Mrs. Newell Tozzer (Part III)

(Continued from Part II…)

Were you interested in politics as much as you were interested in history?

Yes indeed. I couldn’t help but be interested in politics, being from my family with Daddy’s fame and newspaper knowledge. My grandfather, Alfred Colquitt Newell, had been a big newspaperman himself before he went into the insurance business. His grandfather was governor of Georgia—Alfred Holt Colquitt.

We would talk politics at home all the time. It was just inevitable.

Do you remember the first presidential election that you got to vote in for?

No, I don’t really, but I think at that time, Georgia had just become one of the first states if not the first to let eighteen year olds vote. Was the age twenty-one before? Yes, but then Georgia changed all that, which was significant.

Do you have a favorite president from over the years?

Probably Eisenhower. Daddy knew Eisenhower in the war. Really? Oh yes, he did. He went to his press conferences, so he met him and knew him. I was at Sweet Briar when Eisenhower was inaugurated, and Daddy got me tickets to the parade, which was wonderful. I could go up and had good tickets to sit up on the parade route to see Eisenhower’s inauguration, so I think I would say Eisenhower. I took a friend of mine from Sweet Briar, and we went up on the train early in the morning (probably at 5 or 6am) to spend the day in Washington. Daddy was already there. That was when Daddy was the president of the American Society of Newspaper Editors, so I think he had an even more special place to sit than we did. Still, he got us a good seat on the parade route. That’s exciting! Oh, it was thrilling!

Then, Eisenhower awarded my daddy the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which is the highest award a civilian can achieve in this country. Wow! Was there an event that happened that was the reason it was given to him? I think it was mostly for his war correspondence—his bravery, his war correspondent career, and being captured by the Germans. He wasn’t even in the military.

He could’ve been in the Army, and he hoped and tried to do that. However, there was some minor health reason that kept him away from that. You see, Clemson was a military school in those days. He was a Second Lieutenant when he graduated from Clemson. He kept that up (his Second Lieutenant title), but for some minor health reason, he couldn’t join the Army. That was when he persuaded his boss to send him to London as a war correspondent, which really made his fame.

What about your career after your year of teaching at Westminster?

I guess I taught there for two years; it was wonderful. Then, I went up to Cleveland in the summertime to be in my sister’s wedding, and I met Brent Tozzer and fell in love with him. I met him in Cleveland; he was from Cleveland. He was much older than I—sixteen or seventeen years older depending on what time of year it was. He had been in World War II and had a wonderful record in World War II.

He was very handsome and was working for Kenyon College, the Episcopal school. I had always said that I wanted to marry someone and live in a college town. I met him through friends of Mary Lane and John’s on a blind date and fell in love with him. That was between the two years of teaching at Westminster.

We decided to get married, and after I taught just half of the second year, I went to Dr. Presley and told him. He said, “Well, I think you need to just go on, and I ‘ll get someone else to fill in the rest of the year for you.” That was a hard thing to do… So I got married and moved to Ohio!

Do you remember your wedding day and what it was like? Was it a really happy day?

Oh, it was a beautiful, happy day. Unusual for Cleveland, the weather turned good. It was April, and it can be snowy in April in Cleveland, but the weather turned pretty. I woke up that morning, and all of a sudden it was going to be a beautiful day, which was incredible.

We were having a small wedding at home, which Mary Lane had had, too. Mine was a little bit bigger than Mary Lane’s, but still. (We laugh…) There were certain people I wanted to be sure were invited, like my mother’s UDC, the United Daughters of the Confederate. She loved them.

At any rate, I woke up and was having coffee out in the backyard. We had a beautiful backyard that went down into a lake, and there was a summerhouse—we called it a gazebo (a pretty little octagonal summerhouse out by the lake). I said, “The weather is going to be pretty, and I’m going to be married out here,” so we changed the plans from having the wedding in the house to out in this beautiful, little summerhouse. It was a lovely, outdoor wedding; that was fun.

I had already asked my best friend in Cleveland’s two little girls to be flower girls and to carry my train. (I had a long train.) When it was so pretty, I asked the next-door neighbors’ little girls to be flower girls, too—we were good friends with them. She had two little girls about the same age; they were about three and five years old. I just had Mary Lane for my matron-of-honor, and Billy was Brent’s best man. Then, we had these four little flower girls carrying two little bouquets and two of them carrying my train. Wow, that must have meant the world to them.

I worked at the newspaper two different times here at the Atlanta Journal, which is now the Atlanta Journal Constitution. The first time, I worked for Sue Mobley’s, Aunt Sue Brown Stern, who was the society editor. I worked there just about eight months for her maybe. I loved her; I was very close to her, but I got very tired of just writing up weddings and parties. That got boring, so I quit. Then, I went back to Cleveland.

The second time, I had gotten my Master’s at Georgia State University. That was where I finally got my Master’s. I got a job then, which didn’t last long, but it was exciting, working for historic preservation section of the state of Georgia. Then, I got mixed up in some political mess, so the job didn’t last but six months. But… you have to remember one thing. This is a true saying: “When one door closes, another opens.”

This lady who was a friend of my parents and who had a big job at the AJC—she and I were having lunch just when I found out that the state of Georgia job was not going to last. She said, “Newell, I have a place for you in the promotion department of the AJC,” so I went there and worked for her for at least two years. That was an exciting job but demanding. I had to be downtown at 7:30 in the morning to do things. If there were a hole in the newspaper, I had to put a promotion ad in. I quit that job in the promotion department after probably two years, but it was a wonderful experience.

Then, another door opened, and I met Frances Porcher, whom I had never known before. She was an Atlanta girl who was four or five years older than I. She was the top editor at the Centers for Disease Control. Francis introduced me around at the CDC, and I hooked up with this wonderful lady who is still my friend, Priscilla Holeman. Priscilla hired me as a writer/editor, and I worked for her for probably two years.

Then, I got what they called a “temporary job.” In other words, I didn’t have full insurance benefits. Then, I got a job with another part of the CDC called “NIOSH,” which was initials for the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health. They were just moving the headquarters to CDC in Atlanta from Washington. I got a job there, and that job was fabulous. I was able to go places, do things. When the director of NIOSH found out that I spoke fluent French, he created a position for me as director of international visitors. Since NIOSH’s headquarters was in Atlanta, we had a lot of international visitors.

I was with CDC (most of that time was with NIOSH) for almost twenty years. Wow. What that after Mom and Brent were in college? During their high school and college years. That ended up being a very wonderful career for me. NIOSH and I just meshed like this (shows me with her hands). I put on big meetings in Cincinnati, Ohio where NIOSH had about one hundred people working. It was a time when I just commuted between Atlanta and Cincinnati. My boss sent me to a World Health Organization meeting in Geneva. Wow.

So learning to speak French has been a great help in my life and career, and it all began with Mademoiselle Groleau at the Washington Seminary. (We laugh…) She was fabulous. I did my junior year in France from Sweet Briar College, too.

Was your junior year in France the first time that you went out of the country?

Yes, we went to Canada a lot because Ann Lane and Bob lived close to Canada. Was that when you were growing up? Yes, they lived in Aroostook County, Maine. They bottled Coca-Cola up there. We went up there in the summer three or four times. Mother took Mary Lane and me up there on the train when we were little. Boston was halfway; it’s a long way.

After you went to France during your junior year in college, is that when you started to love traveling?

Yes, during my junior year. Sue was there, too. We were there together in Paris. We didn’t live together, but we traveled together on all our vacations. Then, Sue Brown came over right after we got out of school. I went to Spain with Sue and Sue Brown, and I had about two or three weeks there. We went on the train from Paris to Spain. I had that much travel in the summer. I had lots of travel during the year. Then, I came back home, and we traveled on a boat, which was wonderful (on a ship in those days to Europe). We didn’t fly. How long did that take? Five or six days. It was wonderful being it gave you that wonderful feeling of being in transit. I love being on the ocean in transit. You really knew that you were between things, then.

The summer between my junior and senior years was when we moved to Cleveland. Daddy had gone up there before, but Mother had commuted between Atlanta and Cleveland. Daddy had promised me that we wouldn’t break up our home in Atlanta. He said, “We will not break up the home in Atlanta until you get home and can be a part of it.” So I was a part of packing up the house in Atlanta. That was sad, of course, but Nana could always make it fun. She said, “We ought to have a dance the last night.” (Laughs…) Did you? We didn’t, but I had a date, I remember, and we kind of danced around.

We had one car, then. We never had two cars until we were in Cleveland. Mother was, of course, so wiped out and tired from the packing of the huge, old house we had here. She was organizing all of that. Mama went on the train to Cleveland to rest because it was a long train journey. Daddy put Mary Lane, Billy, and me in the car to drive up. At the last minute, Corinne Murray (who was our helper then)—she did a little of everything and was a young black woman. At the last minute, Mother had invited her to come with us, and she said no, that she didn’t want to come. Still, at the last minute, she came and jumped in the car and moved to Cleveland with us. She had a big, nice room in our basement and stayed right there with us.

At any rate, in Cleveland when I started work up there after Mother had had me take the Junior League provisional course, I was office manager at that brokerage firm (my first job in Cleveland).

What do you think your favorite, biggest accomplishment that you’re most proud of is?

Raising my children to be good people. That’s my biggest and best accomplishment—no question about it. It may be my hardest one! (Laughs…) Oh, I bet!

What was the hardest thing about raising children?

I think the hardest thing was being very much on my own. I was a single mother, so I think that was the hardest part. You know, your grandfather (my husband) died when they were very young, really. That was awfully hard on them and on me because he had been a big help to me. That was sad and hard.

Was the divorce really hard, too?

Yes, it was, but I felt like I had to do it. I didn’t want to do it, but I felt like I had to do it because he had lost three or four jobs. He had just gone into a decline, so to speak. He just went downstairs into his office and sort of stayed down there. It was just impossible for me to be married to someone who was not out in the world. I had never been involved with a man who wasn’t working. If I had been in a different time or era, maybe I would have just realized that I needed to be the worker bee, but I grew up in a different time when a man went to work and had a job. I was not used to that, so yes, it was hard. It took a long time. Yes, I can definitely understand that, though. I know it was hard on your mom and uncle, but I had to do it… kind of to save myself.

Mom always talks about your dog Honey. What’s your favorite pet that you’ve had?

I was always the dog person in our family even growing up. We had a wonderful West Highland Terrior that somebody gave us named Burly—Burly of Bryans’ Burlesque. (Chuckles…) He was a white Scottie, but mostly he was grey. We loved Burly, and I loved Burly so much.

One time Burly got lost. Mother put an ad in the paper for him. This was during the war, and she said, “One dirty West Highland Terrier in the vicinity of Peachtree Road in Lindbergh.” Mother got a telephone call from this man at Christ the King, a Roman Catholic Church up the street. He said (speaking in a French accent), “Mrs. Bryan, this is Monsieur Morleigh at Christ the King. I think we have your dog. Come see.” So Mother went up there, and Burly ran into her arms. Aww… Burly was all-white! They had bathed him! (Laughs…) The priest said to my mother, “Mrs. Bryan, your dog likes to go for a ride in the car.” This was when gas was rationed, and we couldn’t go for a ride much. Mother said, “Yes, so do I, but I just have an A-card, so I don’t get to do it very much.” Then, Mother offered the award that she was going to give, and he said, “Oh no, I will just give it to the church,” so Burly came home with us.

Burly was one of my favorites. Honey was who I brought your mother and Brent up with. Honey was a darling dog. She died at the foot of my bed. I came home from work at the newspaper one day and found her asleep at the foot of my bed. Fortunately, Brent was home, and he and Billy buried her in the backyard. Yeah, I think she was my mom’s favorite dog. Oh, I’m sure she was. She was so sweet… just a real honey and pretty—a cocker spaniel.

Then, I started having cats. Like ChaCha! (Laughs…) I decided that that was how your mother and Brent could learn the facts of life! Oh, in having kittens… I was going to let the cat have kittens. Fortunately, my mother happened to be here from Clemson and was staying with me. One time, the cat we had (I think it was Snowflake) had a bunch of kittens, and she refused to feed them. She would not nurse them.

It was just awful. I didn’t have any money to speak of, so I couldn’t just constantly take her to the vet. Still, I took her to the vet one time, and he said, “This is what we call ‘feline inertia.’” I said, “You mean that she’s just lazy?!” He said, “Yes, she’s just lazy.” So he told me that the Humane Society would spay her for very little money. He said that I had to get some goats’ milk and drip goats’ milk with a dropper into those teeny little kittens’ mouths. Aw… For several nights every four to five hours, Mama and I would drop goats’ milk into those baby, baby, baby kittens’ mouths. We kept most of them alive.

From then on, I had cats. I tried with one puppy dog, and I even built a run for the dog in the backyard. It dug out from under the run and escaped, so that’s when I decided that I just couldn’t do dogs any longer. I just wasn’t home during the day to train them. I had to give up on dogs and concentrate on kitty cats.

What are some of your philosophical beliefs about life?

Whenever one door closes, another one opens. That’s a big belief. There are hard times, but you get through them. Work is a good thing, and family is the most important thing. Family is the number one, most important thing in life aside from a belief in God. Believe in God and then family. They pull you through the toughest times. Yes.

What problems in the world are you most concerned about, and what do you think needs to be done about them?

Oh, Mamie! (Laughs…) Is that too deep, too??? (We laugh…) As far as the worst situations in the world, I think we still have the same problems that we’ve had all along.

What advice do you have for me and younger generations about living their lives and making choices?

Keep your options open. Study hard, play hard, love hard. Make lots of friends, and keep friends. The longer you keep them, the longer you’ll value them. Just like in Girl Scouts: “Make new friends, but keep the old.” Exactly, we put that on Mama’s tombstone. That’s a good motto.

Keep thinking, and what matters most is family.

Mrs. Newell Tozzer (Part II)

(Continued from Part I…)

When I was born, it was very funny. The story [of how I got my name] was told to me all my life. In the hospital, my grandfather turned to my father and said, “Wright, what’s her name?” Daddy said, “Her name is Ellen Newell, of course.” My grandfather, who was a wonderful boss, said, “She’ll be named Ellen, but she’s going to be called Newell. I’m going to get a namesake!” (His last name was Newell.)

I didn’t like it part of the time growing up because it was so different and unusual, but I came to like it. That’s great!

Did your parents tell you anything about the day you were born and what it was like?

Mother was in labor a long time, I heard that, but she loved her doctor. I was brought home because it was Christmastime. In those days, mothers stayed in the hospital a long time—about two weeks—but it was Christmas, so I was brought home to 1 Clifton Road, which was my grandparents’ wonderful home. We had Christmas there. Did your mother get home in time for Christmas? Yes, she got home just in time for Christmas. Oh good! You were her Christmas present! Yes!

The story goes that her bedroom was upstairs at Nana and Pop’s house and that my uncle Bob Whatley and my father carried her downstairs for Christmas with the family.

What were your parents’ full names?

My mama’s full name was Ellen Hillyer Newell. Newell was her maiden name, and Hillyer was her mother’s maiden name. Her mother’s father had been mayor of Atlanta—George Hillyer. He was a very prominent lawyer and mayor of Atlanta.

My father’s name was William Wright Bryan. He was named for his grandfather, General William A. Wright—his mother’s stepfather, actually, but she adored her stepfather. She loved her stepfather so much that she named her only son, my father, for her stepfather, and [my father] was always called Wright.

General Wright is buried out at Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta. Is it in the section where Uncle Big Bill is buried? No, it’s in the Confederate section. He was a big Confederate general, and he was controller general of the state of Georgia for fifty years. There’s a beautiful inscription on his grave, which his wife, Granny Wright, got this famous newspaperman to write. It says, “Southern gentleman, controller general of the state of Georgia for 50 years.” He lost a leg in the war, yet he still was able to get around and manage. This is my great-grandfather, the one that my daddy was named for.

Do you remember when Aunt Mary Lane was born?

Not really, but she’s exactly three years younger than I am. She was born in December of ’36. We were staying out at Clifton Road; I’ve been told that many times, so I’ve heard about it. We were very close to our next-door neighbors, and when Mama went into labor, they couldn’t find Daddy. It turned out he had gone to a movie. What?! Yes, he had to be downtown very early everyday to get out the afternoon newspaper. He had to be downtown by 6:30 or 7:00 am, so he was finished by 2:30 or 3:00 in the afternoon. He had just taken off to see a movie that he wanted to see. They couldn’t find him when Mama went into labor with Mary Lane, so I was left with the next-door neighbors, who were our good, good friends: the Oberdoffers.

We had help, but it happened to be the day that was the helps’ day off. Wow, of course that would happen. Of course. So I was always close to the Oberdoffers; they had a daughter named Gail who was my age, so I was just sent over to them.

What else of your childhood do you remember? I guess a lot of it was during WWII.

Well, I was getting older by then. I think the most important thing to know was how close we were to our grandparents: the Alfred Colquitt Newells. They played a big part in our bringing-up. We went to their home all the time and had so much fun there.

We actually lived there. I was born and came home after Clifton Road to 15^th Street to the wonderful house that my father and his sister had inherited from Granny Wright. I went to kindergarten at Spring Street School right there.

Then, we moved out to Druid Hills to Nana and Pop’s house and actually lived there. That was very helpful to them because they had bought [the house at] Sea Island and were spending six months of the year at Sea Island. It was helpful for them to have us in their house in Druid Hills. After Spring Street Kindergarten, which is near 15^th Street, I went to first and second grades at Druid Hills School, which was near Clifton Road. My best friend at Druid Hills School was Mary Burke, and she married Foy Hood. She still is a good friend. Isn’t that wonderful! Wow! Brent [my son] was in school with her daughter, so it continues.

Then, Mother decided she wanted us to move to this side of town so that we could go to school with all her friends’ children. We were still at Clifton Road when Billy was born. He was born in September 1940. Still, we moved over here when I started the third grade in 1941. [My parents] bought the house on Peachtree Road three doors up from Lindbergh Drive, so I walked to E. Rivers School and was in the room with lots of their friends’ children. I loved E. Rivers School, and I went there from third grade through seventh grade. That took us through World War II, and that was when Daddy made the speech for my graduation.

I was talking to one other person who said that she had a big graduation in seventh grade, too. Why was that?

It was a tradition to have a graduation from seventh grade. The girls all wore white dresses, and the boys wore white pants and white shirts. Everybody was in all white, and it was down on the field, which was decorated with nice things.

After E. Rivers, was there a high school, or did you go to junior high?

No, I went straight to Washington Seminary, which was where my mother and my grandmother had gone to school. It’s now a part of Westminster, but it was separate in my years. I went there starting in the eighth grade and went through high school there. I loved it.

Do you remember what you did for fun during high school? Did you have lots of spare time, or were you really busy?

Both. We had some teachers who were very, very hard and strict. Thank goodness they were! For instance, Mademoiselle Groleau was our French teacher from Paris, and she was very strict. We had to really work for her. I also had wonderful history teachers who got more and more interested in history, which was fabulous.

I was editor of the Annual. I was also the editor of the little annual we had at E. Rivers. Bryans were always the editors! You were following in your dad’s footsteps! Exactly. We also had spend-the-night parties, and I’m still friends with people who were in our class at Washington Seminary. For instance, you know Aunt Sue Mobley. She and I were classmates at the Seminary, and she and I went on to college together. Atlanta was so much smaller then that it wasn’t as dangerous, and a friend and I were laughing about how when we had spend-the-night parties at her house, one time we got out in the middle of the night and had a Conga line across Peachtree Road! That sounds like a lot of fun, but it’s crazy to think of now!

Was there a special place where all the teenagers hung out, like a fun place to go for a Coca-Cola?

There was Rusty’s Drive-in. It was on Peachtree; it exists no more, of course. It was a place where anybody that had a car could go. [Having a car] was a very special thing. I had one rich friend who had a car. We would go in the car after school in high school to Rusty’s, which was sort of a competitor to The Varsity. It was very much like The Varsity in that you drove in, and there was a carhop who came and took your order. It was closer to our homes than The Varsity.

Did you learn to drive when you were in high school?

When I was sixteen, I did. My daddy taught me. He was a calm teacher, so he was assigned to teach me to drive. (Laughs…) I can remember where I got my driver’s license. It was out on Confederate Avenue, which is near downtown. Was it scary to drive in Atlanta back then? It’s gotten much more scary over the years. I was scared, but it’s much more scary now.

I remember I had a little accident, and my sister was in the car. She always reminds me when she comes to town that that’s where we had that accident. It’s on Lindbergh Drive. Atlanta was so much smaller in those days that we used to go out Lindbergh Drive, and it was sort of like the country. We could chop down a Christmas tree! We didn’t have to buy one; Mama could just go down there with an axe.

You know, Mary Lane and I, both being born in December—I was the 15^th and she the 10^th—always had a combined birthday party until we were grown-up almost. Mama would have about forty to fifty children to our house on Peachtree Road. Wow! She decorated for Christmas and would have two cakes (one at one end of the table and one at the other in the dining room) ice cream, games, and all that until I was in high school.

Do you remember when you went off to Sweet Briar College?

Yes, I do. We took the train from Brookwood Station. That was the nice thing about being able to go by train: Sweet Briar was on the main line of the Southern Railway. We could get off either at Monroe, VA, which is just about three to four miles from Sweet Briar, or if there were enough girls, which there frequently were, they would stop at the little Sweet Briar Station, which is now on the Sweet Briar campus instead of down by the tracks. It’s wonderful to go by train.

My grandmother’s famous saying that she told to both her daughters was “I want you to marry somebody and stay in Atlanta, but if you have to move away from Atlanta, you must live on the main line of the Southern Railway, so I can get to see you.” That main line goes up through Monroe, VA and Sweet Briar, VA up to Washington DC and then New York. It goes from New York down this way to New Orleans.

Did you ever get to go to New Orleans by train?

Yes, but when I lived in New Orleans, I didn’t go by train; I went by car. I shared a car with my brother Billy. When I went to Tulane, which was a few years after I got out of Sweet Briar, we drove down from Cleveland in this wonderful, old car that was Billy’s and mine. I went to drop him off at Vanderbilt in Nashville, TN where he was going to school. He graduated from Vanderbilt and loved it always.

How did you know that you wanted to go to Tulane after Sweet Briar?

Well, I had done a lot of things after Sweet Briar. I worked as a secretary-receptionist-office manager sort of job at a wonderful brokerage firm in Cleveland for a couple of years. Did you live with your parents there? Yes. Mama had made me promise that I wouldn’t get a job until after I took the Junior League provisional course, which was very interesting and good for me because it taught me about Cleveland.

We had just moved to Cleveland between my junior and senior years of college, so when I graduated from college, I hadn’t spent much time there and didn’t know anything about it. It was a good idea [to take the provisional course] that Mother insisted on because I met people my own age, and I’m still friends with some of them. One of them is my close friend still.

I did the Junior League provisional course, and then, at Christmastime, I met this nice gentleman at a party. He asked me what I was doing, and I said I was getting ready to “pound the pavements” and look for a job. He called me up right after that and offered me this wonderful job as secretary-receptionist-office manager at this small, fine brokerage firm. The office was at Shaker Square, which was near our house, so that was nice. I could bop home for lunch. I stayed there for a while (two years nearly).

Then, a very, very famous historian Bell Irvin Wiley, who was the most famous historian of the Civil War, came to Cleveland to make a speech. He stayed with us, and he was so sweet and kind that he sat up with me one night after his speech until about 2am and said, “Newell, if you will just get back into what you like, teaching will be for you.”

I guess by that time, I had taught for one year in the city of Cleveland Public Schools. Somebody asked my daddy if I was going to teach the next year, and he said, “Over my dead body.” I had a really hard year. It was a strange system; they promoted the half-year. Half the children were in the second grade and half in the third. I didn’t know how to teach children how to read. I had to stay up every night learning the lessons and doing the lesson plans. It was a very tough year.

Bell Wiley came to Cleveland to speak and said, “If you’ll just get back to what you love to teach, teaching will indeed be right for you.” So he helped me get a scholarship to Tulane. I got a tuition scholarship for my Master’s degree in history. He was good friends with the head of the history department at Tulane, so he wrote letters for me and got me this wonderful scholarship. It was a tuition-free scholarship, so I had to pay my own way, like living expenses and all that, but I had my tuition. I had a wonderful year in New Orleans.

Then, I was starting to go for my PhD. I didn’t actually get my Master’s at Tulane; I just did all the work. I got sort of antsy and decided I needed to teach, so I called up Dr. Presley at Westminster in Atlanta. He called me back shortly after that and offered me a job teaching at Westminster. So I drove up to Atlanta in this car that Billy and I shared. I got an apartment and taught there, and I loved that. It was a wonderful experience and very happy. I worked hard—very hard. Did you still teach elementary school? No, I taught high school; that was a good thing. I found that much more “up my alley.”

One of the most exciting, wonderful parts of that was that I taught with the lady who had taught me at Washington Seminary and who had been an inspiration as a history teacher to me. She gave me a lot of leeway to do whatever, and of course, I had just been at Tulane doing graduate work, so I had a lot of knowledge. It was wonderful and fun! I’m still friends with some of the girls who were seniors that year.

One time, a group of about six or eight of the students in that class had an extra period that semester. I proposed to my friend, the head of the history department, to teach them a course in Georgia history, so we had a whole semester in Georgia history, which was fascinating.

Westminster was very different then. It was separated into the Boys’ School and the Girls’ School. It was not coeducational then, and I taught at the Girls’ School.

What do you think about the difference between separating the genders and having a coeducational system? Which is better?

Well, I went to a girls’ school always—at high school and college. I think it gave me a great deal of strength to go to an all-girls school where I didn’t have any competition from boys. To gain more confidence? Yes, to gain more confidence and to be stronger. I believe in separate, not coeducation, especially for girls. I think it benefits girls.

This is a funny question. Do you remember any crazy dates or funny dates that you went on in high school or college or even afterward?

(Laughs…) Yes indeed, yes indeed. I remember lots of them, and you know, you had to go out with who asked you. Girls didn’t ask boys for dates in my day. My mama preached to me that you had to go out with the first one who asked you. You couldn’t wait around for the better option… so yes, there were some crazy ones. Were some of the boys crazy dancers? Oh yes, so much so. I would get the giggles, and I would try to hide my giggles because I didn’t want to embarrass them.

In high school, we had sororities and fraternities. It was just a sort of Atlanta tradition. It probably wasn’t good, but that’s the way it was. There was Rush. There was a place called “Dead Man’s Curve,” and we would meet there. Anyway, there were sorority dances, and we had “no breaks.” Have you ever heard of a “no break?” That’s when a boy cannot break in. Most of the time a boy could break in, and the popular girls would have many, many, many breaks. At a “no break,” that would be a dance where you would just have one boy to dance with.

If I hunted, I could still probably find some of my dance programs. They were small, probably about this size (shows me with her hands). You could hang a pretty thing on your wrist, and you got boys to sign up for which dances they wanted to have with you. That’s wonderful; it sounds like so much fun! It was. The wonderful thing was that you had a big sister in the sorority. My big sister, who was one of the daughters of a friend of my parents of course, got me dates, which was a huge help. She kind of looked after me. All the big sisters kind of looked after the younger ones. She would help me fill out my dance card so that I wasn’t a “wallflower.”

The style when I was in high school was to wear a hoop skirt. Later on, your mother wore my hoop skirts a lot. Ms. Buffington was the sewing lady who made the dresses to go over the hoop skirts. I think she probably made the hoop skirts, too. It was just about three steel hoops sewn into a petticoat. Then, she made these dresses to go over that. Did you get to pick out the pattern and the fabric? Yes. She mostly just drew a picture of what she could do for us. We went and bought the material, and she made it into a dress. I was very lucky because my mother’s best friend Rebecca (we called her Aunt Rebecca) gave me a dress one year. [Dresses] were expensive. I think that’s the one your mother wore some when she was in high school herself, so they served a purpose. I bet they were beautiful dresses. They were really pretty. The dances were at the Biltmore Hotel.

I guess the most important thing for you to know is that my father was one of the most important men in Atlanta, Georgia and actually in the state of Georgia. He was urged to run for governor of Georgia. Mother told me that, but he did not want to do that. He was so important, though, to the state and so famous. He went around making speeches to different groups all over the state all the time. I was very fortunate in that he took me with him some of the time. Sometimes Mother couldn’t go with him, so he took me with him. That was fun.

I came from a family that was very much involved in politics and the state. That was one of the most important things about my background.

 

(To be continued in Part III…)

Mrs. Newell Tozzer (Part I)

(Born 1933)

Parents: Ellen Hillyer Newell & William Wright Bryan

Siblings: Mary Lane & Billy

Husband: Brent Tozzer

Children: Ellen & Brent

 

Life During WWII

We lived on Peachtree Road, three houses north of Lindbergh Drive. That was neat because gas was rationed during WWII. Everything was rationed, and Mom was very proud of having an A-card, which was the least amount of gas anybody could get. She said she only had enough gas to go once a week to the grocery store and to take us to the doctor if we got sick.

Everything was rationed—not just gas, but sugar, coffee, tea, clothes, all sorts of things. The thing that Mama had the hardest time with was that shoes were rationed. She had three growing children whose shoe sizes were constantly growing and changing, so what she did was very fortunate. She swapped her mother (my grandmamma)—“Nana” swapped her shoe coupons for Mama’s sugar coupons because Nana just had to make a cake every week. She was a wonderful cake maker and had to make a cake. We loved it. So [my grandmother] didn’t need the shoes, and my mama desperately needed them, so she got her mama’s shoe coupons. But the gas coupons were really precious.

How did you adapt with all the different food that you had to eat, like the food without your sugar?

We somehow just managed, but the gas was really hard.

My father was a war correspondent during WWII. He persuaded his boss, the owner of the paper, to send him to England. He became very famous as a war correspondent and got there in time to interview Georgia boys in England, and all of this was the buildup for D-Day, the invasion of Europe.

Daddy was away, and Mama said that the thing that saved her sanity was that she had a ladies’ club, and they were called the “War Widows Poker Club.” The War Widows Poker Club met on Saturday nights and played poker. I don’t think they betted much money, but she said that it saved her sanity. They had some grown-up conversations together as friends, and they kept close to each other.

Mother said that when she would drive home from the War Widows Poker Club, (because the gas was so scarce) she couldn’t decide whether to leave the car in the front yard where she was afraid somebody would siphon off the gas. People stole gas by siphoning it off. To park, she would have to go way down in the backyard where the garage was, but there, she was afraid somebody might get her. (Laughs…) Because of that, she had a great debate with herself: where to leave her car!

But see, it was wonderful—she didn’t have to take us to school much because we could walk the two blocks down the street to E. Rivers School, and we could walk the two and a half blocks up the street to the Baptist church where we went to Sunday school and church.

Where was this house again? Was it the one that [your parents] brought you home from the hospital to [when you were a baby]?

No, that’s in Ansley Park right near the Driving Club. [The house that I’m talking about] is on Peachtree Road in Buckhead, and it’s now part of that pretty condominium development called “The Gates.” It was just three houses up from Lindbergh Drive near Peachtree Battle.

At that time, there was no shopping center there—none. There was this funny fruit stand. It was more than a fruit stand. It was covered, and it was called “Fred’s Fruit Emporium.” It was on Peachtree Road. There was just nothing down in the valley of what is the Peachtree Battle Shopping Center now. That didn’t come until the 1950’s.

At any rate, my fourth grade teacher, like all of us, liked a Coca-Cola. She liked to have a Coca-Cola every morning. Mrs. Wilson was her name, and she was at E. Rivers. She would send me across the street to Fred’s Fruit Emporium to get her a Coca-Cola in the morning. My mother did not like that a bit; she did not approve of that because one—it took me away from class, and two—I had to cross the street, and three—people thought Fred’s Fruit Emporium was a iniquity or something. It really wasn’t, but it was dark and dingy. You didn’t even go with a buddy? No, I just went by myself. Mama did not like that.

My mama was a strong lady, and she marched herself in to see the principal, Ms. Osterhout. When my sister Mary Lane, who was three years behind me, came along, my mama said, “I do not want Mary Lane to have Ms. Wilson. I want her to have another fourth grade teacher.”

Well, Ms. Wilson heard about it and was very offended. She walked up to call on Mama in our home, and she accused Mama. She came to your house? Oh yes, she did. She said, “Why did you request that Mary Lane have another teacher?” Poor Mama… She had to cope with talking to Ms. Wilson, but it was funny.

Do you remember what your favorite subject was in elementary school or high school?

Always history. History was always my favorite subject.

Did you talk about the war (WWII) when you were in class?

Yes, we did, and our daddy came and made the graduation speech in seventh grade when we had a formal graduation from seventh grade. The girls wore white dresses, and the boys wore white shirts and white pants. It was a nice formal graduation, and Daddy made the speech. He talked about prison camp. It’s really funny: he always told the story about how he was liberated by the Russians. His prison camp was in Poland, and the Russians came into Poland and liberated his prison camp.

He had been shot in the leg, and they had not done anything about his wound in the prison hospital because they didn’t know how much tetanus he had had. Without knowing how much tetanus this was, they were afraid to operate on him, so the bullet was just still in there. He told the story about when he was taken into Russia. The Russians actually took him into Odessa. At any rate, these Russian nuns bathed him. He told that story. (Laughs…) You know how old you are in the seventh grade; that was a little embarrassing for me. Still, he loved to tell the story of the Russian nuns giving him a bath.

The nuns also gave him the china—it was beautiful china—that he ate his first meal on when he was liberated. Mama always kept that china in her cabinet where she kept pretty china in the living room. So were the Russians nicer than the Germans? I think so, but he said those nuns really scrubbed him! (We laugh…) That’s crazy! It was funny to hear about that.

Did your father like to travel?

He always liked to travel, but at any rate, he got on a ship to Marseille from Odessa. Fortunately, when he got to Marseille, France, who should he see but a friend of his from Atlanta! Everybody in Atlanta knew that Daddy had been captured and was a prisoner of war, and everybody was worried about him. This old friend came up to Daddy and said, “Wright, what can I do for you?” Daddy said, “Well, in pre-war times, you were a banker, and I need some money. Can you lend me some money?” He was able to lend Daddy money that got my father to Paris! Well, actually maybe he got on an Army plane or something, but he loaned Daddy some money.

Then, when Daddy got to Paris, fortunately, another good friend was head of the first general hospital in Paris. He got Daddy in that hospital and saw to the fact that he had the best doctors. He was operated on. This was after the war? Yes. It was right after he was liberated from prison camp before he got home. This man got good medical attention for Daddy’s leg with the bullet in it and got the bullet taken out. [My father] stayed for probably three or four months in the Army hospital in Paris.

We have a picture of him in bed in hospital with a famous movie star and skater, Sonja Henie. You may never have heard of her, but she was very famous when I was your age. She came to visit men in the hospital, and there was a picture of Daddy and this General who got him in the hospital, and Sonja Henie by his bed. That picture just went all over everywhere.

Did he ever talk about what France or Paris was like while it was under control by the Germans or even afterward?

No, he wasn’t there, then. Well, he was captured in France. Was he captured right after he recorded about D-Day? Shortly afterwards, maybe six weeks afterwards. His D-Day report was so famous. It went all over every network. Every network had Wright Bryan’s D-Day report on it, and it made him very, very famous.

He did get to Paris for the liberation of Paris, and that was fabulous. Then, it was very scary for us because we heard his broadcast from the day of the liberation of Paris, too, and he said where he was. We could picture where he was, and when I went to Paris, I could see exactly where he was. [In the broadcast,] you could hear the shots coming, and the snipers were still there. The Germans were still in control of Paris until a few days later. It was pretty scary to hear your father being shot at. That would be scary.

He went into Paris in a Jeep with a driver and John MacVane, who was another famous war correspondent.

Did your father talk about the war a lot when he came back?

He talked about it because he was so famous and had written these reports, so everybody invited him to make speeches. He went not just around Atlanta, but all over Georgia. There were invitations from Rotary Clubs and Kiwanis Clubs, high schools, colleges to talk about his experiences because he was that much in demand and that famous.

It was really funny. One time, he went to South Carolina to an old girlfriend’s hometown. She and Mother were sitting on the front row, and he was starting to talk. She turned to my mama and said, “Aren’t you afraid Wright will forget something?” Mama said, “No, if he forgets, I’ll just go up and give the speech for him! I know it by heart.” (Laughs…) They were a very happy couple. Anyway, [the experience] made him his career.

Right after he got home to Atlanta, he was made the top editor of the paper. He had been just the managing editor before the war, but when he got home from the war and prison camp, he was made the top editor of the paper. That was huge. He remained that until he became the top editor in the country. He was president of the American Society of Newspaper Editors. That brought him to the attention of Cleveland, Ohio, who needed a new editor for their paper. Their old editor was getting old and tired and sick and what not, so they came down and recruited my father to be editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer, which was one of the top papers in America.

Did your family move to Ohio?

Yes, we moved to Cleveland, Ohio when I was between my junior and senior years in college. Mama said that they had ten happy years there and one unhappy year. That was when a young man about my age (whose family did happen to own the paper in Cleveland) came in and started bossing Daddy around. Daddy had been brought up there to revive the paper. That didn’t fly, so my father quit the Plain Dealer.

That was when he went back to his Alma Mater of Clemson University. They had been after him for a while and really wanting him to come to Clemson. The last part of his career was a happy one in Clemson. Your mother would remember it well. Actually, your mother was born in Anderson, South Carolina next door to Clemson. At any rate, he was vice president for development of Clemson, which was a huge job. It was next to the president of Clemson. He had a very happy and successful time there. He made speeches for the president and raised money for the university. He and mother loved Clemson, and we did, too. We had a wonderful home and experience there.

So that was his working career. He was a big man, and he was tall and handsome. He was 6’5”. He got tired of people asking him how tall he was, so he would reply, “I’m 5’17”.” just to make them be quiet. That’s funny!

 

(To be continued in Part II…)

Mr. William J. Bryan III (Part III)

 

(Continued from Part II…)

During your military career—?

I was only in it for four years. For those four years, did you stay in Panama? I had seven weeks of Basic Training at Fort Jackson (April/May 1966, Co ‘A’, 2^nd Training Battalion and 1^st Training Brigade—King of the Hill).

Then, the Army shipped me to Monterey, California, Defense Language Institute West Coast for 6 months, where I was taught Portuguese. Oh wow. Yeah, I had two years of French at Russellville High School in Arkansas and two quarters of German at Georgia Tech, but I wasn’t a linguist! I only took the courses because I was told I had to take the courses. The Army said, “Oh you’re going to be a linguist.” I said (sighs), but it was nice… beautiful. I don’t know if you’ve ever been out to the West Coast or Monterey, in particular. No, I haven’t.

That’s where the people from LA come up to take vacation because it’s so incredibly beautiful. You have the Redwood Forest. Also, you have a tremendous coastline called Seventeen Mile Drive, and that’s where a lot of movies are shot. In fact, they have a regulation that in those seventeen miles, film crews, when they’re out on a boat, should not be able to see any human habitation. They want to disguise it, make it look wild, so that they can film movies. Monterey, California has a lot of movie stars. Clint Eastwood was mayor of nearby Carmel.

This was 1966. This was the beginning of the hippie era, and San Francisco was ground central for the hippie movement. I can mention that one of my first trips to San Francisco was the first time I saw multi-racial couples holding hands in public. Black guys, black girls, white guys, Asians, gays—we called them ‘homos’ at the time. Usually, it was guy-guy. You know, I just said, “I love it, I love it.” Yeah.

I’ll tell one little adventure I had with my buds. In fact, these are the guys from my language school. Three of these guys had advanced degrees. Passehl had a Master’s degree in math. Stigler had a degree; I forgot what his was. And Rooney only had a GED. I think he only had an eighth or ninth grade education, but he was leader of our group. He was smart. That’s incredible.

Our DLIWC class was given a field trip to San Francisco with one of our language instructors, Senor Peiria from Portugal. Prof. Peiria’s car broke down in San Francisco at about midnight. We pushed his car to a safe spot and left a note so that it wouldn’t be towed. We then caught an electric tram and went to a boarding house near Haight/Ashbury and spent the night.

The next morning, I got up early. One of our hosts was making breakfast when the doorbell rang. “That’s probably our mailman,” said our host. “My hands are covered in biscuit dough, would you please answer the door?” I went downstairs, opened the door and took a double take. It was a US Mailman, but he had long, wild blond hair and a scraggly beard, was wearing USPS shirt and cutoff USPS pants, and was carrying his mail in a wheeled gold tote. Welcome to San Francisco, 1966.

Colonel John Boyd is another one of my heroes. He was called Forty Second Boyd. Have you ever seen the movie Top Gun with Tom Cruise? I’ve heard of it so many times. I’ve been meaning to see it. Well, Flight of the Intruder is incredible. I have friends who were Naval aviators, and they really liked Top Gun. I mean, there are lots of quibbles. Give me a break, you can’t have a perfect movie, but the same goes for Flight of the Intruder.

When you’re in a top-gun class like Boyd, you have one plane that is sort of like a target. Another plane comes up behind you, and the clock starts ticking. They say, “Okay, it’s on,” and the person in front is supposed to lose the person in back. The person in back is trying to get radar lock so that they can hit you. This is “funzies” although some people die.

Boyd was called Forty Second Boyd because he could be in an unfavorable 6 o’clock position with the person behind him trying to get radar lock, and he could reverse positions in less than forty seconds, come up behind, and get radar lock—all in less than 40 seconds. Wow. A number of times, they would use different aircrafts—say, an F-14 against an F-16. It did not matter what sort of plane; it was still forty seconds or less that Boyd would get it. That’s incredible! He wasn’t just a great pilot; he was also a tremendous strategist.

When you got out of the military after the 4 years, were you happy that you had signed up for it?

Yes.

Did you get a benefit from it?

Yes, but I felt like I had not done much for the United States. I wanted to be patriotic and all that sort of thing. Other than what happened with the U.S.S. Pueblo, I felt like I really hadn’t done much. I was just in the back doing what we called “Intelligence Grunt Work.” Actually, the minimum-security clearance to work at Ops was ‘Top Secret.’

I got to meet some incredibly smart people. One guy in Panama would read 6 or 7 books a day plus 7 or 8 newspapers. Wow, how did he do that? He just had one of those types of speed-reading [abilities], and he could quote anything you wanted right back at you.

Other guys were tremendous linguists. One of my friends in Thailand—I called him Donald Duck, and I still forget his real name—was another goofy-looking person. Still, he was a phenomenal linguist. He knew Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Thai, Vietnamese, Lao, and a lot of dialects—French, German…

When did you go to Thailand?

That was from June ’69 until I got out in March of 1970.

So did you join [the military] again?

No, I came very close. They were waiving a promotion, pro-pay, tax free, all sorts of stuff.

(Showing me a picture) These people are pinning on E-6 stripes, and this sergeant here was promoted from Buck to Staff Sergeant. He was not a particularly nice guy, but I am going to tell you what a happened a few days after this picture was taken.

He was at a bar in Udorn, Thailand, which was about 10 or 15 miles from our little post, and was celebrating his promotion from E5 to E6. He dropped a 5 Baht piece (Thai currency), which looks about the same size as an American quarter and, at that time, was worth about the same as a US quarter.

Anyway, it was rolling around, and he stomped on it. Well, the whole bar went quiet, and a corporal said, “Sergeant, let’s get out of here; something weird is happening.” The sergeant said, “I want to drink; I want to finish my beer.” The other guy said, “Sergeant, I’m getting out of here” because he saw the owner of the bar tell someone something, and that person went running out of the bar. The corporal said, “I’m out,” so he ran out to the taxi stand. He either took a Baht bus or a taxi.

I was at the headquarters building of Ramasun Station. This corporal came in and said, “Something weird is happening. I’m concerned about Sgt. X.” The safety of him?

Yes. Thailand was very safe most of the time. Thailand is called the “Land of Smiles.” Anyway, he said, “Something weird is going on.”

About that time, the NCOIC (Non-Commissioned Officer In Charge) got a call from the Thai troops in Udorn, and they said, “Get your corporal out of Ramasun ASAP!” “Why?” “There are police, military, and civilians coming because the corporal was party to a high crime of treason against the royal family. You need to get him out RIGHT NOW!” Our NCOIC called the Korat Royal Thai Air Force base about 15 miles from us. “Send a helicopter to Ramasun, so we can get our man off our post ASAP.” Korat said said, “We’ll get him.”

While we waited for Korat’s helicopter to arrive, the Corporal described what had happened in the bar. Another GI who listened to the Corporal’s story gave us another short briefing about Thai customs:

The new E-6 sergeant was arrested because the 5 baht piece has a picture of the King of Siam/Thailand. Putting his foot on the King’s head (on the coin) is an act of treason, a five-year sentence for ignorant ‘round eyes’ (Americans) or a ten-year sentence for Native Thais. Any round eye even only with the person who committed this ‘treason’ would be just as guilty and also sentenced to five years in prison.

Long story short, that was in December of ’69. Sgt. X was in Udorn’s jail, AKA

Udorn’s Monkey House. We Ramasun troopies would make ‘care packages’ with food, clothing, cigarettes, etc. and hand deliver a care package once each day to Sgt. X. I and another Ramasun bud went twice to deliver food to Sgt. X. When we would visit him in the visiting area, he would just dig into the food. Each care package had multiple days’ worth of food, which Sgt. X could use as bargaining chips in the ‘Hell Hole’ jail he was in.

In March 1970 shortly before I left Thailand to ETS from the Army, I saw Sgt. X and delivered another care package to him. Sgt. X said, “I didn’t know, I didn’t know.” Combat vet Sgt. X was crying like a baby the last time I saw him. That’s too bad.

Our State Department briefing that we received when we first arrived in Thailand didn’t tell us that stomping on Thai currency was against the law. I could have been in jail like Sgt. X. There are other countries, most notably Turkey, which have similar laws, and “Ignorance of the Law” is not a valid excuse. You have to know the cultural landmines. 

In general, I know you are an activist now. What problems in the world are you most concerned about today, and what do you think can be done to solve them?

Well, education, energy, environment, and voter integrity are some issues I care about. I have been pushing choice in education via taxpayer-funded vouchers for kids to attend private and parochial schools since 1993. If you do not have a well-educated electorate, you can get people like Obama elected. I suspected that Obama would be very bad for America and America’s Society. By George, he justified my low expectations for him.

According to the US military, an average 8^th grade graduate from the year 1900 had better math skills, better verbal skills, better spatial skills, better all around thinking skills than the average 12^th grade graduate from the year 2000. The US military has been doing massive testing since before the Spanish American War. When I got in the military, you had to take verbal, math, and spatial tests.

We have a lot of junk science, and we have a lot of people that want us to have wars and wars and wars. I don’t want to play that stupid game, but the US keeps on doing it. We keep on turning a lot of our best and brightest people into hamburger meat. I don’t like that.

How would you define a successful and happy life for anyone or for yourself?

When I had my health, I could play tennis and do a lot of swimming or water skiing. I can still swim pretty well. A happy life would be a life of fulfillment and a life where you think that you are making a difference.

For instance, when I started on my quest in 1992 to improve education for kids here in America, there were only three or four thousand kids who were getting taxpayer-funded vouchers to go to private or parochial schools. Now in 2014, there are over six hundred thousand taxpayer-funded ‘voucher kids.’ Maybe a little bit happened because of me.

I’ve been giving these handouts out for over twenty years. The one I have with me was first given out in 2000 when I was running for board of education here. I had bought a house here because they had Vo-tech and college prep together. My son had been to private parochial schools all his life and was going to Landmark in Fairburn, GA, which is only college prep. I love Landmark. My son wanted to do auto mechanics, electrical work, etc., and he was two years ahead of the math programs here in Fayette County Schools.

For my last question, what advice do you have for younger generations like my generation?

Well, don’t focus on the name brands of schools. A lot of people are focused on Yale or Harvard, and that may not be the place they need to be.

As an example, one of my friend’s daughters wanted to go to Georgia State. I said that she needed to go to a junior college for the first two years because it would be a whole lot cheaper and she would get the scut work out of the way. She said, “No, I want to party.” That’s what she did for the first year (partying), and she almost lost it.

I gave the same advice to my brother Brad. I suggested Brad go for the first two years to a junior college, so he did. He went to DeKalb College, which is now called Perimeter College, and he got his two-year degree. All his credits were transferrable, so he then went to the University of Georgia. He got his BS degree in Hydrology, and then he got his Master’s degree in Hydrology. Then, he started work at the Bureau of Mines. For the last ten or fifteen years, he was with the USGS (United States Geological Survey) and retired about three years ago. He has a nice pension, and he did a lot of useful stuff. Also, when he graduated, he had virtually no education debt.

Mr. William J. Bryan III (Part II)

 

(Continued from Part I…)

How did you decide to join the military when you were in college?

I was so disgusted with Georgia Tech; I’d been beating my head against… I just needed to get away from my parents and get away from Atlanta. So, I went to an Army recruiter and said, “I’d like to join for two years.” [Recruiter said,] “You can’t join for two years. You have to join for three years.” “Okay I’ll join up for three years.” Bing! The recruiter’s eyes get big and said, “Boy, have I got a special program for you, but it’s a four-year commitment.” And I said, “what is it?” “It’s the Army Security Agency.” I said, “What’s that, a glorified name for an MP, Military Police?” He said, “No.” I said, “What is it?” He said, “I can’t tell you; it’s ‘SECRET.’” Boing! I was hooked!

They promised me that I’d get electronics training. I got in, and they said, “You’re not qualified for electronics training, Mr. Bryan.” I said, “Well, they said I could take classes which would make me qualified.” They said “Do you have it in writing?” That was the constant refrain of most of the guys that I talked with. I only met one person, Steve Holland, who got his promises in writing from the recruiter, and when he asserted his rights, the Army made his life Hell. Steve was one of the smartest, bravest people I’ve ever known, and I named my son after him. Steve didn’t have high school diploma; he had a GED!

They have a written rule in the military that once you graduate from Basic Training, the Army has six months to give you the class that you were promised. If they do not give you that class, you get an Honorable Discharge with all rights and benefits—education, VA benefit… Anyway, about three months after graduating from Basic Training, Steve had not gotten his class, so he wrote letters to his congressman. The Army didn’t like that, so they gave him what they call Permanent KP at Fort Devens, Massachusetts.

Steve would report in the morning at about six o’clock, and then he would work until 8 or 9 pm. They gave him the worst jobs possible: “Pots and Pans” and grease trap. They wouldn’t provide him with the protective gloves. You need to [have those gloves] when you’re doing pots and pans and grease. Your hands start turning… Anyway, so he bought some himself from the Devens’ PX. Well, the people who were giving him a hard time said, “Those aren’t Army-issued; you can’t use them.” “Well, issue me some,” Steve said. They wouldn’t issue him any, so he did it barehanded.

Then, he got “trench hand.” Ever heard of trench foot??? Oh yeah. [That’s what happened to people] especially during the Civil War and World War I. Is it pus and everything? You get trench foot when your feet are wet a lot and when they’re not allowed to dry. You’re feet just start dissolving. Anyway, his commanding officers wouldn’t let Steve go to the hospital or Sick Call. Finally, he did go to the hospital… without his officers’ permission. They didn’t like that either. Steve got a Doctor’s excuse saying that he did not have to do pots and pans or grease trap; he could do dry work for the next two or three weeks while his hands recuperated. Our Battalion commander, MoH winner LtC Millett, really didn’t like that!

Then, a month before the Army’s 6 month time limit was to expire, they gave Steve “FireWatch.” After Steve got off KP, he had to do eight hours of going around to see that the coal fire furnaces in the barracks had enough fuel. Also, he’d go through the barracks to see that nothing bad was happening. Officially, Steve’s commanding officers had Steve working twenty-four hours a day. The mess hall NCOIC thought Steve was getting a raw deal and allowed Steve to sleep a little bit at the cafeteria or the mess hall. Still, Steve was officially working 24 hours a day/7 days a week; and would until they broke him.

THAT created a congressional investigation to find out why these Official Turkeys—our officers—were harassing Steve so much. Eventually, he didn’t have to do the FireWatch, but he still had to do Permanent KP seven days a week. Two days before his sixth months were up, they shipped him off to Fort Meade, Maryland, which is “Spook Central.” Have you ever heard of the NSA? No. National Security Agency. They’re currently having a big boo-rah about monitoring American computer and telephone calls and billions of people world-wide who are being monitored (most everyday citizens). Anyway, they sent him there to the cryptographic repair machine school, which had something like an eighty percent dropout rate. It also involved some of the highest, TOP SECRET work in the US Army stuff.

Anyway, they sent him to Fort Meade, Maryland and I was sent down to ASASouthCom, Fort Clayton, Panama Canal Zone. A few months later, here comes Steve Holland. I said, “What happened?” He said, “Well, I graduated.” He was second in the class! Oh my goodness, wow. What can I say? It just showed what a person [can do.] I found out later that he only had an eighth grade education. His nickname was “The Duke,” which was sort of pejorative in a way because he was a quintessential nerd: pasty faced, thick glasses, short. It seemed like all the time, he was rumpled. Regular army guys just couldn’t stand his appearance.

When we get to SouthComs’ Ops Center, we had something like a big bank vault in the basement where Crypto was. Have you ever seen a bank vault? In movies. Yeah, well, the cryptographic people would come in, and they would relieve the previous shift. They’d lock that door, and they’d be in there for an eight-hour or ten-hour shift. What were they doing? They were cryptographic; they handled the code breaking, transmission of classified materials, and all that sort of thing. Wow. Then, they fed it to Fort Meade.

Was all this work for the effort of the Vietnam War?

This was for worldwide intelligence—Vietnam, Korea. In fact, this is a famous picture (showing me a picture of Pueblo crewmen prisoners giving the N Korean photographer “The Finger”). I played a small part trying to get these guys from becoming North Korean captives. These guys [in the picture] are U.S. Navy. Oh, okay. See, we were all part of the huge American intelligence gathering community. These guys were on a little intelligence gathering ship called the U.S.S. Pueblo. Here’s my Pueblo story:

One evening, I was drifting around our SouthComOps Center when one of the O5K guys said, “Bryan. Psst. Come with me.” He said, “Look at this.” It was an SOS from a ship, U.S.S. Pueblo. I said, “What the heck is the U.S.S. Pueblo? It says they’re off the Korean coast. We’re in Panama for crying out loud!” It was coming through loud—what we call 5 by 5—just a powerful, powerful signal.

O5K said, “This is weird. This is really weird. They say they’re a U.S. Navy ship, but it’s not a microwave or FM transmission. It’s unencrypted, and it’s on the International Emergency Band at 500KH—KiloHertz. What’s going on?”

I look. There were about two or three rows on the paper printout, and it was coming in real sloooww. “Hey!” said the O5K operator. “Are you O5H guys playing a joke on me?” (Some people did play practical jokes at our TOP SECRET facility… not me!)

I said, “If someone’s doing it, we need to spank him. Call Homestead to DF this transmission.” So he did. About two minutes later, klaxons go off in our Ops Center. This is a “Critique situation.” The head of our shift comes running in—Lt. something. I forgot his name. (He was real nice guy.) He comes running in and says, “This is legit, folks.”

A “Critique Situation” means that the transmissions that we’re picking up are fed directly to the president—President Johnson at that time—to his National Security Advisor, to The War Room, Joint Chiefs, etc. Everything that we get, they get almost instantaneously.

So did they find out what the ship was?

Oh yeah, they found out. That was the reason the klaxons went off—because these guys were doing what’s called a “touch-and-go operation.” The Pueblo was an old Liberty Ship from World War II converted to Intelligence work. They would go along the coast of North Korea and squish into North Korean territorial waters hoping to pick up SigInt, Signal Intelligence, and listen to the North Korean reaction with their electronic ears on for radar and other transmissions.

You don’t mess with the North Koreans. The Pueblo was supposed to have backup or a “Tripwire Protocol.” They were supposed to have constant radio communication with a carrier group. Something happened to communications.

Anyway, it was a big, long, pathetic story. In 2001, I got to meet the Pueblo’s Captain, Commander Bucher. Do you see what they’re doing [in the picture]? Not really. That’s a North Korean PR picture where they wanted to show the world that Pueblo crewmembers were being treated humanely. Oh, so they’re POWs. In that picture, yeah, they’re POWs.

Why was this ship on the coast of Panama?

No, it wasn’t off the coast of Panama, where I was. They were in Korea, North Korea. Microwave and FM signals are pretty much line of sight. An AM transmission uses the ionosphere; it can bounce. That’s why somebody with a—are you familiar with amateur radio? You mean just like radio waves? They call them Ham Operators. They operate on FM and AM. With a 50 Watt, AM transmitter, you could communicate with someone on the other side of the world, and it could come in clear as a bell if the conditions were just right. And that’s what happened to us.

So you were the ones who found out that these men were prisoners of war?

No. They weren’t prisoners at that time. North Korean jets and torpedo boats were attacking them. Without backup. They didn’t have backup. Right, well, they were supposed to have backup.

In July 2001, they had a plaque presentation down at the POW museum in Andersonville. I’ve been there, yeah. Okay. Considering how bleak the prisoners of war subject is, it was very inspiring place. Anyway, on that date, they had most of the surviving members of the Pueblo and Commander Bucher. They also had Rolling Thunder (a POW advocacy group) down there. A bunch of the guys had been on the carrier group that was supposed to provide them backup. They also had some people from NSA and CIA who were there.

Everybody was talking about why Johnson did not do anything to save these guys from being taken prisoner. The North Koreans and the Russians made a tremendous intelligence coup because the Pueblo’s crew wasn’t able to destroy all their crypto equipment and graphic machines. AND! Somebody put huge amounts of CIA, NSA archival material in the Pueblo as ballast, and it went all the way back to World War I! Anyway, I got to shake hands with Commander Bucher, and I gave him one of my handouts. Oh my goodness.

Anyway like Forrest Gump, I’ve been at a lot of interesting turns of history. Unfortunately, you don’t know anything; you’ve never heard of the Pueblo, but…

Well, you know, now that you’ve explained it and stuff, it does sound familiar.

See, only we were getting the Pueblo’s radio transmission; a carrier group was less than fifty miles away from the Pueblo, but they weren’t getting any of the SOS transmissions. The signal was going up and bouncing across them. It would bounce, bounce, and finally, it hit us around five thousand miles away, coming in as clear as a bell. That’s why what we were doing was so critical. That’s incredible.

That was one of only two critiques in the eighteen months I was at Fort Clayton. Beautiful, beautiful country—beautiful. A lot of military were retiring down there. Where is that? Panama. Not the Canal Zone, but the country of Panama. Well, the Canal Zone was very beautiful; it was like colonial Britain with these big beautiful white buildings with red tile roofs like SouthCom’s barracks. From a distance, they looked beautiful in big red tile roofs, but when you get into them, there was no air conditioning except for the officers and the Day Room.

Anyway, Panama is a very tropical place, and there are all sorts of things that grow down there. Every morning, your shoes would be covered with a thin layer of green fungi.

Wasn’t Jimmy Carter the one who gave the Panama Canal to Panama?

Yep, in the Canal Zone Treaty it said we could stay there for another ninety-nine years, but Carter chose not to renew the agreement signed back in 1903 by Teddy Roosevelt. Yes, Carter gave it back. There were a lot of us who were bitter about that because almost immediately Red Chinese Army “fronts” started putting a move on it. They are now controlling a lot of the Panama Canal. Oh, I didn’t even realize that.

A number of us think that they’re putting into place what are called “set charges” to destroy the canal in case of a big, huge emergency—like a war with the US.

So what other kind of history have you witnessed?

When I was down there—have you ever seen the Woody Allen movie Bananas? No. Okay. That’s when Woody Allen was funny! Anyway, in Bananas, they are doing a takeoff on a coup that’s going to occur, and they have [the main actor] describing it like it’s a sports event.

And is this the president of Panama? Well, no. In Bananas, the reason they call it “Bananas” is because the United Fruit Company had a lot of interest down in Central America. Bananas were one of their big, profitable fruits. We intervened in Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, and Mexico. I’m trying to think if there’s any nation in Central America that we haven’t stuck our U.S. Marines in. I guess the only one may have been Belize, AKA British Honduras, but we’ve been a big bad bully in Central America for various, politically connected US companies.

In 1968, Panama had a free and open election, and candidate Arias won in a landslide. The commander of the Guardia National, Omar Torrijos was supposed to have a coup before the results were known because we pretty much knew Arias was going to be elected. He was anti-American and wanted to kick us out of the Canal Zone. Torrijos knew that if Arias came into power, he would kick Omar Torrijos out. It might not be very happy for Mr. Torrijos. So he said…(Mr. Bryan grumbles).

Torrijos allowed the people to elect Arias; he allowed them to have their victory celebrations. Then, about two days later, he sent Arias and his family, friends and relatives to exile in Miami, Florida. During this coup, only one or two people got killed, and that was mainly because of some college students who just didn’t take it.

They took their election too seriously. I mean, it was a joke—in a way. We were on alert for about seventy-two hours because we knew it was coming. Torrijos and the Guardia National did a really good job of just clapping down because the guys in the Guardia National pretty much knew that if Arias came in, they were out.

Was Torrijos pro-American?

Well, I liked Torrijos. I have a friend, Colonel Bill Camper, who was down there at the same time I was (different unit), and he liked Torrijo, too. Giving the reasons why I did like him would take a long time to explain, though.

Still, in the main, our US Government was acting like a big spoiled kid. (Read The Ugly American.) A lot of the Panamanians liked us as individual Americans, but they did not like our American government policies. That’s the message I got wherever I went, whether it was Thailand or talking to people from the Middle East or Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, India. They just want us to mind our own business. Yes. Those foreign people are begging, “Leave us alone! Leave us alone.” Our leaders then and now just don’t want to do that.

 

(To be continued in Part III…)

Mr. William J. Bryan III (Part I)

 (Born August 1947)

Parents: Bobby and William J. Bryan, Jr.

Siblings: Bob, Brad, and Bruce

First Wife: Becky Bowen

Second Wife: Sunny Kim

Children: Steven Kim Bryan

 

So when were you born?

August, 1947, Durango, Colorado. Next year, another one of my brothers, Bob, was born there and in the same hospital, Mercy General. Oh, really? Yes, the next year, 1948.

Do you have siblings?

Yep, I have three: Bob, Brad, and Bruce. Oh, all B-names, Bill, Bob, Brad, and Bruce! And, my mom’s name is Bobby. (Bruce died over 20 years ago at age 40.)

What about your dad?

His name is William J. Bryan, Jr. I’m number three; he’s number two, and my grandfather is William J. Bryan.

What do you remember about your childhood? Is there anything that stands out?

Oh, there’s a bunch of things standing out. During my 1^st five years of life, our family lived at a number of locations in Colorado and New Mexico—Ignacio, Fort Collins, Albuquerque, etc…

One year we had a big snow, and I was just jumping at the bit to have some snow ice cream. Anyway, they had an advisory that we weren’t supposed to eat the snow because the Feds had blown-up an A-Bomb in the atmosphere; the winds changed and blew fallout towards SW Colorado. I asked, “So, why can’t you eat snow ice cream? Why can’t we have snow ice cream?” [My family said,] “Well, if you eat it, it’ll make you glow.” “Really?” I said. I immediately ran outside Grandma B’s house in Ignacio, and I started gobbling snow. “Why are you eating the snow?!” my parents asked? “I want to glow,” I answered. Telling a kid that he would glow was the wrong thing to tell a kid! Yeah, wrong… So that’s one of my stories.

Another time, I was at Fort Collins and we had a 12 inch snow. When the snowing stopped, one of my buds says, “Let’s go down to the train station,” which was about a mile away. So on our tricycles—in the snow—we went chu-chu-chu-chuing down to the train station. Once there, we went all over Ft. Collins.

What we didn’t realize was that there was an APB out for two missing kids ages 4-5, AKA me and my bud. ‘What had happened?’ ‘Where’d they go?’ We were out, I guess, for two or three hours—train station here, bus station there… just going all over the Ft. Collins exploring. Finally, the cops found us, stopped us, and took us home. We got—well, I got my tail whooped. I don’t know about my friend; I’m sure he did, too. That’s funny!

Another story: My brother Bruce has the distinction of being the only Pale-Face to be born in the large Ute Indian Hospital in Ignacio, Colorado. Here’s how: My very pregnant mother told my dad one spring day, “I’m ready to have my baby, let’s go to Durango.” Mom and Dad left me with Grandma B at her house in Ignacio, and they left for Durango in our junky automobile. As Mom and Dad were about to leave the tiny town of Ignacio, she told my Dad: “I can’t make it to Durango; let’s go to the Indian Hospital.”

My Aunt Geneva was working that day at the Ute Indian Hospital as a nurse and took a break to go outside to wave at her brother Bill and my Mom. Geneva was waving at my parents as they got to Ignacio City limits and when they drove into the hospital parking lot.

Geneva thought that our car was having problems so she offered to lend my Dad her nice big Mercury Coupe for the 30 mile trip to Durango.

“Thanks Geneva; but, no,” said my Dad. “Bobby’s about to pop! May we use the Indian hospital?”

“Yep,” said my Aunt Geneva.

And this is when Bruce was born? “Yep. That day the hospital elevator wasn’t working so my Mom had to climb two flights of stairs with my Dad and my aunt assisting. Oh my goodness. Mom gets up there and climbs on the delivery table. Nurse Geneva becomes Midwife Geneva and instructs my Dad how to carefully administer ether for pain. Mom gets a few snorts of ether—she wanted more—and, very quickly, boom—here comes baby brother Bruce. Anyway, he was—as far as I know—the only Pale-Face to be born at the Ute hospital in Ignacio, Colorado. Wow, that’s impressive!

Officially, the administration turned a blind eye to my white parents using a Fed hospital that only Indians could use. My parents sort of snuck in the front door, delivered brother Bruce and quickly snuck out. There might be a record of it; I do not know. It’s on Bruce’s birth certificate. That’s a crazy story. Yes.

What about high school? Was there a special hangout spot that your friends went to?

Yeah, there was. I’m—I hate to say it—a nerd and still something like a nerd. I am too; I love school. Well, my best friend Jack Hambrick introduced me to chess. I had seen it and tried to learn it, but I’d had a terrible teacher and really couldn’t play. Still, Jack was an excellent chess instructor and easily taught me how to play chess. He showed me how to play the first game, which he won, and then according to Jack, I beat him every time we played from then on. Wow.

Anyway, we took French and were in Science Fiction Club and Chess Club. For all those clubs, we would meet at Jack’s house. There weren’t too many places to meet in Russellville, Arkansas, at least for teenage kids. You know, you had school and church functions, but it was a whole lot more fun at Jack’s house. We would talk about various science fiction stories, current events, etc…

Before I read my first science fiction story, I only read history books, autobiographies, school assignments and stuff by James Michener.

My interest in science fiction began this way. In the 6^th grade one of my classmates, Linda K, gave a book report on Have Space Suit—Will Travel by Robert Heinlein. During her oral presentation, I said, “That’s pathetic; that’s not possible.”

“Oh, it’s in the book!” said Linda K. For instance, she said, “Oh, they crash landed on the Moon, and then, they walked back to Earth.” “No, can’t be…” I said. “Oh, well, read the book!” said Linda.

So, I read my first book of science fiction, and she was…WRONG. They walked back to the Earth station on the Moon after crash landing on the Moon. It was a great introduction to science fiction and I began a long love affair with Heinlein’s books. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein is my favorite, which I’ve read probably fifteen or twenty times. I get a little teary-eyed each time I read it because it’s sooo good, and it still holds up science wise, except Heinlein thought we’d be putting a self-sustaining colony on our Moon before year 2000. Then again, we might already have one there… (X-Files music)

Is that your favorite book, would you say?

It’s one of my favorites, and here are some others: Sum of All Fears by Tom Clancy—I get teary-eyed reading that book… Unintended Consequences by John Ross, which is about yeh big (shows me with his hands). I just ripped through that thing; I have it highlighted.

When you read, do you annotate everything? They’re trying to get us to do that in school—to just write.

Mm-hmm. It may knock down the value of the book, but I don’t care. But it makes the value higher to you. Uh-huh. To realize, “Oh, let me go quickly to that particular section or that particular picture…”

What was your favorite subject in high school and in college?

The favorites for me were history, science, physics, and math in high school. I got all A’s and one B even though I had a 97% overall! After high school, I went to Georgia Tech in 1965. In ’66, I got sick of Georgia Tech and joined the military—ASA, Army Security Agency—and was there from ’66 to ’70. Then, I got out, and I went almost immediately back into Georgia Tech. I beat my head against the social [subjects] with the English department and all that, but there was one person in the social science department who was just phenomenal. His name was Dr. Brittain.

At Georgia Tech they have a Brittain Hall where they serve food. (I don’t know if it’s named after him.) Dr. Brittain had a PhD in Electrical Engineering, and as they say, he “made his bundle.” Then, he decided, “You know what? I love history, and I love instilling the love of science and engineering,” so, he got his PhD in History. PHS—Philosophy and History of Science—was his class’s name, and you [as a student] never knew what you were going to get into. I liked to think that I’d read a lot, but for every book I’d read, he’d probably read five. That was delightful because, usually, I knew more than many of the History or Social Science teachers.

But, in the English department, it was still excruciating! I took a course with the boring name, Technical Writing, taught by a Dr. Metcalfe. Metcalfe’s orientation class began something like:

“The best you can do, if you work with me, is a B in this class. And, if you work and I see that you’ve put forward effort, you get a C. But if you don’t do either of those, you’re going to get an F.” I know you think you’re smart (and you are smart), but you’re profoundly ignorant. You don’t know how ignorant you are right now, so I’m going to show you.”

You know our noses could have gotten out of joint when somebody tells you, “You’re ignorant, but you don’t know you’re ignorant.” Anyway, he proceeded to show us how ignorant we were by giving us “Metcalfe’s Orientation Pop Quiz.” Nobody got a good score, but his test was intriguing and nobody dropped out. I got a B in his class, and he showed us how to do boring, normal things like resumes. He also showed us the psychology of letter writing and advertising. He knew his stuff was an advisor to outfits like Coca-Cola, Colt Industries, Frito-Lay, etc… He was just a phenomenal, phenomenal person and a phenomenal, phenomenal teacher. Wow, that sounds amazing.

What was your major at Georgia Tech?

I started out in Chemical Engineering. I wanted to be a nuclear propulsion or energy engineer. Oh, wow. Yeah, and so that’s where I started out, but it was the English department that was killing me. I’ve read newspaper articles since then saying that they’ve gotten even worse [at Georgia Tech in the English department].

I have advised people not to go to Georgia Tech for the first four years. Don’t do it because of the English department—they really can’t stand the fact that a person with a just a new BS Chemistry Engineering degree would probably make as much as one of those tenured PhD professors in the Georgia Tech English department with just starting pay. So, a number of people have taken my advice and have taken the first two years at a junior college completing “Scut Work” classes in English, History, and Political Science. [Those subjects] have almost nothing to do with being engineers or scientists. Then, [those students can] go to Georgia Tech, but I still recommend Southern Polytech [over Georgia Tech]. A number of people who have graduated from Southern Tech thank me very much. They say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you” because at Georgia Tech, they brag about how tough they are. At Southern Polytech, the professors actually try to help their students; they’re not there to fail you. They’re there to help you. Yeah, I’ve heard some things about Georgia Tech, like how crazy competitive it is and how it’s just so stressful. Well, most of my problems were from the English department.

Have you ever heard of the actor Anthony Newley? He was just a quintessential British snot of an actor. He also sang… excruciatingly. Anyway, while I was at Georgia Tech, he was the head of the English department. When I found out that Technical Writing (which I enjoyed and where I thought I had learned so much) was not given credit as a requirement… “It’s considered an elective, Mr. Bryan.” (Speaking in a funny, high-pitched voice…) I said, “But I learned so much.” “We’re not here for skill development, Mr. Bryan. We’re here to enrich you, to broaden your perspective.”

I enjoyed reading everything from Xenophon and the Persian Campaign, which was written about 2500 years ago, which is a phenomenal piece of work. And Tacitus, Lives by Plutarch, where he compares great Greeks and Romans. For me, high school and college just drained the life out of good literature. That friend of mine, Jack Hambrick—when I met him in the ninth grade, had been reading the complete works of Shakespeare every two years. “Eww…” I said. I didn’t see the beauty of Shakespeare until I got out of college and went and saw the movie Romeo and Juliet by Zeffirelli. We saw that in school; I love that movie!

No way would Shakespeare write something as beautiful as the dialog I heard in Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet. But I checked, and Shakespeare did! In high school, our teachers just drained the ever-lovin’ life out of Shakespeare’s works and other Classic

Literature. I was so disgusted with the English teachers at my highly rated high school and Georgia Tech and also with most English teachers today, who are continuing their assault against their students.

 

(To be continued in Part II…)