.cducuttonul course on
.televisicn Jar college credit
on the 'Melfic. eoast. .
J4.1~G?~..
'J{d'RO£'j) ~ Sf,f,
f)\}'RfJeJO'R of :J£JI9&'Vl}S~O'l2
I
I
(76) ,
 cuu Psycho!ogy • A TELEVISION C'OURSE
• • • • • •
• • • • • • • JOT parents, teachers, and others who share a real interest in child grC?\Jvth
.
and development.
. . ' ,-

This new ventu re in television has been under taken

as part of the Unive rsity's progra m of makin g its resources
availa ble to the comm unity throug h Unive rsity Exten sion.
The value of television as a teachi ng device has been demon -
strated in the armed forces and at several universities in'
other parts of the countr y. Since the qualit y of tomor row's Dr. Harol d E. Jones
citizen will depen d lI»on the trainin g and leader ship he re- Dr. Mary Cover Jones
ceives today, as a child, it is believec1 the subjec t matte r is
as vital as any that could have been selected. .

The main purpo se of the course is to presen t what

we now know about child behav ior to those who will find
it helpfu l in under standi ng and guidin g the young er genera-
tion. Emphasis will be placed on provid ing inform ation
that can serve to streng then and enrich the relatio nship be-
tween a child arid his parent s and friends. (
Nation ally known author itiesin the field of child develo pment , Mr.
and
Mrs.jo nes are memb ers of the University of Califo rnia faculty, the
parent s
.......... of two childre n, and the grandp arents of three.
'-l
'-l Mrs. Jones serves as a lecture r in psychology on the Berkeley campu
s
and is a research associate in the Institu te of Child Welfare, She
'i:l has had
'"d long experi ence as a teacher' and as a psychologist and is the author
of
~
some fifty articles and papers on child growth and develo pment .
I Mr. Jones, who is professor of psychology anddi rector oC the Univer
N The course begins JANU ARY 15, 1952, and will be -
'---'
presen ted on Tuesd ays and Thurs days, from 10:45 sity's Institu te of Child Welf<lre, has served as a memb er of many
national
gTOllpS dealin g with childre n. and is a former
nresid enr of ,Ill' Divis;, '
 SUDJCct more intense ly with no regard for -.~ .. - .
credit, assignm ents have been prepar ed in con-
nection ","ith the televis ion lecture s and dem-
onstrat ions, and will he distrib uted by Uni-
vcrsity Extcns iun upon receipt of the enroll-
ment form at the bottom of the page. This
A
,==".

I
tpplira tion form, proper ly filled out and ac- ~~fi·
compa nied by a check or money order for
~§1~\
:;::.:=:.:-. :
the fee made payabl e to TIm REGENTS OF THE'
I ~~:
UNIVERSrIY OF CALIFORNIA, should be sent to
the Depar tment of Corres ponden ce Instruc -
tion, Univer sity Extension, Berkel ey 4.
Studen ts may elect to take the course for
I LIF ELO N~ LEA RNI NG
either nne unit or three units of credit, de- Vol. XXI BERKELEY, DECEMBER 10, 1951 No. 24
pendin g u pon the amoun t of time to be spent
1i Published \Vecll!y by UI'iversit y Extension , Universit y ot OoJiCorni
o.
Entered as second-eln ss matter Februory 12, 1082, at Berkeley,
in study, To earn one unit of credit would reo j Onliforn in, under lhe Act of August 24. 1912. Sent Cree of ehorge
10 lhose desiring Infol'moli on oC Universit y Extension
quire three hours of study a week in additio n
l..j
oellyltles.

to the televis ion progra m; three units would

requir e nine hours of additio nal work. A cer-. UNIVERSITY EXTENSION OFFICES
tilirntc of romple tlou will he awarde d upon '1 NORTHERN AREA
the satisfa ctory compl etion of all written as- BERKElEY 41
2441 Bancroft Wsy; telephone : AShberry 3·6000. loco1822 1.
signmc nis and a final exami nation on the 9 a.m, 10 6:30 p.m•• daily: Saturday, 9 a.m, to 12 noon,
'
work covere d in the course , SAN FRANCISC O 21
The lee for one unit of credit is $7.00; for 5·\0 Powell Street: telephone s: EXbrook 2·0824,
EXbrook 2·0825.
three units, $12.00. 11 a.m, to 9:30 p.m., daily, except Satutday.

-----------------------------------~
1 . I
SAN FRANCISC O 41
140 Montgom ery Slteet: telephone : YUkon 6·2789.
11 a.m, to 9 p.m .. daily,exc epi Saturday, .

AI'I'LICATION I
FOR ENROL LMENT IN TELEVI SION
OAKLAND 121
1730 Franklin Slteel; relephone : GLenconr t 1·5150.
COURS E ON CHII;.D PSYCHO LOGY i 12 noon 109:301'.111., dailY. except Saturday,

l SOUTHERN AREA
i'.
Dale LOS ANGElES 24 (UniversllY of Californi a Campus):
: . I,.
Bxrension Building; telephone s: ARizona 3·0971,
Mr.
Name ill fulll\fiss
BRadshaw 2·6161.
9 a.m, 104:30 1'.111., dail)'; Saturday, 9 a.m, to 12 noon.
(
; Announcing
Mrs, Plense pr ln],
..
Af(cr 5 p.m., call TUcker 6123. I
LOS ANGElES 141
Address
HII'C'f!l
. R13 South Hill Street; telephone : TUcker 6123.
J 1 n.rn, 109 p.m.• Monday Ihroullh Priday.
CHI LD PSY CH{
Cily Zone
1 LONG BEACH 2:
I wish 10 enroll for (please check):
I
A new course through
.........
one unit of credit ($7.00)
! 81h Street and American i.velluc; telephone : 72851.
8, a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday•
--...J
i
--...J

"d
three units of credit ($12.00)

Amnnnt enclosed (check or postal order) ,

r.
.1
SAN DIEGO 11
1015 Seventh Avenue; telephone r PRnnktln 9·9221.
8 a.m, 10 5 p.m., Monday through Friday.
TEL EVIS ION
..
N
'-'
All [res ",".Itl,e lmid {It time of ellroll"'e nt. Make money \I
CENTRAL COASTAL AREA
orders, drafts, or checks payable 10 Tile llegents Of tile SANTA BARBARA 1
I
Vllit·t'nily IIJ C"liforu i". 906 Sonia Barbato Streett telephone : 29118.
9 a.m, (0 5 p.m., Monday (hrnul:h Friday. LIFELONG LEA R
0' III _, • ~," r'l I 1 I I
 Mary in the 1950s.

Lawrence K. Frank and Mary Cover Jones on

the screen.

(78, pp.1-2)
 .,....
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IT
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,.....

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(78, p.2)
The Daily Californian

(79)
 ~y GAZETIE .... SaturiJay E...enlng, ft~PJuary 9: 1951-/:
. . . x.......: _ _::::::z

[fUC to Give
"

Television
IPrograms
1 • The Ber.keley campus. of the
L University of California, in co-
:.operation with Station KPlX, will
. present a :i:tew"series of educational
, television programs, to be called
"Inquiry'," starting' at 3:30 pm.
Sunday, .Tan. 24, on O1anneI5.,,:".-
.Announcement of the",ei:peri-
mental senesof 13 hill--hour pro-
grams; ,wbich' will be filmed,was
made today by Chancellor Clark
Kerr., ~ ,:c= " ~. ,',. , ' , ,> ' "i :
;'InqlIiry" 'will explore the varl~
ous fields 'of knowledge represent-
ed on the Berkeley and San Fran.
cisco campuses of the University,'
with faculty members from, the,
arts and sciences participating. A:
semi-doctlmentary fannat will be!
e.mployed~ cOnsisting of dramatic I
!illustratioIlS of problem areas, fOl-l,
lOWed by., dlscusslons among a,
! panel composed of professors and i
Iresearchers. ','
I . ''The Age, of S~gle': is '~e!
title of the fir::;t program; dealing]
l
,..i th .problems of 'adolescence.~si
viewed' by .psychologists, Staff!
members from the Instituteof1
O1ild Welfare at Berkeley, willi
,be featured in the discussion, in-I
eluding Dr. Harold E . .Tones, pro- ;
fessor of psydfoI6gy"""iffiQalreetor:
of the Institute; Dr. ¥aI"Y' C.
Jones": asseclate professor 01, eaa.:
cation, and Dr. Alex: C. Sherriffs,
associate pfofessor o~ ,0 ogy,
:both of', whom are also research,
associates at the Institute.~< .
SUbse1:Iuent "Inquiry"" telecasts
will investigate aspects of arehl-
S4-~RTED'~N, 1951 ..'
,,'The ,UniverSity o~ California.
'~"" ' I
Berkeley campus, ihas ~~I
in educational television ~
when it -presented a series called I
"Operation Education." In, Janu-
3ry, 1951, University Extension
sponsored a course in child ~y­
IclrolOgy, the first television course
to be given for fonnal credit on I
the ,West Coast. In May-June"
1952, the'''Callfornia Notebook",
prog'rams dramatized historical in-
cidents based upon materials'. in
the ·Banc::roft,:Library.: The uni-,'
vetSity's latest, :television e"..peri-
ment will be' distinguished by a i
roader utilization, 0(' personnel i
.==;:.~;eethe~~:e ~<:~~-'
,:"~CommentiD.i ~ si~Ca.'nce
. of ,'the new seriesotprograms,
OumcelIor Clark Kerr said,' ~
Uni?erSity' ,of CBlifornia has 'for
I , some time been'interested in ,thej
, possibilities of,·-educational 'tele-
vision. Te1eYkion creates the pos-
sibilityof !bringing into, the
homesl
of people' educational programs I
thatwould otherwise not be avail~1
able to them, In an effort to exper-.
liment :with educational television
an d to discover its possibilities
and lJmitation.s, the University is
'cooperating with KPIX. in the
presentation of these programs to
be entitled 'Inquiry'." .....
The Berkeley Gazette

'
/
tectur e, .art, botany, .eancer re-
search, criminology, juvenile de-
quency, industrial :re:lati,'~ns,' ,an,d ~

E
roblems of oldage, ,; ',' <.» "
" .Teanne' Minge.' 'recently' ap-
lnted by Chancenor Clark Kerr
;lISdireetor of television activities
for the Berkeley campus, will write
!and produce a series in close- eo-

~
eration Ith Station KPIX. For
WI,

the past two years Mrs. Minge has

en supervisor of radio and te-le-
vision activities at Tulane Uni-
versity iJi';N~. ' ",

(80)
 ,--"-:;-

iTo Hear
., .
Yourh .

,Survey Head "

j DtJ,i~}:"liQ!l!is, 'chairman of the
Citizens' Advisory Committee on
Youth' Activities, and associate
professor 0: education at the Uni-'
,versity of California, will speak'
,at the College Women's Club at
17:~O p.m. Tuesday. The subject of

1f"~~K~I~~~~%i;~;~¥(~~r~};7~fI~

DR. MARY C~RVER JON ES .,~:./

-chairman of, the Citizens' 'Ad-'
visory Committee I)n Youth Ac"
'tivities who will speak/Tuesday;
night ,at the ,College Women's;
:C~u~~ -',:',r~ : ';.-': ',; ",.'>,>.:' ",
[her lecture "'ill ,be ''The' DeveloP-i
imentalTasks of Adolescence," and!
:.':WilI'include an.outline of the ad.',:
ljustments,which youth must make,
qand indicatizig what parents' arid:
Iteachers can do to make these ad-
i ustm en ts easier. .' . ", , ,
During the question period, Dr.
lI Jones will answer queries con-
cerning the progress being made
,in connection with the results ofl
[the Youth Survey conducted herel
lin 1952. Dr. Jones was named to
~the Citizens' Advisory Committee
on Youth Activities by the Berke-
I
ley Council of Social Agencies
'which seeks to study needs of
I youth as revealed by the survey.
" Dr. Jones' and her husband, Dr.
Harold Jones, are, widely known
,as research associates in the In-
fstitute of Child Welfare at the
IUniversity. . ,,:' , I
I The meeting Tuesday night is
sponsored by the Youth Commit-
tee of the" College Women's Club
as the sixth in a series of lec-
tures on "Teen-agers and' Their
Local Press Parents." The meeting is open to
the public and no guest cards will
be required. The College Wom-
en's Club is located at the corner ( 81)
, o!College Ave. and Bancroft Way.
 THE CHILD STUDY CENTER
The Child Study Center, opened in April, 1960, is located on the south side of the campus l~t
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
the corner of Atherton and Haste Streets. The Buildings and Campus Development subcom-
mittee for the building consisted of Harold E. Jones, Chairman, Marjorie P. Honzik, Catherine
Landreth, Jean W. Macfarlane, Paul H. Mussen, and Fred T. Tyler.
The Architect is Joseph Esherick. Representing the University for the Office of Architects
and Engineers Were'the Landscape Architect, Frederick Warnke, who also designed the land-
scaping, and the Project Architect, Norma Willer.
The Center consists of two buildings connected by covered walkways. One of these Includes
a reception area, offices for administrative and teaching personnel, and eight test and research The Berkeley Conference OJ];
laboratories grouped around a central observation area, which is connected with the test
rooms by one-way vision windows and intercom equipment for sound. In addition, there are
two larger laboratory rooms separated by one-way windows.
The second building consists of two units of exceptionally attractive design, for use !IS
laboratory schools with ohildren from three to five years of age. Each unit includes two play-
room laboratories and servicing areas facing a large yard. A central gallery extending the
PERSONALITY
length of the building and into the yard will permit students to observe activities in both unit•.
The Center will provide observational and research facilities for faculty and for under-
graduate and graduate students in Psychology, Education, and in other departments and the
Graduate Field of Child Development.
DEVELOPMENT
THE INSTITUTE NURSERY SCHOOL
Tho Nursery School, which is now bolng transferred from lin old bnlldlng lit 2739 Bancroft
IN CHILDHOOD t
"ray, was Iirstcstublislu-d in 1927 with the nsslstance of tho Callfornln Pnreut-Tcnchcrs Asso-
ciation and with a grant from the Laura Spelman Memorial Fund. It was maintained until
Hl35 under Dr. Horbort R. Stolz ns Director of the Institute and Dr. Harold E. Joncs [5
Director of Ilescaroh. and under the Intter since lOS5.
Tho Director of the Nursery School since lOS!) has been Dr. Cathcrlno Landreth, head
teachers in UIO current year nro Miss Hannah Tynn and Mrs. Thehnn Harms, During tho
May 4-6,1960
coming yenr, facilities wl1l also bo given for a pnrcnt-pnrtlolpatlon nursery school conducted
by tho Berkeley Public Schools. In tho two units provisions enn be made for n totnl of e\1
children in a morning session (ages 3 to 4) and 60 children in an afternoon session (ages 4 to 51.

,/..T-··====----.:::....-::.-=.-.:. .:-:==~:.:.=2.;l2j-./l/;7erk'i7 ..Jlreel-·

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.\1r::o/Y/~':i}':);?~'" "-·I~

t 11t)I:;ii: ~'Cl [] ~I{l~{~~ iS conference is sponsored by the Institute of Human

...-.
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R1/~ }a-'-d
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1'\)).,.;. ,.,:
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. ~ :2i:
-::tbo-eWll
pment, in cooperation with the Elizabeth McCormick M
d of Chicago. The conference marks the opening of t
~ ~ Child study Center of the Institute, located at 2425 A
0.. - Street, Berkeley
ilr.r_ ::J.::':":;:', .J> ~l :~,:!
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7gram
--------------~--------------------------
GeneralChairman: HAROLD E. JONES
Director, Institute of Human Development

4 MayS
m. 155 Dwinelle 8:00 p.rn, 2000 Life Sciences Building
~siding: Vice-Chancellor JAMES D. HART Presiding: ChancellorGLENN T. SEABORG
IlIDNER MURPHY, Director of Research, Menninger Foundation ROGER J. Wn.LIAMS, Director, Clayton Foundation Biochemical Institute,
hat Problems and What Methods Are Basic for Psychology? University of Texas
~CU88ant: ERNEST R. HILGARD, Department of Psychology, Stanford University The Biological Approach to the Study of Personality
Discussant: ENOCH CALLAWAY III, M.D., Chief of Research, Langley Porter
Neuropsychiatric Institute .
5
n, Alumni House
May 6
1siding: MARY WOODS BENNETr, Dean of the Faculty and Provost, Mills
:::ollege 9:30 c.m, Alumni House.
IN W. MACFARLANE, Department of Psychology and Institute of Human Presiding: HERBERT BLUMER, Department of Sociology, University of California,
Development, University of California, Berkeley Berkeley
e Life-Career Approach to the Study of Personality Development: WILLIAM H. SEWELL, Department of Sociology, University of Wisconsin
me Findings from Longitudinal Research Social Status and Childhood Personality
tcussant: RALPH W. TYLER, Director, Center for Advanced Study in the Be- Discussant: DONALD BRIELAND, Director, Elizabeth McCormick Memorial Fund
aavioral Sciences
MELFORD E. Srmo, Department of Anthropology, University of Washing-
cnn G. BARKER, Department of Psychology, University of Kansas ton
rerlecn and British Child Rearing Systems: An Ecological Analysis Social Control, Soclali:r:ation, and the Theory of Social.Systems
cussani: CONRAD M. AnENSBERG, Department of Anthropology, Columbia Discussant: DAVJD G. MANDELBAUM, Department of Anthropology, Universityof
Jniversity California, Berkeley
n, 145 Dwinelle 3: 10 p.rn, 145 Dwinelle
'siding: HERBERT R. STOLZ, M.D. Presiding: NANCY BAYLEY, Chief, Divisionof Child Development,Laboratory of
Psychology, NationalInstitute of Mental Health
.RRY F. Hxnr.ow, Department of Psychology, University of Wisconsin
rheory of the Development of Affection in Primates R. NEVITI' SANFORD, Department of Psychology, University of California,
---co
N

cussant: WENDELL E. JEFFREY, Department of Psychology, University of Berkeley

:;alifornia, Los Angeles '"d
Childhood Experience and the Adult Personality
N
E:ANOR E. MACCOBY, Department of Psychology, Stanford University 4:00 p.m. '-'

~ Choice of Variables in the Study of Socialization Open House at Child Study Center
··'<sant: ROBERT R. SEARS, Department of Psychology, Stanford University Visitors will be welcomedby Dr. Nancy Bayleyand by the Staffof the Institute.
 Il:.RKl:LEY: DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION
\ :.••. ;:- .;,0.. :..~ .,.•'..... : .•.. ~ .. ':.:.~ ., l "," " :' . . . . :.:.~. . . . . . :.;~~ .•

May 31, 1960

Dear Mary;

I d.anied near let you get out of town WitbOut wr1 t11:lg
you the letter 1:. should have mailed you weeks ago. '.1 cannot
let you sever yoUr connections With the Depllrtment-~and its
faculty would ,neVer have forgiven me if I bad. let YO!-l do BO--
Vi thout expressing to you our sincere appreciation tor what
you have done ~ our warm. Vishes for ma.DY happy ye~s to cane.

It isS. regrettable fact that we shall miss you very

much in the future. All of us have been aware that ~you were
al~s ready to hand. to help whenever needeo..,--and You did help
and in countlessi ways. For the pleasant, responsibl~ discharge
of all your duties we are grateful. You have been ~ fine person
to have on the premises.

We shail miss you as a prized friend BX1d as a valued

colleague. Your long career of basic research has added to
our prestige and must have been an inspiration to mai:Jy member.s
of our faculty. 'Your cl.asses you have taught well, cUld your
students will 8.1.ways remember you with affection and: respect.

You have earned rest. May you enj oy it in the a.

knowledge that it is a reward for truly worthy labor.

Cordial.ly and sincerely,

~
W. A. Brownell
Dean of the School. of Education

To:
Mrs. Mary C. Jones
309 Havil.and Hall:
Campus '

Copy furnished by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones for

inclusion herewith.

(83, pp.1-3)
 --------_.. _~
----~-- ---------. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

·~~eJJ~
o ~ ~J 7) \ fI "
/UfJlfl'6 ./Vl fJ1£1#"#,,~ . ""I

Luther Calvin Gilbert

1890-1977
PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION, EMERITUS

Luther Calvin Gilbert served the University at Berkeley as a faculty

member in the School of Education for three decades (1929-58). As an • -:
Emeritus Professor he devoted nearly two decades more to the Univcr- ,.
sity through his community and research activities until his death in
Berkeley on January 7, 1977.
Luther Gilbert was born in Meridian, Mississippi on December 17,
1890, and spent his early years in that Southern community. For his
B.A degree in mathematics, he studied at the University of Mississippi
where he graduated in 1918. He went on to the University of Virginia,
where his M.A was granted in 1924. He earned his Ph.D. in education
at the University of Chicago in 1931.
, '
Professor Gilbert had his early teaching experience before coming to
Berkeley, first at the University of Virginia as assistant professor of
education from 1925 to 1927; then as instructor at the University of
Chicago (1927-29). He came to the University of California at Berkeley
as Lecturer in Education in 1929. He served as Associate Professor from
1937 to 1939, as Professor from 1939 until his retirement as Emeritus
Professor in 1958.
Dr. Gilbert was appointed Lecturer in Education at the University of
California in Los Angeles for the year 1932. He was invited to Duke
University as visiting professor in 1935. In 1962, after his retirement from
Berkeley, he taught at the University of Melbourne.
Professor Gilbert carried his full share of responsibility on University-
and departmental committees, where he graciously, skillfully, and force-_
fully contributed to the decision-making process.
Following Dean Freedman's retirement in 1948, Dr. Gilbert served
for two years as Acting Dean of the School of Education. Rejecting a ::
passive, caretaker role, he worked vigorously to build a stronger depart·;~;
ment of education. He brought in two new appointees at the rank of ";
. professor, one in psychology and one in administration.He also initiated<,~
the appointment of his .successor, William A Brownell, as Dean of the .·.·4
School of Education. It was during this two-year period that Dr. Gilbert ~
. '~"':'

70

, ·w"
Copy given by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones for inClusib·~here.

From the' in-house, uni versi ty-wide Ac ade mi c. &en-a te-G-f-U ;~. Berkeley
In Memoriam archives. September 1978.

(83, p.2)
 induced the University to set up a special departm ent fund for suppor
t
of new faculty research projects. This fund served as seed money
for
additional outside suppor t and put new life into faculty research activity
.
Dr. Gilbert's numerous publications attest to his vitality and produc
-
tivity in the field of his chosen discipline. His "Genetic Study of
Eye- ,
Movem ent in Reading"; "Funct ional Motor Efficiency of the Eyes
in
Relation to Reading"; and "Impro ved Spelling Throug h Reading"
were
recognized as outstan ding studies in the field and illustrate the practi-
cal nature of his instructional and research interests.
Luther Gilbert was a dynamic teacher. His classes were lively and re-
warding. His appreciative student s benefitted from his patient and
con-
structive approa ch to their research and writing endeavors. Teachin
g
was his personal tribute to the importa nce of the educational process
.
The marriage of Luther Gilbert and Doris Wilcox in 1925 enhanc
ed
his career since she also was commi tted to teaching and research in
the
educational field. In their more than fifty devoted years together,
they
cooperated in a numbe r of projects, many of which were centered in
the
Berkeley public schools. They reported their research findings in publi-
cations such as "Training for Speed and Accura cy of Visual Percept
ion
in Learning to SpeII- A Study of Eye-Movement" and "The Experi-
mental Investigation of a Flash-C ard Method of Teaching Spelling
."
As cherishing and stimulating parents they set the pattern and nour-
ished the abilities of their daught er, Allison Gilbert Olson, who is now
a
professor of history at the University of Maryla nd and mother of their
three grandchildren: Ellika, Severin, and Sander . Luther Gilbert's friends
recognized his prowess with golf ball, baseball, and basketball, and with
woodworking equipment. His athletic abilities in baseball and basketb
all
had served his college profitably in his youth. He and Doris were
in-
veterate walkers.
Calm, good cheer, unfailing courtesy, and devotio n describe a man
who could follow his own maxim: "Take life in stride." His exampl
e
contributed to the ouality of the University and to enriching his friends.

M.e. JONES
W.A BROWNELL
G.T. BUSWELL

.~

7J

(83, p.3)
 ..
.-

Harold EllisJones
1894-1960
PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY AND DIREcrOR OF
TIIE INSTITUTE OF HUMAN. DEVELOP:ME..'I,"'T

Harold Ellis Jones, Psychologist and Director of the Institute

of Human Development, died in Paris, June 7, 1960, at the I
I
very beginning of an elaborately planned six-months" retire-
ment vacation in Europe with his wife, Mary Cover Jones.
Professor Jones, although born in New Brunswick, New
Jersey, December 3, 1894, was reared in New England by
I
New England parents. He married Mary Cover in 1920 when
both were graduate students at Columbia University. They
have two daughters and six grandchildren.
,
I,
Professor Jones attended Massachusetts Agricultural Col-
lege for two years and then transferred to Amherst College,
where he received an A.B. degree in biology. in 1918, and
where the impact of Alexander Meikeljohn, Robert Frost,
and Stark Young left an enduring influence. He received an
11,A. degree in psychology in 1920 and a Ph.D. degree in
1923 from Columbia under the guidance of Professor Robert
S. Woodworth who remained his model of a disciplined ex-
perimenter and scholar. He became an instructor at Columbia
in 1922 and had risen to Assistant Professor by 1927, when he
came to the University of California as Assistant Professor of
Psychology and Research Director of the Institute of Child
Welfare. In 1931 he was advanced to a professorship, and
since 1935, has been Director of the Institute of Child 'Ve1-
fare (later renamed Institute of Human Development) which

55
I-
-,
Copy. furnished by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones for inclusion
~. he r e I n .
From the in-house, university-wide Academic Senate of
u. C. Berkeley, In Memoriam archives (n.d.; c. early 1960s)

(84, pp.1-3)
 . n 7 C:,Pd:tsnc

,
I

he developed into an internationally respected research cen-

t: h
t er ror uman gro
wth' . ' -- . .' c: , . -! ~,'
.,-.;;
' ~. c.:..,:".";...,''
Among the most outstanding characteristics of Professor
Jones were his relentless curiosity, high energy, and breadth
. of interests accompanied by meticulous attention. to detail.
He was an outstanding photographer, a creative 'gardener
with a broad knowledge of botany, a gadgeteer par excel-
lence, and, a prolific writer of erudite and humorous dogger~l
and parody, to name but a few of his many non-professional
activities.
His research activities covered the entire age span from
infancy through young children, adolescents, adults, to the
aging. His publications list contains over I&> titles and in-
eludes studies on emotions. and emotional development,
motor development, mental development or decline, learn-
ing, and nature-nurture studies of twins. His research en-
compasses a large range of metl.ods: experimental, measure-
ment, observational, cross-sectional, and longitudinal. It also
shows his sensitivity to the bio-social matrix in which psycho-.
logical phenomena are embedded and his commitment to the
indispensability of a multi-disciplinary approach to human
development research. '
In addition to his own research, he supported and often
gave critical guidance, during his thirty-three years at the
University, to over 450 research undertakings of others. He
encouraged the wide use of the Institute for the personal re-
search of members of many departments. For example, in his
last year of service, twenty-three faculty members' from
twelve departments of this campus used the Institute facilities
and data, and both predoctoral and postdoctoral fellows from
twelve other institutions and three other countries, under
private foundation and government awards, pursued their re-
search interests at the Institute.
Dr. Jones had rare editorialskills. In addition to editorial
service to the University of California Press, he served on the

(84, p.2)
 i"

I
r:
j
I

}
editorial boards :of Child Development, Psychological Mono- '.

I~ \
graphs, Journal of Educational Psychology, Journal of Ce-'
netic Psychology, Genetic Psychology Monographs, Journal of
T "
Gerontology, and the International Journal of Human De-
velopment. He was on the Board of Consulting Editors for
the [oumal of Experimental Education, Psychological Mono-
graphs, Journal of Educational Psychology, Journal of Ab- "
normal and Social Psychology, and Parents' Magazine.
Professor Jones served as President of the Western Psycho-

I logical Association and the Society for Research in Child De-

velopment. He also served as President of three divisions of
the American Psychological Association: the Educational
Psychology Division, Developmental Psychology Division,
and Maturity and Aging Division. He served as a member of
the Board of Directors of the American Psychological As-
sociation and was a member of the National Research Coun-
cil and the Social Science Research Council. He was Pacific
Coast Representative of the later council for years.
As Director of the Institute of Human Development, the
aspect that perhaps stands out most sharply from his ener-
getic and extremely full professional life was his heroic re-
fusal ever to accept defeat even in the face of budgetary, staff,
.-,. or administrative obstacles. The unHaggfng pursuit of knowl-
edge about the nature and the process of growth and change
outweighed personal comfort and at times even political
expediency,
11RS.J.\V.MACF~'TE
D. H. RUSSELL
M. B. S2-liTH

57 .

(84, p.3)
 1
I
I

944 Second Street, phone trying to reach me when John

santa Monica, cal••
June 12.
. Dear Mary:
I can hardly bring myself
to write this letter. We are stunned
by the news of Harold's death. It is
impossible to imagine how you are
feel1Dg or to think how yoti. will plan
your life from here on. The Joneses
have always been the humanequivalent
of the Rock of Gibraltar to us, and
quite outside any rules applying to
ordinary people. Martin is even more
shaken than I am because Harold was
always someone very special to him,
a sort of idealized father figure
without any of the stigmata of real
fathers.
John Beeston called to
let us know after he had heard from
Harold's secretary. Martin is in
Toronto for six weeks, but was on the
called and I spoke to him a few
minutes later~ My immediate reaction
was one of anger at such an unjust
disposition of fate. Here you had
both jUst retired and were starting
out on something thhat could have been
a delightful and fulfilling adv(\ture
together. I was simply furious •. I f
there were ever t~~ people who deserved
such an experience, it ~~syou two.
:t am angry at myself too. I
had planned to write you aEon Voyage
note before you got away and failed
to do so. I have you both in mind so
often and have seen you so seldom in
recent years.
The most idiotic things occur
to people in moments of emotional
upset and the thing that came to me
when I started to think back on the
part or our life that was spent close
to you hQd nothing to do with Harold

3.

but was the recollection that you were

the first person for Whom Roger spoke
some kind of. a name. It seems quite
a short time ago, but he has just fin-
ished his first year at the University.
Whatever Harold's contribution

F:r as a scientist, lim sure his most im-

portant contribution to anyone who k;new .
. him at all 'was a personal one. I would
be at a 10s6 really to describe What
was so special about him, but it had to
do ~th the particular persoha! equation
\; of integrity, gentlesness t humor and .
tl'J
,:,.some kind of a wide-eyed bO Yish. qua.l1
that would have been unbecoming in any-
one less genuine or more pretentioUs.. .
If Martin l'Jere"1lere-he" would .
join in sending "you our tenderest and
deepest sympathy and our most warm .
wishes for the enjoyment of whatever
comforts remain to you. Our love to
Leslie and Barbara when you see them.
Affectionately,
I .
~O"U)~ hoeb.
.• ~.' '.f (85, pp.1-3)
 . ;-

)
'. (8 5 ,_ P .3
 D.C. News THE POST, Sunday, October 26,1986 Page 5
TF I StEW&V _ .: .aae.•. HktJ2J~

Sociology Professor Wins Award

Berkeley - John A. Clausen, a emeritus and research Perspective," deals with the
research leader and professor of sociologist at U.C.-Berkeley's subject.
sociology at the University of Institute of Human Among Clausen's early
California in Berkeley for more Development. He is a past research projects was
than two decades, has received director of the Institute (1960-65) developing the data for the War
the Common (sic) Wealth and past chair of the Department during World War
Award in Sociology. Department of Sociology (1976- II that was used as the basis for
The award, which carries an 79). planning the G.I. Bill of Rights.
$11,000 prize, is given for Clausen's current research is Later, at the National Institute
outstanding achievement in based on the Institute's long- of Mental Health, he pioneered
sociology. It was established by term lingitudinal study that has research on the impact of
the late Coca Cola Company followed the same individuals mental illness on the family.
executive Ralph Hayes under his for more than 50 years. He is From 1948 to 1960, Clausen
will after his death in 1977. attempting to document how headed the Institute's
Seven other awards were relationships and experiences Laboratory of Socio-
given in the fields of dramatic become organized and give environmental Studies. His work
arts, government, invention, purpose and meaning to the there on social relations and
literature, mass individual in the life course. schizophrenia led to better
communications, public service, His most recent book, "The understanding and more
and science. LIfe Course: A Sociological systematic study of the ways in
Clausen is now professor which social processes both
influence and are themselves
influenced by mental disorders.
In 1982, Clausen was awarded
the Berkeley Citation, which is
the campus' high honor for
particular distinction in one's
field and for notable and
distinguished service to the
University.
Clausen was given the
Common Wealth Award at the
recent annual meeting of the
American Sociological
Association.

(86)
 , ' ••'"\ :), , ••" III fiJ IIl' lllI d
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2000 4 Johnst own, Pa., Oct. 29, le91; 5.' Charle s Blair
12 and Carrie Louise (Higso n) C.; studen t Ohio
19 St at e U., 1911- 12; B.S., Co1umb 1a , 1915, A.M. ,
26 1919, Ph.D., 1927; ch t l dr-en by 1st
33 marria ge-Ev lyn June, John Hlgson ; m. 2d, Mary
40 Leyman, Dec. 16, 1938. Spl. attach e Am. embass y,
49 Vienna , 1915-1 6; journa lism N.Y. and U.S. Food
56 Admi nst rn., Wash i ngton, 1917-1 8; 1nst r , Col umbt a
51 U., 1921-2 3; prof. Colo. Coll., 1923-2 4; prof.,
68 dir. Bur. Bus. and Social Resear ch, U. Denver ,
76 1924-2 7; prof. and dir. Bur. Bus. Resear ch, U.
84 Pitts. 1927-3 0; prof. U. Chgo., 1928-4 0, on
91 leave of absenc e and with Com. on Govt.
99 Statis tics and Info. Servic e, Washin gton, 1933,
105 U.S. Dept. Commerce, 1939; cons. econom ist,
111 1940-4 1; econom ist and exec. office r of Lend-
117 Lease Admin strn .. Dept. State, UNRRA, Fgn. Econ.
124 Admin strn .• Dept. Commerce, 1942-4 6, also head
130 bus. admin strn. dept. Army Univ. Center ,
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34 Projec t, 1955-5 6. Chmn. bd. dir. Inst. on World Place
42 Orgn. Fellow emerit us AAAS; memo Am. Econ. Name of person filling this form
---
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o --- ---
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005 63 Conservation Assn. (sec. 1960-72, trustee
69 19So--) , Am. Statis. Assn., Econometric Soc.,
75 Am. Econ. Assn., Omicron Delta Gamma, Alpha
82 Kappa Psi, Delta Upsilon. Author: Business and
89 Personal Failure and Readjustment in ChiCag~,
95 1933; Retail Price Behavior, 1935; Asia is Our
103 Business. 1955; India in World Affairs, 1957;
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 f;
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. .. .
Dr. John H. COVeT, DO slouch at pattillr during a rest ~ ~at~ the
one foot ill front ef the ether, "oliciates'" C... O. Canal towpath· at ~wanb Ferry.

DOIlglas. Hikers to Hit Touipath

For 7tJ,/ Reunion Trek OJI ~fa,'V'6
... '
ATTENTION! All memo will follow at Westmoreland President of the Associs-
ben of Justice William O. Congregational Church . . tion is John H. Cover, di-
Douglas' foot-sloggers. It's
time to start limbering up The Association supports rector of the Bureau of
those insteps and getting the legislat.ion to establish the Business and Economic Re·
kinks out of those leg ten- C, & O. Canal area (now a search. University of 1\1(;1;;.
dons. Xational Monument; as /l na land. C. J, S. Durham of
t ional park and the acquisi- Vienna. Va .. is \·jn pre~;·
The seventh annual reun-
ion hike of the C. &: O. tion of additional land need- dent and Constant South-
Canal Association will take ed to make the historic area worth of The Wcstl'he);!e:r,
l! J!oing recreational opera- Washinjrton 16. D. C.; is .<f·C·
place 1\1«,' 6.
t ion retarv ,
On Frrdav. l\Ia\' 5. there
wnJ be a b'u~;ine5~'- meeting
and campout at the Youth
HOEle) beyond Seneca Md
A n:'ording" : 0 present plans.
til" r-eunion hike will stan
at fj 1J. rn. Saturday from t nr- Reprinted with permission of the
~['nH'a Cree); aqueduct and
will ('/1() at the foot br idgt' Washington Post, (2/88)
III Sycamore Island (lI·leAr·
thur blvd. extended and
W"Jhondir:; rd ) in Brunk- (87, p.3)
mont
A reunion dinner, of
which Mrs. Fred Blackburn
u·in h.r:- fhco 'h.nc-.n.(·l· ... _ ........ .y_ ...
Mary with her brother, John H. Cover
c. 1962

Mary with her sister, Louise Hill,

on the farm "Up Yonder", 1964

(88)
Mary, .with her nephew, John H. Cover, Jr. (Jack)
Taken August 19th, 1962 at the front. door of the
house on Shasta Road

(89)
 COP!
211 Fairfield Pike
Yellow Springs, o. 45)87

December 1, 1975

Hon , Edward' Hirsch Levi

Attorney General of the United States
U.S. Department of Justice
Constitution Av. & Tenth St., N.W.
Washington, D.C. 205,0
Dear Dr. Levis
I bring to your attention an aggrevated situation in which it would appear
that the 'gun lobbies' and others are pressuring public officials to close
the market to a non-lethal wnapon, designated ~ , declaring it illegal
and dangerous. Information from Washington suggests that among others, Sena-
tor Alan Cranston has approached your office, although it appears that he
bas never seen a Tajer. A.professional friend at Wright-Patterson Base, Day-
ton, alDJsingly mentioned that some military police are curiously jittery
about this unknown weapon. In turn, a civil law officer elsewhere is reported
as apposing non-lethal weapons because police may need to kill.

The inventor and manufacturer of TeSer is II\'{ Bon, John H. Cover, usually
addressed 'Jack'. I have not informed him of II\'{ intention of appealing to you,
but shall sen..-thim a copy of this letter. I am certain that he would be glad
to provide a demonstration and such information as you may wish. He is presi-
dent of Taser Systems Inc. (subllidiary of Advanced Chemical Technology),
. . ".
1100 So. Azusa Av., City of Industry, Ca. 91748; telephones(21~) 96~~56•.
As an indication that his productiB. the result of many years of unusual _
scientific andtechnologicai competence, I offer the followings Jack'graduated
from the University of Chicago 1n 1941, volunteered for the Air Force, vasa
pilot and commissioned officer, assigned to sub-depot engineering training,
and completed service at Wright-Patterson in research and testing. He returned
to the U. of Chicago for post graduate work in nuclear physics, 1946-48, with
Fermi and Teller, completing all course requirements for a doctorate. The Navy
asked him to undertake technical development and administrative duties'at the
Navy Ordinance Test Station, Inyokern, Ca.,where he developed a m.1mber of,ori-
ginal inventions, some of which were converted into IIhardware". But his re-
sponsibilities left little time for a ~hesis, and the period of grace passed.
He became engineer and supervisor, fire control, No. Amer. Aviation; chief en-
gineer and director of professional personnel, Space and Information Systems
Di v ; the same company, contributing to Winning the Apollo program. Again he
contributed inventions. At NAA he pioneered the development of the Information
System concept and technology, studying on the side cybernetics, neurology,-
bie-feedback,' implants for'recording .or assioting organic fUnctions and sus-'
ceptabillty to, and protection of, the biological systems from foreign environ-
ments, including space radiation. One of his departments, called Life Science,
empla,yed up to 50 MO's and Ph.D'e. Howard Hughes induced Jack to join his com-
pany, where again he oon'Yerted researoh into profits for the company. -

(90, pp.1-2)
To Hon, E.H. LevL Page 2 From John H. Govnr, :';r.

I waS on the faculty at U. of Chicago in economics and business. 1928-40,

and in Washington and overseas until 1945. During these periods you and I
had fleeting contacts. One of ~ assignments was to handle foreign require-
ments under Lend Lease. For further reference. please consult WhOIS Who.

Taser is offered as a defensive weapon. particularly at home or on the

streets. One of my grandsons insisted upon being the laggressor l in an
early teat~, with motion pictures. held at a hospital to assure adequate
medical attention. I hope you will authorize a test for your reassurance,
and in the interval discourage efforts to eliminate T~ER for competitive
reasons. unseen and untested.

Sincerely,

John H. Oover, Sr.

(COPr) '.

(90, p.2)
 211 Fairfield Pike
Yellow Springs, Or 45}87

Jan. 16:, 1976

Dear Mary:

Your holidays covered the coastal areas southward. 1 always

think of the Redwoods northward and eastward; less of t~~ ~esert.
Your home area seems to have had mch rain-or it 'e just ·CI!.l.r weather
reporter trying to cheer us. Ve had a period of open sunsh1ne, then
rain, now snow. In the interval, one night at minus 8. Today, wet
snow with temperature, late morning at ;8.

Mary is on an excursion ·to Daton--dentistry-this ,morning. But

I'll give her a chance at cOIJDnentby"JIl,Y' concentration upon Jack's
current experiences. I encloeea oopy of ~ letter to Attorney Gen.
Levi, who left the presidency of the U. of Chicago to move to the
Ford (not Lincoln) service. Also, the new member of the U.S. Supreme
Oourt was a friend of Jack's at Ch1-cago, and 1 met him.

~ letter to Levi in general ~~ers the battleground on the Federai

angle. Of course it is always diff1:Cu~t to identify propagandists who
are flush with d~llare. Jrtv'letter:,tp.,LeTi. was referred to the Treasury
Department, Bureau' of Alcohol, To~~co and Firearms (abortions not yet
added) with the excuse that. the Bur.Oau was considering TASER. At least
this verified JaCk'S info that the Bureau, which had classified the
TASER as ~ a ..firearm,. ·V8.8';·undf;tr<.~sure to rsverse 'the earlier de-
cision at once'; therefore !II1..w1.re 1;0 Senator Beall (of Maryla.nd, for
whom I had recen~ly read ,his propOsed bill on enlarging the public ow-
nership of Potomac River shoree and .offered suggestion --free of course).
I alsowrote a letter to our friend from No. Virginia, Representative
Joseph Fisher, former bead of Resources for the Future (1 had reco~
mended him as an'assistant,~o Qus.ta.vsonwhen Gus was appointed head;
and Gus had consulted me about~i8he~ succeeding him when Gus retired),
enclosing ~ letter to LeVi, ,and inviting suggestions. One aspect is the
support of conservation organizations; some have volunteered help, other-
wise Jack doesn't have funds to circularize. .'

-Another aspect is state influence.Oalifornia and New York attornays

have outlawed tQe TASER as dangerous.(guns are not?), and suit has been
brought against the N.Y. decision, ~nd a request for conference with
the Cal. officials. So far as can be le~d these decisions have been
made without seeing the Taser--al~ays in~he interest of the public!
The epidemic is spreading and governments and firearms mfs. and dealers
seem to have endless f;unds.
'h' : Jack went to Washington last Monday and probably. conferred with the
two Calif. Senators (Oranston and Tunney), the Treasury Bureau, the
~~. Oonsumer Products Safety Co.ssion, etc. He phoned Tuesday. One of JI19"
friends, a former student a~ Denver U., an assistant at Pgh. and re-
Jc.c, J.a.J-o.f cently retired from the Export-Import Bank (Washington) f,'actively
~. x.. interested. Editorials have appeared in..the liash. Post~ anI article in
the N.Y. Times Mag. Sect. and something in the San Fran papers. All
~ fOl( have been written without seeing the instrument, IlRny from last year
articles in Bus. Week etc. and from JaCk's appearance at Fairs. I hope
~\ to hear from Jack tonight, from liash. ~ Calif. I'm assembling names
of organizations (anti-guns, conserva~on, public welfare, Quaker,etc.)

t{~ some of whioh I shall write, after clearing with Jack. Fortunately his
lawyer formerly was on Sen. Kennedyls staff dd K. is VB. firearms.
. (91, pp.1-2)
Bon. J. Glenn Beall, Jr.
U.S. Senate
Washington, D.C.
Urgently request you call Treasury Secretar.r William Simon
suggesting his Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms delay de-
chion on the non-lethal weapon called TABER until Bureau can
provide satisfactory reasons for revi~ing ruling which declared
T!..sER a Ii.on- firearms. Period. My- s on, John Oover, the inventor,
wilJ, be in Washington late Monday twelfth care Attorney John
Rogers of Hamilton and Hamilton. He would appreciate your office
communicating with him. Period. My- appreciation.

John H. Oover, Sr.

(91, p.2)
 Now, a real-life Flash Gordon weapon.
the Taser, which stuns instead of kills. Potential crime victims
are buying it. Unfortunately, so are the hoods.
~}' Fred Ferr etti
Its invento r, its manufa cturer and
its salesme n call It "the first al-
ternativ e to the gun." Press its
twin triggers and a charge of
gunpow der ignites, firing two
missiles that will strike your as-
sailant (or your victim) and cause
him to fall virtLfiJly !jg1l§@!e55, his
muscles thrown into uncontr ol-
lable spasm« by a superch arged jolt of electric i-
~y,.1t ~tuns withou t kll1lng. The pain and injury
~t In!hcts are suppose d to be transito ry, over
In minutes .
Its very' name, Taser, is one of those con-
coction s of technol ogy and romanc e that we seem
to dote upon, like the laser,. which nearly cut
James Bond in half in "Goldfi nger," and the
fanciful Phaser, with which "Star Trek's" Capt.
James Kirk dispatc hes weird foes to other galaxies.
Its full names are the Taser TF-l and the Taser
Public Defender. In the nine months that have
passed since it went on sale to the public, more
than 2,000 of the $199.50 weapon s have been
purchas ed by housewives, salesmen, schoolt eachers ,
student s, security guards, storeke epers and even
off-duty policemen, presum ably for protecti on
against robbery and assault. And in fact the
Taser has been used on at least two occasio ns
in New York City to immobilize attacke rs.
Not everyon e agrees tbat the Taser is as benign
a weapon as its markete rs have claimed, however,
and it has become the focus of some cortrov ersy.
Most obvious ly, a weapon that can be used to
protect against crimes can also be used to commit
them, and Tasers have been used by the perpetr a-
tors of robberi es and muggings in Florida, New
York City and New York's Nassau County , further -
more, some medical experts charge that the Taser's
effects may actually cause serious injury or even
death, particul arly if its shock is felt by children,
old people, or people with heart or neurological
conditio ns. Californ ia has ruled that the Taser
is . a firearm and has demand ed that each one
sold be register ed. The New Jersey Attorne y Gener-
al has declare d it to be the equival ent of a
Fred Ferretti is a reporte r for The New York Times.
~un that must be licensed. And in New York
City, Police Commissioner Michael Codd has classi-
fied it as a "danger ous weapon " as defined by
the state's Sullivan Law. He says that as far
as he is concern ed, the Taser is not an alterna tive'
to the gun, but is a gun "becaus e the discharg e
medium is gunpow der," His October ruling makes
it illegal to carry a Taser in the city.
The Taser Is a squared -off flashlighUlke device.
A~ a matter of fact. the top portion of its face
is a tlashllg~t.. fielow the iight are two piuglike
cassette s. Within each cassette is a dart-re sem-
bling a straight ened-ou t fishhoo k-aUac hed to IS
feet of fine wire, coiled lor easy release. Atop
the molded plastic case are triggers that tum on
the flashlight" set" off the gunpow der charges
that fire the darts, and release the electric current.
It is small, only nine inches long, and weighs
about one pound. five ounces. Its power is gen-
erated by tiny batterie s similar to those used in
comput ers. Their normal output is 8 watts and
7.5 volts, but a powerfu l transfo rmer within the
Taser generat es 50,000 volts when a trigger is
pressed . This jolt, sent through the wires into the
darts, which have been shot into the skin or cloth-
ing of the victim. cause him to become "Tasere d."
The darts need not pierce the skin to be effective.
If they stick into a coat or a jacket, the enormo us
amount of voltage thai can be applied by trigger
pressur e will cause an electrical spark to leap
one and a half inches and send the jolt-al so
called a "zap"- into the body. With Its range
of only 15 feet, the Taser cannot be aimed with
precision. The user should aim for the torso,
for the darts will often hit as much as two feet
apart. The Taser has little muzzle velocity, and the
force of the darts is retarded because they remain
attache d to the wires, Their 'impact, apart from
the electric shock, has been compar ed to that
of a Ping-Pong ball. A convent ional gun is faster,
more accurat e and more deadly than a Taser,
but if Taser darts should strike someon e holding
a pistol, the gunman would be rendere d helpless
and his loss of muscul ar control wouid cause
him to drop the gun. A shot from a Taser can
lmmobilize an attacke r in less than three seconds,
and once the darts have attache d themselves
to his body or clothing, repeate d charges can
be jolted into him by simply pressing the Taser's
trigger.
(92, pp.1- 4)

The Taser's promoters advertise it as "the
first effective means of defense that does not
destroy living tissue or vital organs. If you fire
the Taser at a fellow human, you're not left
with irrevocable consequences the rest of your
life. The Taser does not depend upon physical
force .to achieve ill; effectiveness." It works "on
the principle that the myriad of nerves that lace
through the body function as an electrical system.
These nerves activate the muscles and send mes-
sages to the rest or" the body.
·'When the Taser's electrical force is DOwered
Into the body, it generates an electrical current
that dominates this existing neuromuscular system.
When an attacker has been 'Tasered,' the muscles
in his body involuntarily contract; he is virtually
helpless and may experience pain. With most
guns, a bullet must hit a vital organ. before
it can completely immobilize an attacker. That's
why a man can be shot in the shoulder or
leg' or even chest and continue to attack. But
if that same attacker were contacted with high
voltage electrical energy, the uncontrollable muscle
spasms would immobilize him. No matter how
big or strong. Or whether he is under the influence
of drugs or alcohol."
The Taser, which received patent number 3,803,-
463 in April 1974, was devised by a man named
John H. Cover of Palos Verdes, Calif. Mr. Cover. a
1960's space-technology engineer with the Federal
aerospace program, had toyed repeatedly with the
idea of building an electronic rifle much like the
ones Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon used to slin~
over their shoulders. The patent, however, was for
an electric "hand-held immobiliZing" weapon.
In concept, the device is not really all that
revolutionary. In 1852 someone applied for II
patent on an electric harpoon whose cables would
be attached to the copper undersides of whaleboats.
And 100 years later, one Thomas D. Ryan applied
for a patent on an electric gun that would produce
heart stoppage as well as electric shocks. In 1957,
patents for electric spears, arrows and lances with
self-contained power sources were filed. Mr. Covf'r
drew on these concepts as well as on his own
research and came up with the idea of the flash-
Iightlike electric gun. The patent was bought by
Alvin Simon, president of Advanced Chemical
Technology of City of Industry, Calif., and Taser
Systems, Inc. became its sub-
sidiary with Mr. Cover as
president.
From 1971 to 1973 the Taser
advanced towards production
with the idea 1hat it might
become a piece of basic equip.
ment on the country's airlines
to combat hijackings. But
when the .airlines began to
rely on electronic searches.
they lost interest in the Taser,
says Mr. Simon, so it was
developed as "the alternative
tq the gun."
The Taser, on the other
'hand, puts out a jolt con-
trolled by the trigger, then
abates. The important factor,
says Mr. Simon, is "the dura-
tion" of the shock. Since the
Taser went on public sale
in March, there have been
no reports of serious injury
or death as a result of its
use-either defensively or of-
fensively. "Its advantages,"
says Mr. Simon. "far outweigh
its disadvantages." Though he
concedes that the Taser "must
be treated as a dangerous
weapon." he contends "its pri,
mary purpose is defense." The
muzzle velocity of the Taser
is less than that of a BB
gun, he points out. and an
accidental pressing of the
triggers will fire the twin
darts but "they won't even
penetrate through the holster
holding it." In one velocity
lest, the Taser was fired at
a pane of glass less than
three feet away and its dans
"did not even crack the glass,
much less break it," Mr. Si-
mon says.
But the monumental 50,000-
volt charge could affect, for
example, a person with a
pacemaker. It could seriously
injure people with nerve dis-
orders or heart disease. Thus
the Taser "has been designed
to be nonlethal to normally
healthy people," it!' advertis-
ing carefully points out, but
"there is no guarantee that
serious injury will not occur
or that harmful aftereffects
will not result from the use
of the Taser." However, con-
tinues the sales pitch, "there
is no weapon, technique or
procedure for subduing at-
tackers or restraining crowds
that does not mvolve some
risk of injury."
One prominent New York
cardiologist is alarmed by the
Taser, however. "We are ter-
ribly concerned about shock
hazards of all types;" he said.
"For example, a small amount
of current leakage in an EKG,
if the equipment is not
properly grounded, can lead
to possible death. If a person
is active, angry, if he's in
flight, there are cardiac chang-
es; we call them ion-nux
changes. They alter heart ac-
tion; they can produce con-
tractions. A charge such as
that from the Taser could
cause a stoppage. 1 would say
it's very hazardous, The heart
acuon of a person under stress
differs greatly from that of a
person at rest or at leisure.
A robbery, a mugging are
stress times, I would presume.
I would not want to think
of the consequences of 6
charge such as that. Just the
thought of it sends chills up
my back."
Testing of the Taser began
in 1968 with experimental
shootings of boars-whose
cardiovascular systems are si-
milar to those of humans--es
well as human volunteers. A
boar was shot with a Taser
whose eleCtrical output was
10 times that possible in the
Taser Public Defender. Imme-
diate muscle spasms and total
incapacitation were induced.
but it was determined, Mr.
Simon says. that no per-
manent damage was .done to.
the boar.
In subsequent test.s on hu-
mans, conducted in hospitals
under medical supervision, all
experienced pain and muscu-
lar spasms but not adverse
aftereffects. After one such
test ~n 1971, the human gui-
nea pig reported, "I couldn't
do anything. I couldn't stand
up. I went right down. The
pain was awful." And the
supervising doctor reported,
"The subject' was completely
immobili;ed. His recovery
was fairly rapid. His blood
pressure returned to normal
in minutes." In another recent
test. a young woman shot
at an "attacker" as he took
a threatening step towards
her. As he was hit by the
darts, his legs buckled and
he was laid flat on his back.
He could not get up immedi-
ately, but in a few minutes
he had recovered fully.
Mr. Simon says he believes
fears over the Taser result
from the fact that most people
associate high voltage. with
danger. High voltage is dan-
gerous, he agrees, but only in
constant, steady currents, like
those that flow through power
lines and home electrical cir-
cuits.
(92, p.2)
 Who buys Tasers? And why?
Vernon H. Juergens of Car-
roll, Iowa, president of a poul-
try consultant group, bought
two. "My daughter goes to
school at U.C.L.A. The
school's all right. but I don't
think too highly of the area
around it in terms of crime.
At first, I gave her a regular
gun. Then a doctor friend
mentioned this new kind of
gun. It was a much better
idea.
"You know, with a gun,
if a defender injures t·he at-
tacker, under our system he
can be brought to court. If
my daughter had to use a
gun-well, I think I'd rather
she defend herself than not.
But I think it would be a
devastating thing to live with
the thought that you'd killed
someone. So the Taser seemed
ideal. It doesn't take accura-
cy. It will stop you even if
it hits your arm. If it's taken
away the attacker cannot use
it back to injure my daughter
or kill her. Now she carries
it in her purse from college
to her apartment."
A New York City policeman
bought a Taser for his person-
al use off duty, and a doctor
with an office in what he
called a "bad" pan of Brook-
lyn bought one to be pre-
pared, he said, for break-ins
and drug-theft attempts. A
woman who makes her living
taking jewelry to trade shows
around the country-often as
much as $100,000 worth-
bought three Tasers because,
she said, "How could you
use a pistOl in crowds?"
A middle-aged woman who
lives alone bought one to keep
, on her night tahle, and a young
: couple bought a pair of Tasers
-His and Hers-before leav-
ing their home in Massa-
chusetts for a honeymoon trip
to Central and South America.
. In New York City, two mas-
'sage parlors bought Tasers
because, "we tend to' deal
with rowdy people," and the
owner of an apartment house
from which he has difficulty
collecting rents now carries
a Taser with him on his
rounds.
In July a truck driver de-
livering meat for a wholesaler
was stopped by three men in
Harlem. He pulled out his Taser
and shot one of the assailants.
The other two watched their
partner fall twitching to the
ground and ran off. The truck
driver calmly took his finger
off the current trigger, pulled
out the barbs from the would-
be attacker's clothing and
drove off. A short while
later in the Bronx, a man
walked into a car wash and
for no apparent reason be-
gan beating up one of the
attendants, He had knocked
out several teeth hy the time
the car-wash owner got there
with his Taser and gave him
a zap. The attacker went down
and stayed there until the 110-
Iice arrived,
All of these Tasers were
sold by Shelley Singer -
perhaps the largest Taser
franchisee in the country - 3
former New York City school-
teacher who founded her se·
curlty hardware business, In-
tense Defense Inc., OUI in
Great Neck, Long Island after
a friend, an airline pilot wno
had been involved in testing
the Taser as an antihijack
weapon, told her about it. In-
tense Defense and anot her in-
terim New York Tascr Iran-
chisel', . Public Ddcndcr of
New York. are among the
thousands of firms that have
sprung up about the country
as merchandisers of new
modes in personal security,
"We saw the tremendous
possibilities of the Taser,"
says Mrs. Singer. "We investi-
gated it. I got in touch with
AI Simon, We received a Ta-
ser and began showing it to
our friends. The response we
~(ll was very good,"
Sales ot thl:: Taser, however,
have not been limited to those
seeking personal protection.
In Miami in the early fall,
a woman held up a gas station
with a Taser, shot the atten-
dant and got away with a
register drawer full of cash.
But the attendant, who recov-
ered quickly from the electric
shock, was able to identify
her, and she was caught.. In
New York in November, two
jewel robbers shot a diamond
merchant with a Taser and
made off with $100,000 worth
of stones. The dealer required
hospital treatment for the
temporary aftereffects of the
zap. And out on Long Island
a woman leaving a depart-
ment store was shot at with a
Taser, One dart hit a thigh,
the other stuck in the lining
of her flapping coat, so that
she experienced no shoc-k.
Both the diamond merchant
and the Long Island woman
provided identifications of
their assailants, but arrests
are still pending,
"In a one-on-one situation,
the Taser is an excellent de-
fense weapon," Mr. Simon
An Iowa man considered the laser an
'ideal' gift for his daughter, a college
student. A Massachusetts couple bought
two to take on their honeymoon trip
through Central and South America.
says. "But of course it can
get in the hands of people
who will use it in the wrong
manner. But such people use
guns wrongly too. They use
bats, .knives and BB guns
wrongly 100. But it should
be remembered that when it's
been used wrongly, none of
the victims has been per-
manently hurt in any way.
They complain about the pain
from the shock, but they can
also say, 'I'm standing here.
I'm alive and I'm standing
here.' " Meanwhile, Mr. Simon
is challenging Commissioner
Codd's ruling that the Taser
is a dangerous weapon and
illegal in New York City. In
mid-December his attorney,
(92, p.3)
MOrL Robson. served L.ommll>·
sinner Codd with a complaint
on behalf of Mr. Simon's corn-
pany and Judith Brodsky, an
insurance broker, demanding
that the Police Commissioner
prove in court that the Taser
was a firearm, a dangerous
weapon. The Supreme Court
suit asks that the court deter-
mine the Taser's status and
whether it should be licensed
in New York, and it cites the
opinion of the U.S. Treasury',
Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco
and Firearms that the Taser
is not a firearm and therefore
can be transported across
slate lines. The complaint also
says that Mrs, Brodsky, be-
cause of the high incidence
of crimes of violence in New
York and the consequent dan-
ger to unescorted females,
wants to buy a Taser for
her personal protection but
has been prevented from
doing so by Commissioner
Codd.
Across the river in New
Jersey there are no such prob-
lems, however. A Taser can be
carried or kept in onc's home
or office, providing a license
for each of these uses is QI>.
tained,
The response to the Taser
on both coasts and at points
between leaves little doubt
that it has fascination for us
in these times when we are
becoming obsessed with se-
curity. There is likewise little
doubt that a lot of people are
accepting the claim that it is
a true-albeit limited-alter-
native to the gun and that
interest in it is growing. Last
 summer, for' example, Senator
Edward M. Kennedy of Mas-
sachusetts, long an advocate
of gun control, wrote to Mrs.
Singer concerning the Taser.
"Can a child easily Operate
the-weapon or are there any
safety devices to prevent ac-
cidental discharge? What an:
present restrictions on the
sale of the Taser? What is the
general price range of the
Taser on the retail market?
What proportion of sales have
gone to law enforcement
agencies? Retail outlets? Are
you familiar with any studies
made to determine the effects
of the shock on children? The
elderly? Persons with heart
conditions?"
Had the Senator not ar-
cepted the Taser's premise
that it is a positive alterna-
tive to the gun, he might
have asked some more basil:
questions. My son And daught-
er asked them of me one
e"'cn;ng as we spoke of the
Taser during the course of DIy
research into it.
Why is there a need for
the Taser? Why is there a
need for an alternative to the
gun? Isn't the Taser just
another gun? And why do
we need another gun?
I reallv couldn't give them
an answer that made a good
argument for the Taser, for
they were right, I guess. A
gun is a aun is a gun, no
matter what it is called. •
(92, p.4)
 "' --
FOR AS LUi'\(; as the rising crime rate has been an
.' - anguishing national issue. and ever since the control of
_civil disturbance became at least <: potential problem for
~: the nation's police forces. the search has been on for a-
~ more humanitarian and less provocative alleruative to
- the gun as a defensive device. For a time. some police
~ departments were experimenting with rubber bullets ·to
. stop fleeing felons. but the idea flopped. During the urban
: rioting. somebody came up with a foam that could be
spread on the street and (Hake it impossible for the
. -rioters to stand up. but it turned out the police and
firemen wouldn't be.able -to stand up either. Then there
- _was the question of whaJ to do with all thatfoam. __
Now there is a new product'. whose sales are breaking
-records across the countrv. It is called the Taser
(because it rhymes with laser: and it is supposed tohelp
. the ordinary citizen Iend off an assailant. It is a device
- about the size of a flashlight and in fact one component is
a fJashlight)But the other component is the' important
one. It consists of twosmall barbs with the appearance of
tiny harpoons. Like theharpoon, they are attached to a 15
.foot cord.' When-not in use. the cord is coiled and tilt'
Taser is kept in.a holst~r! When the Taser is to be laun-
. ched, a trigger is pressed and the two harpoons sink into
the flesh of the opponent.and produce an incapacitating
shock.of 5U.UUO volts. . of weapons. In fact. there cOT1.1es· a point where the
Jests have shown that' normally healthy people-can . existence of the weapons in and of themselves poses at
sustain such shock 'without any apparent permanent
effect. It is therefore argued by the proponents of the
Taser that it is far more humane than a handgun as a
weapon of defense 1'01' homeowners and others concerned
about their personal security, It is because of that eon-
tention that the device has sold well, even at the con-
('ffee! of ;jO.lHlli volts 011 :-;01I11'OIll' equipped \1"1111 an
electronic pacemaker. for example. Several retail
outlet:-; that market till' dl>"ic{' have reported haviug a
portion of their supply stolen, almost a uuaranu-o that
tile devices will he turning up more and III III'!' fn'qlll'Il11y
in the hands of criminals.
So we cnrne to a weighing of social bcnciits and
liabilities. Naturallv. it would be best in all events if
citizens would leave the gunplay and the Buck Kogel'S
inventions alone and simply insist that the police do their
job. Citizens should not ha ve to feel the need to be armed
in a tamed and civilized society. And yet, our society is
already armed to the teeth with 4U million .handguns,
several times' that number of long guns. bows 'and
arrows, knives. crossbows. axes-and nowTasers. In
such a circumstance, it would be easy to argue that the
Taser is an advancement because it appears til he !P:-;s
lethal than a gun. . '
The trouble' is that thereis no way to tell who's going to
get the most out 'of the Taser. There is a good chance the
criminals will be attracted to the Taser and soon have IIw
capability of workingtheir coercive will on the citizenrv
with vet another device. In other words. the Taser is part
of the civilian arms nice, and like that other. larger.
global arms race there is rio proven security in numbers-
least as much of adanger as that against which they are
to be used. The Taser is 'what might be called. at the
Pentagon. a first generation weapon. It's success is
almost certain to bring imitations and innovations with
tl](' probabilitv that citizens will he less saft' instead /If
more.
. - '

siderable price of $:WO: .'

If it ';"ere possible to guarantee tha t only good and lil\\' S(nec Tascr is il'l its' infancy. this is as good a time as
abiding citizenscouldgettbelr-hands-on this device any to declare asamatter.of public policy that almost
--and use ft with the greatest care-s-the story might Cllivlhing that adds tothe civilian arms race is a.s
conceivably end here with applause for good old Yankee <;la;;gerous to the civilian as (6 the criminal. if not more
ingenuity. Unfortunately there is another and much so~ .The mechanism available for that declaration is thv
darker side to the Taser-storv. From Florida and a Consumer Product SafetvCommission. The eornmission
'nuD1ber of other. places reports 'havebeen accumulating . has before it a petition P~.oposing to ban-this device as a
about the employmentofjthisdevice in holdups. The' harmful product. .Unle!,!s:.it .can somehow be demon-
victims have describedbeing hit with an extraordinary' strated-which we strongl~',~ou?t-~hat on balanc~ the
and excruciating pain.tsorne people lose consciousness Taser can make a decisivecontribution to the security oj
altogether) before reaii~ng that they were about to be '. law-abiding citizens. the Commis~ion s??uld. approvl.> the
robbed. There has not. Q~~l_~repOI:t ..,oj <I Tfiser-related._::. bane' The.Ja.s~ ,thingJ.?c}a~s'1Pl:.ohfcl:a~lI1g.civilian arms
t'atalitv. .-vet. hut doctors
. . wonder and -worry
. - . about the race needs. II seems tOUS,lS a high-voltage harpoon. .

(93)
 ThermEcon
The Thermal Energy Conversion System
x~~x
XJMII~~.UlxX

August 27th

Dear Mary.
Enjoyed. talking with you the other day.
Enclosed is a brief description of the Thermecon
system. It was intended primarily for business men
so it doesn't get into much technical data.
Hopefully it will answer some basic questions.
We are in the process of building a 40 foot high
Proof of Principle model. It should be completed
in a few weeks & will be used to show to companies
& interested financial types.
We then want to raise several million dollars to
build a 1000kW revenue producing power plant which
will be the pilot plant for a whole generation of
clean, co-generating power plants.
We hopeI I
To me, a fascinating prospect is tieing Thermecon
into the Earths geothermal structure ••• there is
enough heat in the mantle & core to keep us going
for billions of years.
This won't happen for quite awhile tho - say 2050 -
because much must be learned about deep well technology
& how to couple into the heat source. Ocean installations
may be the way to go because the Earth's skin is thin
near the bottom, there is plenty of water to heat, &
the installations will be almost totally submerged.
Now, aren't you sorry you asked?
I hope we will have another visit soon. In the meantime,
all the very best to you.

(94, pp.1-6)
 ThermEcon
The Thermal Energy Conversion System
P.O. Sex 2000. *36
'Mission Viejo. CA 82080

Summary of the Thermecon Energy Conversion System & the T.E.C.

Partnership

Introduction - the TEe Partnership was formed in 1982 to provide

guidance and funding for continued research and patent protection
of the Thermecon concept. Early work focused upon MHO generators,
low temperature operation for compatibility with alternate energy
sources, and the possibility of production of inexpensive, pure
hydrogen.
During the intervening time, numerous meetings and discussions
with utilities, companies in the power production field and experts
involved with energy programs, as well as paid consultants, has led
to broadening the scope of the system and using more conventional
and lower cost hardware implementations.
Two patents issued in 1984 and a third will be granted shortly.
We have a s.trong proprietary position and a system capable of being
built and operated at low cost with good flexibility and versatility.
There are a wide .range of immediate applications and we believe
Thermecon can develop into a primary international source of electric
power production.
We have now arrived at the point of building and demonstrating the
system operation. This will be done with the Proof ·of Principle
'model which will also be used to test certain parameters and is not
intended to produce revenues.
Following the Proof phase, .which we expect to take'about six months,
we wish to build a r~venue'producing power plant operating at around
the 1000 kW l~vel. We are investigating the possibility of using
methane from a land fill .or cogeneration using waste heat.
System Description - in its simplest form, Thermecon may be thought
of as being a closed loop hydroelectric power plant, the configura-
tion consisting of two vertical pipes interconnected at the top and
the bottom with horizontal pipes to complete the tubular loop through
which water, or other working fluids,flows.
The water is pumped up in one column and drops down in the adjacent
column. Pumping is accomplished by a vaporizing pump fluid heated
by the thermal input to the temperature at which it changes state
from liquid to vapor at the pressures existing in the upward flow
column. The resulting bi-phase mixture - water and vapor bubbles -
is less dense than the pure water in the adjacent downflow column,
c'r-eating a pressure 'head'.
The resulting pressure difference between the two columns is used to
drive a turbine and generate electric power. Alternatively, it is
possible to achieve this pressure difference by converting the heat
~nput into high pressure gases. which can then be injec·ted directly
1nto the uprlow column.
The use of this bi-phase technique provides an extremely simple
system for converting heat energy into a continuous flow of liquids
(94, p.2)
 -~-

through a power producing loop. There are, of course, a number

of possible configurations including multiple,.adjacent, inter-
connected(thermally) loops.
Thermecon is capable of working with good efficiency at temperatures
as low as 150-200 0F. It therefore can be used with solar, geothermal
and waste heat inputs. We believe that it is' superior· to other
technologies such as photovoltaics, heliostatic solar systems and
low temperature Rankine cycle turbines in cost and at least equal
in efficiency.
There is also no basic reason why it will not operate well at higher
temperatures, up to. and including those typical of conventional
steam power plants, but at this juncture we have not put much effort
into systems operating above 5000F. This will be one of the tasks
in our continuing R&D program •
.Thermecons design flexibility enables it to 'be adapted to a wide
range of power outputs. For example, power can be increased by a
simple scaling upward of the tubular loop size. Power is proportional
to height, square of the tUbe diameter and the density of the driving
fluid.
At this point, we are surveying various structural implementations
such as sub-surface structures similar to oil well technology, either
on land or in the ocean. Multiple. vertical columns, 1000 to )000 it
deep(or more), can provide any amount of power needed.
An exciting, longer range possibility, is that of combining Thermecon
with deep-well technology to.tap into the almost unlimited supply
of geothermal energy within the Earth's mantle.
Since Thermecon is a closed system, and does not need to use environ-
. mentally sensitive or toxic materials, it can be co-located with
the consumers. Our long range goal is to develop it into a universal
power producing system capable of operating with a wide range of
thermal energy sources.

(94, p.3)
 _ .1

THERMAL ENERGY CONVERSION SYSTEM

(Basic Loop)

In its simplest form, Thermecon may be thought of as being a

closed loop hydroelectric power plant. As shown, two vez:otical
pipes are interconnected at top and bottom with horizontal-
pipes to form a tubular loop through which water or other
.working fluids flow. "
Water is pumped upward in'one column and flows downward in
the other. Pumping is accomplished by injecting a vaporizing
liquid at the proper point so that the resulting bi-phase flow
lowers the overall density In theupflow column. - .

vapor ~
condenser

vapor pum£ fluid

collector
-- - - - - T - .

j
J•
,.J
;::====-~~~ water out

40-- heat" in
...
C===~ ~~ ,injection
", ...

.start of turbine
vaporization

-(94, p.4)
 I
""tical Performance of
.,l· i
fTI .. "",.. ....

i Mechanical
.... j.
I : ... [.
I . :
I I
1:
J
.., ..
'

.
I
1
i I
I

I
I

J f . ;
I

.Ind ex to data points (TEC=.Thennecon) Examples of relation l'

j
I

:1 ): Boeing 'Dalles 300 ' windmills (2.,5rnW) betwee~ power 1& si~e I
'2.L SCE Solar One(Barstow)10mW ,300+ft . 15'x8"~ lkW(house sized)
i
i
:3); TEC-400 I x 2 0 ' ,36mvl(same size as SDG~E:
: . . Carlsbad smoke. stack) i ' !
10 axli i.,.. 10 kW; i
400x5' '- 1000kW :
I ',I, I
! 4) Seguaro,Ariz. ,Solar-720 '.640acres,56mW
:5):TEC 256mW. 150'x 150~ . : : : ; ; ;
I 40~~50 ~ I 100mW
I
! I
i
! ,6); TEe 1400mW/8.00x50' : I ; , ' I
i!
I
7 ) ~ Hoover Dam ! I : : I
I
'8) i TEC-150xlOO I· '
i J

1
I
;9)iTEC l50x50 'using working fluid lOx:
'1 denser th~n ~a~e~1 ~ower= 2,650mW i
,
I
J,
- ;. : .. i ! • l' ! I

I
I
I
I
. !
, i
) I !
1

I I
j
I
! j I
I
I
j
i I I I
I
II
I
I

I i
,'9 '. l-
I
I I

l
' ,

Po"WER
I
megaw
I "
tts '
100 ft'
Power.
I MW I
!
i
I
1-500
, I
I
i diam. ,
j I I

·l- ~ I _. ,, - ... .J
1 I.
i
I
.,I
.. !
1

I!
.!. I
I
I
i
I
I
i
;
! Oil Well Technology I '
(small diameter pipes)
8 50 -or: skyscraper sized
~ i I I I I
I! II
ft dia.
I I I i
I
I
40
I
iI i
I
I
I
!
I
I
I
I
I 30
I' ·1 .I! I ·
rO~
I
I I

14'
·1
I i
: 20
I
,._.
t ,I
1

J
I 1
1 '.j
I
I r.
II 1
I I
I 10
I

!
I
I I
I
20 ft.' dia._
J I
t
t
I x4
t I

ii
I
1 00 feet I
I thousands
.Ol~
(height) .i (Height)
I ' I I .
j . , I I p feet
: I I! (94,I
I
.:

r i I
:
 ." \ .... .~
~ ---."

""--... _------
~......---,.,..,....~--
.

.'

.1A~e Mea.j
, -..., ~
....
if '--
.- .. ~ _----
......
---
..
,...

Pictorial conce~
of 50ft dia.standpip~
in Thermecon arrays suo-
1#
- ~..._----~_ .
~

~
-
.
.~

I
merged in Lake Mead at Hoc
Dam. 700ft depth with 50ft ~a.
pipe can generate 200mW at ea~~
- -~
-'. c.

of the installations shown(not~

I that Hoover 8c Grand v a number 0

, Ho;1;';;' - ....... -----...-

.... ...

DG..ft1L
50ft dia.penstocks cut thru thousands of
---J'~.
of rock). This same technique can be used ~
".....
.".

lakes, harbors & ultimately in the ocean

~
~
; .
., ~- The internal pressure is equalized by \the

!: Q'\
. '-"
. ..
,
. external press. greatly reducing ~"
- structural problems.
~ ",tJI"lIIiiIj-1IiiiII__- -.....;

". ----------~-
. I
: -,--+.
.•
"
.j
.~

\, . . ._. I ".". • • I :,.

I

.. r" "
«r r --.-,.-~::.:J: --- . -. .
'\ ,.~.~'.", W~_·}~~,~, ,-.:.~d·'.~~~i,:;;!1~
:>: - - - - - - - - . - . "

" '>'>~:'."
- .~ -, '. () - .. .., . : .. '.-;"'. ,""';'.". '.
. \ .-~. . .. Monday"November 2,1964:·'':'' .

..Un iversity·~ Psychol,ig ist,1s-StuCly -&f 'Gro'W!1r

,~ How important is timing in the Harold E;·.Jones who died in liant, flexible andi.toleran~
process of growing up? .' :1960~8s ;'a:J!o-founder of·the;";o:to show.:.greater-dntellectuai:~Jn.-
Is the 'late blooming youth .at ,.study-.a~~~a;illlso.a director of.'- terests, "'; "':~-'$_ ;...... ~ ~
~., a disadvantage? Does he pay as the Univers~ty: In..titute of Hu·.. Yet, no significant differences
an adult for going through adoles- man Development. His widow, in tested mental ability were de-
cence as a "shorty"? Can he Mary, now. Professor Emerita of tected between the early and late
catch up? Education ane; Research Associ·· .
Answers 10 these questions are ate at both th~~ Institute and at ma-tur~ng lads.. .
becoming available through re- . Stanford .Uni'iersity, . has. been . ~unng adolescence, :MlSS Jones.
search conducted .by Mary C. intimately inVolved . with . the said, the lat~ bloomer, on the avo
Jones, University psyoholo~sr. growth study,¥nce its inception. erage short m stature.. developed
~Ds.s Jones, in a paper prepared . She points flut in her latest a~ ~r:nor of pep, aJ1lmatlO~,. ~.
for a division meeting of the..:findings that;.most of the study -c!abll1ty, good nature and initia-s
.American Psychological Associa- group comes .f,rom middle class, tive. .
:tion, says resul·ts of her latesTn- urban backgrounds . with about .. By age 16, she added, "some
.terviews show that as adults the . one-half the boiys going on to col- of this ammunit.ion had proved
I well-built lad who matures early .Iege and about vone-third enter- inadequate."
. and his late blooming counter- . ing professions; Thus the findings She sa-id most of the study par.
" .part generally wind up as physi- must be limited to this general tlcipants knew the timing of their
cal equals. However, psychologi- middle class ~up. . development, making known this I
cal differences are apparent to Miss Jonesl found the early fact through statements made dur~.
some degree, she says. maturing .adolescent in general ing adult interviews:
Miss Jones arrived at these con- made a good Unpression in adult- "'1 was slight and wished to be'
elusions from interviews with hood, is poised, .responsible, . heavier and taller. n ·· • -..-.: - .,."
participants in the . Oakland achieves in- eenformity with so- . "I was big enough . '• .n' - •
· Growth Study, a monumental re- .elety's expectations, and. is . less "When I .went to shows the~
·search project involving follow.' Incllned to being neurotic. . wouldn't let me in for a dime."
t. up of individuals in five classes . All this.:.sI!e states, possibly Miss Jones told the APA's Di-
,of Oakland fifth graders in 1932. - can be tied .to. achievement of a vision of Developmental Psychol-
Observa-tions, tests, and mea- satisfactory ~ial status early in ogy in-her division' presidential
surements along with the inter- .life and the f~ubsequent desire address that her 32 years with
· views have been carried out at to cling to the; successful pattern ·the one project showed her "nei-
· regular intervals since ·that time. of adaptation..' ther computers, case numbers;
· A reunion of those remaining in _The late maturers, she says, group averages nor theoretical
the study, 100 out of the original were more expressive as adoles- formulations can separately, or
200, was held October 25 at the cents, possibly' due to a less fav- 'combined, submerge the individ-
University's Harold -E. Jones orable social Status, and tended ual, if you know the data as per-
-:hild Study Center in Berkeley. in adulthood .~ be more self reo sons." .:'..." . _

Copy given by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones for inclusion
herein

(95)
 Passing ThrOltgh
.
Spanned 50 Years
By LOU McCREADY .
m~~, New Y?rk City; Anna L
j
WIIhams. Arlington, Va.; Ralph
Men and women who were Coleman Cleveland a credit
graduated from Johnstown High executiv;, and Edna Page
School in 1915 came face to face,
Davies Secane Delaware
at a 50th reunion dinner here, county: '
with this realization: It's im-
possible to cover more than 'Joe's' Big Surprise
the high spots, the events of out- J h Ned rl d r' 75th
standing importance, in reo . osep e aJI e s
Icounting the happenings since birthday was a m~morable day,
;they attended classes under H. thanks to those WIth who~ the
IJ. Stockton. then principal. ~ell.~oWD Westmont resident
.Ninety-nine persons who : at- sings m ~e Rodef Sholom Syna·
'tended the dinner at Sunnehanna gogue- cholr. It all starte? when
CountrY Club included members lUr. and. Mrs. J~ F!1cdman
of the class, their wives or hus- ~ 441 Tioga street m~lted ~;.:
bands. Of 135 persons on ' the Nederlander "and his wiL,
.roster at· graduation, 43 are de- Isabelle, to . co~; over and
ceased. The survivors Include play so~e .bndge. Mr; Neder-I
n:
4 officers· who' live here: lander 15. JUst. a~ ady to a~ .
.;\Iaurice ..Pearman, president; -eept a bnd~e ~V1~tion as he 15
J. R. (Bob) Rutledge, vice to pack his fishing gear and
I
president; IUarion McMullen head ~or some nearby stream.
Smith, secretary, and Clay .\t Fnedmans the Nederlanders
llarshberger, who replaced Dr. fo~~ so.me 25 people assembled
lames D. Lewis, necellsed, as to Jom 10 a surp?SC party for
treasurer. . . the ·Houtzdale n..tive and opera-
. tor of the South Fork Insurance
Th~ class he!d one previous Agency. Mr. Nederlander is.
reunion, on its 25th. a~- president of the choir and one of:
versary. T?at th~ ~h reunion its origlnat :members. He is
was e~peclally significant was among the group's soloists. i
underlined by a~end~nce ~f Harold Golomb, the syna-
members fr?m California, Flori- gogue's choir director, and l'Irs.
da and Anzona, among other Bernice Coppersmith. assistant
states. Those. who can;e fr~m director, filled key roles in
the more distant points In- arranging the surprise affair.
eluded Dr. Mary Cover Jones,
who was accompanied by her S
sister, Mrs. Louise Cover Hill. Award fOT teuiart
Both live in Berkeley, As everyIDoviegoer knows,
Calif., where Dr. Jones is a Indiana-born James Stewart is
professor in research at Stan- an actor whose adult life has
fc~d University. She was en been filled with acclaim for hi,
route to a scientific meeting in screen work. He will be spot-
Toronto, Canada. Dr. Jones and lighted again-and this time
Mrs. Hill are sisters of Dr. John close to the town of his birth-
n. Cover, who wrote the school's when he is presented the Dis-
alma mater and who is retired tinguisbed Actor Award by the
from the faculty of University Allied Motion Picture Theater
of Maryland. Other class memo Owners of America in Pittsburgh
hers from California attending Oct. ·14. The awards ceremony
were Dr. Virginia Lewis Ryle, will highlight the erganlza-
jisycbiatrist, of Imola, 'and tion'sbanquet in· connection with
Harry G. Rose of Sierra Madre, its national convention in the
who as a Johnstowner was con- Penn-Sheraton Hotel Mr.
nected with W. J. Rose & Sons, Stewart's late parents were 1Ur.
former lumber company. . and Mrs. Alex Stewart, the for'l
, The "distant" list also in- mer a hardware merchant on,
"eluded· J)Irs. Margaret Cook Indiana's main street for many]
Slick, Scottsdale, Ariz.; Dr. years. This is James Stewart's'
. Francis Broderick, Fort Lauder- 30th year in motion pictures. He
' dale, Fla., and Oscar Naugle, currently is starring in "Shenan-\
Jackson, Mich., who is dis- doah" ... Howard Wendell's
I tinguished as an author and talent for character parts
I world traveler. Among others be demonstrated again when hel
[present , were. Walter Holm- is seen in Walt Disney's "The
willl
;quist, Warren, Ohio, president, Further Adventures of Gal-
'Copperweld Steel Co.; Donald legher" on WJAC·TV at 7:30
Gocher, Drexel Hill; Ralph Por- p. m. Sunday. Mr. Wenden
ter, Tarentum; Paul Walker, blossomed as a producer in dii
who publishes the Home Star in recting plays for the former
Harrisburg; Ida Weisberg Taub~ Joh~~~w~.~ttl: The~ter. . !

The Johnstown Tribune, c. May 1965

(96)
-' J~

Copy given by the late Dr. Mary Cover Jones for inclusion herein.

1.

CORREIATES AND ANTECEDENTS OF

ADULT DRINKING PATTERNS

Mary Cover Jones

W.P.A. Paper, Honolulu, Hawaii

June 18, :J.965

The object of this study is to examine the use of alco-

holic beverages in a non-deviant sample for whom ~ensive

developmental data are available.

The Oakland Growth Study (formerly the Adolescent Growth

Study) at the University of California Institute of Human

Development was begun in 1932 when two hundred cooperating

members were in the fifth and sixth grades. The purpose of

the longitudinal research was to study the physical, mental,

and personality growth of a normal sample to find variations

amoung and within individuals over a period of time.

These Oakland children who planned to go to the same

junior and senior high school were tested, measured, watched,

rated and described over seven school years and at three peri-

ods in adulthood.

At each of the three follow-up sessions, questions about

drinking were asked. But only. in the last, 1964 1 survey at

age forty-three were interviews systematic and extensive in

this area. Over 100 study members p'artici~ated.

( 97, pp. 1-13 )
 2.

-
t the sam e tim e th at th is sm all lon git ud ina l sam
At ab ou
bli c
s be ing su rve ye d, the Ca lif or nia De pa rtm en t of Pu
ple wa
ink ing
alt h wa s co nd uc tin g an ex ten siv e stu dy of the dr
He
ple in
se lec ted rep res en tat ive sam
pr ac tic es of a ca re fu lly
co .
Be rke ley and in Sa n Fr an cis
ink -
ve ral rep or ts on the fre qu en cy and qu an tit y of dr
Se
ag e,
in va rio us su b-g rou ps , cla ss ifi ed on the ba s1 s of
10 g
m th at
tu s ha ve be en rep or ted fro
se x, an d so cio -ec on om ic sta

stu dy l.
ge r, mo re rep res en tat ive
In co mp ari son wi th th is lar
som e-
, the me mb ers of the Oa kla nd Gr ow th Stu dy rep or t
sam pla
fig ur es
me re dr ink ing . In the he av y dr ink ing ca teg or y,
wh at
pe r ce nt
the two stu di es . Ab ou t!O
ar e co mp ara ble fo r men 1n
women in
th is cla ss ifi ca tio n. Bu t
of the sam ple s fa ll in to
dr ink ing ca teg ory are mo re nu me rou s fo r the Oa kla nd
the he av y
ple : 23 ~s com par ed wi t~
17 pe r ce nt . In al l
Gr ow th Stu dy sam
S. me mb ers .
teg or ies the sex dif fer en ce s. ar e les s fo r the O. G.
ca
in er s, an d
nt of the women are ab sta
Po r ex am ple , on ly 8 pe r ce
of the
com par ed wi th 20 pe r ce nt
6 pe r ce nt of the me n, as
r
the Ca lif or nia Dr ink ing Pr ac tic es Stu dy and 15 pe
women in

ce nt of the me n.
n .
e ob vio us rea so n fo r th is dif fer en ce in cor nsu mp tio
On

fer ,G en ev iev e and Ro qrn , R. , Dr ink ing in a Me tro -

1. Kn up
ob ., 12 -2: 22 4-2 40 , 19 64 .
po lit an Co mm uni ty, ~ . Pr
(97 , p.2 )
 3.

between the samples is socio-economic. The oakland Growth

Study members are all high school graduates and forty per cent

of the men had at least some college education. This educa-

tional superiority is reflected in'a higher occupational

status. It is accepted that the higher income bracket, the

higher the consumption of alcohol and the less the sex dif-

ferences in drinking--women of higher education and income .

drink more. Among. the members of the Oakland Growth Study

those who said they had been drinking more in recent years

gave as a frequent reason for this increased comsumption,

~Because we can afford it now."

Another very probable reason for the higher consumption

reported by our sample, especially for the women, may be re-

lated to the fact that they are giving information to a per-

son with whom they have communicated frankly and extensively

at intervals for over thirty years. There may have been less

tendency to minimize consumption under these circumstances.

More salient than a comparison of heavy, moderate, light

and non-drinkers is that of problem drinkers with others. We

know that alcoholics are usually recruited from the heavy

drinking population but it is desirable to find some variables

which d1stinguish between those who become dependent or compul-

sive and those who do not.

This paper compares those who are problem drinkers, or

(97, p.3)
 4.

alcoholics, with other categories of drinkers.

The adult measures to be reported today are for a self-

report inventory--the California Personality Inventory (CPI)

and a projective technique, the Murray Apperception Test.

For the C.P.I. analysis, the drinking classifications are

based on interview material obtained when the study members

were thirty-eight years old. (The age nearest to the adminis-

tration of the C.P.I.) Other classifications are based on the

1964 data.

Three judges, including the late E. M. Jellinek, an author-

ity in the field of alcohol research, rated the statements about

drinking. Judged as a problem drinker was the man who described

his crinking in these terms: "At times I feel like Il ve become

an alcoholic. I can drink alone like I might a glass of milk.

It's not a social thing. I'm capable of anc really have con-

sumed the booze. live hac my share of black outs."

A moderate drinker reports: "I like to drink. Socially,

only a couple before dinner, at a party four or five. 11

The abstainer can be recognized by the statement: "I'm

very much against crinking. I think there is something to the

ic5ea that drinking may lead someone else to drink .11

Table ~ shows that the problem drinkers earned signifi-

cantly lower scores on the scales for Responsibility, Socializa-

tion, Self Control, GOod Impression, Achievement via Conformity,

(97, p.4)
 5.

presence, Flexibility and Undercontrol. (The control scales

have been developed. at the Xnstitute of Human Development by

Jack Block.)

The scales which seem to be describing the problem drink-

er favorably, at least from the names of the scales and some

of the accompanying adjectives, are those for Social Presence

and FleXibility. However, we must consider that these are

coupled with high scores on Undercontrol and low scores on the

various scales relating to Responsibility. They must also be

interpreted in the light of the individual items which differ-

entiate the grvups. The evidence indicates that one could be

more impulsive than flexible to earn a high score on the Flexi-

bility scale. From other data on problem drinkers, it is highly

probable that ~pulsivitY is what we are measuring. (Harrison

Gough concurs with this opinion.)

High scores for the Social Presence Scale suggests that in

the case of some problem drinkers we have the ster~otype of the

drinker who finds solace in the cup shared with comradQS,

An analysis of the individual C.P.X. items comparing prob-

lem, moderate, and non-drinkers, corroborates this impression.

Problem drinkers marked items expressing aggression, masculinity,

attention-seeking behavior and extroverted socialibility."At

times I feel like picking a fight." "X like to be the center

of attention." "I am a good mixer." They reject statements,

(97, p.5)
 6.

such as, "I woul d like the work of a libra rian ," "I
used to
keep a diar y." Lack of cont rol and rejec tion of auth ority
are show n in state men ts such as thes e: ·Plan ning in adva nce
take s the fun out of life ,· MI have often gone agai
nst my
pare nts' wish es."

On the Flex ibili ty scal e, they more ofte n indic ate

that
they star t thing s they neve r finis h and make judgm ents
with out
bein g sure of the fact s.

This prob lem drink ing group is also more read y to admi
t
unso cial beha vior, both as adul ts and retro spec tivel
y as chil d-
ren, "I have been in trou ble beca use of my sex b'Slh
avior ," "I
used to stea l as a youn gster ," "I have used alco hol
exce ssive ly."
Such admi ssion s migh t seem to indi cate remo rse but
coup led
with the respo nses indic ated abov e th¥m ay be inter
prete d as
a lack of feeli ng such as is attri bute d to a ~sychopath.

The liter atur e on the respo nses of alco holic s to the

M.M .P.I. unifo rmly repo rts a high P.D. (psy chop athic
devi ate)
- .,
scal e scor e•.

Our findi ngs on the M.M .P.I. scale s for this samp le
are
in agree ment with this find ing.

MacAndrews and Geer tsma in an anal ysis of the respo

nses
of alco holic s to the P.D. scal e conc luded that just
three item s
were resp onsi ble for the alco holi c's sign ifica ntly
high er scor es.
Thes e were , II have used a Lccho L exce ;sive ly," "I have
not lead the
(97. p.6)
 7.

right kind of life." and (for non-alcoholics) "I have never

been in trouble with the law."

The TAT themas were investigated using the MCClelland

Atkinson approach as adapted by Arlene Skolnick of the Ins-

titute staff. This provides scores on various aspects of

achievement. affiliation, power and agression.

Table £ shows the significant differences be~een prob-

lam drinkers and moderate drinkers. High scores indicate ~re

of the characteristic. The results are similar when problem

drinkers are compared with other categories of dr1nkers.

In adolescence, comparisons yield few significant findings

which suggests that for this sample the TAT is not a useful

measure for predicting adult drinking behavior. From the CPI

scores on Social Presence we might expect the problem drinkers

to have high scores on "Affiliation," which is not the case.

The definition of "Affiliation" in the TAT scoring is "the roo-

tivation to be socially acceptable." This may imply a more

conforming sort of striving for status than the CPI Social

Presence Scale measures. The other categories yield results

clearly in line with expectations.

To summarize the adult comparisons, the report indicates

that while the number of cases is small, the social status

more select than we would wish for research purposes and the

geographic area mostly confined to California, nevertheless

(97, p.l)
 8.

results in regard to personality variables conform to those

reported in other studies with more representative samples

and with a larger population.

The most important aspect of this study should come from

a comparison of adult drinking practices with measures obtained

in earlier years before drinking behavior had been established.

For this report only two measures will be discussed.

These are (1) the observational ratings of social and emotional

behavior for boys and (2) a self-report inventory of social and

emotional adjustment.

The free play observational ratings were made when small

like-sexed groups came to the University semi-annually for

study. During the noon hour, s~ or eight boys one day or girls

the next day, with some .friendships represented, ate lunch and

·engaged in activities in a play yard equipped with appropriate

materials for the age group. Three staff members, one man and

two women, participated in these free-play situations, subse-

quently rating each school child and writing descriptive com-

ments to accompany the ratings.

Here are reported the comparisons for the various drinking

groups on observational rating scores which were averages, (1)

for the junior high school period, (2) for the senior high

school period. Thus the scores represent the combined judg-

ments of three raters at each six month period, and then, these

(97, p.8)
 9.

combined ratings averaged over the three year junior high

school period and ~wo years of senior high SCh001. 1

The significant differences which are shown in Table 2

illustrate the findings and convincingly portray an interesting

story for the men. Adult problem drinkers, during their junior

high school years were having a glorious time in social situa-

tions with other boys of their acquaintance. The evidence is

overwhe~~ing. In twenty-five of the.thirty-nine ratings, the

male problem drinkers, as young boys received significantly

higher ratings than heavy drinkers. 2 Comparisons with the

moderate drinkers show even more numerous differences and the

percentage holds up well also for the non-drinker comparison.

These characteristics include a number of measures of

outgoingness, of self acceptance and of good spirits. Also

inclucec are significantly higher ratings on masculine behavior

and on uninhibitedness. Conversely, the future heavy and

moderate drinkers are rated as better groomed rather than

unkempt: more submissive (as contrasted with bossy), more

matter of fact.

The social activities of those who were later to become

1. Since some students graduated early or transferred to

technical high schools in the senior year, scores for the
last year are less comple~e and have not been included.
2. Heavy drinkers in this sample of men are fairly frequent
and therefore, not atypical.

(97, p.9)
 10.

problem drinkers were those of the preadolescent type which

flourished in the same-sex friendship groups.

When we compare this picture with that of the boys in

larger mixed group situations we find that they are still

much interested in social contacts, but they do not achieve

the same outstanding status. On the contrary, they are ob-

served to use attention-getting devices and to resist author-

ity. 1

Turning now to the senior high scho~l period (Table 1) we

again see what has happened as these boys move from junior to

senior high school rank. The social superiority which differ-

entiated them earlier is on the wane. Their ratings no longer

differ significantly from those of classmates.

Some of these boys, 'now men, can very well document the

tide of events which accompanied this change ~ status and

their emotional reactions to them. So also can the staff mem-

bers who observed these individuals and rated their behavior

and motivations over the study years. The latency period

(childhood) was the hey-day fo~ these boys: the transition

1. Several recent studies of smoking in youth have emphasized

the relationship of masculinity and rebelliousness to
snoking. The same arguments could be advanced here in
regard to drinking. (1) Seltzer, C.C., Masculinity and
Smoking, Science, 130, December IB, 1959, pp 1706-1707. (2)
Stewart, L. and Livson, N., Smokin9 and Rebelliousness: A
Longitudinal Study from Childhood ,to Maturity. Unpublished
Manuscript, Institute of Human De~elopment, University of
California, Berkeley, 1964, (The Oakland Growth Study Sam-
ple, is included in this report.) I :
 11.

to manhood and heterosexual orientation, di~ficult.l

Eddy is an example. Eddy's period of greatest success

and satisfaction was that of childhood and preadolescence.

During the latency period when same-sex relationships were

most gratifying, Eddy was a popular, enthusiastic, skillful,

Enetgetic, cheerful, productive individual. Though a slow

reader, (optometric tests revealed some muscular difficulties)

he had above average ability. His motor performance and

strength were superior in spite of his small size and he had

the highest energy level in the grou~ (basal metabolic rate).

His vital capacity and exercise tolerance indicated physio-

logical superiority. So successful was Eddy in this period

that he seems to have II jelled" into a boyish pattern of

thinking and behavior which has remained with h~ throughout

his life, now well into the forties.

Evidence for this statement can be well documented from

longitudinal study records for the early years and from his

~nostalgic references from adult interviews. An interviewer

reported: "Eddy described in precise and loving detail boyhood

games, at age 38 J as if he had just played them yesterday and

would play them ~sain tomorrow."

1. The girls w40 later became problem drinkers show an

entirely diiferent and lQss consistent pattern which
will be reported at a later time. They crave social
contacts b~t have neither the tech~iques nor the self
confidence ~o achieve satisfactory relationships
either in the same-sex or mixed g~up situations.

(97, p.ll)
 12.

nt
In the ninth grad e obse rvers noted Ma rath er sign ifica

chan ge" in Eddy 's beha vior. He was desc ribed as dest ructi ve,

inso lent, rebe lliou s ana self ish. Ratin gs brou ght all the
bouy ancy
poin ts of his stand ing on pres tige, conf iden ce and

down shar ply this year . (Figu res 1 and 2)

durin g
Thir y year s late r, Eddy was to tell us that it was
ds, no
this perio d of uphe aval that he and a grou p of frien
mate s,
long er attun ed to the soci al acti vitie s of thei r class
wher e
estab lishe d a retre at in the hill s beyo nd the city
of thei r
throu gh alco hol tbEy reliv ed some of the glor ious fun

chilo hood days . Para doxi cally , they were also tryin g to con-

vinc e them selve s of thei r manh ood. "We'd drink beer , sing like

craz y and the sobe rest guy woul d drive home . Some times we

coul dn't make it and had to stay over nigh t."

the
A self repo rt inve ntory admi niste red year ly throu gh
us
j~~i or and seni or high scho ol year s was anaiy zed for the vario

drink ing cate gori es. The resu lts at age 14 are prese nted in

Tab le!. The probl em drin kers have sign ifica ntly lowe r scor es

in all the area s illus trate d. Ther e are no comp ensat ory find -
stme nt,
ings for othe r meas ured vari able s, such as fami ly adju
. The self -
lack of tensi ons or the absen ce of phys ical symp toms
adju stme nt
imag e of the prob lem drin ker in regar d to his soci al
soci al pres -
corre spon ds to the obse rver 's desc ripti on of wani ng
scor es
tige at that time , and to the 1qwe r TAT Affi liati on

(97, p.12)
 13.

which were found.

These comparisons of the youthful characteristics of

groups whose drinking patterns varied in adulthood indicate

that differences in behavior and in fundamental self-concepts

were discernable in the formative years.

To modify such complex processes as are here represented,

the approach must consider both the interacting social forces

and the personal attributes Which determine individual

motivation.

(97, p.13)
Winter 1969

The G. Stanley Hall Award for Distinguished Contributions

to Developmental Psychology

The second annual G. Stanley Hall Awards were presented to Mary Cover
Jones and Lois Stolz at the American Psychological Association convention in
San Francisco on September 2, 1968. Following are the citations.

MARY COVER JONES

Our divisional award for outstanding contributions to developmental

psychology could not be more fittingly awarded than to Mary Cover Jones.
For almost half a century, across the age span from infancy through middle
age, and on both sides of this continent, she has been a pioneer in research
on emotional and social development.

Her early series of experiments on the development and elimination of

fears are among the most widely cited in the entire psychological literature.
In 1950 the first of an innovative group of studies by Dr. Jones and her
collaborators on the behavioral correlates and long-term consequences of early
and late maturing appeared. Only ~ few years ago Dr. Jones' presidential
address to this division on that topic extended the range of predictors and
predictions examined.

Among her other pioneering contributions are a report in 1926 on the

development of behavior patterns, such as visual pursuit during infancy;
use of the '~aby-party" technique ten years before its commonly recognized
introduction; a classic paper on the junior high school age; and work on
adolescence, including functional analysis of colloquial speech, peer group
recognition, and secular trends in interests and attitudes. Dr. Jones' cur-
rent research deals with the developmental antecedents of drinking behavior.
In addition, she is an active member of the staff of the intergenerational
longitudinal study recently initiated at the Institute of Human Development
at the University of California, Berkeley.

Mary and Harold Jones produced the first educational television course
on developmental psychology, and she was the first invited participant in a
similar program subsequently offered by the University of Minnesota. As a
professor in the School of Education, Dr. Jones taught undergraduate sections

(98, pp.1-2)
in developmental psychology known not only for their breadth and depth, but
also for their liveliness. Her graduate seminar in social development enjoyed
a comparable reputation and attracted students from a number of disciplines.

The Division on Developmental Psychology does itself honor.in present- )

ing to Mary Cover Jones the G. Stanley Hall Award.

Dorothy Eichorn

The Exec~tive Committee of the Division on Developmental Psyc~olo;y

is accepting nominations once again for the G. Stanley Hall Award. One
or more recipients may be designated. The criterion for selection is
scientific excellence; nominees may be either members or non-members of
Division 7 and may be United States or foreign scholars.
Names of nominees, together with brief justifying statements,
should be sent to the Secretary, Irving Sigel, Merrill-Palmer Institute,
71 East Ferry Avenue, Detroit, Michigan 48202. Nominations should be
made bv March 1, 1969.

(98, p.2)
 -----------------------------------'

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1 JONES. MARY COVER. psychology and education
2JOO 4 researcher. educator: b. Johnstown. Pa .• Sept.
10 1. 1896; d. Charles Blair and Carrie Louise
18 (Higson) Cover; m. Harold E. Jones (dec.):
25 childr~n--Sarbara, Lesley. A.B .• Vassar Coll.,

31 1919; M.A., Columbia U •• 1920. Ph.D., 1926.

38 Diplomate Am. Bd. Profl. Psychology, Am. Bd.
45 Counseling Psychology. Research assoc. U.
50 Calif.-Berkeley. 1927--. assoc. prof. to prof.
57 edn .• 1952-60; cons. intergenerational studies
62 Inst. Human Devel. U. Ca11f.-Berkeley. Author:
68 (with H.E. Jones) Adolescence. 1958,
\-73 Developmental PsychGlogy. rev. 1960: Growth and
,79 Behavior in Adolescence. 1957. 2d rev. (with
86 L.J. A.lexander). 1966: (with N. Bayley, M.P.
93 Honzik and J.W. MacFarlane) The Course of Human
101 Development. 1971: contbr. chpts. to numerous
107 books. Contbr. numerous articles to profl. I
113 jours. and mags. Recipient G. Stanley Hall award
121 child devel. div. Am. Psychol. Assn., 1968,
,2005 3 Inst. Human Devel. award U. Calif.-Berkeley,
9 1969: Laura Spellman Rockefeller fellow. 1924-
14 26. Fellow Am. Psycho1. Assn .• Gerontol. Soc.;
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IU-n ..... .,., r"l_'" ,..... ".,r ., r-
 211 Fairfi$ld Pik~
Yilloi'l Spring;o;, Ohio. 45)87

JUlJT 20, 1970

Doar i·1ary:

Thanklll for tho eolumn npauir:.~ Thrau~h" which \1a:ol my first

knowlcd~il of an anl1.ain~ly erratic "t61Qphon3 int.rvi~wll. As
you may h~ve ~o&s~d, quoteD attributed to roo ar~ th- cr~ation
of tha journali&t, and moat dat~. app'ar to be wron~. Th~ir
nmor~eu, a. nQwspapara tsrmbio;raphieal coll~ction=, n.eda
a computer to aoo.pt hurran Grror2. I~m writing for tho date.

It probably waa 1~y that ~Arj anawer=d the phon. and a voice
enquired, "Don Johnllto"lm mean a.nythin~ to YDU?" Sho replied that
it waa tho birthplaco of hor hus~and, and pasaed tho buck to m~.
It was on. ti)f tha !,loCrQady boys who wc:u our acron-the-.iltroet
nei~hbor2. I r$call upon a viait hom. onjoyini a battle b~two~n
thom and broth~r3 livin~ next to th.m. With strict decorum th:
two paira wa.Lke d homo from s chco, They changl:ld· clothcua and tho
row be~an. The otb~r boy= finally tor$ up their ovm sidewalk and
b.~an tos3in~ brick3 in th~ MoCready yard. Soon th~ r •• p.ctiv~
motherz joined in name callin; to =aoh oth~r; th~ n~i~hbor :houtad
f'r cm th~ !lid: windo\i, so !'!rr.J. :;·icO hung a-¢.ij. quilt on her linu
b l ockd.ng that wind 0''1' • Th~ ne i.ghbor throu~h \·/atr;r on tha quilt.
WhGn ths fatL~rr.i r~turnr,;d the: :1"i~l,bor T'sh c emandcd r ..turn of
hiz brick vlalk; tht: fatll~r 1:cO. s ad d ti:i~y 11.0\l be Long sd to him.
}j sojourn end~d b~fQrQ a 501ution.

Our ~umm~r has b~~n vizorouz, t~mp~ratur~~ ran~in& from th~

ninGtis8 to tho fiftie:. So Ww hav~ u2~d air-conditionar and
fu rna ce , l:;arJ visit",d Olevilland :'ri4nd~ and i,';all"risn; othlJr\'liac
W~IV~ b~~n working in and out of ~tudio, ~tudy, hou~. and yard.

Wish w. eould join you for t~~ Barbara-K~n =ailin~. W3 1 r a

fond of fr~ight~r travGI, but wit~out phy~ician~ aboard tho~o
r.aching ~av~nty are oxclud§d. y~~lll~.sall ~.Qin~ me off on
a Norw=~ian frtJi~htCir h~rQ and tharo for almo~t t\10 merrtha erir out.e
to :Sombay. Returnin;:;, l1ary and I board.d anElthur Normc froi~ht.r
at ~on~ Kon~ for Japan and tha U.S.

'n'2 hope. }.~aryltJ brother, Ch8:::'tgr, and Jun::l and Dave \\'ill
visit um thiG mumm~r. But tho driv~s are lonz and tho waath~r hot.
Dave eraduat"d from co l l,« .~e r ecerrt Iy , H~ L' so all~rgia to cat
fur ot a1, that W~ ara plannin~ to bunk him at th~ Antioch Inn.
Hs i:= taking a child pjycholo~ Ch.D& a.t North Park Oolle~e sum-
~~r z~£~ion a.nd ho.: a t4xt which reprint~ from Ohild D.volopmant,
YOUl' ~tudy with Pa.ul !>lus:lcn, "Seli' Oonc1!lption:i ••.•
11
e ompLs t.e ,

Dav~ reportr. h~ is wnarin~ a cutton, "iajority for a Si1~nt

A~nn\'l." On pae;e 6 of tho July 25 Saturday Rlilvi:nl, an AlQxa.ndria,
Va. voman rllporta finding in Ylcb::.t:zr I s Dictiennry: "3piro::lllter:
an in~trum~l1t for m.eal>urin~ tho air Itntorinz; and IGa.vin~ the lun~"."

u~lll b~ int$r~~tcd in the vJ.ri~d plans of the Coataa family

for the poriod of th. Japan••• ...·",r~~·_
",
•
Love to you 9.r:.d tna :ltlv.ral ~~n4rations, I?~
~~O, pp.l-Z·
 Pa ssi no ThroUgh
. '.' . By Lou ~cCready'"
Wrote Alma Mate r school's Jhlstory many years
after the death of his parents ,
Curiosity prompt ed a call to Mr. and Mrs. Charles B.
Yellow Springs , Ohio, the Cover, and his removal from
other day. -. our city to enter college as a
This 'Call confirmed that the s t e p pin g s ton e t 0 a
John H. Cover living there is distinguished teaching career
t~"funn l:!r Johnstowner, a' and United Nations
service as
membe r of .the Johnstown an economic planning consult-
High School Class of 1911, who ant In the Near East for five -
wrote the words and music years until 1967.
for the:JH S Alma Mater. In his long and many-sided
With comme ncemen t'near .- career, Mr. Cover served as a
.at hand, the song will revive special attache _·at~. the' U.S.
memor ies for many person s,' Embass y in Vienna. Austria ;
among them parents -whc -was professor of economics at'
attend .the,gr aduatio n :'01 Colorado -Colleg e; directe d
their sons and daughters from the Bureau of Business- and
Greate r Johnst own' High . Economic Resear ch ··at'·.the
School. Even today, 60 years. University of Pittsbu rgh (1927·
after.it was written, its words 30); taught at the University
echo and . reecho' in many' of Chicago (1930-41);.and was
minds. - _ _ . a visiting lecture r" at the
Mr. Cover has found in University - of .. Rotterd am,
Yellow-. Springs "the - rural Netherlands. ___ ~.: "
retreat " . he and his wife, Older', Johnsto wners will
Mary L., a profes sional recall Mr. Cover's sisters, .
artist, had long~ tor: as.a Mary, widow of HvpJ.JI).Q..n~
SWItch _ from city life m :nttFtooise>-wife-bLRQ~~rL
Chicago, New York and HiU. Both are Californians.
Washington. Both Mrs. Jones and her late·
"Wear e happy dovn on the husband had been professors"
farm,"M r.Cove rsaid. . on the facult y at the
The JHS alumnus makes University of California. Mrs.
frequent trips to Washington, Jones keeps busy with
his horne area-' for many researc h and writing in the
years, as'. secreta ry of the field of psychology. -
executive commi ttee .and a Mr. Cover numbers Rep.
membe r of the board of John P. Saylor of Southmont
trustees of the National Parks among those with whom he
Associ ation.H ealsose rvesas has a close associ ation
the associa tion's economic through his work for the I
consultant, a role in which he National Parks Association.
has been -active for other He was one of a group of,
organ izatio ns. since his people, many of them high up
retire ment in 1962 as - In the parks association, who,
professor and directo r of the recommended to Preside nt
Bureau of Busine ss and Nixon the naming of Rep.
Economic Resear ch at the- Saylor as secreta ry of the
University of Maryland. interior. .
It was a random perusa lof "The Preside nt, somehow,
officers listed on the National didn't see it our way, as'
Parks Association stationery, history has recorded with the
among them John H. Cover, appointment going to Walter
which led to the question: J. Hickel," Mr. _. Cover '
Could that be "our" John H. reflected.
Cover, the man who had .J-
grown up on Napoleon Street, II
near Haynes, and given to
Johnsto wn High its alma ,-
mater- song? That song
perpetu ates his name in the

(loa, p.2)

The Purpose
As a national cducation organization,.
S.-\GE provides an exciting spectrum of
techniques to alter attitudes and inspire
older people to fall' U\ l: "th life again.
As S.-\GE enters it sL"th year.. , cputu-
tion as an innovative program to re-
awaken vttall tv and heal th-enhancing
ucttvitv among the elderly has grown
worldwide . Muny SAGE graduates have
even found later-life careers as lecturers,
writers, group leaders and teachers of the
S.-\GE process to peers, younger people
and to residents of nursing homes and
other institutions.
The Program
Through the usc of many experiential
processes, including physical and psycho-
logical exercises, participants find S"\G E
an important resource to expand their
awareness and appreciation of them-
selves and their sense of cornmunirv and
to avail themselves of ongoing health-
supporting uctivitics.
The SAGE program is designed to provide
training both for people O\Tr 60 and for
professionals who serve the elderly.
Socially enjoyable techniques such as
rcluxutton training, group and incl ividuul
experiences in urt und music. gentle
brcathing and movement exercises, jour-
nal wriunuo and lifc review arc umonu 0 the
many actlvittcs learned and shared by
SAGE teachers and participants.
The SAGE process consists of core
groups-12 to 15 people who meet weekly
for the dcvcloprncn t and practice of the
slcills and exercises that make up the
S.-\GE experience. The carefully struc-
tured groups meet for thrce months
under the direction of two trained group
leaders. L'pon "graduation," participunts
find themselves armed with the skills and
the motivation to take responsibility for
their own well-being and continued per-
sonal growth.
001, pp.1-4)
Program Format
The SAGE process is offered in a vartcry
of formats. They arc designed to provide
cxpcricntlal training both for people oyer
50 and for professionals serving the
elderly. The uvutlubtliry of these SAGE
programs nationally "ill grow drumati-
callv
- in the cominsr~-vcar.
Iutrodllctol~' I:Jrcscutatious
Special presentations. cxclusivclv for
people oyer 50 who urc prospective
participants, will introduce the process
in a non-threatening. gentle way.
This is not a training program but will
help guide interested people into a
core group.
Scw Corc GrOIlI)S
Spcciully designed programs for people
oyer 50 arc avuilublc, onec sufficient
numbers of people arc interested in
beginning their own core group. SAGE
staff members arc available to provide
the leadership in both technique and
organizational skills.
Satioual Olltrcach
'Vorl~sbo})s
S.\GE is no", oflering three- to five-day
workshops designed to giye the profes-
sional service provider new pcrspcc-
tlvcs on the mcaning of aging and
on the needs and potentials of thctr
clients. These workshops arc designed
to meet the needs of the sponsor-
ing group or agency and its client
population.
GrOIlI) Leadcr Iutcrnshil)
Traiuiu·· ~
The grcatest in-depth training of the
S"\GE process is through the one- and
two-semester nucrnship programs
which involve the student in vlrt.uully
every phase of the S.\GE organization
and process. Graduates will not only
be able to teach SAGE techniques but
will also gain the experience to serve
as group leaders in S.-\GE-authorizcd
progrums 'c lscwhcrc.
Traiuiug Iutcl1sh'cs
The main focus of the one- and t,YO-
week intcnstvc programs will be train-
ing in SAGE techniques and philosophy.
This program is ideal f()!' those who
have practiced or taught S,\GE mct horl-,
previously and wish to update their
skills, or for professionals who seck
short-term, in-depth training.
SAGE Cousultiug Scr"iccs
Xationul staff members arc uvatlublc
for consulting services, adYising on any
phase of S"\GE programming. This cus-
tomized service has been helpful in
assisting conununiry programs and
nursing homes to organize new pro-
grams and troubleshoot existing OIlCS.
Demonstrations of SAGE techniqucs
arc often inclucled in these services.
001, p.2)

Most of these formats arc availublc
nutionallv and are open to people of any
age. A specific request for services will
be answered with details of the program.
scheduling and fcc structure.
An additional way to learn about S.-\GE,
with or wtthou t staff personnel in atten-
dance, is to rent one of the S.\GE video-
tapes showing the S.\GE process in
action. A S.-\GE speakers bureau is also
available to provide presentations at
meetings or conferences.
Sage's History \'
In Jarman' 1974 a group of twelve ad-
venturesome older people (aged 63 to 77)
met with four younger people to explore
the mvths and realities of the aging
process. The group culled itsclf Sa Gli,
WI acronvm for Senior Actualization
and Gro~,"th Explorations. The first ex-
pcrimcntal program continued for over
two Years, Since then, by word of mouth,
scores of people have en:rolled in subse-
quent core groups to become rccxcitcd
about life and to alter their attitudes
about aging.
Their experience with S.\GE reawakened
their 0\\"11 sense of aliveness, as well as
unforeseen possibilities for commnnity
participation and new styles of Jiving. The
discoveries made in SAGE were 50 inno-
vativc that similar programs Legan
across the country and in other parts of
the world.
001, p.3)
Sage's future
In addition to expanding its current pro-
gram to meet national interest. S.\.GE
is developing preretirement training and
intergenerational groups to be offered
in the new' IU nUT.
S,\.CiE is a tax-exempt educational and
research organization which is supported
by Individuul donations, Iounduuon and
corporate grants, and income derived
from services. S,\.GE·s federal tux idcriti-
ficatlon number is 23-7382450.
SAGE national office is: SAGE
P.O. Box 4244
San Francisco, CA 94101
(415) 841-9858
Photos 'R Karen Preuss, from Life Time,
A Xc,,' Image of Aging, published by
L'nity Press, Santa Cruz, California, 1978.
(101, p.4)
 •
'HOLY NAMES COLLEGE
Education Department

June 8, 1978

Dr. Agnes N. O'Connell

50 Inglewood lane
Matawan, New .Jersey 07747

Dear Dr. O'Connell:

When I saw your announcement about the special issue of biographies of notable
women psychoiogists i immediateiy tnought of {vIary Cover Jones. [here are three
elements of her life that would make a biographical sketch of interest to your
readers: her extensive professional contribution, her experience as the wife of
another important psychologist, and her special personal qualities.

Although she is 81 years old, she is still professionally active. This year, in fact,
she will take part in two major anniversary celebrations. One is the commemora-
tion of John B. Watson's 100th birthday scheduled for APA in August. She has
been invited by Division 26 (History) to speak on that occasion because of her work
with Watson very early in her career. The second celebration is for the 50th anni-
versary of the major longitudinal studies at Berkeley in developmental psychology.
Both Margaret Mead and Robert Butler will be speaking in honor of these immensely
valuable studies that Mary has been affj Iiated with since 1929.
1]
Her life as the wife of the late Harold E. Jones was no doubt rewarding, but also
must have been trying. Having a husband in the same field allowed for many success-
ful, and no doubt mostly pleasant, collaborations. And yet as his wife, she was not
allowed to tea'ch at UC Berkeley for many years because of his affiliation with the
university. She began working at Berkeley in 1921 at age 33 as a research associate,
but despite her own achievements was not granted a regular appointment until 1952,
and did not become a full professor unti I 1959, when she was 63 years old. She
reflects on these times not with apparent bitterness but with some understanding of the
historical context of their occurrence. Yet one gets the distinct feeling that she is
quite pleased that women are fighting such constraints today.

Finally, there are the rare personal qualities. Although she and I have had only the
briefest of relationships, she has become a meaningful part of my professional develop-
ment. From our first meeting, when I was a brand-new Ph.D., she was both supportive
and collegial. There was never distance because of her age or her status. She always
made me feel very important to be considered her peer. Once when I thanked her
for being so thoughtful she sold, "Oh, my deer I but you are one of us. And we are
very happy to have you join us." -

(103, pp.1-3)

3500 Mountain Boulevard. Oakland. California 94619 (415) 436-01ll/I022

 2

You can fell, I hope, how special I think she is. An article on Mary Cover Jones
would give readers a chance to look in on (1) two historically important movements
in psychology, (2) the problems faced by many academic women in the post because
of nepotism rules, and (3) the ultimate in role models, an 81 year old who is cctlve,
warm, witty and thoughtful as we II as renowned. Please consider her as the sub ject
of one of your biographies.

Sincerely yours,

Deana Dorman Logan, Ph.D.

Assistant Professor

cc: Dr. Nancy Felipe Russo

(103, p.2)
 9
peting against insurmountable odds and that
*seek national visibility for ERA issues through they are competing alone. Through pUblishing
writing to the national.press, television and radio. biographies of a selection of notable women
psychologists in a special issue of the
*write to your representatives in Congress and ask PSYCHOLOGY OF WOKEN QUARTERLY, we hope to
them to support the ERA deadline extension. pOartJ.aIly mee C ~ds lIeed rSF role models and
also to begin to recognize the significant
*donate money ~o ratification efforts through a contri- impact of women on psychology. Of course,
bution to ERAerica, 1725 M Street, NW, Washington, the need for role models can best be met by
DC 20036 the substantial addition of women to the
*have any organization you belong to endorse the ERA faculties of all colleges and universities.
and work towards its ratification. Send the resolu- These biographies are meant to enhance rather
tion to the legislators of the unratified states at than replace these women.
the beginning of each legislative session. Be sure
to send a letter to the majority and minority leaders It is our intention that the women portrayed
of the legislative houses of those states. in the proposed issue represent various
specialties in psy~hology and various lIfe
*develop fact-oriented brochures and identify profes- styles. The biographies are to focus on the
sionals who are highly visible and credible community full person and should be written in both a
leaders who will speak on behalf of ERA. professional and personal vein whether or not
the person is living or dead. If the person
*contribute money to ERA, as individuals, and urge is living, it would be preferable that she be
':he orgnnizRtions you belong to to also contributp.. in retirelllent.
The tone of the biographies should be inspira-
tional and scholarly. The biographies should
State Capitol addresses in unratified states are: describe both professional and personal
obstacles overcome and the coping strategies
-AI. State Capitol, Montgomery, 36104 used. The woman and her work should be placed
AZ State Capitol, Phoenix, 85007 in historical perspective and her connection
AR State Capitol, Little Rock, 72201 to mainstream psychology clearly defined.
Fl State Capitol, Tallahassee, 32304 Her contributions and innovations should be
GA State Capitol, Atlanta, 30334 compared with others in the field. In addi-
11 State House, Springfield, 62706 tion, the relationship between her choice of
La State Capitol, Baton Rouge, 70804 life style and her professional contributions
MS New Capitol, Jackson, 39205 should be delineated.
MO State Capitol, Jefferson City, 65101
NV State Capitol, Carson City,89701 Selection criteria are being developed for
tiC State Capitol, Raleigh, 27602 choosing the women to be included in this
OK State Capitol, Oklahoma City 73105 issue. Visibility is not essential for
SC State Capitol, Columbia 29211
Salt Lake City, 84114
inclusion. It is hoped that the issue would
Ut State Capitol, include biographies of women who are signifi-
VA State Capitol, Richmond, 23219
cant and highly visible contributors as well
as contributors who ·are lesser known but none-
MARCH FOR EQUAL RIGHTS! theless important (e.g., women who have devel-
oped a new clinical technique or set up a
We in Florida are outraged at the delay in passing laboratory). Significant contributions could
the Equal Rights Amendment, outraged at the corrosion be measured in terms of publications, the
of our reproductive freedom, outraged at the contin- citation index, membership in the National
ued oppression of minorities and women. Join us to ~cademy of Science, and leadership positions
demonstrate this outrage by your physical presence J.n the APA structure (e.g., women presidents
and fir..~·:.r:"i;\l s1"!pp,,rt c-f the !'!0THE?. 's DAY !'!AP.C!! :OP.. -:f }.J'J..;, e t c , -r''i: solicit j~ur suc;gt::S"t.iOlj,S
EQUAL RIGHTS, May 12-15, from Key West to Tallahassee; for innovative ways to define "significant
,. rallies in Miami and Orlando, Friday, May 12; Rally
in Gainesville, May 13, Motorcade to Tallahassee,
Sunday, May 14, March on the Florida legislature, May
contribution."
We would like to have your suggestions and
15. This is a nationally supported demonstration. comments on this special issue in general and
For more information and contributions, contact on women who might be included. We are also
Judith Levy, 805 South West Fourth Avenue, Gaines- SOlici~ing reviewers for the biographies. A
Ville, FL 32601. (904) 377-5551 or 378-7058. call for biographies and reviewers will appear
A A A A A/lJ)A 'l!~'3 0'.
in the next NEWSLETTER. Suggestions and
comments should be sent tOI
1~
SELECTION CRITERIA FOR THE BIOGRAP~S OF Dr. Agnes N. O'Connell
50 Inglewood Lane
!»t!ALE ROLE MODELS Matawan, New Jersey 07747
Agnes N. O'Connell and Nancy Felipe Russo with a copy tOI
Women who have contributed to psychology have Dr. Nancy Felipe Russo
for too long been unrecognized and unheralded. APA
There is a need to pUblicize these women so 1200 17th st., N.W.
that they may serve as role models. Often. Washington, D. C. 200)6.
women in the field feel that they are com-

(103, p.3)
'UBLISHED BY THE CALIFORNIA ALUMNI ASSOCIATION
he year was 1927, and Lawrence
T" Frank was wandering around
Cal trying rather unsuccessfully
to give awa)' a few hundred thou-
sand dollars, As executive secretary of
the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Fund,
Frank was on campus to see if the Uni-
versity was interested in starting a pro-
gram .[01' child "research, Rockefeller
money had already established .child
siudv cemers ar Yale, Colunibia, Iowa.
Minnesota, and Toronto, but for some
reason his attempt to stan a West"Coast
program was fizzling (ast, Frank finally
shrugged and muttered, "Well. maybe
Stanford would be interested." ----:'--1
Cal took the money. Quickly.
One year later, in 1928. the brand new
Institute of Child Welfare began de-
tailed research on more than 300 infants
and toddlers in the Berkeley area. In
1932, studies on an additional 200 ado-
lescents were begun. After 30 years of
weighing. measuring. testing, and pon-
dering over the same group of ,kids-
turned-adults. they changed the name,
appropriately. to the Institute of Human
Development,
By RODI SHEMETA LUDLUM
research projects each year. it .is best
This year the Institute celebrates its kn~wn for its longitudinal studies _
50th anniversary and marks a mile-
stone: nowhere else have so many peo-
ple been so systematically studied for
such a long time. Remarkably. about
two-thirds of those original 500 children
which could go on forever, as the chil-
~en and possibly grandchildren of orig-
mal study members are interviewed and
tested.
Many of the studies have looked into
are still being studied. Though the Insti- the ,problems of marriage and child-
tute now trains students in the social re~ng; . o~ers have examined persDn-
sciences and conducts dozens of other ality trans In early years that seem tD
be eonnecied 10 certain adult problems.
. For example. one study showed that "
girls who were self-indulgent and liberal
"as teenagers were more likely to be di-
vorced adults than girls who were de-
scribed as submissive and conservative.
The same study showed tha: aloof, with-
" drawn, and skeptical boys were most
likely to remain bachelors, Other studies
.have shown correlations between cer-
, lain junior high personality traits and'
problem drinking in adult years.
Studies of the aging process. whicn
s are increasing now as study members
:§
~ reach the retirement years, indicate that
~ after you pass 30, you tend to live and
~, behave in similar ways, even as YDU
- reach 70. Researchers found that Did
os
:i people do not necessarily "deteriorate,"
L-..:..........::....~~.L.:;.:.;..;,_;.........."O';;'..;..,J- but that advancing age tends' to bring
with it a more complex and distinctive
personality.
(104,pp.1-3)

The first research. started small.
Cal~ed the Berkeley Growth Study, its
subjects were four-day-old babies .....ho
~ere white, full-term. healthy, and hos-
pital-born. To get a more representative
sample of. the Berkeley population. a
second pruJe.:l, the Guidance Study, was"
be~un. This. group selected every third
child born. 1D Berkeley during an 18-
month period and began scrutinizinz
the 248 chosen ones when they were 2
months old.
As the babies turned four and five'
years old, researchers grew impatient to
study ~e phenomenal physical and psy-
chological growth of adolescents, and so
the Oakland Group Study began with
212 ten-year-olds. When in vestigators
came to the Oakland schools to recruit
volunteers, practically every hand went
up.
~e~ters went home to parents, ex-
plaining what the University wanted to
do. "We got quite a response from the
parents," recalls one of the observers in
Ihis study, Mary Jones, widow of Harold
E. Jones. a founding director of the In-
stitute. "Some feared their children had
been singled out because they had a
problem; others thought they'd been see
leered because they were gifted. Some
worried we'd talk to them about sex,
and others asked if we please would!"
One concerned mother even Named to
know if the Institute would straighten
her daughter's teeth.
'- -Finally 'the study ~ot underway ~d
the first thing researchers did was rent
a house across the street from the junior
high for the kids to use as a clubhouse.
"We thought it was nice and fun to have
a clubhouse there," recalls Barbara De-
Liban, who was in the study group. "J
guess we weren't smart enough to.know
that they put it there 50 they could ob-
serve us."
Not everyone was fooled, however.
Richard Lohsen, another study
member. says he and a friend used to
wander over to the clubhouse to stare
at the observers. "We'd watch them tak-
ing notes, and they didn't appreciate it
too much, I guess." he grins.
Every six months, the children were
taken two at a time to the University
for a two-day battery of tests they both
loved and hated. There were stacks of
written tests to fill out. boxes to sort, all
sons of blocks to stick in all sorts of
holes. ink blots to stare at, word aarnes
to play, and yes, even a rat maze io run
through.
(Continued on page 11)
i scrounged up scholarships.
Outofthe cradle
(Continued/rum pUKe J)
Before one: test, they weren't allowed
to eat or drink anything past midnight
("I gOI.lhi~slier than.1 ever had in my
whole life, says DeLl ban); but later, to
their great joy, they were taken out to
breukfus] - on the University, In an-
other test. recalls DeLiban, the children
wore oxygen tanh on their .backs and
masks o.n their face~ and had 10 run up
three flights of stairs as fast as they
could. "1 just hated that one," Del.iban
says. . the program in high school. We didn't
. And after 0111 thaI. they were inter-
viewed at great length - "10 see how.
well we were adjusted, I guess," says
Lohsen,
Curiously. after all the close scrutiny.
no one ever found out exactly how he
or she was doing, IQ scores, for ex-
ample, were never revealed 10 children
or parents. although the subjects were
told in vague terms where they stood.
Rumor has it that there were dark plots
among the kids 10 break in and rifle
through the files for their scores and
perhaps; while they were at it, gel a peek
at the phOIOS of scantily-clad girls and
nude boys. Whether or not tbat plot was
hatched remains one of the secretsof
the ages. . . Now in their late 50s and early 60s.
. The subjects weren't kept completely
an the dark, however. Lohsen still has
.a copy of his high school "Vocational
Interest Test For Men," y,'hich positive-
ly 'had him picked to be a CPA. And.
he did indeed become a CPA after grad-
uating from Cal's College of Commerce
in 1942 with a major in accounting. He
abo rated high in law. which did not
interest him at the time; but recently -
40 years after 1he test - he has been .
.....orking quite contentedly as an appcl-
lare conferee for the IRS and spending
most of his time in courtrooms.
. 'Ai-.the-years- went' by.-staff and:study-J
members became almost like family. In "
all three growth studies, researchers or-
ganized picnics and reunions. sent
Christmas cards. and went 10 christen-
ings and funerals. all to keep their sub-
jects interested and willinz. The Oak-
I~nd Gr~wth Stu~y was a~ particularly.
tight-knit group Since its members were
all in the same classes.
The Oakland children also had Judith
Chaffey. a full-time counselor who was
there anv lime thev needed her She
talked about their problems and s~hool
work and even tauaht some how to·
drive. In the Depression years. when
most couldn't afford to go to college. she
. ,
"She was a wonderful. wonderful per- .
son to talk to." says DeLiban. who was
quite shy and had more than her share
of troubles when both her father and
. sister died during her last years of high
, school. "I have very fond memories of
Miss Chaffey '-:- she had no chidren of
her own. so we were her children."
last June, at the Institute's big anni-
versary celebration, Cbaffey refused.to..
sit on the platform with guest speaker
Margaret Mead and all of the other staff
members from the study. "I want to sit
with my people," she said.
By high school. some of the students
were beginning to tire of beina tested
, and scrutinized.."By now we ;ealized .
they were watching our everv move. and
it got 10 be annoying," says De l.iban,
"A 101 of kids wanted to drop out of
want 10 be different."
Nevertheless, the researchers per-
sisted and won out in the long run. After
; the kids had left high school and gone
it to work or colleae. thev'd still zet-a call
. or '7uer or visitevery'few yea-rs as the
, Institute probed the issues of adulthood
- smoking. drinking. and child-rearing.
to name a few. '.
One .30-year-old study member fi-
~ally said 10 a researcher, "Do you real-
.ize I've known you longer than anyone
in my life excepl my parents and that
you probably know me better than any-
one and yet you slill look pleased to see
me when I came in'!"
most of the children of the Oakland
Growth Study are leading quiet lives in
the Bay Area. Many arc retired or think-
ing about it, and their own children are
grown. They still call up old friends at
the Institute. and every fe..... years Mary
Jones pUIS out a newsletter that reads
just like class notes.
'" was used to this research being
called the 'adolescent study',' says Loh-
sen, "and when they called me a few
years ago with some questions, I asked
wl~at. this new stU~y was called, They
':ld II was the 'aging study.' and, well,
•_ _"Ii'lii'~sort of a crushing blow!"
004, p.2)
 -- -----. -
. Even lIft~ allthcsehyeais.-'sludY
members are slill curious about .whal
the research is saying about them. Both
Lohscn and DeLiban have a copy of
Chi/iJren of the Great Depression. one of
'the many books published based on In-
suture research. Both waded through the
graphs and charts and technical lan-
guage and gave up. Luhsen managed 10·
lind himself mentioned in a study culled
Growth and Behavior in Adolescence.
"They rncruioned a boy who race" pi-.
~eons. and I knew Ihat was me," .
"I'd be really interested 10 know how
people are doing today compared to·
high school," says DeLiban. "They said
we had nOI changed. but I can't believe
it. In those days I was so shy and intro-
verted. and now I'm much more outgo-
ing than I used to be. I feel like a com-
plerely different person,", ..
Researchers continue to ponder the
mysteries of human growth lln.~. pers90'
..- ........- I ..
ality, put despite the trends of behavior
traced in their studies.uhey continue 10
marvcl at. the unpredictabilityt and
strength of the in"jvidual:'; , .:
"There was it great deal of belief from
. Freudian theory Ihat you ar~ formed by
the lime you arc three or a'l least six."
says Dorothy Eichorn. associate director
of the lnstitute. "But our studies have
shown Ihal you can recover from u bad
borneenvironment." .:.:' ..
In one case study of a rather unfortu-
nate boy "with an extraordinary accu-
mulation of personal handicaps," they
found, much to everyone's surprise. that
.he did quite nicely for himself as the
years went by., Thai study concluded:'
"So marked an upturn in his personal
fortunes' is evidence nOI only of the
toughness of the' human organism bUI
also of the slow. complex wa)'~ in which
nature and cuhure may CO(1l~ Into adap.'
Ji,l?n." 0 : .:: .' '. <., , ...... r.~~.;. "; r •

California Monthly, December 1978, p.11.

Reprinted with permission of California Monthly, (Z/18/87)

004, p.3)
 ..... ' _- ..:).:
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;,

UALUMNI NEWS It ,
,May·30,·. 1944

Dear

This ,is the third liAlumni II News Bulletin ·for members of the
University Study. It is more than llf'ive ycarsafter. 1I '1'0
reach you, these letters will travel to the four corners of
the ear~h. We know that news is, welcome so here is the'
latest abou t s ome of'your former classmates. If any of you,
eve~ have the impulseto~rite or visit, you will still find
~r. and Mrs. Jones, at,~he old stand on the DC Campus, (horne
"a dd r-e s s , 2683 Shasta Rd . , Berkeley j 8). Mi s s Chaffe y ~is wi th
the. Guidance Department of the Oakland Schools and works .
Saturdays and summers in the Metal-smith shop of the Naval /
. "
Air Base, (home address 6100 Snake Rd., Oak Land ) ,

Our best wishes to you all,

Adams, Jane is Mrs. J. H. ~cDonald and she has a son, Baron

Alexander, aged 3 years. Her husband expects to be in~
ducted in the near futur~. They are living with her
mother. . .:", . . ' . '. . .... ,
~ddress: cia Mrs •• W. ~. Adams, '5836 Broadway, Oakland
, .' 1 ...... ..~ ~

Algie, Winona is Mrs. Roland S. Birdston. Her husband is a-

lieutenant in the Navy Air Corps. Winona is now with
him at Gustine, 'California ..
Address: c/o Mrs. Edna Cardwell, 33562nq.- St.,; Oakland
: . ,
Anderson, Lorelei is 'M~~. William Lucas~ the mother of a
girl; Joan Louise and a boy, Robert Norton. She 'expects
another member of the family in July. Loreleiis husband
is employed by Standard Oil, as awhGrfman, but ~e may
be inducted in the near future. .."
Address: 5528 Solano Ave., .Richmond, or
c/orors. Eva Lucas,l024 59th St.~ Oakland·

Bacigalupi, Clifford is now a . second lieutenant.. ·,: He was re- '.

.cently gradua ted from the Army.Engineer Officers' 'I'rain-
ing School at For-t Be 1 voir, Vi r g i n i a . · .'
;~ .
Address: c/o Mr. J.Jlt1.Bacigalupi . . 732 Calmar Ave ..... Oakland

.... r. ....
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~

Copy given by Dr. Mary Cover Jon:e's forincllisi.on:)ier~.inI.

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: (105,
. . PP' 1~6}
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GREETINGS} once again~

- He have reached another milestone: the Silver Anriiversary

of your final high school days. He are greatly pleased to have
kept in ~buch with such a large majority of YOUj the group is
almost exactly the size it was seven y~ars ago} the time of our
.-' last reunion and newsletter. Four more of you have married} and
,your families have kept on growing} l.ith nearly 40 new babies
(several not yet a year old) including the second set of twins
in a nine-child family!) You now average about 2-2/3 children
a piece. And the grandchild population explosion has just begun--
23 at last count} which may already be out-of-date!

You have' continued to cover the globe in your jobs} your

homes} and your activities} but most of you have gravitated back
toward the West Coast. More than eight out of ten still live in
Californiaj t'tlO out of three are still around the Bay.

1957} the year of our last reunion} soon after became the
Year of Sputnik} 'Which in countless ways has shaped our lives
ever since. l~y of you express concern for your children's
education (from the early grades on up)) and the hope fora
peaceful world and family security is much upon your minds. " Few
of you moan about your current crop of teenagers) especially among
those 'Who have lived through this awesome age before. You speak
more of your youngsters' future happiness as they advance beyond
the age of "little problems ll and start to look seriously on their
own lives ahead.

Hith your children's advancing years a good many of you

mothers have enthusiastically started (or returned) to work; others
have found time for hobbies long postponed.

There I S a lot of 'Handerlust among you) too) l,aiting for

The Day. Bon voyage) and the best of luck until we meet again!

" I

(l05, p.2)
 2
~funy of you have talked with ~. Mary Jones during the past
year) and learned somethf.ng about the Institute staff members.
You may be interested to know about sane vho were around during
your high school years.

Nancy Bayley (who did the X-rays of your l~ists) is back at the
Institute at Cal after ten years in Bethesda) Md.) as .Director
of the Division of Child Development for the National Institute
of Hental Health.

Frances Burks (Mrs. Frank Newman) and her husband live in Orinda
with their two younger children) Ralph) 12) and Carol) 6.
Bob) 22) is about to enter the Army) and Julie) 19) isa
sophomore at Scripps College. Besides the usual school
mother's activities, she sings in the Oakland Symphony Chorus
and has revived some of her former ties with Cal (SUCh as
editing thisNewsletter-~cornplaintsin person only) at the
reunion) •

Judith Ghaffey) whom some of you see from time to time) still
, lives in Oakl.and , and sine e her retirement fron the Oakland
Schools finds time to play golf and hike 'Hith the Sierra Club.

Ha.ry C. Jones hopes to see you at the reunion. Besides her 110rk
at the Institute) she is a research associate at Stanford.

DT. Herbert Stolz and his wife Lois live in Portola Valley, where
they moved ai'ter his retirement. They plan to cone to Ber ke.l.ey
for the reunion.

This year I s reunion 'Hill be the first 1lithout the genial

l'lelcome of Harold E. Jones. He 11111 m\t in the attractive nell
Child Study Center named in his honor. Dr. John Clausen, the
Institute 's new director) looks fOr1mrd to greeting you all.

(l05, p.3)
 .. . ...
~';.'-

,~
',.
, .JUNE
-.=.-•...
197 8
Reu nio ns tur n our tho ugh ts
Th is 197 8 Ne ws let ter is the tow ard gro ove s tha t lea d bac
7th wh ich has por tra yed you k in tim e.
sin ce hig h sch ool day s. The r pro gre ss'
fir st, in 194 0, rep ort ed man
in the ha lls of lea rni ng . y of you sti ll
Ab out one -ha lf of the women
the men wer e the re t'o acq uir and two thi rds of
e new sk ill s or pre par e for
The oth er ha lf oj the women 'a
we re equ all y div ide d bet we en pro fes sio n.
ma rrie d (a few of whom had tho se who had
chi ldr en) or had job s. The
the men wer e gai nfu lly em plo oth er thi rd of
yed ; a few had ma rrie d.
The sec ond Ne ws lett er, carne
men who we re sti ll in col leg dur ing Wo~ld War II, in 194
e we re usu all y als o in ROTC 2. Tho se
ing pro gra m or en lis ted but in a Navy tra in-
def err ed. The ser vic es or
ind ust rie s, suc h as the shi ser vic e con nec ted
pya rds , cla ime d mo st of the
All bra nch es of the ser vic e res t of the men~
we re rep res ent ed: Co ast Gu
'Fo rce , Ma rin es, Me rch ant Ma ard , Army, Air
rin e, Sea bee s, Sig nal Co rps
Hany women we re eit he r in a
ser vic e con nec ted job , kep
, usa en ter tai ne rs.
bur nin g for hus ban ds away in t the hom efi res
the ser vic e or fol low ed the
ass ign me nts . As one mo the m on the ir war
r of a stu dy member sai d of
~'She tak es a bab y und her dau ght er:
er eac h arm and fol low s him
to his s ta t Lon ;"
At the tim e of the thi rd let
the War. The let ter beg an: ter , 194 4, you wer e rea lly
"To fig hti ng
the fou r cor ner s of the ,ea r:ea ch you the se let ter s wi ll tra
rth ." Tit les we re num ero us , vel to, .
Commander, Rad io Gu nne r; Arm ast oun din g: ..,'
"In str uc tor , Lie ute nan t, En y Air Me cha nic , En gin eer ing Car nou flag er, Dr ill
sig n ..• • and one WAC!
The fou rth reu nio n and Ne ws
the men we re bac k fro m the let ter in 194 6 rep ort ed tha
ser vic e; "re fre she r" cou rse t abo~t hal f of
homes we re bei ng bu ilt , new s we re pop ula r, new
bab
J;he ref rai n wa s, "N oth ing exc ies we re arr ivi ng . For many of the women,
" . the chi ldr en do. " itin g is hap pen ing , exc ept
the cut e thi ngs

In ano the r thr ee yea rs we wer

(19 49) . To con den se the con e rea dy for ano the r reu nio n
ten t of tha t new sle tte r: "O and let ter
are sti ll in the Bay Are a, ver 80% of you
nin e are in sch ool ful l tim
the Armed Ser vic es. Th ere e,
are 151 chi ldr en rep res ent ing six are sti ll in
The se are the yea rs when mo 101 ma rria ges .
st of you are set tlin g down
the War. It is by no means to fam ily lif e aft er
a car efr ee exi ste nce ! New
new homes and the "hi gh cos job s, new bab ies ,
t of liv ing " are fre que ntl y
me ntio ned .
By 197 0 the Ne ws let ter was
gro up are sti ll wit h us. " rep ort ing tha t "ab out 70% of
And to :'Quote one mem ber , in the ori gin al
po rt fro m our fin din gs: "I'm res pon se to a re-
ela ted to hea r tha t our per
are sti ll inc rea sin g wit h ma for ma nce lev els
,pl ete ly clo sed our min ds. tur ity . Th is mu st ind ica te we
If we can 't bri dge the gen hav en' t com-
'Fe can at lea st ye ll acr oss era tio n gap , maybe
it. "

-,>

(10 5,. p. 4)
 ~;
ii ~--
•
.••l •

'Fo r a ref lec tio n on the

ch ara cte ris tic s are im pre ssi Ne ws let ter now in you r han ds, the se , . i. : '
ve: You are ma tur ing tho ugh
num ber of you hav e "moved ove tfu lly . A ~" , .', .
r" gra cef ull y (re tire d) to
you nge r gen era tio n.' 'As alw make ,room'~,for"e,
ays you are enj oyi ng you r own
ado rin g you r gra ndc hf.L dre n, chi ld! en, -', '" '
and at lea s t one -of you is
a gre at- gra nch ild ! en tra nce d wit h'
'
"I
Per hap s mo st che eri ng, esp
'(
you r app rec iat ion of and ten eci all y to the eld ers in our
der nes s for you r sur v1v xrr g soc iet y is
sub jec t, the nex t lec tur e to par ent s. On thi s
wh ich you wi ll be inv ite d is
of the Na tio nal Ins tit ute on the the Di rec tor
Pri ze wiI?-nlng hoo k on agi ng' Ag ing , Dr. Ro ber t Bu tle r, who
pos es the 'quee t.Lon," "Why Sur se Pu litz er
viv e?" , '
You, car ing chi ldr en, may hav
"
e some ans we rs.

'~

. ,

1 '

, ,-

(lO S,· p.S )

 -'..

OAKL ANOG ROWT HSTU OY

·REUNION NEWSLETTER
Octob er 1985

PREF ACE·

Can it be more than 50 years since you starte d that round of

physic al exams ,
questi onnai re invent ories, clubho use activi ties; and all the
rest of the resear ch
progra m that began as the Adole scent Growt h Study, planne
d and direct ed by
Herbe rt Stolz and Harold Jones?

I Indeed , yes. Here you are, numbe red among the "young old,"
and here are
. ('.~. still a few stalwa rts from the early staff, now qualif ying for
the rubric "old old."
But 'at reunio ns we are all- young in spirit, and we hope that
this oppor tunity to
cat~~ .uP on lives in progre ss will sustai n that
spirit of youth.
'f\ major ity lof study memb ers have now retire d, a much higher propo rtion
than .would have been expec ted at your age (or feasib le)
a genera tion ago. A
numb er are semi- retired , either workin g ona flexib le, part-t
ime schedu le or doing
things that allow you a good deal of leewa y while yet giving a
sense of satisfa ction.
Those who are still on the job are either gettin g a lot of satisfa
ction from what you
. do (like Some of us at IHO) or haven 't quite reache d the point
where retire ment is
.feasi ble, A few retired but found that was not their cup of
tea.
Childr en and grand childr en are clearl y major intere sts for most
do not have Tcornplete counts , but it appea rs that 17 grandc of you. We
hildre n and 3 great
grand childr en are tops to date. It is obviou s that the young ones
will be among the
bright est and the best in decad es to come.

Golfin g seems to be the most menti oned outdo or activi

ty (procl ivity,
obsess ion?) but many memb ers are tourin g Amer ica and indeed
the world these
..'days . Some of you are painti ng, sculpt ing, writin g, makin
g music or expres sing
your .artist ic bent in other ways. Many are active in comm unity affair s,
volun teerin g for servic es to those less fortun ate. 'We of the staff
salute you all!
You are, as a group, both gifted and fortun ate. You came to
adulth ood in the
years of great oppor tunity after having gone throug h the worst
depres sion in United
States histor y and the most devas tating war that the world
has seen. Yet only a
minor ity were seriou sly affect ed by the depres sion and few
experi enced the war's
devas tation . Most partic ipated in the econo mic well-b eing that
follow ed the war.
As you know if you had a chanc e to read Prese nt and Past
in Middle Life, study
memb ers as a group have been remar kably succes sful. Not all,
of course , have been
equall y fortun ate; even hard work and carefu l planni ng can't
insure health ; wealth
or happin ess. Yet as we talked with you three years ago - and
some just last year -
we learne d that most of you look back on your lives with pleasu
re or at least with
philos ophica l accep tance. You know who you are and what
you like, and you face
the future with a good deal of optim ism and even zest. You
will find that zest
expre ssed in many of the messa ges appea ring in this News letter.

1 (l05, p.6)
Yale University Neto Haoen.Connecticat cas to
CHILD STUDY CENTER

MAILING ADDRESS: 333 Cedar Street

(230S. Frontage Rd.)

March 13, 1968

Dr. Mary Cover Jones

2683 Shasta Road
Berkeley 8, California
Dear Dr. Jones:
I am collecting information about the early history of the
child development movement in America. This entails getting
tape recordings of some of the pioneers in the field. Since
you are such an important person, it is boped that you would
permit me to interview you, and make such a recording of your
early experiences, and your memories of when you and your hus-
band began to work in the child development field. I will be
in Pasadena on April 3, 1968, and then could come to you on
April 4 or 5, probably the latter. Is it at all convenient
for you to see me then? Since I do not know your current ad-
dress but presume that you are still in the San Francisco area,
I believe that April 5 or 6 might be more realistic than April 4.
I need not tell you that I hope I will be able to see you soon
for the purpose expressed.
Sincerely,
\ A~ ".L..... '"..1'(~ J .".,...
r ~..._

Milton J. E. Senn, M.D.

MJES: jp

(106 )
 HARlAN STDDENSKI
1570 Ridge Road
Sonoma, California 95476
707/938-2852

March 18, 1983

Mary Cover Jones, PhD

1203 Tolman Hall
DC Berkeley

Dear Dr. Jones:

Thank you for accepting my recent phone call and for agreeing
to an interview which I may use as an addendum to my dissertation.

The proposed title for my dissertation is Fifty years of advise

to parents of infants and preschoolers: The impact of sociohistori-
cal change and psychological theory on popular literature for parents •
.It is, in fact, an extension of Celia Stendler's Sixty years of child
training practices which covered the period 1890 to 1950. My own
study will examine magazine advise to parents between 1930 and 1980.
An essential part of the dissertation is how changes in such advise
reflects changes in developmental theory.

Lucy Rau Feryuson, a member of my dissertation committee and

a developmental psychologist herself, has suggested that a valuable
addendum to my dissertation would be a few interviews with those
whose professional lives have spanned a significant part of this
time period. It is with that goal in mind that I have contacted
you.

I have in mind a one to two hour taped interview that would

in essence be an oral history. I am interested in the changes you
saw taking place in the field durin~ your career, how you may have
changed your own professinnal stance over ~jroe.and what effect you
feel" "SUC11 cnanges .may· have had on c'hj~d rearing oractices. Mv
interview will not be structured and I hope: we wlllre free to
digress and follow-up interesting lines of thought.

I look forward to meeting you and appreciate your generosity

with your time.

Yours truly,

/J7lhltvr.-.%d~"
Marian Studenski

(107, pp.1-3)
 222

CHAPTER V

THREE ORAL HISTORIES: AN ADDENDUM

Interviews were conducted with three de velopmental psychologists.

Each has special knowledge of the history of developmentaIism during one of

the three paradigmatic periods outlined in this study.

"" Mary Cover Jones began her career in developmental psychology during

the twen ties, the period of the Training Paradigm, and came to the research

station established by the Rockefeller Fund at the Uni versity of California at

Berkeley during its first year of operation.

She joined the field of empirical research in child development during

the period when interest in behaviorism first developed and the collection of

normative data was a major occupation. Dr. Jones knew John B. Watson and

his wife personally, as well as Robert Woodworth, Lawrence Frank ard others

whose names are prominent in the history of their period. Her interview is

a subjective accounting that draws an intimate picture of a time when tbe

psychologist working with the fears of children might keep a snake to be

used in desensitization in a suitcase under her bed and when the consulting

psychologist might take her own toddler with her to the site.

Robert R. Sears became director of the research station a t the

University of Iowa during the forties and continued his research in childhood

personality at various institutions throughout the period of the Supportive

Paradigm. Establishing a methodology for the inclusion of dynamic variables

in empirical research, Sears was instrumental in introducing moti vation to

research in socioemotional development. His findings are often cited in

(107, p.2)
 223
...
Parents Magazine during this period, particularly those concerning the ill

effects of physical punishment. As one with a sense of history, Sears

pro vides a molar view of child psychology.

John S. Watson is a relative newcomer to developmental psychology.

He entered the field as the study of cognition began to domina te

developmentalism and as llnear models of behavior were replaced by

interactive ones. Along with Kagan, Lewis, and Bower, Watson is among the

pioneers in the study of infant psychology. His work is representative of the

period of the Reciprocal Relationship Paradigm. His comments shed light on

the complex interacting relationship between sociopolitical forces and

psychology.

(107, p.3)
 IDstltate of Human Development 1203 Edward Chace TolmaD BaIl
Berkeley, Califomla 14720

August 19, 1985

.I
Alice Smuts
4011 ,Thornoaks
Ann Arbor, Michigan 48104
Dear Alice,
What a wonderful 'production you have cr~ated out of mY skimpy notes. You
are a marvelous person to have undertaken and accomplished this report.
All this effort under the health hazards which troubled you and Bob.
I had family all last week - children, grandchildren, great grandchildren.
Today the roofers began putting a new roof on my house. f.!hanks for the '
X~ article about Harwell, great;) So goes. August for me.. .
~~. I'm gl~d yours had a good beginning and hope it will have a good ending.
With thanks, appreciation and warm best wishes to you and Bob. .
Sincerely,

Mary C.Jones

.~~~.
.- MCJ:jlf

- -

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( ~ DEPARTMENT, OF HEALTH &. HUMAN SERVICES Public Health Service

.~,~~~
~.tt-"IQ~ National Institutes of Health
National Institute on Aging
Gerontology Research Center
4940 Eastern Avenue
Baltimore, Maryland 21224

March 12, 1986

.,

Dr. Mary C. Jones ':.

2683 Shasta Road
Berkeley, CA 94708
Dear Mary:
We are writing to ask you to participate in an experiment. The
experiment stems'from a long term concern with the question of how
aging influences behavior and performance and, more importantly, the
mechanisms which generate the phenomena of aging.
It seems to us that the slow progress that scientists have made
in explaining the phenomena of aging may be due to the fact that few
of them haven given much thought to the possible mechanisms of aging.
Since aging is a universal process which affects everyone it seems to
us that everyone, especially scientists, should give serious thought
to solving this problem.
In our opinion research on aging by developing scientists could
be stimulated by publicizing the thoughts of more mature investigators
who have already demonstrated important accomplishments in some area
or areas of psychology.
We propose to invite a number of scientists, like yourself, to
record their speculations on two questions about themselves and their
sqientific work: 1) Could age playa role in the phenomena that I
have been studying and, if so, how? 2) Could individual variations in
the phenomena that I have been studyingJplay a role in regulating the
rate of aging? G. S. Hall, with his publication of Senesence repre-
sents a most salient example of the fruition of this idea.
It seems to us that such speculations might be most stimulating
to gerontologists. We hope that you will be challenged by this idea
and will let us know what you think of it. Your speculations, in con-
cert with others, would be collected into a volume which we are sure

(l 9,a p p , 1 - 2)

_.- - --- .... _--_.----- ..... ..

--. _ . . " . . .
Dr. Jones 2

would be read by many in the psychological community and in doing so

would give them pause to consider the impact of adult aging on the
behaviors which they propose to study.
We are planning to contact a number of senior psychologists, such
as, E. Lowell Kelly, Jerome Bruner, B. F. Skinner, Ernest Hilgard,
John Flanagan, Clyde Coombs, Jane Loevinger, Carl Rogers, and Oscar
Kaplan as potential participants. We will appreciate your suggestions
for others.
Yours sincerely,

Nathan W. Shock, Ph.D.

Scientist Emeritus, NIH
Former Scientific Director, NIA

oft}t~
Leonard Giambra, Ph.D
Research Psychologist, NIA
NWS/lG:eda

(l09, p.2)
 .- .

A22 THE NEW YORK TIMES OBITUARIES WEDNESDAy,. NOVEMBER 15,1989

Nathan Shock, Pioneer on Aging

By JOAN COOK •
Dr. Nathan W. Shock, a noted geron- scientist emeritus of the National Insti-
tologist who was a former director of tute of Aging's Gerontology R~se~rch
the Government's pioneering Geron- Center in Baltimore.
tology Research Center, died of cance.r Dr. Shock,a native of Lafayette, Ind.,
Sunday at the Francis Scott Key MedlJ received bachelor's and master's de-
cal Center in. Bal~imore. He was 82 grees at Purdue University an~ a d,:!c-
years old and lived m Towson, Md. torate in psychology at the Umversity
Dr. Shock combined science, com- of Chicago. He moved to Baltimore in
mon sense and humor to educ~ue 1941 from Berkeley. Calif., to join the
others on aging. He was an effective first research program on aging in the .
advocate for spending and research in National Institutes of Health. From
his field, and among the areas he ex- 1941 to 1964 he directed a unit of the
plored was the physiology of aging in physiology division. He next worked
the heart, kidneys, lungs, nerves and with the National Institute of Child
brain. He and his collegues clocked the Health and Human Development as di-
rates that parts of the body age and rector of the Gerontology Research
documented that individuals. age at Center, and spent a year as scientific
vastly different rates. director of the National Institute on
Since 1976 he had held the title of Aging before retiring in 1976. •.. ,
From 1959 to 1970 he. :served on
atomic bomb casualty advisory board i
of the National Academy of Sciences. I
He was president of the Gerontological I
societyot America from 1960· to 1961 :
and was editor in chief of The Journal :
of Gerontology. From 1969 to 1972 he.
was president of the International AS-'
sociation of Gerontology. .
Dr. Shock, a widower, is survived by
two sons Joseph B. of Timonium, Md.,
and Joh~ H. of Alexandria, Va.; a sis-
ter Beatrice Hargett of Hesperia,
Caiif.; seven grandchildren and two-
great-grandchildren.

Permission granted by The New York Times to reprint herein

(one time reproduction only), }~y 3, 1990.

(109, p.3)
C\I\"[]\SlTY i)F C.\LiFOl\:\IA. BERKELEY

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..,
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~~~

.nsututc ci Human Dcv l'i. :~::ll'r::: 1:~3 I:Jwnru Ch,]t~ T ... !I:'..:.:; E.:!L
Berxelev, C..lhIotnl:l :147::U

April 17, 1986

Dr. Mary C. Jones

#355 Samarkand
2663 Tallant Road
Santa Barbara, California 93105
Dear Mary:
I am forwarding a letter addressed to you
which was sent tu me by Harcuurt Bi';:lce
Jovanovich. They are publishing a book
in which some reference is made to your work.
After checking with Dorothy Eichorn, I sent
a glossy of the "founders" portrait of you to
the publisher. I hope this meets with your
approval.
You are very much missed here at the Institute,
but I know Santa Barbara has many attractions
that will keep you busy for years to come.
Cordially,
~
::::.:.---
Ann West

(110, pp. 1- 5 )
~ Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Publishers College Production De8:
U50 Sixth Avenue, San Diego, CA 92101
Telephone (619) 231-0616

April 4, 1986

Mary Cover Jones

Institute of Human Development
1203 Tolman Hall
U.C. Berkeley CA 94708

Dear Sir/Madam:

HARCOURT BRACE JOVANOVICH, DiC. in c~rently preparing for publication the

fourth edition of a college textbook entitled A HISTORY OF MODERN PSYCHOLOGY
by Duane Schultz and Sidney Schultz. As part of the illustration program for
this book, we need to obtain the following:
Po_pp:r;.:t_+...ait_of-yourself (to be supplied by Ann West/U.C.B). Enclosed is the
relevant text. I will appreciate your immediate respo~se, as this book is now
being dummied, and we are in a great rush. We will be happy to send you a
complementary copy of the book upon publication (hopefully, end of this year!)
MaI:\Y thanks •••

A HISTORY OF MODERN PSYCHOLOGY is expected. to have a 1986 copyright date, and

we are requesting one-time U.S. distribution English language textbook rights.

Thank you for your help, and I lookfJrward to receiving your reply as quickly
as possible.

Sincerely,

Robin Risque
Art Editor
College Department

(lID, p.2)
 - ... ., f" 11 7~
~,-nL.- L. I ' -

At Hopkins Watson W.:lS extremely popular with the students. The year
after his arrival the students dedicated their yearbook to him, and in 1919
the senior class voted him the handsomest professor, certainly a unique
accolade in the history of psychology.
Watson said that he began thinking about a more objective approach to
psychology around 1903. His thoughts on the subject were expressed
publicly for the first time in 1908, in a lecture at Yale University. In 19U, at
the invitation of James McKeen Cattell, he spoke again on the subject in a
series of lectures at Columbia University. The following year Watson's
famous position paper was published and behaviorism was officially
launched.
Watson's first book, Behavior: An Introduction to Comparative Psychology,
appeared in 1914. In it he argued for the acceptance qf animal psychology
and stressed the advantages of animals as subjects in psychological research.
and students/ Watsonian behaviorism appealed to many younger ps}'c..lotologists~·ho be-
lieved that Watson was cleansing the muddled atmosphere of psyChology
..L by casting off long-standing mysteries and uncertainties carried over from
~ D tJ.Il;f V'f:tI-D philosophy. Mary Cover Jone~a graduate student during those years, wrote
~,
... II iSS
years latef1haf she could still remember the excitement that greeted the
publication of one of Watson's books. "It shook the foundations of traditional
f.
~ ~1J-ciJ
w-> European-bred psychology, and we welcomed it.....it pointed the way
from annchair psychology to action and reform and was therefore hailed as

~
a panacea" (1974, p. 582).
Tfte 'apia uiipta.gs gf Jor,tSipt':!! p:!!:!!Hisli ai i";dl1.ll. lJ~ hi:!! dees:!! ...
, til 'hI! p..,&ieiRQr Iii lhe Aue'.II. ]i!lirihiil.~.lal A :!!!oeiaHsli ip 19*i, jKel
'I'm JIBa" after his ipfl"iPtia] papn appilJrili liB all 'PiP 37 riaiii' d aso
Watson's professional activities were interrupted by a tour in the Army
~viation Service as a;:Rajor during World War I. After the war, in 1918, he
began his research on children, one ~f the earliest attempts at experimental
work on human infants.
His second book, Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist, appeared
in 1919, and presented a more complete statement of his position. He argued
that the methods and principles he had earlier recommended for animal
psychology were equally applicable and legitimate for the study of humans.
Around this time Watson 19ceume tlie :lint '11~'Sb~haist (iaseeei, cite itiS't
uil lliel i: 1111' liiui!,liu) Ii !IBei, lhe ,lzy&ioliSi ! uput! ef the !tumaR
aa

5RVpl "Sf! e:we. Fn'S yS?m bdiU .lu .9liou;b I1f UutU! ami }eipliAP .
he research ilIen- W!r-~ studied the physiological changes th.at ::':;::CU:Ted daring-interccurse, ,\.
ioned in Chapter 1 He accomplished this itl lhe most diad" • !!,3uib1o by attaching elec-
hat was lost for so trodes to the bodies of the man and woman who served as subjects and
any years.1 recording various measurements while they engaged in sexual intercourse.
With a commitment to research worthy of any scientist, Watson himself
served as one of the subjects. - '" c.k.,~ .1. •
The eilll" I ': ,&,consequences of this investigation have been described _,
J
';fEGoia(~ 1\
Older psychologists were not universally captivated by Watson's
program. Indeed, most psychologists rejected his revolutionary
approach. We shall examine- the reaction among psychologi~s~t~__~~. .~
and among the public later in this chapter.
~ Only two years after the publication o~ his Psychological Review
paper, Watson was elected president of the American Psychological Association
at the age of 37. This may not represent an endorsement of his position so
much as a recognition of his visibility within the field and his personal
connection with many prominent, established psychologists (Samelson, 1981).

(110, p.3)
 The Albert study has never been successfully replicated.
No one has been able to obtain similar results. Even Watson
admitted that his research was no more than a "preliminary
exposition," a pilot study, but the results have come to be
accepted as scientific evidence. They are cited in virtually
every introductory psychology textbook (often incorrectly) and
•
are rarely questioned (Harris, 1979; Samelson, 198cf).
A
Although Albert may have been conditioned to fear the objects
mentioned, he was no longer available as a subject for Watson
to attempt to remove or eliminate those fears. Not long after
this experiment Watson left academics and so did not pursue the
problem. Some time later, when he was working in the advertising
business, he gave a talk to a New York City audience on his research
with young Albert. (!mong the listeners was Mary Cover Jones,
a former student of Washburn's at Vassar. Watson's remarks sparked
her interest, and she wondered whether the tonditioning technique
could be used to remove children's fears, a sort of "unconditioning"
or :rre c crid i t i onin g" approach (Legan, 1980). She got 'he r former

Vassar classmate, Rosalie Rayner Wat~on, to introduce her to Watson,

and then undertook a study that has become another classic in the
history of psychology (Jones, 1924)~

(110, p.4)
 ... .-'-t-l~
c_ '-1 ' 11-;-:
. ''''''

'!9izl Jilt Ll? •• t!_E l1 1 .• ,'- .. __ " _ 35 !I'Glrod ··PiJb!lilUi::i __ CC@_ - .. _-

~/ .: The subject another child ~a~'

If (Peter), who already showed a fear of ra its; his fear had not been
conditioned in the laboratory. While the child was eating, the rabbit was
brought into the room, but kept at a distance great enough so as not to elicit
the fear response. The rabbit was brought progressively closer, always while
the child was eati . ventually the child could handle the rabbit without
fear. :.zeneralized fear- responses to similar objects could
which may be seen as y this procedure~ A
the first example of Watson's beha\lionst approach to the emotions and his interest in the
behavior therapy, physiological changes that accompany emotional behavior stimulated re-
performed almost 50 search on emotional development in children and on the reaction patterns
years before the for the specific emotions.
technique became
popular.!
Thought
Until the advent of behaviorism, the traditional view of the thought
processes was the "centralist" theory of thinking, which held that thought
processes occur in the brain "so faintly that no neural impulse passes out
over the motor nerve to the muscle, hence no response takes place in the
muscles and glands" a. B. Watson, 1930, p. 239). According to this thesis,
thought processes, because they occur in the absence of muscular move-
ments, are not accessible to observation and experimentation. Thought is
regarded as intangible, something exclusively mental with no physical
referents. The concept of image used by the structuralists is an example of
this viewpoint. .
Watson's peripheral theory of thinking, perhaps his most widely known
theory, takes issue with the older notion and attempts to reduce thinking to
nothing more than implicit motor behavior. Watson argued that thinking,
like all other aspects of human functioning, must be sensorimotor behavior
of some sort. He reasoned that the behavior of thinking is implicit speech
movements. Verbal thinking is reduced to subvocal talking that involves
muscular habits learned in overt speech. These muscular habits become
inaudible as the child grows up.

The c;~ild tQlks i;~c:css::ntly when alanc. At three he t:r:e::'plans ih« d:::y
aloud, IZS my own ear placed outside the key hole of the nurs~ door
hlZS T1ery often confirmed. Soon society in the form of nurse and parents
steps in. "Don't talk aloud-daddy and mother art not always tQlking to
themselves." Soon the overt speech diu down to whispered speech and a
good lip reader CQn still read what the child thinks of the world Qnd of
.himself. Some indiuiduals never eTJen mek« this concessian to society.
When alone they talk aloud to themselT1tS. A stiU IQrger number neTJer go

•.
(110, p.5)
<Oaltlanb ¢ribunr
P.O. BOX 24304 (409 13th STREED
OAKLAND. CA 94623. (415) 64&2000

.,.,
~~~\ (Ill, pp.1-2)
,,,. JJI
'
GAtNm
A woeLD Of DffftIENT 'tOKE S
WHEIE H'UDe::W.S'I.u:S

,y.
Tuesday, March 8, 1983 A-7
BRENDA
PAYTON
A life's work
M ARY JONES IS 86 and every day she re-
ports to her office at UC Berkeley's Insti-
. tute for Human Development. Although
I
retired, she volunteers her expertise, acting as
the resident historian of the institute and the
~ield ?f developmental psychology. She also
interviews the group of people she has been
following for 50 years in a study of human
development.
Professor Jones does not believe in making
hasty judgments. - a contemporary of her subjects than an octe-
"It's fascinating. I first met these people
when they were in the fifth grade, and now
they are in their 60s. You couldn't have a
better job," she says, with a pleasant laugh. It
may be a hasty judgment, but there is some-
thing very engaging about this lady.
The research project, designed by the insti-
tute as a longterm study of personality charac-
teristics, started in 1928 with a group of 200
childr~n liv~ng in Oakland. Periodically they
were Interviewed and physically examined as
they progressed through adolescence and adult-
hood; they are being interviewed again this
y~ar. . when it was liberally funded by the Rockefel-
Over the years, as their lives began to take
shape. some correlations fell into place. For
example, many of the men who later became
problem drinkers were extroverted children.
Jones explored this observation in Present and
Past in Middle Life, a book about the study
published in 1981.
(111, p.2)
"I AM VERY careful not to say there is a
drinking personality," Jones stresses,
making sure she details the scientific
techniques used in the study. "Not all of the
problem drinkers had these characteristics.
and not all of the boys with these characteris-
tics became problem drinkers. But there is a
general correlation."
The study found that many of the problem
drinkers were outgoing and popular as young
boys but found it difficult to adjust to adoles-
cence and to develop more responsible rela-
tionships. As a result, they lost prestige in their
own eyes and the eyes -of their peers and
developed feelings of inadequacy. The women
with drinking problems did not share traits as
clearly identifiable.
"If we can identify what leads to problem
drinking then maybe we can spot it carlyon
and help the young people take another path,"
Jones says.
The study also found that people with a
relaxed attitude toward life tend to have fewer
health problems as they get older.
"It is important to study people over time
to see which characteristics change and which
stay the same," she says.
Over the years the lines between the re-
searchers and the subjects of the study have
broken down as they shared the experiences of
marriage, children, grandchildren and in some
cases death. Jones calls the members of her
group on their birthdays and they exchange
greetings at Christmas.
"MANY OF US have become friends,"
Jones says. "Through the study I think
I have known more about different
people than I would have otherwise. Over the
years in your family you see people doing what
you didn't expect. I've seen that with a larger
group of people. It's like an extended family."
Wearing a light-blue checked pants suit and
a flowered print blouse, Jones looks more like
genarian. Her hair is white, but thick and
stylishly combed. Her eyes are quick and clear
in a face soft with creases. She is just as likely
to jump up to find something in her file cabinet
to illustrate her point as she is to discuss it.
She often answers with a "yep."
"I don't get tired. Sometimes I feel I don't
do as well as I used to, but it's better than if I
weren't doing anything at all," she says. "I
have a little trouble hearing. But I think you
have to keep your gray cells going."
She recalls the early days of the institute,
started by her late husband, Harold E. Jones,
ler Foundation.
"We first got the children in the study
interested because we would take them on
excursions and give them lunch. It was all paid
for by the grant," she says. "One of the little
boys even went in a store, asked for an ice
cream bar and said to charge it to the Rocke-
fellers. Of course now the funding is much
more difficult. Now I think they view their
participation as a contribution to science."
In keeping with her philosophy about the
importance of contact between the generations
and continuity in life, Jones and one of her
grandsons share the Berkeley house where she
has lived for more than 50 years.
"Sometimes there is a generation gap," she
laughs. "But generally we get along well."
Local columnist Brenda Payton writes on
Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.
 GARY FRIEDMAN / Los Angeles Times
Mary Jones, UC Berkeley professor emeritus, is still involved in
project that has followed a group from adolescence to middle age.

Youth Study Turns Into a Story

ofa Lifetime for Researcher, 86 .
By HARRIET STIX
BERKELEY- When psycholo- which summarizes the researchers'
gist Harold Jones was invited to half-century of work with the study
move from Columbia University to group. Currently a professor emeri-
DC Berkeley to help establish a tus of education in DC's Institute of
longitudinal study of adolescents, Human Development, Jones is the
UC President William W. Campbell only chapter author who was in-
came all the way to New York to volved in the original work.
.pop the question. In the beginning, of course, she
Harold Jones' main concern: had no idea she was making' a
"Will there be a job for Mary?" lifetime commitment. Born in
That was in 1928, and 55 years Johnstown, Pa., in 1896,she went to
later, there is still a job for 86- Vassar College and then to Colum-·
year-old Mary Cover Jones, who bia for graduate work in psycholo-.
recalled the details of her husband's gy. It was there that she met her'
hiring. She continues to be involved husband, also a graduate student..
with that research project, which When they were asked to move-to
has followed a group of Oakland Berkeley, Harold Jones was direc--
youngsters from adolescence tor of research at Columbia's Insti-
through their present middle age. tute of Child Development and Mary
She contributed a chapter on "Mid- Jones was a research associate.
life Drinking Patterns" to a book, Her participation in the Oakland'
"Present and Past in Middle Life," Please see RESEARCHER, Page 6

Cl12. nn.1-1)
 6 Part V/Monday, June 27, 1983
RESEARCHER: Study' Becomes Story of Lifetime
Continued from First Page
study began with visits to the parents of the children.
involved, and to their schools, where she described the
project. "Most parents and children were interested in
being in it," she said, "although I remember one father.
said, 'Now, I don't want you to psychoanalyze my
child.' "
The project now known as Intergenerational Studies
in fact began as three separate investigations. The
Guidance Study and the Berkeley Growth Study were
both started in 1928 with babies born that yea" in
Berkeley. The Guidance Study was originally planned
as a six-year investigation of, among other-things, the
influence on behavior problems of intensive discussions
with parents about child-rearing practices. The Berke-
ley Growth Study was designed to trace normal
intellectual, motor and physical development during the
first year of life.
Study Will Continue
The Oakland Growth Study (called originally the
Adolescent Growth Study) got under way in 1931, and
involved fifth- and sixth-graders between 10 and 12'
years old. It was designed to study normal adolescence,
particularly physical and physiological maturation and
peer relationships. With the passage of time, there
inevitably were a certain number of dropouts, and in
recent years, the three projects were combined,
"When we got going, we thought it important to be
studying the same people, but we didn't know we would
keep on as long as we have. We will probably follow
them for the rest of their lives," Jones said.:
Besides beihg tested and measured, the Oakland
youngsters were observed and rated at social events,
particularly at a "clubhouse" established by the study.
"They decided they wanted to have parties with the
staff as chaperones, rather than their parents," Jones
recalled.
Over the years, she came to know not only the study
participants, but their parents, children, grandchildren
and, in a couple of cases, great-grandchildren. Once in a
while, participants hold reunions, and every five years
or so, send in notes about their lives for a newsletter.
Some of the participants have told Jones that they
stay In the study because they believe that they are
making a contribution, while others say they appreciate
what they are able to get out of it for themselves. They
say they find It helpful to talk about their life situations.
In the early years, the "job for Mary" was a part-time
one. "My daughters were 5 and 2th when we came here,
and I didn't work full time until the girls were through
high school," she said. In June, 1960, Jones and her
husband retired and went to Europe for a meeting.
Harold Jones died there, and when his wife returned to
this country, she went to Stanford to work on a study of
drinking problems. , more drinks daily and more on occasions' moderate
She said she is constantly asked whether her interest
in problem drinkers grew out of some personal problem.
The answer is no: She got involved "because there was
the money to study it... She wrote several articles on the
subject in the '60s, based on the Oakland group, as well
as the book chapter, Her long connection with the
elementary school youngsters gives her observations a
keen edge.
She suggests that it may be possible to predict who is
likely to become a problem drinker on the basis of early
personal qualities. In the longitudmal study, boys who
were eventually to become problem drinkers as adults
were, as adolescents, more likely than their peers to be
described as "immature, negativistic, impulsive and
self-centered," They were said to be less sympathetic,
giving and dependable than their contemporaries who
did not grow up to have drinking problems, Even by the
ninth grade they themselves said they had less
satisfactory social relationships than their classmates.
As adults, they were rated as more poorly adjusted,
dependent and lacking in self-esteem, and generally
had less satisfactory marital and family relationships.
On the other hand, in junior high school, they were
rather extroverted and assertive. That was the "heyday
of sociability and superficial social success for these
boys," Jones said; by the time they reached senior high
school, their social acceptance dropped. Their ratings on
prestige, confidence and emotional buoyancy were
down, and the observers noted "a lot of significant
change." Jones suggested that "transitions to later
adolescence, manhood and heterosexual orientation
brought them into situations with which they could not
cope adequately. .
"They were very dependent upon social relationships,
especially the boys, but they didn't seem to have the
understanding of people to make the more intimate
friendships and relattonships necessary for maturity.
Also, some came up against more critical problems in
their lives, and this was their way of coping."
Girls who would become problem drinkers were less
easily identified, according to Jones, although they-were
described as being more unpredictable. Unlike the boys,
who in their earlier years were socially oriented and
outgoing, the girls tended to have unsatisfactory peer
relationships. Classmates saw them as less 'talkative
humorous, enthusiastic and friendly, but morebossy and
attention-seeking, The researchers rated them less
socially self-confident, less self-assertive and less
popular with boys.
Jones' findings are based on 193 study members who
answered questions about their drinking habits. They
range in age today from the mid-50s to the early-60s.
They were studied as teen-agers and again in th(}ir,·30s,
40s and 50s, Nineteen had developed serious drinking
problems by their 40s. Five who were classified as
problem drinkers have already died, four since inter-
views at age 43. .
For the purposes of the study, participants. were
divided into categories: abstainers who seldom or never
drink; light drinkers who drink small amounts and drink
ipfrequently; heavy drinkers who typically have two or
dr!nkers who fall between heavy and light, a~d problem
drmkers who not only drink about as much as.heavy
drinkers. !)'J~ have additional complaints. They were- so
classified. Jones said, "if they said they had a-problem,
or if their family said they did, or if they had lost a job or
had some other difficulty attributable to alcohol."
Jones said tne study gives 50'11(: support '0 the
suggestion tiliit problems ·:of alcohol abuse have roots in
early socialization experiences, especially in the hmily.
Future problem drinkers expressed less affection,
admiration and respect for their parents. family interac-
tions also noted the less satisfactory parent-chile
relationships.
(l12. n. 7.)
 'Drinking Personality' D~esn't Exist
On the other hand, Jones warned against assuming
that there is such a thing as a drinking personality. She
emphasized that these characteristics do not apply only
to problem drinkers, or even to all problem drinkers.
Jones said she hopes the study will be used "to locate
youngsters with the problem, and find practical ways to
solve it. If you are, for example, a parent' or a
schoolteacher, to understand the Individual is impor-
tant. So in selecting teachers, it is important to get
people who are interested in the mdivtdual, who: know
when the person is having problems, and who Will help
in handling them."
Energetic and brisk, Jones still comes into her office
on the UCBerkeley campus every day. Her next project
will be an investigation of the effects of late or.early
physical maturing. It is her impression that girls who
matured late had an easier time.
"Now I want to see if there are still any differences."
she said.

(112, p.3)
Photograph taken by an OGS member
on the occasion of the 50th Reunion.
Sunday, November 3, 1985

(113)
Left to right: Mary Cover Jones, Myrtle McGraw
Harriett Rheingold

f2£cD
~''\
FYl',-L-42

(114 )
 THE WRIGHT INSTITUTE 2728 DURANT AVENUE BERKELEY CA 94704 (415) 841-9230
Philburn Ratoosh, Ph.D.
President
Nevitt Sanford, Ph.D.
President Emeritus

GREETINGS!

The next meeting of the Gerontological Luncheon Group will be:

Thursday, April 22, 1982

12:30 pm
Berkeley City Club
2315 Durant Avenue, Berkeley

(Unfortunately, the Red Room was unavailable on Wednesday, the 21st; the date
we had originally selected. Sorry if this' change inconveniences anyone.)

This month, Richard Santee will talk about social organization of residents
councils in age-segregated facilities for the elderly.

RSVP to Cassandra Lumsey, 841-9230 no later than Friday, April 16.

......
.t. ,~

......... "

-'CSI •

(115 )

•
THE VASSAR COLLEGE
MADRIGAL
SINGERS
James Armstrong, Conductor

SPRINGTOUR 1985
in a program of Madrigals,
Chansons and Motets

Bach, Lobet den Herrn

Ton de Leeuw, Carnos vignes sont enfleur (1981)
(US premiere)
Debussy; Trois Chansons
and works by
Dunstable,Gesua1do, Schutz and Weelkes

Sl!NDA~ M . ;. \RCH 10, 3:00 PM

CollegePreparatory School, 6100 Broadway, Oakland, CA
Sponsored by the East Bay Vassar Club

FR£L- (116 )
Introducing GEL

The Group For Enriched Living

ForWomen and Men Aged 50 and Older

GEL offers an opportunity to discuss

• Enjoying retirement
• Maintaining good relationships with adult children
• Being tactful and helpful grandparents
• Understanding and helping your parents
• Staying healthy
• Recovering from loss or illness
• Or whatever else concerns you

GEL is a self help group for people who

• Enjoy a friendly, non-judgmental group discussion
• Want to talk with other resourceful people
• Are willing to share their experiences
• Want to learn from others

Meetings on Mondays, 1:30-3:00 p.m.

1606 Scott Street
Groups limited to 8 members
Anonymity and confidentiality respected

You are welcome to visit before joining

For more information about GEL, please call 567-1711 and ask for
Marge Lozoff, John Curtis or George Silberschatz

(117, pp.1-3)
Mount Zion Hospital and Medical Center / San Francisco
 Mount Zion Hospital and Medical Center
1600 Divisadero Street, San Francisco/Telephone (415) 567-6600
Mailing Address: Post Office Box 7921, San Francisco, California 94120

April 8, 1981

Re: Group for Enriched Livi~; Monday sessions

We have consulted with Janis Olvarado to obtain names of physicians

whose interest in older patients led to their utilization of Mount Zion
Hospital's Geriatric Information, Counseling and Referral service. We
want to inform you of a new service--a leaderless, self-help discussion
group--offered for men and women fifty years of age and older.

h'e have had one group meeting weekly for the past five morrths and
would like to start a second group. This second group will meet on
Mondays between 1:00 and 2:30 P.M. at 1606 Scott Street.

Marge Lozoff has been a participant-observer of the group now in

existence. She also arranges administrative details. Recently retired,
she is a former psychiatric social worker and reseal'cher in the area of
normal personality development. Besides personally benefitting from
participating in the group, she is interested in learninr more about
individuals who have functioned well most of their lives and are now
dealing with situations connected with the aging process.

The group provides meaningful companionship for the participants and

an opportunity for open discussion and helpfulness to others. A participant
of the Tuesday group described it as follows:

It is a rare experience to be a member of a group that is wholly

unjudgemental; where we can air our thoughts and feelings without
fear of criticism or of being placed in a category. Instead we
are assured of acceptance and can speak freely with the hope that
something of our personal experience will be helpful to ourselves
and others. We are not exhorted to do anything, but can take to
ourselves only what is relevant to our own situation. We meet in
this spirit of sharing an ongoing life, of establishing meaningful
relations among ourselves and of being able to enjoy what the good
earth still offers us. Fe talk to each other, reason things out

(117, p.2)
Constituent Agency of The Jewish Welfare Federation of San Francisco, Marin and the Peninsula
 FORMAT FOR THE GROUP FOR ENRICHED LIVING

WE MEET AGAIN TO ENJOY A RARE EXPERIENCE, THAT OF BEING A MEMBER OF

A GROUP THAT IS WHOLLY UNJUDGEMENTAL, WHERE WE CAN AIR OUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
WITHOUT FEAR OF CRITICISM. WE ARE ASSURED OF ACCEPTANCE AND CAN SPEAK FREELY WITH
THE HOPE THAT SOMETHING IN OUR PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WILL BE HELPFUL TO OURSELVES
AND OTHERS. WE ARE NOT EXHORTED TO DO ANYTHING, BUT CAN TAKE TO OURSELVES ONLY
WHAT IS RELEVANT TO OUR OWN SITUATION. WE MEET IN THIS SPIRIT OF SHARING AN=
ONGOING LIFE AND LEARNING FROM EACH OTHER'S EXPERIENCES.

WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD HERE WAS SPOKEN IN CONFIDENCE AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS
CONFIDENTIAL. MATTERS DISCUSSED AT THESE MEETINGS SHOULD REMAIN WITHIN THE WALLS
OF THIS ROOM AND THE CONFINES OF YOUR MIND. THE USE OF FIRST NAMES PROVIDES
A CHOICE OF ANONYMITY.

THIS GROUP OBTAINS COMMUNITY BACKING AS A DEVELOPMENTAL STUDY GROUP

CONTRIBUTING TO KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THE PROCESS OF CONSTRUCTIVE ADAPTATION TO
THE CHALLENGE OF THE AGEING~PROCESS.IT IS NOT A THERAPY GROUP. IT IS NOT A
SOCIAL GROUP.

PARTICIPANTS IN THIS GROUP HAVE BEEN INVITED INTO THE GROUP BECAUSE THEY
HAVE THE CAPACITIES TO (I)OBSERVE LIFE ABOUT THEM AND REFLECT ABOUT THEIR
OBSERVATIONS: (2)ARTICULATE"THESK ·OBSERVATIONS AND REFLECTIONS AND SHARE THEM
WITHIN THE GROUP AND (3) LISTEN RESPECTFULLY TO THE OBSERVATIONS AND REFLECTIONS
OF OTHER PEOPLE.

PARTICIPANTS CONTRIBUTE~mT'::rHEY.'iWISK~EACH'!MEETING FOR INCIDENTAL EX-

PENSES.

This statement was written in the winter of 1988 by

Marjorie M. Lozoff, 'founder and facilitator of GEL.

(117, p.3)
 Module One
Hovv to Use This Book

Mary Cbver Jones at the computer

Introduction
The UNIX operating system provides an effective and efficient way
to compose papers, write computer programs, enter data, and
maintain records. UNIX is a powerful system: there is virtually no
limit to what can be accomplished using its variety of commands
and programs. Because it can do so much it is rather complicated.
Due to its complexity people have often found learning to use
UNIX a frustrating and at times overwhelming experience. As a
direct result of interacting with people as they learned UNIX and
text processing we developed this modular, self-paced, "{ow-jargon"
handbook.

Prerequisites
None. It is assumed that the reader has no knowledge of comput-
ers, UNIX, or text processing.
---...
t-'
t-'
co
Objectives
'-'

The objective of this Module is to introduce you to the essential

conventions and the modular format used in this book so you can
effectively learn U;\IX and text processing.
 - _ ........

716 Colu.mbia ~'l.iUl'

::S'an.eMatEo, Calif. 94402

r- .....

e. .-.~._.
_.~~-~..,,-_.-

,1.-

(119, pp.1 -2)

 Avis Worthington and
Mary Cover Jones

Dr. Milton Lozoff and

Marjorie M. Lozoff

The Lozoff
Extended Family

: ~._.'- -~.

(119, p.2)
 ROB ERT J. RIE SEN FEL D.
M.D .
A PROF ESSI ONAL COR PORA
TION
CAR OLYN B. KLE BAN OFF
. M.D .
INTE RNAL MED ICINE
300 0 COL BY STRE ET, SUIT
E 105
BER KELE Y. CAL IFOR NIA
9470 5
TELE PHON E 848 -797 7

Jan uar y 14, 1986

RE: MARY C. JCN ES

To whcrn it may con cer n,

Ms. Ma ry Jon es is ful ly

in the eve nt of an em erg enc y cap abl e of tak ing car e of he rse lf
suc h as fir e. She is ind epe nde
am bul ato ry. ntl y

If I may be of fur the r ass ist

to ca ll. anc e, ple ase do no t he sit ate

ROB ERT J. RIE SEN FEL D.

M.D .
A PROF ESSI ONAL COR POR
ATIO N
CAR OLYN B. KLE BAN OFF
. M.D .
300 0 COL BY STRE ET. SUIT
E 105
BER KELE Y, CAL IFOR NIA
947 05

(12 0 )
Retirement Community 2663 Tallant Road
Santa Barbara, California 93105
(805) 687-0701

February 24, 1986

Mrs. Mary C. Jones

2683 Shasta Road
Berkeley, CA 94708
Dear Mrs. Jones:
We are pleased to inform you that your application for residency
at The Samarkand has been reviewed and approved by our Board of
Managers. We are reviewing your medical report at this time.
Westview #355 is being readied for your occupancy. We are pleased
that you will be coming back to The Samarkand. You will be an
excellent addition.
Sincerely,

EN/jb

(121, pp.1-2)

Owned and Operated by the Board of B"!1i!\'olcnce uf the Evangelical Covcnc nr Church
_.....
~ ..
. -.r3./.

The Sama,.ian6
2663 tyaLfant ~._
Santa Bar6a.m, Ca!.!Jornia.
93105

(121, p.2)
 ,.
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Exer pt from unda ted lette r writt en by Loui se to

her siste r, Mary ;
prob able date , first half of 1985 .

Copy given by the late Mary Cove r Jones for inclu

sion here in.

(122 )
 ~~~­
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(123, p.4)
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 ",

(124, pp.1-2)
r- .-.

. .J

BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE
(parus atricapiIIus)
The titmouse family, of which the Black-capped Chickadee is a member, has captivated
people throughout its range. These birds have several characteristics which have endeared
them to humans. They display a saucy demeanor which leads to fearless approach of people
and mobbing of predators many times their sizc.They are also easily trained to be-hand fed
at birdfeeders. Some, including the BIack-capped Chickadee, nest.in cavities and sometimes
-use birdhouses put up by people.
The Black-capped Chickadee's "fee bee" song is one of the first signs that Spring is really on
---.-------.--the-Way:. also 'very much enjoysniall bandsofchickadees that stop "their foraging to -.- -.--
investigate and scold me on my walks through cedar swamps near our horne.

BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE
Printed from
Pen and In" Drawings
by
([. 1985 Carl lames Freeman

\. ,oj. , .!
::~e! HC.~:~:-'6 rL:..~
.!;,...., ~
(124, p.2)
(125 )
'\
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rr"w
) /.'.Y"" .f,., .,
r.:'JJ
'•.__'...
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0

Santa Barbara, CA 93105 (~ll3!-A

1.'
Dear Mary Jones: w~a r 1ce -
- • tLJ

surprise. We will w'lcbm~ yO:'

l'lf"
back to a new Samarkan." nt .I ng
is going on at a feverish pace
as the new buildings a€e to b~
dedicated on Saturday. i POST CARD
has had a bad fall ~>-
and is just out of the hospit~1
due to a broken scapula. Hop~ Mrs. MGv'f"..;J ,::mes
to see enough improvement to 2683 Shas ta ~d.
attend a special dinner on Berkeley, CA 94708
Saturday.
.Co r d i all 1y ,

591414

(126, pp.1-3)
(126, p.2)
 -

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-GL4~~ LC~ -/~--

~~~ ~
~/J'-A/~J~~~~~
~a:::~~a~'-"'---"",,------

(126, p.3)
 •211~FAIRFIELD
• MR-¥RS JOHN COVER
PIKE
, YELLOW SPRINGS OH 45387

s: /Jb; a;~ -J ~
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(128, pp.1-2)
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(129, pp.1 -2)
(129, p.2)
 ~i I C»---PJ-k -

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rc.: L.v\. ,:"'\..L1.f!.e ".,Jl
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iSeniors wo rk in g
h yc~,k~~y :hard for se lv es
yev
l
cl ~ L~/ J One of the largel y unsung activities taking place in
Santa Monica on a daily basis is the work of the Senior
Health and Peer Counseling Center (SHPCC).
-X ~~ ri4 )~ Its contribution to. the community is tremendous.
e::/~ ~~---C( ~. Currently in its seventh year, SHPCC was founded by
senior citizens concerned about gaps in government
~ « u.J...Q. ~-uJ) . health insurance progr ams. Health care professionals
and others joined in a progr am to provide free physical
-+ ~ ~ !-C/l },-J. >_ and menta l health servic es to older adults.
Because progr ams offered by SHPCC are preventive,
~t Q~ A they are not covered by Medicare or Medi-Cal insurance.
_ Partic ipatio n of older people as volunteers is an essen-
.tial eleme nt of SHPCC's philosophy. By training talent ed !

and experienced older adults as service providers in its

programs, SHPCC is able to offer services which benefit
both the recipients and the providers. Senior volunteers
achieve new feelings of self-worth through their
participation. .
Anyone who wonders about that needs only to talk to a
volunteer for a minute or two. It quickl y becom es
apparent.
Everyone from Execu tive Direc tor Bernice Bratt er to
the newest volunteer exhibits an enthusiasm that is
almost beyond belief. People associated with SHPCC
most certai nly demo nstrat e that they believe in what
they are doing. They simply do not take no for an answer.
Most, we imagine, have removed the word from their
vocabularies.

(130, pp.1- 2)
 Cont inued from prev ious page:
From The Santa Moni ca Outlo ok

Like almos t au orgarnzauons 01 ItS type, SHPCC is

beginning to suffer some initial signs of growi ng pains.
Our money, however, is bet on them solving those
proble ms. Curre ntly housed in a building owned by Saint .
John's Hospital and Health Cente r, for instan ce, the
cente r will one of these days need additional space . It is
alread y short of space for trainin g volun teers .
.Fede ral cutba cks have tighte ned the finan cial.
purse string s as well. Curre nt needs requir e that fund-
raisin g activi ties be stepped up. The comm unity un-
doubtedly will be hearin g more about these needs in the
future.
Gover nmen tal grants , fund-raising activi ties by the
cente r itself and its volunteers and other suppo rters,
donations by various companies, group s and individuals
and a United Way grant curren tly pay the bills.
The Santa Monica progr am is alread y consid ered a
model for progr ams of its kind throug hout the count ry.
SHPPCC will be more and more recognized by those :
famil iar with it. :
It deserv es even greate r recognition at home as well. :
I

(130, p.2)
(131, p.2)
(131, p.3)
 I \.-->2-. ~C1"_' _.

~- {.).,--,--l~_5--<L- C' \ ) CL ( i ~) ~J ()
/
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C) C o.: ,":j :~" -"(~( 1 '
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(13 1, p.4 )
I.

-!
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~'1bw.\~~~~ e-d-rUClSlf:..L:./~f--~ft.
INe ~ /I
o..u.d IJ..U..t4f --1M-QQ.}. ft&-pe~y ~~
~ fL. 'f-aA +u..u.c.-. ~ (~Lf~ ~
)/1
r

Design by Kourosh Namazi, aged 13, Iran. ~ III

. . Courtesy of the Institute of Intellectual J.J!.1Jl. d- (J..f!
Development for Children (Tehran), to .
benefit theUnited Nations Children's Fund
(UNICEF).

Composition parKourosh Namazi. 13ans,

'Iran. Reproduction autonsee par rinstitut
- pour Ie developpement Intellectuel de
l'entam (Teheran), au profit du Fonds des
Nations Unies pourI'enfance (UNICEF).

Dbra deKourosh Namazi, 13anos deedad,

Iran; cortesia del Institute of Intellectual
Development for Children (Teheran), Con-
tribuci6n al Fondo delasNaciones Unidas
parala Infancia (UNICEF).

76204 Printed in Canada

(132, p.2)
 Joseph Wolpe, M.D.
315 Baird Road
./l1erion, Penns)'lvania 19066

July 21, 1986

Dr. Mary Cover Jones

Samarkand
2665 Tallant Road
Santa Barbara,' Calif. 93105
Dear Mary:
It is intolerable for you to describe yourself
as "a loser and a has-been". You will never
cease to be a shining light. Your function
today, both physically and mentally, is
remarkable - even if not at the level of 40
years ago.
I am delighted at the ~igor with which you
continue to spr~ad-the word!
I have given Stella your message about the
pincushion. We both send you'our love;

Affecti~.?telY.'

r~
I

JW:bjs

:;... .
. ~.

(133 )
- _. - v- ~ . .- - -. ..~ ~--==:.::.= ...~_:-_- .... --

/J.fL~ft.y~ J
....... ~ ... ~~
~~~"7JUL.
vJv.Jft~;t;;~
'. 71Uf~tV9 P-m - - ~~
\c~.. ,- '~'ii-~':Lc"~; ;:" :.'~'~

(134 )
 FRIDAY Pfil
BEAR MARY:
GOT YOUR LETTER THIS MORNING. I IviliST REPLY. ",.:HAT PSYCHIATRIST
WOULD CALL A PERSON A LOSER? A LOSER FROM WHAT? ','Ii HAVE JUST IVlOVED
INTO A DIFFERENT CYCLE. THAT IS ~~AT I MEANT BY THE Sr~ILKRITY Tu THE
ADOLESCENT---WE HAVE ~~DL THE CYCLE TO milCH w~ MUST. ADJUST. YOUR Pa3T
. ~t.d""'
~s STILL PjffiT OF YOU BY WHY DWELL ON IT. 'LIVE IN YO R PRESENT WORLD.
YOU HAVE ALW~YS DWELLED ON AGE AND WERE AFRAID OF IT. YOU HAD BOOKS
ON GLOF~ICJUS OLD PEOPLE AND WC:-1DEEED l'mY I viASK' T INTERESTE:D IN lHEi·l.
TO HECK WITH THill~. AGAIN ~BY DO THEY WANT TO BE SO L~PORTANT MOST OF
THElvj ARE PROBA3LY BORES TRYING TO L·IPRESS.

I CAN'T SEE THAT. _ WIi,L BE OF. ANY HELP. IF SHE HAS TU BE

P.~PERED SO SHE HAD BETTER STAY HO~ili.

FORGET AGE. DON' T DVI~LL ON YOURSELF AND I CERTAINLY AGREE THAT

YOU DO NOT NEED TO GO BACK TO BERKELEY. FORGET IT TOO. RECYCLE YOUR (§
S~LF AND LIVE TOD~Y. SAYIlI 'ltIAS BUT NOW I AI~l". YOU DON'T HAVE TO
BE A LOSEd UNLESS YOU ~ANT TO D~mLL ON WHAT YOU WERE.
AS BOB SAID THE YOUTH OF ToDAY DON'T FEEL SORRY FO~~HEMSELVES.
WE ASS~lli THAT OUR WORLD WAS THE BEST BECAUSE WE WERE BIG SHOTS IN IT.
THE NEW' GENERATION DOESN'T 'IHINK SO. 'iHEY HAVE THEIR OWN ID.::;AS AND NEW
!fo:<i:Ht y:heoJries THEY HAVE 'l'CSSL:D OUR THOUGHTS IN 'nIE TRASH CAN AND

RIGHTLY SO. LET THElJI LIVE THEIR LIVES •OUR GENERATION WASN'T SO HOT.
IF IT HAD BEEN ";I!HY- ISN'T THIS GENERATI.)N BETTER SINCE OUR GENERATION
RAISED THEM,. DON'T 'USE YOUR PAST AS A CRUTCH. IT ISN'T WORTHY OF
YOU.
ALL THIS IS OUT OF LOVE FOR you. I WANT
YOU TO FIND A WAY TO AT LEAST YillKE THE BEST OF LIFE. \~ HAVE TO.
THERE ARE MILLIONS OF US,RID:.E~rnER ALL TRYING TO ADJUST AS WE HAVE
HAD TO DO ALL ALL OUR LIVES BUT JUST ACCEPTED IT AS LIFE.

(135 )
 ,
TUESDAY ;.e.

DEAR ~v1ARY:

WHEN I READ YOUR TWO L~TTEnS I FELT AS IF I WERE READING IN A

N[RROW. ALL YOU SAID AEPLI~S TO M~ ALSO. BOB SAYS I ~4 ALWAYS D~G~ADING

>lYSELF \'THIC h 1 DO AND WHICH M..!l.KES IT UN?L:2.:ASAN 1 FOR HILJI- --'fHAT is Nl)'f

F.4IR. A~ THE HOSPITAL ~ffiE1ING I WAN~ED TO HID. TOD.~ WE GO TO POT

LUC~ ~hICH I DON'T LI~E BfCA~SE I FEEL LEFT OUT BUT THAT ~S NO iXCUS~

FOR AE TO B~ UNPLEASAUT. I THINK YOU SHOULD STOP CONCENl'.R..ATING

IJPON BEING AN L,iPJRTANT DR. MARY JSNES AND JEJ.:NG A PLiASANT FHIEND -,'/IARY.

THERE AhE ALREADY TOO ~ANY IMP :RTANT PSOPL~ IN lHc WU~1D.~AT IT NEEDS

I3)AS YOU 8AN AGREE 10)13 FRIENDS. FRIENDS THAT CAN S~E THE B~AUTY IN
A COS WEB AKD AS YO~ SAID lHE SWAYING OF A TRE~. NATURE IE THE ONLY
Cm,:STISTtNT ~LJA,ITY THAT THERE IS. EVEN WEEDS TliY SO tIAhD TO SPll.EAD
e~~AUTY AI~D NA'IU?ES u\100DS ARE ONLY TO 'lRY TO DRA'vv AT1ENTI:)N TO THE FACT
'lHt:T WE mrfJ.AI... s A~:E REALLY VErY UNIAPORT. I TURN TO IT TO RiCOVEH MY

EQUILIBRITIGI,!;. SHE DOESN'T MIND THAT I CAN'T HiAR OR SEE _lI.ND 3H~ L~T3

MZ {NOW THERE IS BEAUTY IN MATURITY~HER GNARLED OLD TfiEES ARE MUCH MOR~

[~TERES~ING THM HEH SAPLINGS ._ HER FALL COLORI~G SAY "LJJK AT ME.
-
I'IvI NOT ARRAID IrO BE OLD NOR TO DIE". ,,ALL DEATH IN NA1URE BRn~GS NOEt: L
LIFE TO SOHE'l BING. THINK AB:JUT 'l'HAT. ONLY MAN KEEPS HUi'JIANS FRmJ~
RETUrNING TO lHE EARTH WITH STEEL CASKETS • NONE OF US ARE REALLY
..,
1~':lPB:R'l'ANT SO ViHY WOR:- Y j YES, AS LES SAYS YOU HAVE DONE YOUR SHAEE. I

HAV~N'T BUT THAT D:JESN''1 BOTHER !VJE. I'1'Ji NOT US1D TO B:i:ING L00KED UP '10.
CO>!iSIDER THE WELCOME BOUQUET, A FRIEJ\DS.tU? MOVE, J\N AT1'EA?T TO

SAY Tl~'lE v,TANT TO BE FRIENDS". YOU DON'T Hll,VE TO HEAR THAT' WITH YOUR
iJ
E~iliS. I A~-1 nons DEAF THAN YOU AND I HAVE ADD TO;vIY
~
SPEACHES "I'M
SORRY B UT I'[1'() 13VIOUS I DON'T HEAR". AND MOST PE:JPL02.. RESPOND ;(INDLY.
v
HAVE YOU CO:N3IDERED GSTTING SOAE 8FtIGHT COLORED PAINTS AND PAINT.
i/J.::u..IJ
.rusr THE WAY YOU FEEL, ZOOTo1, ZOOM gPLASH IT ON AS A CHILD W2U.D. IT CAN

GET A LOT OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM. DON'T PAINT FOR OTHERS PAIN FOR YOURSELF.
HOW ABOUT lHE WRITING GRJUP? DON'T WRITE TO PLEASE THE ALANTIC ~ON'IHLY

(136, pp.1-2
",mITE TO PLGASE YDURSELF. YOUR TEACHER MISSiS TH~ BOAT IF SHE
DOZSN'T REALIZE SHE HAS THE CttANCP: '1'0 j'{"AKE HER CLASS TliE2AUPliiT IC LvS'IcAD
OE Cl.LTiJE.AL,'r OR AS WELL AS CULTURAL, SL;CE I ASSUlliIE IT IS f';!US'l'LY FtETI(i{I;ES.
YOU S~~E '1 STILL CAl'~' '1' SPELL WHICH IS V&:RY ANNOYING AS WEL;L AS r GO
DEFLATING.

YOU NOTIC~, I A.'I NOT BEING CONVl:.NTIONAL WITH 'l'HE S'1.t,TIOl~ABY.

SOt£'II~5 I GJ OFF ON A FLING JUST TO ~:L>IUS~ }IYSELF. I CALL IT SELF-

EXPhES$INN. I JUST HOPE IT A)[/illS~S YOU. CZAJA, 'lHE PltOF. E,:,briITUS

FFOA ft,t;:fiJrtb~ IS HAVING A Si-:.~JV:ING OF HIS PAINTINGS NEXT SUNDAY. ViE

AR:S H;VI'IED AND I FEEL FLATTERED 'lHAT HE 'lnINKS v;E WILL UND:E.RS'l ANE HIS
HE IS "SELF TAUGHT" A:m HIS l,.:ORK IS J\X)'l CONVE'm-TIBNAL IT

(8 HIS. H~ HAS FORGOTTEN BE~KEL~Y B~ CHaISE.

I A:·i PICKING OUR FIl.ST S'If.?A\~GER.rIES. I NEBD ENOUGH l' OR J fu·l

BEl:A: ISE OUR CiioB..)n.D IS ABOUT BARE. WE 'IHINr< 'lHi:.hE WILL B}, NO ~iOFtE

P::,ilj~S HIS YEAH AND ~,'.'E DJN'T KJ,;O~'J ABOUT APPLES. MAL'Y OF OUR 'lREES

! ND S;;Rl! as itoERE FROZEN. - --NATURE TELLING US IT IS SHE WHO CONJ:>tOLES

vhiE'lHj::R WE WILL BRAG ABOUT OUR A·PPLE SAUCE 1HlS Y~AR OR NOT.

BOB DOESN'T HAVE 'I'H3 GARDEN IN YET ijECAUSi IT HAS BEEN COLD.

WE P~E DUE AT THE DZ~TIST SOON AS WE CAN GET AN APPOIN1~JiliNT.

I WILL THANK LES FOR THE PAPER. IT Sr.OlJILD LAST UN'iIL ViE GET

DO~K IN JUNE. 3aB'S HIP BOTHLRS HD1 AT TI~ES. I ~HINK WE BOTH

WOlNDER HOW LONG WE CAN STAY HERE WITH MY TREES AND WALK.

STOP AND ~'IATCH THE FISH AS YOU GO HOME FROM BREAiCFAS1 • MAYBE

'IHEY ARE FUN. I OFTEN 1JJ.!J,NT SOME ONE TO TALK TO" 'IHEN I REALIZE

ALL I W~ULD SAY WOULD SOUND LIXE SELF PITY. LIKE GRANDAA WASS I WANT

TO B~ TA{EN CARE OF. SHE HAD 22 CHImnEN , 17 ARE STILL, LIVING ONE DIED
~ ,

A IvIONTH AGO. SHE SAID SHE WANlTED TO BE TAKEN CARE OF ~SO 111EY PUT HER

IN A NURSING HOME, WHICH SHE PREFERED. tHE NURSJNG HOrrlE CLOSED SO NOW SHE

IS WITH MARIAN Y1Y HAIR D?ESSER (DA:JGHJ:ER IN LAW' ~UT THEY A'RE LOOXING

FOR AN01HER DESIRABLE HOME. 1HEY SAY ~O CHILD COULD CARE FOR HEn 10

PLEASE 'IHEi',I ALL AND SHE WAN'lS TO BE INDEPENDENT. StiR Iv;'R'i (136,
.:...J
p.2)
VP~T<;.'f'\lrl
 DEAR x. RY:
YES) YOU ARE RIGHT. NATURE IS MY RELIGION. I CAN GO ACRJSS
'rEi: CHE~K Arty SIT AND LCJK A'l A THEE AND GS'l QUIET Al~D CO:11FORT. I CAN
SE~ A TINY FLOWER HUGGING THEBEARTH AND GET AN EXHILARATION ~S IF IT
WZRE THERE JUST FOR ~ffi TO FIND. A ~llNISTER AT A SUNRISE EASTER SERVICE

IN YOSEkITE ONCE SAID "DON'T WOKSHIP GOD'S WORK WORSHIP HIl-'l" • KEN WOULD

AGRE~ • I FmND I~YSELF MORE AND l'-!ORE SAYING TO THE ORIOLE. THAT COlv.tES
T_ 9 OUR TREES II BLESS YOU FOR CO~ING FOR lwiE TO SEi". I CAN BE l~lYSELF WITr.
(,.<,--",,1.<:( YU'
NATURE, I DO NOT HAVE TO HEAR OR ANSwER I AM ACCEPTED. S\..~ k;tv~n

TH_AT CHAUTAUQUA INSPIRED :,IE TO GO BACK TO lViY START~D AR'I'ICAL

ON OUR CHAUTAUQUA. I STOPPED WHEN I COULDN'T SPELL KISKill~INIUS JUNCTION.
OR H01:JEVER IT ';/jAS SPELLED. I WAI~T TO WRITE ABOUT FATHER'S GRiEN HAT
Tf.l~T WAS TIED TO HIS VEST WITH A CORD SO IT WOULDN'T BLOW OFF O~ THE
BOA~. .':"ND H m'J I H.......AD vs N~..Al'E PINNED ON IV,E SO I COULD .R.1JN LOSE. I S8:El'/(

TO RSJ&'lB£R THE SAIJD BUX I PLAYZD IN.

-
I TOLD ~IT FAVOnITETH~REPHIST THAT YOU vlliRE IN A S~NIBR puACE.
SHE 8.':'.ID"IT TAKES A LONG TnJ]E TO GET ADUUSTED. IT ISN'T EASY." IT
TAKES GUTS. AND ONE DOESN'T ~~KE FRIENDS OVER NIGHT. THEY GROW. I
MISS ELIZ.t..BETH THm·iAS FROiwl SOLVANG •.: I HAVE NEVER HAD A FRIEND T!{AT I
TALK
COU1~t\TO SINCE. I l\1l1::33 HER .'lJiiE: THAN ANY ONE. SHE HAD "LIVED" AND WAS
mmEnSTJiri!DING. ShE ADVISED lI:1E TO fJIARRY BOB. "EVEN IF IT IS ONLY FOR A ft
YEAR." SHE SAID. WE ARE TAKING THE CHINESE AN1fD JAPANEJE FRIENDS TO
COULTERVILLE SUNDAY. I CAN TAKK TO THm~ MORE THAN ANY ESPECIALLY THE
JAPANESE. THEY ARE BOTH NURSES AND UNDERSTAND WHAT"PSYCHOsm"!ATIClI
MEANS. HOWZVER WE ARE NOT CLOSE FRIE~~DS AS WITH ELIZABbTH. THAT WAS
A SOUL TO SOUL FRIENDSHIP~ FOR BOTH OF US. WE SHARED OUR PROBL~iS.
fV'().-
GRAND~WASS WAS IN A PRIVATE HOFili. SEVEN PEOPLEJRUN BY F&~ILY.

LOUISE TORKIA WAS THERE ONCE AND I VISITED. WASS LIKED THE INDEOEND£NCE

(137, pp.1-2)
 FROM HER FA1'lILY fL)JT OF COURSE TEEY WEft:: VERY AT'.l.ENDENT. SHE DIDNOT
tltM.~
Lli<E j"\;·:OTHER ONE SHE WAS IN. .'lARIAN SAID OF IT TIlT STINKS".
I ENJOYED MY SUNDAY AT CZAJA'S. IT WAS FULL OF COLUR AND I Cillvill
HOYlE ArJD USED COLOR TOO AS ThE CARD S.DWS. HE PAINTS LIKE THAT.
YOU COULD TOO. SINCE HE IS A PROFESSOR HE ACCOUNTS FOR EVERY LINE
AND THE WORK IS "FAR OUT" BUT I LIKE seas OF IT BECAUSE I CAN PROJECT
l"IYSEL~ ~J.Y FEELLINGS INTO 1'1'. TO ME CONVENTI JMAL OBJECT PAINTINGS ARE
TECHNIQUE~ABSTRACT PAINTING IS FEELING FROM ~ITHIN. PAINT ABSTRACT.
,..j",,"{?
f I't.. I

l~ AGAIN A REAL ARTIST WOULDN'T AGREE.

YES, I MISS MY COLUMN EVERY DAY. I ALWAYS HAVE THINGS ~ I
"
WANT TO SAY. I USED TO JOT THE'~l DOWM. IT WAS MY EGO. YES I LOVED
AI~D STILL DO THE DiPORTANCE IT GAVE ~I1E. I A(V\ALWAYS PLEASED vlHEN IN
MERCED sm~E ONE SAYS "I RE~EMBER THAT NAME. DIDN'T YOU ETC". I
BEAM. THAT IS WHY I MISS MERCED. I WAS SOl~lE 0i~E '1HEhE AND lWI'.J SIRCE
BOB IS THE BIB SHOT HERb I REALIZE HO~ HE villST HAVE FELT DOWN THERE.
ONCE HE WAS ASKED IF HE WAS ~ffi, LOUISE HILL". I THINK HE WAS ~BIVA--

LENT ABOUT IT BUT THEN TOO HE HAD HIS lHING.

ENOUGH. vJE ARE DELIGHTED THAT YOU ARE WILLING
+I\~'\"o.rt'ht" r
AIm l'RYING TO MAKE YOUR NEvi LIFE GOOD. AS HELEN~A'tm ALL KNOW IT
WILL TAKE A LONG TII~E AND NOT BE EASY. RE~,IEI\mER LAST TD·lE YOU
WERE THERE YOU SAID ONE WOMAN WAS TRYING TO BE FRIENDLY BUT YOU
REJECTED HEf'A(8P'ROACHES BECAUSE YOU SAID "HOW DO' I ANOW I WANT HER FOR
A FRIEND"? NEITHER ~IT MIND NOR HAND ARE WORKING VERY WELL THIS
MORNING SO I HAD BETTER STOP. '1;ELL BARBARA I'M GLAD SHE SAID SHE

BUT ITA EASING UP.

GOOD MORNING ~UlliY:

IT DOESN'T ALWAYS PAY TO THINK BUT THE OTHER NORNING

WHILE HANGING UP MY LAUNDRY I SAW MYSELF IN THE i·lIRTtOW. LOOKING BACK AT
ME I SAltl A SIMILARITY WITH ADOLESCENTS. ARENT WE FACING A READ·.JUS1:·;iENT
JUST AS OUR yeUNG FRIENDS ARE? FRUSTRATION BECAUSE ~I'"E i~O LONGER Ul~D£h­

STAND THE CHANGING WORLD WHERE WE ARE NO LONGER IN CONTROL JUST AS THE
ADOLESCENT CAN'T UNDERSTAND MArEURITY ftN D THE RESeONSIBILITY IT GIVE HIM.
vm RESENT RESTRICTIONS ONCE PAR~NTAL NOW PHYSICAL. YET WE WANT AND
,
NEED S01·~ ONE TO G~IDE ,
US •AblONCE PARENT NOW CHILDREN OR FRIEND.
~~ LOSE SELF ESTEEM AS ~VE LOOK Ai OURSELVES AND SEE NOT ACNE
BUT iiRiiIJKLES~_ AND TELLSiisTELlS OF AGING. WE AVOID OTHER THAN OUR PEERS
LEST WE OFF~ND. WE TAKE SLEEPING PILLS BECAUSE w~ CAN'T STAND OUR
DiNER THOUGHTS YET WE vlONDER WHY ADOLESC:3NTS TAKE DOPE.
OK/SO WE ARE DIFFERENT BUT DIFFERENT FROL'i WHAT AND WHY SHOULD
rr BOTHER US? :j:JR ADi.lED YELttS OF EXPERIENCE OUR HAPPY lvi01vlENTS AS WELL
AS THOSE WE WISH TO FORGET SHOULD SERVE US IN SOblli WAY. THIS OUR
ADOLESC~NT DOES NOT HAVS TO HELP HIM.

SURE WE CAN'T SEE AND WE CAN'T HEAR B~T WE DON'T HELP BY

THHJKING ABUiUT IT ALL THE Tll:,E. ~'lE CAN STILL S_,~LL THE ROSE AND THE
PERFUME OF A FRIEND AND FEEL THE MOSS THAT SOFTENS THE ROCK AND THE
CPBESS OF A LOVED ONE. vlli CAN LAUGHT AND BEST OF ALL LAUGH AT OURSELVES.
AND iV~Y CALENDII,R SAYS "YOU GROW UP THE DAY YOU HAV 1i YOUR FIRST REAL
LAUGHT - __ AT Y~JRSELF."

AND NOW I'LL LAUGHT AT MY SELF AND THANK YOU FOR LISTENING

AND NOT INTERRUPTING ME IN ALL THIS INTROSPECTION. IF THERE IS A

SDoIILARITY OR Bl1LANCE AB.EN' T 1jJE LUCKY TO' BE ON 'IHE SCALE THAT HAS EXP~RIENCE .
.
SO GO OUT. FEEL THE ::UCE SOFT EVENakG BRESZE AND SLEEP WELL.
AND KNOW WE LOVE YOU WRINK~ES, WHIMS

WORRIES AND ALL.

(138 )
 08::L'I""" Gr-a,~)

-, L ,~ft ,::jo-u..,.- \e:.,-v\e,,... w..~,

1- cJw~s ~~ ~e>i.r\~ ~ 2j0oA.. I
~'Gt~ "ff('CtU~-te- .r: 6Fv'\e£6 ~v:t-
(f1A' ~l~.
j:s\A... ~ ~OVL ~\-\- ~~~ -n,
~ ~ D.- u\co~. \eA\e..-. 1:- \A~~0 /-
~ a.V'Ll ~ I UOXlcwr- ~\A- -to ~
~
- \
-to ~~~ 5~ ~ l~,
.
rT
(
t<..Pvv-t- ~ :::0 beL -\;<" e\1terc- ~ 0 , ~l

. L- ~l~ OVlV- ~\AA'IG:J ~:, ~ i'-tro:J

~ ~ ~~ ({)VIL<-l{f II 6.0- I It

~\\A~Y",NUjfL- Dk~d.~+ be- dep~::-b~) Dr

(
o"lj:.'J ) 0"" s.~ I~ic-. ,\ ~ea:l ~ ir~
~ t\\Je-- ~f -in J)k£\ LLR- ~~~ 'tk- ~
:~Y\- ~ ~ u.x:;<L~. WttVV-b .LA& '10 be-
(139, pp.1-4)
 \;L&-, 'So W2-- ~~-\ ~ ~ -to \I~"
0\)..(" ~\"jS - We.... WtvL- ~ }~ Q.~--l
o\~()'A).",- ~,

! -r. kVID0 ~VV"- ~ OIP~ u.l6<'k-~

fcl\~ o-~ j~T ~~ . ~ ~ll ~

i\{eM q~ ~V\e-. ~ib~"'- ~~
.\k 5o'VVIL Jj; 4.e»-'\, )-:5;;: W~ led- ft"eM...-
I s

I~ ~ \td.6,h ~~ di b~tJ~
, ) -+kvt. ~~ Q;l~ ~ ~ we-
I ~VIL- ~ - eo~~ e.ls,€-. wtj
~ro~~ ~ 0-- 8A-~~ ~~-\:-.
~ ~I~ uJI~ w~~ IS

~ - \"'\w\13 R-. ~u.,t~ oV\I1A.5>~

tf.aV"V\4~ ~ ~ WL- (9V\-. b?- wkk.
I.- ubvJcl 'c£-- s\.(."-fv~ ~+:' (:j0'""-
c1\Ct~-'\. ~ de.sroV\ckvvr S~~,
(l39,·p.2)
 fntA- ::e- WC\A.lJ-~ b~ 5\-1."rDet1 '1-t- (Y"'-
~ 10 ~ CV'~~ &>wUd<~
or ~~ ~~ ~"'(j~ M~~.
~~ I k~-w LJo ~1ACl~I
W wl@fL Cll.l\\;e..- by J0\t) So ~ owY\~
'* tkV\.l~~ IT- htk,
~v'\ VvCl\ ~oV\S~p "tJ.j)Tk iGctf~
u I .
ove: 'ooL ~R- I-~~4- C:J=-al~
~~ wcu> -to J~ ~~ ~
V\Agt~ ~~l et'~~-t \(~ J Qw:l-~
L-cl'l<LVlJt ~ ~rD ~ ~0l~ --tk5 I
CL

~~> I- 10"\-71+ 'f ~ lo-r at- F l'\ llr\

.~~ w.e.- ct~~,.~ -'twt:fJk ~wl­
ec5(~ ~ 1Mea,~ L ~ -m l~v-e-J
(
'1~. ~ -tn,er -'10 V\II-0~ ~ ~V\. L
.~ (lA «, \o~ -B-wve..\
(139, p.])
· ~ CW'~~ ~~ V\l\6S'<.Jl~
I~~ \YI.~kJ-- ~~ ~. ~ IS,
10\Af..- '-OOW\.~V\ ~ D t LIJ1e-- ~-{exesiaL h,
10~ I- -J1l sea. ~y rit- £- wt~Mo1
!~j' &.- l-w> «, ~V\. Jw~'ct~ ~
Iw~t'c.1L 6 h90 I-\M<d-~, Th k~
I
I~ qu) ~rt:l} ..\=lA.V\.) C<~ S>CA.CJ ClJl ""-+
~ sa~ -f1~.40~ 1:-'\V\ ledil~
I YvJ~n .rrr-. ('6 wetL vu"'b-ltJ
£U.

hve..- I \t\- '\-k V\.O w)

I. VIOt- 0""3 e1)0,5 ~~ \~
W\- ~ ljlM-) I- .J,sD e,\'\J o~ W-(~~
""",",JI
~j,p.,
k :L ~5 ~~ '* ~~ .::L- .
~PL ~~oV>~ we-tl ~~-ckLJo)JL
b~+~\~tJsZ5~ ~L
~ore-- ~~~ ~~ ::J~)IA !~ ~~ toV€.o)
~ \~--
 SAMARKAND'S CHAUTAUQUA
MAY 13 - 15~ 1986
I' THIS ..' CHAUTAUQUAS YOU REMEMBER FROM THE PAST -- COME AND REMINISCE ~
IN THE TENT THAT WILL BE SET UP IN THE POOL AREA. INVITE
i

YOUR FRIENDS TO JOIN YOU IN ATTENDING ALL THE INTERESTING,-

~,.~EEK... INFORMATIVE AND ENTERTAINING PROGRAMS THE CHAPLAIN &~D THE
ACTIVITY DEPARTMENT HAVE PLANNED FOR YOU DURING THIS CHAUTAUQUA
WEEK. IT WILL BE A HAPPY TIME FOR ALL OF US. THERE WILL BE
PROGR~S AND DISPLAYS AT BRANDEL HALL AND THE HEALTH CENTER
FOR YOU TO ATTEND ALSO.

CALENDAR OF EVENTS MAY 11 - 17, 1986

SUNDAY 5/11

10 : 45 AM WORSHIP SERVICE - CHAFLAIN DAN SEAGREN BRANDEL HALL

11:30-1:00 PM SPECIAL MOTHER'S DAY DINNER MAIN DINING ROOM
.Chicken Breast a 1a Kiev·· or
Beef Rib Eye Steak
4 : 30 PM VESPERS - B~ARA AND CHAPLAIN SEAGREN ASSEMBLY ROOM
MONDAY 5/12
9:45 AM CURRENT EVENTS ASSEMBLY ROOM
1:45 PM LA CUMBRE MALL TRIP LEAVE FROM OLD MAIN
PICKUP-AT BRINKS DELI AT 4:00 PM.
-TRANSPORTATION - $2.00
6: 00 "PM DR. DOUGLAS LARCHE, .AUTHOR/SINGER LIBRARY/LOUNGE
WILL SIl"G HIS SONGS AND PLAY GUITAR
7:30.PM TRANSPORTATION TO KIRI TE KANAWA CONCERT OLD MAIN
AT ARLINGTON THEATRE
TUESDAY 5/13

12 NOON MICHAEL STOKER, SUPERVISOR, 2ND DISTRICT DINING ROOM

WILL GIVE PROCLAMATION RE: NATIONAL
OLDER AMERICANS~ MONTH
2: 00 PM REV. ROBERT 'PRYOR - TALK ON MIDDLE EAST ASSEMBLY ROOM
4:00 PM COMMON ALLERGIC DISEASES - .ZEB DYER, P.A. COLONIAL ROOM
5:15-6:00 PM KIM ROBERTSGN, HARPIST, AND MAIN DINING ROOM
CHERYL CHAKO, HAMMERED DULCIMER

(140, pp.1-4)
 Activity Highlights, continued.
WEDNESDAY 5/14
9:45 AM RECOLLECTING AND "WRITING COLONIAL ROOM
10:00 AM "IS. THERE DEATH AFTER LIFE" ASSEMBLY ROOM
BY CHAPLAIN DAN SEAGREN
1-3 PM CRAFTS AND COLLECTIBLES OF OUR OWN BRANDEL HALL
RESIDENTS AND AIDES
3:00 nHEARIN~ LOSS IN ~nr.. E~D~kLY~ - COLON1AL ROOM
BY MARK TOSCHER, Ph.D.
7:00 PM MAY BIRTHDAY PARTY - ASSEMBLY ROOM
SINGER - BILL RYDER.
EVERYONE INVITED·--NOT ONLY MAY CELEBRANTS
THURSDAY ..... "5/15
10:00 AM "ANXIETY, FEAR AND STRESS"- NANCY MURDOCK COLONIAL ROOM
12: 30- ARTS AND CRAFTS EXHIBITS BY SANTAi;BARBARA ARTISF...NS AND
3:30 PM ARTISTS IN THE C}~T ROOM AND BY THE POOL
2-3:00 PM EXERCISE ROOMS OPRN - DEMONSTRATION ON. EXERCISE ROOM
TREADMILL AND EQUIPMENT
7: 00 PM CHUMASH SACREIl LAND - JOHN F'LYNN ASSEMBLY ROOM
ONE-HALF HOUR S!..IDES AND INFORM:?'.TION
Sl\TPRDAY 5/17
3 = :',0 PM SONG :RECITAL - KA'l'H'Y ARTHUR r DCS,) BRANDEL HALL
8:00 PH. TRANSPORTATION 'l'O s;,·~·n'A El~I'..'P.ARY SYMPHOHY f
1HH.I1'\f(;,'f,oN i1ib'It---rRF LlSAV€ FROH 01,.0> fMm

(140, p.2)
 SPECIAl~ EVE~:JTS

FATHER GANDER NURSERY RHYMES

DR. DOUGLJIS LARCHE(FATHER GANDER) IS A GUEST OF-SAMARKAND (THROUGH
MR. COMPTON) AND HE HAS REWRITTEN THE MOTHER GOOSE RHYMES BECAUSE THEY
WERE FULL OF AGGRESSION, SEXISM, RACISM AND IRRESPONSIBILITY. CHILDREN
LIVING IN SHOES WERE WHIPPED; WIVES KEPT IN PUMPKIN SHELLS; AND JACK
AND JILL COULDN'T GhT THE JOB DONE.

DR .. LARCHE HAS BEEN MAKING PERSONAL APPEARANCES ON NATIONAL TELEVISION

EXPLAINING HIS NEW BOOK. HE WILL BE SPEAKING TO THE MEMBERS OF THE
RECOLLECTING AND WRITING CLASS WHICH HAS BEEN CHANGED TO TUESDAY, MAY 29.
Hr WILL ALSO BE SINGING AND PLAYING HIS GUITAR IN THE LIBRARY/LOUNGE ON
MONDAY, MAY 12 AT 6:00 PM. COME AND HEAR THIS TALENTED MAN.

MAY 11 - 17 1986
1 BRANDEL HALL ACTIVITIES
MONDAY 12 11:00 AM SPELLING BEE LOBBY
3:00 PM TAPED MUSIC LOBBY
6:30 PM BINGO SOCIAL ROOM

TUESDAY 13 10:00 AM SLIDES OF THE HOLY LAND HERITAGE COURT

DINING/RECREATION ROOM
2:00 PM REV. ROBERT PRYOR -
~ALK ON THE-· l-lIDDLE· .EAST ASSEMBLY ROOM

WEDNESDAY 14 10:00 AM "IS THERE DEATH AFTER LIFE?" ASSEMBLY ROOM

CHAPLAIN SEAGREN
1-3 PM "CRAFTS AND COLI.ECTIBLES" EXHIBIT
BY RESIDENTS AND AIDES OF BRANDEL
HALL LOBBY
-3:00 PM "HEARING LOSS IN THE ELDERLY" COLONIAL ROOl
BY MARK TOSCHER, Ph.D.

THURSDAY 15 10:00 AM "ANXIET·::, FEAR AND STRESS" COLONIAL ROc

BY NANCY MURDOCK
12:30-3:30 PM ARTS AND CRAFTS BY SANTA
BARBARA. ARTISANS AND ARTISTS POOLSIDE

FRIDAY 16 11:00 AM MICKEY'S SfPSYCHIATRY LOBBY

6:30 PM WORLD OF INTEREST (WITH SLIDES) LOBBY
ADULT EDUCATION CLASS

SATURDAY 17 3:30 PM SONG RECITAL - KATHY ARTHUR LOBBY

------~~

(140, p.3)
 Spec ial Even ts, conti nued .

MAY 11 - 17, 1986 HEALTH CENTER HAPPENINGS

SUNDAY WORSHIP IN BRANDEL HALL WITH CHAPLAIN SEAGREN
MONDAY BINGO WITH MURIEL HARR IS, ROOM VISIT S BY GLADYS,
GARDENING WITH SY FORSYTH, SILV ER TONES WITH MICK
EY
TUF.~nJl.v
COFFEE TIME WITH HARRY SCHUERGER, CHAPEL WITH CHAU
HOLY LAND VISIT SLIDE S BY CHArL A.1ri SEAG.ttEI~ IN g:CRI TAUQUA
COURT DINING ROON, "SHELLY AND HER HIMILAYAN CAT, TAGE
READING TIME WITH ROSAMOND CROMPTON
h'EDNESDAY COFFEE TIME WITH DORIS ANDERSON, FLOWER FRIEN DS,
AND COLLECTIBLES IN BRANDEL HALL LOBBY FOR THE CRAFTS
CHAUTAUQUA
WEEK, RAGGEDY ANN AND FRIENDS FROM THE TOY BOX
THURSD~Y COFFEETI¥~ WITH HARRY HUGHES, BALLO
ON VOLLEYBALL
FRIDAY BINGO, EXERCISE ~-GARDENING, FILM CLAS SIC VIDEO
AND TREAT SHOW
.-
SATUR
DAY MENU FRIENDS VISIT 7 DAYS A WEEK
-------_._" _.-"- .," "----~---_::;;;;----,-
. .
. -_._,.._---_--._----------""""""""=
ABOUT OUR SHUTIN ~~IEN;S: ROBERT RUSSE~L, INGR ID WILSON AND EDITH LEVIN
ARE IN COTTAGEHUSP"~:T::V..-:- FLORENCE MARSF IS IN ST. FRAN
CIS HOSP ITAL .
I~: r::Ei lrHU AM:
v
EDIT :i HU!~'J.' lONE " OF OUR LOl'iG··'l'IME nBS TOEN
'I'S. AND PIAN~ ST
"j;'()R "tANY \f'E'~~S-;--'\'1\~ED fJ{~y &UND~lif, Ml'tY 4..
1+61.0 oN fo.-t.Of\lDA-'-j
HER ME110RI.2l..L·, ~2RVlr::s ~nLL BE
I MI''''( 1/1 AT e: PM IN I3~AN Dl:L HFlL!-.

(140, p.4)
 M.C. JONES

FRANK AND ERNEST

FLOOD

In a recent letter from my sister she enclosed a cartoon which

is ar.own above.

I was not in the Johnstown flood (1889?) but I can reminisce

about my parents' experiences.

The Connemaugh River meandered through Johnstown's narrow river

bed. Some miles to the Eas·t-was a summer resort -- mostly

used by well-to-do families from ;Pittsburg -- they had dammed

up the river to provide a lake (dam). Where the Connemaugh and

Susquehana River met, a stone bridge had been built.

It rained and rained and one day in April the river overflowed

the banks the dam ·broke and Johnstown was flooded. A

savage swirl uprooted buildings, many of which floated on the

tide.

(141, pp.1-3)
My mother's house was one of these -- my grandfather and grand-

mother Higson and their five childrenl Kate, Carrie, Agnes,

Elizabeth, and Alex got to the roof and were carried with the

tide. My grandfather, John, kept control of the sit~ation. He

shouted to his children and others who e~ntually joined them

on the roof when to stay put, when to jump to another spot of

presumed safety. Thus they reached the stone bridge where

other buildings had crashed and were burning. John Higson got

them all safely out of this debacle to the hillside. They

were s~feo My grandmother's reaction, as Carrie, my mother,

-
remembered, was "Here we are, homeless and penniless." "No,"

said Carrie, "Here is two cents in my pocket. I gave the milk-

man a dime this morning for a quart of milk and here is the

two cents change." They were "taken in" by a family on Westmont,

a hill area which escaped. Their return to normal living followed

in time.

So what about my father, Charles Cover's experience? Charles

and William Cover owned a livery business. I have on file a

(141, p.2)
picture of the "Cover Livery". They rented or sold carriages

and horses providing transportation in the days before taxis.

My father's home with his mother and sis~r was spared the flood

but the livery stable with all horses was lost. Charles was

in his late twenties. He volunteered to serve when the Red

Cross came in with supplies -- one of his customers was Carrie

Higson, a good looking woman Charles thought. He remembered

seeing and hearing this young woman as ":Buttercup" in the Gilbert

and Sullivan, Pinafore.? She had seen this young man, a well-

dressed "Beau Brummell" driving in a carriage around town.

Here was a nice jar of jelly to add to her needed food suply

a hand woven blanket, donated by someone in the Midwest went

to Carrie. I had it hung in my livingroom until Johnstown in

late years opened a flood museum. Then it went to the museum.

Carrie Higson and Charles Cover became husband and wife.. Their

son, John Cover, born in 1891, years later wrote the Johnstown

High School Song. It began:

"IN THE SHADOW OF THE MOUNTAIN

WITH THE STREAM MEANDERING BY
ALL SAFE AND SOUND ~
(141, p.3)
 M.e. JONES

MY HIGSON GRANDPARENTS

As I sprea d the colo rful, flow er desig ned quil t on my

bed I

thou ght of my grand moth er, Anna Eliz a Paxto n Higs on,
who had

quilt ed it. One way that livel y, spunk y littl e woman had expr essed

hers elf was throu gh the quil ts that she made . As she direc ted

the loca l DAR (Dau ghter s of the Amer ican Revo lutio n)
with thei r

quil ting , did she think of her ance stor, Paxto n, who
came to this

coun try with Lafa yette to help free the colo nies from
Brita in?

What was her satis facti on in show ing her Epis copa l
churc h group

how to quil t. What plea sure did it give her to teach her three

daug hters to quil t. Would 'she have eeen surp rised to see her

grea t gran ddau ghter quilt ing a pillo w cove r?

Whad did she, this smal l wcman, brig ht eyed , strai ght
hair neat ly

tucke d in a knot , feel when her husb and John Higs on,
home from

a dayv s work at the stee l mill s, lifte d her in his

arms and

threw her towa rds the ceili ng?

I know she enjoy ed slici ng her fresh ly baked bread

with her

(142, pp.1- 3)
grandchildren. She lived across from the high school and on

Fridays we stopped at Grandma's for tha delicious smelling and

tasting treat.

She was spunky? Yes, activ"ely so. The City Johnstown was putting

in electric wiring. A pole in front of her house would be just

fine.

Not to Anna Eliza. She told the workmen she wouldn't have it.

They persisted in digging. When they laid off for lunch she

put two boards across the hole, brought out a chair and sat there.

The pole did not go up in frQnt ·of her house~

How did she meet John Higson? He was a soldier during the Civil

War, stationed near Elmira, new York for a time. She was help-

ing soldiers. John Higson, as a boy, worked in the cotton mills

in London. As a young man he heard of the fight in the U.S.

to free slaves. He wanted to help, came to this country, joined

the Northern Army. He was wounded in the arm. Wuy wasn't it

healing, he asked himself. ~hen no one was watching, he left

(142, p.2)
 (3)

his bed, crawmed to a nearby stream and let the running water

clean the wound. Yes, John Higson, the tall burly Englishman

recovered. DidnOt he swing his small wife, Anna, toward the

ceiling when he came horne from work in the Cambria Steel Mill?

In later years, his granddaughter, then a child, remembers

this bearded, white haired old man using her shoulder as

support as the walked down the street together.

I know she enjoyed singing her grandson's song to Johnstown

High Schools

IN THE SHADOW OF THE MOUNTAIN

WITH THE STREAM MEANDERING BY
RISES .GLORIOUS JOHNSTOWN HIGH SCHOOL
OR SURROUNDING TOWERING HIGH

(142, p.3)
 RETIREMENT
When did I retire? 1960 or 1986?

My husband, Harold E. Jones and I retired from teaching- he

in Psychology, I in Education at U.C. Berkeley in 1960. He

would be 66 and I 64 that year. A successor was being sought

to replace Harold as Director of the InSitute of Human Develop-

ment which we had come to at itDs founding at the University

in 1927, he as Director of Research, I as Research Associate.

In 1960 Harold was working on a Gerontological Research

proposal with which he intended to continue the study of our

longitudinal samples at tha Institute. We didn't want

"retirement" parties. They seemed inappropiate.

Classes were over in May, retirement would be official Julyl~.

We planned to attend a Gerontological meeting in Europe in

June. We flew to Paris on June 5. On June 7, Harold died of

a heart attack in our hotel room in Paris.

I called the American Embassy which made arrangements to get

me home. My brother met the plane in New York and got me onto

(143, pp.1-8)
the plane for San Francisco. There I was met by both daughters

and their husbands and so I arrived in Berkeley - bereaved and

"retired". Later that same month, Nevitt Sanford visited me.

Re was planning to set up a Research Center in Stanford and

asked me to join his staff at his Institute for the Study of

Ruman Problems. I went down in September and rented an apart-

ment on the campus - Kingscot, but went home weekends to

Berkeley.

In addition to interviewing students I was able to make home

visits to the Oakland Growth Study members from the Longitudinal

Study at the Institute of Ruman Development in Berkeley. Those

who had moved further away_,- I contacted by mail with a question-

naire principallY about health and alcohol consumption. Nevitt

Sanford commented on my association at his Institute in these

words;" Two more or less retired professors, a woman and a man

joined the staff of the Institute for the Study of Ruman

Problems as Stanford soon after it's beginning and immediately

began to take a new lease on life. Their gaiety, eagerness

to learn and capacity to find excitement in a new venture

(14 3, p.2)
• I
(3)

contrasted . sha~ley with the grim, know-it-all coolness

of the striving academics who surrounded us. One of the

retired professors was Mary Cover Jones."

When my supporting grant from the National Institute of

Mental Health ran out I decided to return to the Berkeley

Institute as a volunteer.

(143, p.3)
 MARY C. JONES

RETIREMENT CONTINUED

Back in Berkeley -the Institute of Human Development - no

salary but an office and data available.

Recent material on drinking patterns was researched from

material collected at Stanford and related to earlier data on

the subject.

In brief, the conclusion indicated some personality, social

and cultural functions were related to the problem drinkers

when they were compared to non-problem drinkers and abstainers.

As adults the problem drinkers had less favorable family and

friendship ties than those to whom they were compared.

As adolescents they also had reported less favorable family

ties but their social life with peers was O.K •• They were usually

more hostile, more agressive, less self accepting. In

adolescence some individuals mentioned meeting with friends

in a park and drinking - unbeknownst to family. Said one of

(143, p.4)
 (2) M.e.JONES

these as an adult about social drinking; "That's 1'ool-around

drinking - I drink till I'm soused".

In 1964 a grant made it possible to bring back the study

members 1'or reassessment - physical exams, interviews, and

best 01' all, at the end a reunion like a class reunion of the

Oakland group. The newsletter 1'or the reunion contained news

of individual members, contributed by them personally, and a

foreword. To quote briefly.

GREETINGS! once again~ C1961H
We have reached another milestonel the Silver Anniversary
of your 1'inal high school days. We are greatly pleased
to have kept in touch with such a large majority of you.
Four more of you have married, and your families have kept
on grOWing, with nearly 40 new babies. And the grandchild
popUlation explosion has just begun 2) at last count,
which may already be out-01'-date~

You have continued to cover the globe in your jobs, your

homes, and your activities, but most of you have gravitated
back toward the West Coast.
Mary C. Jones hopes to see you at the reunion. Besides
her work at the Institute, she is a research associate at
Stani'ord.
This year's reunion will be the 1'irst without the genial
welcome of Harold E. Jones. We will meet in the attractive
new Child Study Center named in his honor. .,

(143, p.5)
 M.C.JONES

RETIREMENT CONTINUED

12£2. 1 0m back £ulltime at the Institute of Human Development,

Berkeley as a volunteer. What would I enjoy doing that would

contribute? One angle would be to continue research. There

was the data collected on the Oakland Study Group on alcohol

from the Institute for the Study of Human Problems at Stanford.

Earlier I had looked into behavior, social and personality

differences between early and late maturing boys. One

measure of maturity was bone growth. Nancy Bayley, an associate,

X-rayed their wrist bones when the study members came for

physical examinations as part of their regula~visits to the

Institute. Nancy and I collaborated on the first joint report

in 19tal "Physical Maturing Among Boys as Related to Behavior".

This was followed by several more reports by me including my

Presidential address for Development Psychology (Division 7)

of the American Psychological AssociatiCP1.. This was followed

by three joint articles by Paul Mussen and myself stressing

self concepts, motivation and interpersonal relations

I
of

early-and late-maturing boys and a seperate article on girls •

..
W
An article still in the making ~i~ ~ a joint report with

Harvey Peskin and myselfJ using both the Oakland Growth Study
(143, p.6)
 -2-

members and the Guidance Study Members. Peskin has previously

.s~
published ~ data from the Guidance Study on this subjp.ct

using a Psychoanalytic approach and referring to mine as the

learning theory. The outcome should be of interest theo~ically

as well as scientifically. I had originally written an article

•
"':t:il the same data on the Oakland Growth Study and shown it

to three staff members. The criticisms on statistics, study

member emphasis and history on keeping members interested in

the study, made me decide to turn it over to Peskin for a more~~

accurate scientific article.

In general my conclusions based on observational and interviewing

data have been that since girls, in general, mature about two

years earlier than boys, there will be different social and

personal effects. The early maturing girl and the late maturing

boy are somewhat out of step in adolescence. Early maturing

girls by high school age may be dating out of high school men.

Early maturing boys are in step with the average and late

maturing girls for interest and dates. Early maturing boys

tend to be athletic- on athletic teams. They also are elected

to school offices.

(143, p.7)
 -3-

~
In maturity the early maturing tended to be in business or
~
executive positions and financinally better off. More late

maturing boys are somewhat skeptical of the prevailing culture

but more insightfUl in adulthood. This conclusion meets the

dynamic (Freudian) theory very well.

(143, p.8)
 qntk
1n~ >~ 7

Jv1~ ~ P ~P7I/1!1IY~
.UJvVL'J ~ lY~ . PiA ?

r:;"d1~(j~ ~A~
ru:a W1--~~ If ~.

Handwritten
c. 1985 fr om memory by
. Mary Cover J ones

(144)
 .:::Jim'"'s. Smng
Wh~n ym~r T~~1ings. ins.id~
Ar~ t~rnin· ym~ ins.id~ m~t
And ym~ dmn'"'t ~~nt tm s.mi1~
Vm~'"'d r~th~r pm~t
Vm~ dmn'"'t ~~nt tm ta1k
Vm~·d rath~r s.hm~t
Vm~ c a n · t hm1d ym~r T~~1ings. in
v~t ym~ can'"'t 1~t th~m m~t
T h i n k mT m~
As. ymu mp~n up ym~r h~art
T h i n k mT m~
A1thm~gh w~·re nmt tmg~ther
We wi11 nev~r b e ap~rt
T h i n k mT me
Then t h i n k mT ym~

Wh~n ym~r ~adn~~~ h~rt~ ~m d~ep

And ymur e y e s . ~e11 up ~ith tear~
And ym~ Tee1 s.m ~11 a1mne
Ov~rwhe1med w i t h T~~rs.
And ymu wi~h ym~ d i d n ' " ' t
F~e1 1ike this.
A T t e r ~11 the~e ye~rs.
And i t ~~ems. 1 i k e i t · s . ~m h a r d
J~~t tm 1 e t ym~rs.e1T b e h~re
T h i n k mT m~
Hmw my 1mve i~ 1 i k e a n mcean
F1mwing tm ym~r s.hmr~
T h i n k mT m~
Hmw my h e a r t is. 1ike a T1mwer
Fmr ym~ tm B~hm1d
T h i n k mT me
Th~n t h i n k mT ym~

When ymu ~tart tm Tee1 a1ive

W i t h t h i s . pmwer t h a t ' " ' s . i n s . i d e
And ymu·r~ 1etti~g i t a11 b e ther~
Vm~ h a v e n m t h i n g tm h i d e
And ymu'"'ve 1a~ghed ~nd ymu'"'v~ s.hm~ted
Vm~'"'v~ s.ung a n d ymu·v~ c r i e d
And t h m u g h ym~r 1iT~ i~ i n its. evening
M~y t h e s.un w i t h ymu a b i d e
T h i n k mT me
As. yo~ s.mTten ym~r s . t a n c e
T h i n k mT me
As. y o u tak~ a n m t h e r c h a n c e
T h i n k OT m~
And hmw TU11y ~e c a n 1 i v e
We c~n m~ke 1 i T e a dance
T h i n k mT me
Hmw my 1mv~ i s . 1ik~ a n mce~n
F1mwing tm y o u r s . h o r e
T h i n k mT m~
How my he~rt i s . 1 i k e a T10wer
Fmr ymu tm behm1d
T h i n k mT m~
Then t h i n k mT ym~_

(145 )
 June 30th, 1986

Dear Mary,
Here is a copy of the revised chapter. You may not be interested
in the whole thing, but please do look at pages 1 and 2, and pages 40-
42, and the footnote.
I was amused at the suggestion someone made to you that you
should "act l t ke an anthopol ogist" in your new setti ng. Of course I
agree with your reaction that that might not be the best way to make
new friends. You must have experienced, as both Al and I have, that
when a new person hears you are a psychologist they are likely to off
on tangents about "reading their minds" (as if we could!!)
But it occured to me that you might do a very useful piece of
work by being what you are, a psychologist, and doi~g some intro-
spection about your new life.
Which reminds me, I have in mind getting several women to write
chapters for a book on women and retirement from paid work. There is
so much being written today about the "age gap" between Gloria 5teinam
et ale and today's younger working women. The former seem to think
that they invented something that no one else appreciates. A little
historical background to provide context might help. And evidence
seems to be accumulating that retirement is especially problematic for
women. So a book might be fun to do and find an audience. My idea is
to get contributions from women in the social sciences (because" they
were supposed to be "better" fi e1ds for women to go into -- though
they have not proved especially warm in their welcome) who are around
retirement (though they will obviously differ widely in chronological
age), some of whom married and had children, and some of whom did not.
Right now my ideas are vague. I need to sit down and get
something concrete on paper. But I would like to know if you would be
interested in doing a chapter. I think your contribution would be
terrific, especially because you were in the professional arena
earlier than the rest of those I have in mind, and you "did it all" --
career, marriage, children, etc. Do let me know that you will do it.
Al just recovered from, of all things, gout. He is taking a lot
of kidding, though medical opinion is that it has nothing to do with
eating and drinking" (and Al is most moderate with both). Apparently
it is one form of arthritis, and arthritis is very strong in Al1s
genetic background. The good thing about this form is that it may not
recur, and it is never chronic.

(146, pp.1-2)
 I am still working about 6 hours a day. Two book chapters are
due out momentarily, as are two journal articles. Others at various
stages of preparation and production. David asked me to be co-
director of a study for which he is seeking funding from the National
Institute on Aging. The first attempt was approved but with such a
low priority that it was most unlikely to be funded, so I urged him to
revise and resubmit. One of the comments on the "pink slip" was that
his case would be strengthened if I were involved more than a few days
of consulting, I like to work with David, and this is a rough time to
try to get into the research business. He is working for an
industrial environmental firm in S.F., and he likes the work, but he
does not want to give up research, and I don't think he should.
We have heard nothing from or about Deanna for ages. Do you have
news of her?
Thanks so much for making the Oakland Growth Study material
available for my book chapter. I agree with you that such information
is tremendously important, and it is a shame it has not been published
previously. Now that the panel is old enough to merit interest from
the gerontological research community, I think it will get some
attention.
Al joins me in sending all best wishes,

Reprinted with permission of

Frances M. Carp, Ph.D. (12/15/86)

(146, p.2)
 ER IK H. ER IKS ON

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(1 47 )
 Excerpts selected by Mary Cover Jones from
some of the notes sent to her by OGS membrs
commemorating her 90th birthday

It's time for me to tell you how much you have meant to me ••••

I will always have you in my prayers.

You have contributed so much to your field and to those of

us who were your subjects ••••

You should be happy to know what you have done for the
study group.

lim not sure if it would have happened at all, if it werenlt

for you ••••

I feel so privileged to have been a part of the study.

It is time for you to receive the love you have given to

others.

The worlds a nice place for me because you're in it.

I appreciate all the many nice things you have done for us
over the years.

You made a significant contribution to my life. I love you

for it.

(148)
Qve.-<" ·tk
CI\1e.-c a.Vttl ~V"0ud'·\. +k.. woo{is
To G-Vtt~~.~ ~lv~se- vue. 50

To y~t?c- \o~ c-+ \'ve.~ TOULka-l \oJ ~~ hov~

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•

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CV't\.,w l~~ 11> u)a.lk~~ To r<.U\~llll~ O.l/~ ctcw.'\ Uf
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at CO~'l~w~tL+f~..t.s \1I\.+eH~+-vl.t::t.l ttv0 feA.~v'l£.l-l )
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Y )
A~'\Ct vVLUS+ ~ o..l\
to \,U ~~t~r +ke WC..v \A.iI\
. )

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o..v..d LJ~t.o il\L,H-tU\~ oJ l 0+ +t~ a.,~ove. FPb. o..V\.CI
tW~h.

AVltl ~·r ~ v.AC.-Vv'\O~ Dr; a.. j~f,ui~+ket WL'\.d

Wt1~ love.cl 'oj a.1All lOJeA Vv\£lnjJ va.~~j . .peop ~
!.'7peu'P..l.l.) kL~ e~,--r jO\ A~ j ~~cl{lltlv"€"V\ •

Gocd-~e.. +n tt,...... \'1Cu...,e...; Ik. Sp' r'7t cst ho""'-e....

r-e,vV\tX'HI\. <> " lI\ ~ \\ 01.,1..\- ~l~ ;t S •

(149 )
(1 50 )
 EPt~. '1- IS- Ir~7
Behind the Scenes At Adult Education
By Harriet Scherer
The Continuing Education Division of Santa Barbara City College, known as Adult Education to members of the
community, lives on and on. The program was born in 1919, to provide classes in English and Citizenshipto
immigrants. As an children do, it grew... _..- _n . _ - - -- '.-.- . - . - -- -

Mrs. Alice F. Schott, the Guardian Angel of Adult Ed, gave it a home on Santa Barbara Street in 1946 and within
three years, courses were being given in Fine An, Music, Drama, Lip Reading, Spanish, French and Arts and Crafts.
Over the next three decades, it outgrew its downtown location. TIle old house was sold and the proceeds went for the
purchase of Garfield Elementary School in'1981, which was renamed The Alice F. Schon Continuing Education
Censer. The Center is located on the comer of Padre and Bath Streets.
Selmer "Sam" O. Wake served as director of Adult Ed for 25 years until his retirement in 1972. The5elmer O. Wake
Continuing Education Center at..~(X) N. Turnpike is dedicated tohim.......S amand his wife, Bernice, currently.participate
---inAdult Ed classes, including Woodcarving and the MindlSupennind program.-Martin Bobgan is thecurrentdirecte:r.

Five of the many wonderful people who work tirelessly to bring new concepts in learning to Santa Barbara residents
through the Adult Ed program are profiled b e l o w . ' " ". -

DrrTheodore
Fisch bacher
Vocational Data: A native of
Scotland, he served as a missionary in t
China. Taught at Westmont College
and retired in 1976.
Adult Ed Course:.Bible Literature
and History _ _ ~1"
Student Profile: Milam Wade, a
lawyer from Texas, is thinking of
retiring. He is 91 years old. He
collects original sheet music frdm 1973
to 1930. He does stretching exercises
and practices positive thinking. "I've'
no-time to settle down." Milam's met
his new friend, Alben Carter, • a young
'un of 88 years", in Dr. Fischbacher's
class. Alben is a jokester, but he isn't
kidding when he says, "Our teacher is
the most learned man I've ever met He
knows just about everything in the
Bible, It's never dull because he uses
musicas background for his lectures,
movies and slides." "~d' ~

.r,
 WJ?W&&

Ad ult Ed

Jam es Arm stro ng

Vocat ional Data: One of the
founding faculty members of the Santa
Barbar a An Institu te and served for
eight years as its vice preside nt. A
consis tent winner in compe titive art
exhibitions across the nation. Resident
artist for 25 years with Gallery de Silva
J:efor e it_gQ.sed.--.:-~--=-===-==--=~':'::'::":':~:'
Adult Ed Cours e: Critique (An).
Since 1975.
Class Focus : His critiqu es are
lessons in every phase of paintin g. Ann e -uLowenkopf'
Students learn from seeing the works of Vocat ional Data:
Autho
other studen ts and listeni ng to books and articles, Backgr of many
Armstrong's comments round in
_ psychology and solid knowledge of the
~n,.,
business of writing. '
Adult Ed Cour se:·' P, ,
Histoeies ..,
Stude nt Profil e: Dr. Mary Jones, 91
years old, published her first book in and Adele Rosen "
,International-.--':-u---,,-
1924: -~R:'cently" the psycho logy II- --- --- ---
departm ent at UCSB has asked her to -~­
lecture on her work in Life Span I !-------.--~
. -.. Develo pment al Psycho logy. "It's
interes ting," Dr. Jones says, "to hear
what Anne's students, many of whom
are in their 60s and 70s, have been
through, Anne-Is a wonderful teacher

7
and her knowle dge of psychology is a '
big help when correct ing our writing
and guiding us to do beuer, I enjoy the
.' .~'-:. -~--- ~:..
fact that
.
rm stilllea
- . - .- .,.,.-
ming. "

As SamW ake says, "Adult Ed is most important, People live longer

and these
..:...progr~~ offer qeme~o~~~'ill.-~as._~ ,§o, enj6yJ)
"" f:~ meet interes
people and.' k~ UPWl~ what's gom~ on m. the world by taki.ng advanta
, Adult Ed. For inform ation on upcom mg classe
ting
ge. of
s.call 687-0812 or
1
~ .
Alice F. Schott Center, 310 W. Padre, for a brochure. You'll be gladstop by the
.,~.
• -. ..,"C
.,.~.J..:-,,: -_
-
, .•", . . "..• ':';.' ••
"'". .:
you did! ;
'-
.
'-'~----:---" _.- -._-
"

RLTXA RJ CIUSP,RliE : :..', .,: "

" ~l~";
,. ~'
..~ -.,~ .,.. ~~: . -- ;"".: '; .
Ri KFJP RJ R' ZRB" OPRE
'-.-.
( .'.:~~

:' ' .'. -', RZLITJP LFPIU P

- . •. t·
.z::
bOT E OFcTHE _WE EK:, '1f'-:' 3{
---'--_.-. -'

air and f"mgemaus -contInue -to ~. -

, w for three days' after death, but' 7 "

hone calls taper off.i, ,:1:: .~..: :;: "._

, " ' , A - , Johnn y Carson

- -~---=---:---.-. - --:---'---,-- --_._-

 March 25, 1987

Mary Cove r Jone s

2665 Talla nt Road
\/Jest View 355
Santa Barb ara, Ca 93105
Dear Ms ~Jo:les,

Oil beha lf of the Deve reux /Ass 'ocia tionf or Reta

rded Citiz ens
Stee ring Com mitte e, I would like to thank you
f6r acce pting our
invi tatio n to be the Gues t of Hono r at this
year 's Conf erenc e on
Beha viora l Pers pect ives. The emph asis of this year 's conf eren ce
is "Tra nsiti onin g the Clie nt, Staf f, and Agen
cy". The conf eren ce
is sche duled for May 28 and 29, 1987 , at The
Deve reux Foun datio n,
Santa Barb ara Camp us. Ther e will be a welco ming addr ess on
Thur sday, May 28, 1987 at 8:45 a.m. , and we
woul d appr ecia te it
if you could be pres ent at this addr ess.

Enclo sed is a flier for your infor mati on.

\/Je are curr ently in
the proc ess of prep aring and fina lizin g a
broc hure for the
conf eren ce. Upon it's comp letio n, we will send you a copy
.
If you have any ques tions or comm ents rega rding
the conf eren ce,
pleas e feel free to cont act me at (805) 969-9
1D4.
Thank you again for acce pting our invi tatio
n to be this year 's
Gues t of Hono r. We are truly looki ng forw ard to your
part icipa tion at this year 's conf eren ce.

Sinc erely ,

T. J. Glah n. Ph.D .
Chai rpers on,
Deve reux/ ARC Conf erenc e

T J Gil h

Encl osure

(153, pp.1- 4)
 Symposium
on
Current Behavioral Perspectives
Thursday and Friday May 28 and 29/ 1987

the Client} Staff and Agency

Sponsored by

The Association for

Devereux Retarded Citizens
Santa BarbaraCouncil
Foundation

-. '"' ... ..:. ":,', "-. " ,.

The ABCls of Behavior Management
Saturday, May 30
Sponsored by the Devereux Foundation
Under a Grant from the California State Department of Education

(153, p.2)
 Michael J. Mahoney, Ph.D. received his Ph.D. from Stanford University and is now Pro-
fessor of Counseling Psychology at the University of California at Santa Barbara. Thq author of
twelve books and numerous scientific articles, Dr. Mahoney helped pioneer the" cognitive revolu-
tion" in psychology and is a continuing contributor to the growing interface between the cognitive
and clinical sciences. Dr. Mahoney has received several professional awards, including a Fulbright
Award in 1984, the Faculty Scholar Medal from Pennsylvania State University in 1982, and a 1985
Citation Classic from Science Citation Index in recognition of the influence of his 1974 book Cogni-
tion and Behavior Modification. ---
Dr. Mahoney has served on the Editorials Boards of twelve scientific journals and has
worked with the u.s. Olympic Committee since 1978 in the area of sport psychology. His research
interests include basic processes in psychology development, cognitive theories and therapies, psy-
chology of science, and health and sport psychology. His forthcoming book, Human Change Pro-
cesses: Notes on the Facilitation of Personal Development. attempts to integrate the research
literatures from several disciplines as they bear on the conceptualization and facilitation of psy-
chological change.

Raymond G. Romanczyk, Ph.D. is an Associate Professor and Chairman for the Depart-
ment of Psychology at The State University of New York at Binghamton. He received his degree at
The State University of New Jersey at Rutgers, Dr. Romanczyk is currently the Director of The
Children's Unit for Trearment and Evaluation and The Children's Unit for Learning Disabilities.
These are two seperate units which provide services for autistic, developmentally disabled. learning
disabled and hyperactive children. Dr. Romanczyk has written numerous scientific research articles
and chapters in the area of childhood disorders and treatment, and he is on the editorial board of
several journals. One of Dr. Romanczyk's areas of expertise is in the clinical use of computer
technology. A recent book published by Dr. Romanczyk is entitled Clinical Utilization of Mic-
rocomputer Technology.

Miley Cover Jones, Ph.D. is a professor Emeritus and Research Consultant for the
Institute of Human Development at U.e. Berkeley. Historians of therapies based on principles of
classical conditioning often begin with a description of the techniques used by Dr. Jones to treat
phobias. Dr. Jones conducted a reknown study in 1924 entitled"A Laboratory Study of Fear: The
Case of Peter". This study involved a 3-year old boy, Peter. who was afraid of rabbits. Rather than
attempting to determine the underlying cause of Peter's phobia. Dr. Jones relied on several pioneer-
ing behavioral techniques to suppress his fears. Her successful "method of direct conditioning" was
used with Peter. and is most similar to current classical conditioning treatments. Dr. Jones also used
several other behavioral treatments to eliminate phobias. A treatment she reports as being successful
was the "method of social imitation" (modeling). In addition. Dr. Jones found the "method of nega-
tive habituation" to be occasionally effective for eliminating phobic responses.

,,\ - . ' J. , ",

~@~[?~m[]~~[] [J)f1&~~D~@
~@[M][M]Duu[][]

T.J. Glahn. Chairperson. Devereux - California Scott McCann, Devereux - California

Bob Campagne. Devereux - California Rick Seward, ARC - Santa Barbara
lesley Hall. Devereux - California Charles Stevens Jr .• Devereux - California
Norm Kramer. Camarillo Developmental Center Thomas Wright, e.O.P.E. - Ventura

(153, p.3)
Plesse Post

. S~rnposi urn
on
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. t1sy 28 and 29, 1 987
at
The Devereux Foundation
and
Univer::;itIJ of California . Santa Barbara's Cliff House
Santa Barba ra, California
Keyn ote Spea kers:

Ray Romanczyk, Ph.D., Bingh amto n State Univ ersity of Ne . .·v

vork
'"The Diver se Appli catio ns for Comp uters in Multi ple Settin
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and Technique. Ideas to cons ider for Clien ts"
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Focu s Topi cs:
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Se1f -nom tort ng
Medi catio n Comp liane Train ing
Pere nt and Clien t Panel"
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Prev entet i vs and Diagnost i c Issue s
Prag matic s in Comm unica tion
Staff Tret ni ng
Gene ral i lot ion

(153, p.4)
Please call (805) 969- 9104 for more information 'regardi ng the sumpo
sium.
 ~ . -': -,

Her body failed faster than I had anticipated. On my return

Monday night, I heard that her Dr. didn"t expect her to live
through the day. She was in her bed in her room; Tom, the nurse
at Samarkand, and Hospice had made that possible. Her breathing
was labored, she spoke only a word or two at a time. But her mind
was alert, and the sweetness and honesty in her was as strong as
ever. She said to me, as she lay there dying at the age of 90, "I
am still Le ar n i nq about what is important in life." I sha.ll
al ways wonder whether, if I ha.d clsked WHAT that was, she WOLII d
have been able to put it into a word or two. I was too stunned
with admiration for her ever-~xploring spirit to think of that.

However, I did have a sense that her response, had she had the
energy to frame one, would have involved the spark that seemed so
readily to ignite between her and others. She was ever more
appreciative of the caring that was offered to her, and that she
was able to offer back emotionally even when physically drained.
She was charismatic; even the nurses loved her.

As her heart continued to fail, we reached one another by holding

hands. It was amazing to me that even when she couldn"t move her
head or hardly swallow, within hours of her death, she gripped
our hands with such strength.

Death came to her quietly, almost as an afterthought.

(154 )
 -
;~
~.,
...../
:

Sa nta Ba rba ra Ne ws -Pr ess , Fr ,'.

ida y, J.u ly 24, 19 87 ~-::

-.
OBITUARIES
Mary Jones; chil dren and six great-grandchil-
dren.
-',
't
{
former professor Services will be private.
Donations may be made to the
Mary Cover Jones, ~ a fon ner Jon Harold E. Jon es and Mary Cover
professor at the University of Cali es Fun d at the Inst itut e of
fornia at Berkeley, died \yednes-- Human Development at Berkeley.
McDermott-erockett
day at Samarkand
Community after a brieRet irement in charge of arrangemenMor ts.
tuary is
fillness.. . _
Mrs. Jones was
town, Pa., in 189ft born in J O h n s - ,
She received
bachelor's degree at Vassar Cola-
lege in 1919 and a .doctorate in
psychologyfrom Columbia Univer-
sity in 1926. While at Columbia she
i
married Harold E. Jones. who was
I
late r dire ctor of the Institute of I
Child Welfare at Berkeley.
She was a professor of develop
mental psychology in the Educa--
tion Department at Berkeley. She I
also was a rese arch associate for
the Institute of Human Develop
ment there, working on an Oak--
land growth study, which she re-
mained actively involved with un,
til her death.
She received the G. Stanley Hal
award for outstanding contribu-I
tions to research in human devel-
opment and the Distinguished Re-
sear ch Contributions award from
the Society for Research in Child
Development
She was published extensively
in the jour nal Child Development
and was pres iden t of the Division i
of Developmental Psychology of
the American Psychological Asso-
ciation in 1960.
She moved to Santa Barbara
from Berkeley in 1986.
Surviving are two daughters,
Lesley Alexander of Santa Barba-
ra and Bar bara Coates of Clare-
mont; a sister, Louise Hill of~ari­
posa: a brother, John H. Cover of
Yellow Springs. Ohio: six grand-

(15 5)
~
l
"

.'1
 THE TRIBUNE, Oalrland. Cel ilom
i«
.,
Rite for UC emeritus professor Mary Co
TrftHI,....,.".ndnew...me-.
... IIIyT lte
BER KE LEY -
serv ice will be held ASepmem oria l
t. 16 for
Ma ry Cov er Jon es, a dlst ln-
gulshed eme ritu s pro fess or and
. rese arch er at the Uni vers ity of
, ' Cal lfor nia in Ber kele y.
, Jon es was a pro fess or of edu-·
'" cati on who reti red In 1960 but
mos t rem emb ered as a rese arch
asso ciat e whose wor k was a rna-
",: jor imp etu s to the Oak lan
., Gro wth Stu dy at the Inst itut e of
.,. Hum an Dev elop men t (fon rier ly
Inst itut e of Child Welfare).
The Oak land Gro wth Stu
'.' has bee nJo llow lng the live s ofdy
,"/'
.
,--...
~
V1
Q"\
<;»
ver gro up of peo ple who wer e In
the ir pre -ad ole sce nce whe n She serv ed as pres iden t of the
Jones
Jon es beg an working with them Division on D~velopmental Psy - at 4 p.m. in the Gre at Hall of the "
In 1931- cho logy of the Am eric an Psy - Fac ulty Club on the Ue-,Be~kI~r';:'~
cbologlcal Association in ley c a m p u s . . :
She wor ked on the rese arc
. unti l just last yea r - a tota l ofh and In 1968 rece ived the 196 0" Har old Jon es was
dlvl- the cam pus Inst itut e dire ctor of>"
ston 's Sta nley Hal l Aw ard for from 1935 ',:i:~
55 yea rs. She cam e to know not
only the part icip ants . but thei r Distinguished Res earc h Contrl- to 1960. The Har old E.J one s ~'~lt;:
par ents , chll dren .igr and chll dren but lon s to dev elop men tal psy- ChUd Stu dy Center, foundedin~:;?
1927 as one of California's flrst
nur sery schools, was nam ed In,:r;~
Is and eve n grea t-gr and chil dren . chology.
A resi den t of Ber kele y from
1927 unt il 1986, Jon es died In Among her otb er bonors wer e. . his honor. It serv es the Univer-
d San ta Bar bar a on July 22, fol- awa rds from the Cal lfor nla . slty and com mun Ity as are -
lowing a brie f Illness. Sta te Psychological Association 'sea rch and dem ons trat ion Iaell-
Jon es also was acti ve In civi c and the Beh avio r Mo difi cati on Ity. .
Society. Among her oth er work, Mar y
affa irs In Ber kele y and Oakland . Cover Jon es carr ied out rese arch
Jon es Is surv ived by a sist er
and In nati ona l professional so- Louise Hill of Mariposa, CallI.; ~. on the ante ced ents and cor re-
a clet les. late s of pro blem drinking and
bro ther , Joh n H. Cover of Yellow ,
Spr ing s, Ohio; two dau ght ers mo st esp ecia lly, on the cor re··
Bar bar a Coa tes of Cla rem ont ' Iate s and consequences of ear ly'
Callf., and Lesley Ale xan der of' vers us late physical mat urin g In
adolescence. . . " ...,. ~;.
San ta Bar bar a; six gra ndc hil-
dre n; and six gre at-g ran dch ll- In Just rece nt yea rs, she WtlS·: :
dren . Involved In ana lysi s of data from
.. . the mos t rece nt wav e of data col- :'.:
Fun era l serv ices wer e held .
earl ier In San ta Bar bar a for the :' tectlon. .:, I';':':
A stri king rece nt finding of her.
. rese arch In the Oakland Gro wth -:.: '
imm edia te fam ily only, Frie nds
may rem emb er the Mary Cov '
Jon es and Har old E. Jon es Funet d
,StUdy was tha t men who. rna-
" ture d earl y ln adolescence wer
earn ing higher sala ries at age 62e ',~
at the Inst itut e of Hum an Devel- :.:
opm ent, UC -D erk ele y.. · ,.:
:
The mem oria l serv ice wlll be '. on the ave rag e thin those who :,.
. bad mat ure d. late;,. '.
.' , ,\,.',
.'
 THE DAILY CALIFORNIAN FRIDAY, AUGUST 21. 198Z 5
MafY-Jones

Famed psychologist dies

By Martin Li
Flags on the UC Berkeley campus
flew at half-ma st yesterd ay as the
campus mourne d the death of Profes-
sor Emeritu s Mary Cover Jones, who
was recognized for her work in devel-
opment al psychology.
At the time of her death at age 90,
Jones was still involved in the Oak-
land Growth Study, a research project
which began in 1931. .
The project is the longest continua l
developmental psychology study ever
conduct ed, and has followed a group
of youngsters from their adolesce nce
to their current middle age. . began to work on the Oakland study.
Jones' efforts have yielded many
conclusions about the origins of chil-
dren's fears, the impact of early and
late maturat ion and teenage problem
drinking . Her experim ents on chil-
dren's fears are among the mostwidely
quoted in psychological literature and
her other experim ents enjoyed com-
parable status.
Since she followed the children for
so many years, Jones was able to get to
know their parents and grandpa rents
as well as their children. Some of the
study's particip ants also hold five-
year reunion s or send in notes for a
newsletter.
Jones did not intend to commit her-
self to a life-lon g project when she
began the study in 1931.She moved to
Berkele y because her husband , psy-
chologi st Harold Jones, moved from
Columb ia University to accept a posi-
tion at UC Berkeley.
Jones, who also had done graduate
work in psychology at Columb ia, was
hired as a researc h associa te, and
The objective was to analyze normal
adolescence, particularly physical and
physiologicalmaturation. and peer rela-
tionship s among 200 sixth-gr aders
between 10 and 12 years of age.
The study will continu e despite
Jones' death, said Tom Debley,univer-
sity public informa tion officer.
SEEPAG E 6

6 FRIDAY, AUGUST 21.1987 THE DAILY CALIFORNIAN

Jones
FROM PAGE 5
Jones became a lecture r in the
School of Educati on in 1946 and in
1952 was appoint ed assistan t profes-
sor of educati on. In 1959, at age 63,
she was appoint ed full professor, .
A memori al service for Jones wiII
be held at 4 p.m. on Septemb er 15 in
the Great Hall of the Faculty Club on
the UC Berkeley campus .

(157)
 ,:. '~"4;'.l t-,~:'\"~·_-Y~~~~~}\
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'0'.

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.,.
~~; v~-:r~ f:if"; : i"S~ii j:;ari~~i;~~~iclt . Sot~r~,lg~pt~m'biiYf 1987
,I

fi¢ ., ga
."OBI'UARIE5~~~.;;'" - -;
'j

J ,

~~=~'.Mary Cover Jenes

~. r j. • -

',: " ,A memorial

- , . .

service for Mary

Cover Jones, professor emeritus at
the University of California who de-
voted 55 years to UC's celebrated
'
Oakland Growth Study, will be held
at 4 p.m. Wednesday in the Faculty
I
Club on the Berkeley campus ..
'>. ~lrs. Jon es.w ho died JUly 22 in
Santa Barbara at the age of 90, fol-
'lowed the lives of a group of Oak-.
'land and Ber kele y resi den ts from
-the lr teenage years into old age. She
• .eame to know not only the original
. participants but thei r parents, chil
-
dren, grandchildren and. in a few
cases, great-grandchildren. ,/
Although Mrs. Jones retired
from the UC Berkeley faculty in
1960. she con tinu ed her research
until ,~ast ye~r. 'f
. - .. She also studied the conse·
quences of early versus rote matur-
ing in 'adolescence and conducted
imp orta nt research 011 problem
drinking: t
, She rece lved many' honors, in-
, eluding the Stanley Hall Award for
-Distlngulshed Res earc h Contrib
u-
lion s 'by the American Psychologi-
'Cal ASsociation. . (':.~ ,,',
"~··"-i·_;:·",";" .1, . ~

-' :~' She' was a native of Johnston

-
.
I'~'t" ,~j'

Pa., and a graduate of Vassar Col-

, ~J!,!ge.·,She received her:'doctora
te
-<frorr{~~Cohimbia University.'
She
jUiove{J from Ber kele y to Santa Bar-
"

.··!·~t~Jr~2il~E;1~;~lb·
r mont and Lesley Alexander Qf San-
. fa Barbara: a sister. Lou
ise Hill of
. Mariposa: six. grandchildren and six
! grrat-grandchildren. '
~

-:
.' - _. J .'~

·.~~ir~,,· --'';'
.. ~.~ -";"''';'1'. I
t~ ~._~A-! .. j' . ~: .. \

(15 8 )
 Department of Psychology
Barbara Kellers chaired the sym-
posium "Risky Decision Making" at
the Twentieth Annual Mathematical
Psychology Meeting, August 6-8 at
Berkeley. Participants included:
R. Duncan Luce of Harvard, Michael
H. Birnbaum of California State at
Fullerton, James T. Townsend,
Jerome R. Busemeyer, and Mary Kay
Stevenson of Purdue, Elke U. Weber
of the University of Illinois at
Urbana-Champaign, and William M.
Goldstein of the University of
Chicago. The meeting is sponsored
by The Society for Mathematical
Psychology.
Richard S. Lazarus was invited to
Argentina to serve as a "window" on
stress and health in North America
and Europe. He lectured to the
general public, medical schools,
and to the local university psy-
chology department. He was made an
honorary member of the Argentine
Medical Association, and placed on
the academic council of the Guedik-
ian Foundation for the Study of
Stress and Health.
Geoffrey Keppel is again Dean of
the Social Sciences in the College
of Letters and Science, from August
1987 through July 1988, replacing
Gerald Mendelsohn.
In Memorium
Donald Y. MacKinnon, Professor
Emeritus and Research Psychologist
at UC-Berkeley, and an expert on
creativity, died in a Stockton hos-
pital on January 20th.. MacKinnon
was honored in 1967 and 1981 for
his contributions to personality
research. He established the
Institute of Personality Assessment
and Research (IPAR) and was its
director from 1949 until his re-
Fage 4 0 c t 0 b e r 1 9 78, p. 4 •
Universi~ of California
tirement in 1970. His 1978 book,
In Search of Human Effectiveness:
Identifying and Developing Creativ-
ity, is a standard text in the
field. A native of Maine, he re-
ceived his doctorate in psychology
in 1933 from Harvard, and taught at
Bryn Mawr College, Harvard, Rad-
cliffe, and the University of Maine
before his military service in
World War II. He joined the Office
of Strategic Services (OSS) and
directed the spy service's station
S,. whose purpose was to identify
quick-witted men who could be ef-
fective spies and resistance lead-
ers. At IPAR the emphasis was on
studying extremely creative people
and the nature of the creative pro-
cess. MacKinnon was Professor of
Psychology here from 1947 until his
retirement in 1974.
Mary Cover Jones, Professor of
Education at UC-Berkeley until her
retirement in 1960, and Research
Associate at the Institute of Human
Development (IHD) from 1927 until
1986, died in Santa Barbara on July
22nd, following a brief illness.
She had remained closely involved
with IHD's Oakland Growth Study
until her death. Jones served as
President of the Division on Devel-
opmental Psychology of the American
Psychological Association in 1960,
and in 1968 receveived the G. Stan-
ley Hall Award from that Division
for Distinguished Research Contri-
butions to Developmental psychol-
ogy. Among her other honors were
awards from the California State
Psychological Association and the
Behavior Modification Society.
While attending graduate school at
Columbia University, from which she
received her Ph.D. in 1926, she met
and married Harold E. Jones, later
Professor of Psychology and Direc-
tor of the Institute of Child Wel-
fare (now IHD) at UC-Berkeley.
The Psychologue, Vol.l, No.1.
(159 )
..,..,
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A
distinguished emeritus professor and
z researcher at the Cniversity who did
c::
o invaluable work in the field of de-
velopmental psychology for 55 years, Mary
«' Cover Jones died at the age of 91 on July 22
o in Santa Barbara.
She is most remembered as a research as-
sociate whose work was a major impetus to
the Oakland Growth Study at the Institute oi
Human Development (formerly the Institute
of Child Welfare). Her work has been of en-
during value in develpprnental psychology.
The Oakland Growth'Srudy has been follow-
ing the lives of a group of people who were
in their preadolescence when Jones began
working with them in 1931. By remaining ac-
tive in the project's research until last year.
she came to know not only the participants
but their parents. children. grandchildren.
and even great-grandchildren.
At the L'niversiry, she was a professor of
education until her retirement in 1961. lec-
turing on child development to all the
students in the School of Education: her
course was required. "I assisted her in this
endeavor: recalled Marjorie Honzik '30. :\1..-\.
'33, Ph.D. '36, "and I know how much the
very large classes in developmental psychol-
ogy appreciated her. There was never any-
thing stuffy about her lectures. which were
alive. stimulating, down-to-earth. and yet
scholarly:
Born in Johnstown. Pennsylvania, in 1896.
Mrs. Jones earned her undergraduate degree
at Vassar. She studied under the famed psy-
chologist John B. Watson at Columbia Uni-
versity. receiving her Ph.D. in psychology
there in 1926. She and her husband. Harold
E. Jones, came to Berkeley in 1927: Harold
Jones was invited here to help establish a
longitudinal study of adolescents. and he
made certain that there was a job in the
study for his wife. Mary Jones participated in
both planning and implementing the Oak-
land Growth Study the longest-running
longitudinal research project in human de-
velopment anywhere. Her experiments on
how children's fears develop and can be
eliminated are among the most widely
quoted in the psychological literature.
The Bancroft Library houses an informa-
tive oral history given by :\Iary Jones entitled
"Harold E. Jones and :\Iary C. Jones. Partners
in Longitudinal Studies." From it one gathers
a sense of the accomplishment enjoyed by
Mary Jones and her husband. who died in
1960, as they worked together in studying
the interrelationships of physical, intellec-
'rual, and social development through the
adolescent years. (160 )
 Mary Cover Jones (1 89 6- 19 87 )

Mary Cover Jones, a grea t pion eer

of developmental psy- In 1927, the J oneses mov ed to the
chology, died July 22, 1987, in San University of Cal-
ta Bar bara , California. ifornia, Berkeley, and its Inst itut e
She was alm ost 91, but she had bee of Chi ld Welfare. To-
n active professionally gether they init iate d the long itud
until a few mon ths before her dea th, inal stud ies for which
lect
seminars and, mos t significantly, working urin g and giving the Inst itut e is so well kno wn, stud
ies that still con tinu e,
on the Oak land mak ing them trul y life-span rese arch
Growth Study, a long itud inal stud . Ma ry played a cen-
y she and her hus ban d, tral role in the desi gn and con duc
Har old Ellis Jones, designed 55 year t of the studies and
s earlier. Thr oug hou t pub lish ed mor e than 100 arti cles
her long professional life, she was a bas ed on the longitu-
mod el of the scie ntis t- dina l data . Am ong thes e is a high
hum anis t-ed uca tor, ava nt gard e in ly regarded, innovative
her attit ude s and ac- series of studies on the beh avio ral
tions, generous in spir it and con duc corr elat es and long-
t, an active adv oca te term con sequ enc es of earl y and late
for hum ane and env iron men tal caus physical mat urin g.
es. Her rese arch fo- In the latte r years of her life, her rese
cused on prob lem s of social imp orta arch dea lt with de-
nce , and she always velopmental ante ced ents of drin king
clearly arti cula ted the social, app lied behavior, again using
imp lica tion s of her the longitudinal data in orig inal and
findings. The hum anis tic and the scie creative ways. Mary,
ntific were bala nce d mor e than any one , held the stud y
in her writing; statistical findings together by establishing
were enlivened by vig- cari ng rela tion ship s with the part
nettes from case studies. In her rese icip ants , who m she re-
arch, teaching, writing, gard ed as "pa rtne rs in the stud y
and com mun ity activities, her goal of hum an lives." She
was to con trib ute bec ame thei r beloved frie nd, con
knowledge that cou ld bett er the hum fida nte and counselor,
an con ditio n, and as well as a care ful and resp ecte d
she was rem arka bly successful in researcher.
achieving that aim . Mar y assu med som e teac hing duti
Mar y Cover was bor n Sep tem ber es in 1946, when
I, 1896, in Joh ns- she bec ame a lect urer in the Dep
town, Pennsylvania, and atte nde d pub artm ent of Psychology.
lic schools ther e. In 1952, at age 56, she wasapp oin
In 1915 she enro lled at Vassar Coll ted Assistant Professor
ege where, und er the of Edu cati on at Berkeley and bec
influence of Mar gare t Floy Wa shb ame a full professor in
urn, she bec ame inte r- 1959. Har old and Ma ry were note
ested in psychology and spe nt her d at the university for
sum mer vacations thei r stim ulat ing teac hing and for
working with poo r chil dren in sum thei r sup por t and en-
mer cam ps or settle- cou rage men t of you ng colleagues.
men t houses. Afte r grad uati on, she Together, they pro -
ente red Col umb ia duc ed the first edu cati ona l televisi
University for grad uate study. Two on cou rse on devel-
critical events occ urre d opm enta l psychology, and Ma ry part icip
duri ng her first two years there. One ated in a sim ilar
was bec omi ng ac- cou rse at the Uni vers ity of Min
qua inte d with Joh n B. Wat son whe nes ota. Unf ortu nate ly,
n his theo ry of be. Har old died in 1960, very sho rtly
haviorism was just bec omi ng extr afte r he and Ma ry re-
eme ly influential. The tired.
other was her marriage, in 1920, to
Har old Jones, a-fellow In recognition of her mon ume ntal
grad uate stud ent. con trib utio ns to
After hearing Watson lect ure abo ut the field, Ma ry Cover Jon es received
the development man y richly deserved
of infa nts' fears thro ugh con diti onin honors. In 1960, she was pres iden
g, Mar y won dere d t of the Division of De-
abo ut elim inat ing fears by con diti velopmental Psychology of the Am
onin g proc edu res. She eric an Psychological
discussed this idea with Watson, who Association. In 1968 she received
enc oura ged her to the G. Stan ley Hal l
test it. Her findings with the infa award of that division for outs tand
nt Peter, pub lish ed in ing con trib utio ns to
1924, caused a stir imm edia tely and developmental psychology. She was
are still amo ng the frequently called upo n
mos t widely cite d findings in the psyc to serve on, or con sult with , stat e
hological liter atur e. and com mun ity com -
Thus, her repu tatio n as a dev elop men mitt ees that dea lt with the welfare of
tal psychologist was chil dren and gave
established very earl y in her career, generously of her tim e and effort to
long befo re beh avio r man y wor thy causes.
ther apy bec ame pro min ent and Mar y was always arti cula te (and ofte
she bec ame kno wn as n poetic) abo ut how
"the mot her of beh avio r ther apy ," muc h her life had bee n enri che d
a pos itio n she enjo yed by her work and her
duri ng her last 20 years. relationships with the part icip ants
in the longitudinal
Being a wife and mot her of two stud ies, but she was too mod est to ack
dau ghte rs slowed nowledge that she
Mar y's acad emi c progress, but in played a critical role in sha ping and
1926 she received the guid ing the field of
PhD from Col umb ia. Her diss erta developmental psychology.
tion was ano ther pi-
oneering con trib utio n to the fiel
d-re sea rch on the de-
velopment of beh avio r patt erns , such Pau l Mu ssen
as visual pur suit ,
duri ng infancy. Dor othy Eich orn
University of California at Berkeley

(16 1)
818
Oct obe r 1988 • Am eric an Psycho
CCJl')'rich1 1983 by the American ~ logist
AssociJttion. Inc. OOO:w66X;U,1OO.75
Vol. 43. So. 10.81 8
 MARY COVER JONES AND I MEi~5 YEARS AGO WHEN BOTH OF US WERE MAKING MAJOR
CHANGES IN OUR LIVES. WE HAD JUST STARTED WORKING WITH NEVITT SANFORD AND JOE
KATZ AT STANFORD IN THE STUDENT DEVELOPMENT STUDY._ MARY, RECENTLY WIDOWED.. . JUST
RETIRED FROM UC BERKELEY,: I HAD JUST RESUMED WORK AFTER 15 YEARS AT HOME. THE
TIME WAS RIGHT FOR A NEW FRIENDSHIP .o\ND THE CHEMISTRY WAS GOOD. FOR THE NEXT 25
YEARS WE WERE ALWAYS AVAILABLE TO EACH OTHER AND THERE WAS NO SUBJECT, GREAT OR
SMALL THAT WE DIDN'T FEEL FREE TO SHARE.

SOME OF MY MEMORIES OF MARY WILL BE FAMILIAR TO MANY PEOPLE IN THIS ROOM

BECAUSE MARY WAS A FRIEND TO MANY PEOPLE. WE, HER FRIENDS, KNEW HER AS A
LOVING, GENTLE, GRACIOUS WOMAN ~O HAD STRONG CONVICTIONS, GREAT INTEGRITY
AND LOVE OF LEARNING.

~.~Y-~¥.AS ;UNPRETENTIOUS. AFTER A FEW MONTHS OF OUR FRIENDSHIP, SOMEONE

.TOLD ME OF MAR;Y'S FAME, AND WHEN ISAID, "MARY, I HEAR YOU'RE FAMOUS", HER
RESPONSE WAS," I HOPED YOU WOULDN'T FIND OUT." MARY GENUINELY FELT THAT SHE
'~AS AN ORDINARY PERSON FROM AN ORDINARY BACKGROUND, AND THIS IS WHY SO MANY
OF 'US FELT COMFORTABLE WITH HER. BUT SHE WAS WRONG. MARY'S EARLY LIFE WAS
RARE IN ITS QUOTE ORDINARINESS. HER PARENTS WERE LOVING PEOPLE WHO VALUED LEARNING.
NATURAL BEAUTY, AND. COMMUNITY RESPONSIBILITIES. MARY SHARED THESE VALUES
WITH HER BROTHER AND SISTER WHOM SHE LOV'ED DEARLY. MARY DESCRIBED JOHNSTO"'~J PA.
AS A COMMUNITY WHERE THE COVER FAMILY WAS KNOWN AND RESPECTED AND A GOOD PLACE
TO GROW UP IN. DURING HER LAST YEAR OF LIFE, MARY OFTEN SANG HER HIGH SCHOOL
- .-
'SONG, WRITTEN BY HER BROTHER, EXTOLLING THE NATURAL BEAUTIES OF JOHNSTOWN.

WHEN MARY WENT TO VASSAR, HER AUTONOMY AND INTEGRITY WERE EVIDENT. THE PRES-
1DENT OF VASSAR WANTED THE STUDENTS UNANIMOUSLY TO SEND PRESIDENT WILSON A WIRE
SUPPORTING ENTRY INTO WORLD WAR 1. ... BUT OUR FRIEND ,MARY ••••• AND I'M SURE
SHE DIDN'T WANT TO STAND OUT ••••• STOOD UP AND SAID SHE WAS AGAINST WAR ••• AND
THE WIRE WASN'T SENT.

THEN MARY WENT OFF TO COLUMBrfETERMINED TO BE A SCHOLAR EVEN IF THE

PRICE WAS OF BECOMING WHAT THEN WAS CALLED "AN OLD MAID'.' HAROLD JONES MET HER
AND SAW THAT THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN.

MOST OF HE~IFE, MARY WALKED FAST AND WORKED LONG HOURS. HER LIFE WAS
SO FULL OF CHALLENGING WORK AND PEOPLE SHE LOVED. THE PEOPLE SHE WORKED WITH,
BOTH COLLEAGUES AND MEMBERS OF THE STUD~WERE VERY IMPORTANT TO HER AND SHE WAS
INVOLVED IN THEIR LIVES. IN ADDITION, SHE ENJOYED MANY OTHER GOOD FRIENDS AND
ABOVE ALL, SHE ENTHUSIASTICALLY SPENT MUCH TIME WITH HER LARGE AND LOVING FAMILY.

(162, pp.1-2)
 2 -

MARY WAS ACTIVE,ALMOST TO THE END, READING, COMMUNICATING WITH OTHERS AND
PURSUING THE ROUTINES AND RITUALS OF EVERYDAY LIFE, WHICH SHE SEEMED TO WELCOME
AS A SUSTAINING FORCE. THE LAST YEARS WERE HARD FOR MARY. SHE PREVIOUSLY HAD
VIGOR AND GOOD HEALTH. THE LIMITATIONS IMPOSED BY PROBLEMS WITH HEARING, SEEING,
WALKING AND HEART WEAKNESS FRUSTRATED HER. SHE NEEDED HELP BUT DIDN'T LIKE TO
BE A BOTHER. SHE, WHO GAVE SO EASILY THAT GIVING TO OTHERS SEEMED AS A GIFT, HAD
TO LEARN TO ACCEPT COMFORTABLY 'rHE CARE AND CONCERN OF HER DAUGHTERS AND OTHERS
WHO WANTED TO TAKE CARE OF HER BECAUSE THEY LOVED HER.

MARY AND I OFTEN TALKED ABOUT THE DEVELOPMENTAL TASKS OF INDIVIDUALS,

CONCLUDING THAT THE LAST ONE WA~' TO DIE lmLr.. 'I""BEI:IEVE- , - THANKS TO HER OWN
PLANS AND TO HER PROTECTING AND UNDERSTANDING FAMILY AND PROFESSIONALS, MARY
GOT HER WISH. HER LAST FEW DAYS, IN HER OWN APARTMENT WITH HER OWN THINGS
AND ALWAYS WITH LOVING PEOPLE, WERE PEACEFUL., ANDMARy SPENT TIME REFLECTING.
MARY, WHO ALL HER LIFE WAS LEARNING••••• LEARNING FROM PEOPLE, LECTURES, LITERATURE
AND EVERY LIFE EXPERIENCE, COMMENTED SHORTLY BEFORE HER DEATH, "I'M STILL LEARN-
ING WHAT LIFE IS ALL ABOUT". NATURALLY, I ASKED MARY'S DAUGHTER ABOUT MARY'S
FINDING AND CLEARLY AND SIMPLY, IT WAS ONE WORD -:'_'.~CARING."

(162, p.2)