Category Archives: Fashion, music, politics, sports

Politics, music, and fashion

[May 02, 1962] A Good Lie (Letter Column #2)

[Our penpal is back, this time with a highly topical story…]

Dear Editor:

How nice that you've published my letter, with Barney's picture!  Geez, I shouldn't have sent my picture–just wanted you to know which one I was of all the people I'm sure you talked to.  Anyway, I thought of something I didn't write about in my first letter to you.  (Thanks for sending some back issues of your publication.) I see that you are aware that there is something going on in Indochina that involves the US (March 31, 1961), but now, a year later, yes, it is clear that we as a nation are involved in war, but are just being sort of secretive about it. 

Last summer I participated in my first demonstration.  It was a "lie-in."

I wouldn't have gotten involved, but I heard through my boyfriend Leon that it was happening and he invited me.  He has been keeping me up to date on Indochina, and when I can listen to the radio (public radio) I know that he is right.  The US is this year pouring in "advisers" and maybe even regular troops.  The Christian Science Monitor is keeping tabs on what is going on over there, and it isn't pretty.

So I decided to go demonstrate against sending US troops, with Leon, and we arrived after classes with blankets, his sleeping bag, and warm clothing (even summer nights can be cold here.) There weren't many of us, and I didn't know the others, but everybody was friendly.  There was plenty of room on the Administration lawn, even though it is small, for us all to lie down without getting into anyone else's space.  I was surprised to see that someone had invented a new symbol.  They had painted it on cardboard and it occupied a place on the lawn close to the walkway for passersby, who were vocally invited to join us.


from David McReynolds

It's an anti-war sign that consists of two semaphore signals, one for "N," and one for "D," standing for "Nuclear" and "Disarmament," with a circle around them.  So "nuclear disarmament" is broadened to all weapons and war.  Funny looking sign, but I think you'll see more of it.

I think Leon and I shared his sleeping bag, since the only blanket I had wasn't adequate.  (Of course nothing could happen between us with everybody around us awake for much of the night.  It was too cold, anyway.) In the morning, we were covered with dew.

Thanks for your forum.  Please keep an ear or eye out for this Indochina War stuff.  I'm sure I'm missing something.

Vicki

[The government won't tell how many troops are in South Vietnam since the Geneva Accords that ended the French-Indochinese War restrict the US to 685 troops.  Estimates have the number at 6000, climbing to 9000 by the end of summer.  We are involved in what the papers describe as a "hot war." 

This is bigger than Lebanon, could be as big as Korea before it's over.]

[April 5, 1962] Pen Pals (Letter Column #1)

[The great debate of any magazine (fan or professional) is whether or not to include a letter column.  Obviously, I append reader comments to the article which they reference, but sometimes I get letters of a more general nature.  Since I imagine my readers would like to know their fellow fen, I'm publishing a recently received postcard, this from a charming young lady I met at Condor]

Dear Mr. Marcus:

It was great to see you in San Diego.  The convention was an eye-opener as, to date, I have had little experience with science fiction.  I'm grateful to have the Journey to curate suggested material for me to dive into!

I thought I'd bring you up to date on where I've been since the con. I'm mostly stuck here at Stanford, where I'm about to get my BA (in English Literature, class of… '62?) – if I ever get done with all these papers & exams & work for the soil mechanics & foundation engineering firm I do evenings & weekends.

Of course, to pay the tuition and room & board, I also take in ironing, do tutoring, deliver newspapers, etc., and they helped me get a student loan. It's been a real eye-opener to go to school here. Now I know what "scholarship" means. At the University of Arizona, from which I transferred last year, I did have some great learning experiences, but nothing as rich as this.

Not that I didn't have some great experiences at UA, meeting an English Professor who is an avante-garde composer (Barney Childs), and since I worked in the Fine Arts College I went to most concerts & saw the harpsichord played for the first time (double keyboard!) & heard Barney's music played. (I admit, I have a crush on him — see the enclosed photo.) And then I've been to San Francisco & seen jazz trumpeter Miles Davis & a lot of other stuff.


Barney Childs

I'll be returning, as promised, to Tucson this summer. My mother can't afford to come to commencement here, so I'll just be going home as soon as possible, and back to work in the Drama Department shortly after that. I will miss Stanford, but I look forward to seeing folks in Tucson again. I've been lucky to transfer to Stanford. Fortunately they have a need-blind policy & helped me get the loan and jobs.

I don't usually get to San Diego since I have to drive through Bakersfield, by a convoluted path, to your Highway 80 at El Centro — a long trip!  But I might have to make an exception in the event of another great convention.

Best wishes and thanks to you & your family for a lovely column full of good stuff.

Vicki


(my "Activity Ticket" from the University of Arizona in 1960)

[I'd love to hear from the rest of you out in this gloriously modern year of 1962.  Please feel free to send me your letters.  Tell me about the sf you love, the TV you're watching, your struggles at school or in the workplace.  Your words just might find their way to the Galactic Journey lettercol (especially if your initials are JBK…)]

[Mar. 17, 1962]  Our Knights in Shining Armor (Have Space Suit, Will Travel)

[The Journey's "Fashion Columnist" returns with a timely piece on the latest advancement in sartorial science…]


by Gwyn Conaway

Last month, on February 20th, 1962, John Glenn became the second American to leave behind our earthly constraints for the majesty of space.

Less than one year after Alan Shepard’s historic suborbital flight on a Redstone rocket, John Glenn ascended to low Earth orbit in his spacecraft, Friendship 7. He circled the Earth three times at speeds upwards of 17,000 miles per hour, and persevered through the crushing force of nearly eight times the force of Earth's gravity Gs at reentry into our atmosphere.

What a time to be alive! We are witness to human history! This is a milestone in a long journey toward chasing the unknown. Never have I been more certain that we are explorers, creatures of adventure. And what better bedfellow to our curiosity than innovation?  For to accomplish his mission, Colonel Glenn required two spacecraft: the bell-shaped Mercury, as well as his formfitting personal capsule – the Mark IV spacesuit.

Our newly beloved Space Age is thanks, in no small part, to a little-known mechanical engineer and designer named Russell Colley at B. F. Goodrich Company. Owing to his career-long devotion to high-altitude pressure suits, Colley has been deemed the Father of the Spacesuit, the First Tailor of the Space Age. Mark my words, his Mark IV spacesuits, with their sleek and futuristic design, will inspire generations of fashion to come.

The Mark IV rides on the coattails of many pressure suits designed by Colley and others over the years. Its evolution is a testament to American doggedness and bears the fruits of the unbridled technological advancements in textiles and garment manufacturing we’ve seen through the past decade.


The Post pressure suit, first flown in 1934. This suit had a skewed visor to favor Wiley Post’s one good eye.

Colley first began his groundbreaking work in 1934 when Wiley Post, the aviator who achieved fame through making the first solo flight around the globe, commissioned him to design the world’s first pressurized suit for high-altitude flight. Later the same year, after two failed designs, Colley built a rubber bladder suit with long underwear and a diver’s helmet on his wife’s sewing machine. This suit launched Wiley Post 50,000 ft into the air and jump-started an evolution over the next thirty years that leads us to our current moment of triumph – the Mark IV spacesuits.


John Glenn being fit for his Mark IV, destined to carry him into orbit last month. What once looked like a diver’s suit has now been transformed into a feat of futuristic design and engineering.

From 1941 to 1954, the David Clark Company designed and built twenty pressure suit models for the U.S. Military.  When David Clark’s funding dried up, B.F. Goodrich, where Colley worked, was offered the contract. Colley himself built seven suits at B.F. Goodrich. They started this contract with the Model H (the 8th letter of the alphabet and their 8th suit design, in case you were wondering). Models H through R were built and tested before the company began the Mark series that would take Alan Shepard, Gus Grissom, and now John Glenn into space.

By the time B.F. Goodrich won the bid to build their Mark IV spacesuits in 1961, the U.S. Military and NASA had collectively funded more than forty pressure suit designs across three major engineering companies.


The Mercury 7 in a fitting for their Mark IV space suits. Note the sage green option for the suit in the back right.

The Mark IV, in addition to its sleek name, is a marvel to behold, unlike any other piece of flight equipment I’ve ever seen. Each suit is fitted by Colley in Akron, OH, where he attended to each of the Mercury 7 pilots. The gloves alone come in fifteen sizes: five palm sizes, each with short, regular, or long digits. John Glenn had a new feature added to his gloves specifically for his February flight: tiny lights affixed to the tops of each finger so he could read the instrument panels.


John Glenn shows off his finger flashlights. Also visible in this photo are the only two instances of metal bearings in the entire suit: the neck ring and glove attachments.

Space suits have made incredible strides since his Colley's collaboration with Wiley Post more than thirty years ago. When pressurized, these high altitude suits inflate the interior, pushing in on the human body and out on the suit. This provides the pilot with enough atmospheric pressure to stabilize blood flow to the brain and keeping them conscious during difficult maneuvers. However, once these suits are pressurized, mobility becomes extremely limited, and even bending one’s fingers becomes a task of titanic strength.


Astronauts ‘test’ the Mark IV in a light-hearted ball game. Clearly visible along the outer seams of the arms and legs are Colley’s revolutionary elastic pleating to enhance mobility.

The earliest suits were outfitted with heavy metal hinges at the joints for mobility. In a stroke of genius, Colley departed from metal bearings and joints in the Mark series. Rather, he used adjustable cords and pleats to fold the inflated suit at important junctions. While the cords had originally concerned NASA, they proved invaluable in fittings, where Colley was able to replace the lengths of many of these cords with highly-tailored zippers, elastic seams, and pressure pockets for each pilot.


John Glenn’s waffle-weave long underwear can be seen here as he suits up. The waffling occurs across the back, buttocks, thighs, and biceps in reinforced panels.

It’s a daring, romantic choice. I’m sure I’m not the only one who saw John Glenn walk to his shuttle last month and sigh, “Ah, now there is a knight in shining armor!” I wonder how far into the future Russell Colley’s Mark IV will inspire children, artists, and science fiction? How long will the stamp of America’s Mercury 7 linger on the face of space exploration? Decades? Centuries?

Yuri Gagarin may have beat us to space in April of last year, but the cosmonaut’s orange utility suit will not leave such a glimmer in the eyes of our children. The Russians touched the stars first, but Russell Colley has won the hearts of the people of Earth.

[December 3, 1961] Of Wives and Men (or First Ladies' Fashion)

When I started this endeavor, I never expected to find so many fellow travelers.  Each has provided an unique insight into the worlds of science fiction, comics, science, fandom.  I have tried to balance staying true to my original vision (which is why I promise to keep writing at least a majority of the articles here) with showcasing all of these lovely perspectives. 

A few months ago, I met a remarkable young woman with a keen eye for fashion as well as an uncommon understanding of geopolitics.  The premise of Galactic Journey is that context matters.  This is why I leaven the fiction with nonfiction.  And it's why the Journey now has…a fashion column.  Read on – I think you'll agree that Ms. Conaway is a worthy addition to our constellation of authors…


by Gwyn Conaway

This is a time of change and uncertainty, but we are full to the brim with ambition. We hope for a future of technological mastery. An age of abundance and exploration. We see our society as a beacon of moral and economic high ground. The Reds do too.

You see, I observe the world in patterns of psychology, fear, and desire. I'm a costume designer, and I glean more from fashion trends and wardrobe choices than any newspaper. This shadow of nuclear war hanging over our heads is worrisome, but it seems to me, across the distance of ideology and oceans, that we still dream the same dreams.

“It seemed clear proof that an atom smasher is a poor match for an attractive young lady in a well-fitted blouse.”
The New York Times, Style Show – SRO Soviet Exhibition, NY NY – July 2, 1961

First Lady Jackie Kennedy recently met with Nina Khrushcheva, wife of Nikita Khrushchev, the current Premier of Soviet Russia. While many of my cohorts discussed the new president and the premier’s first encounter in Vienna, I was captured by the meeting of the wives.


Jackie Kennedy and Nina Khrushcheva meet in Vienna, 1961.

Jackie Kennedy wore an elegant black skirt suit, presumably by Coco Chanel. A signature style in her closet, the suit consists of a black silk blouse, a velvet pillbox hat, pencil skirt, and three-button jacket with a three-quarter-length sleeve and delicate lapel. Her pearls are classically understated. She is elegantly reserved, poised for what was sure to be a tense meeting.

What interests me most, however, is the ensemble of Nina Khrushcheva. Her frumpy floral ensemble, designed by Nina Gupalo, is considered a fashion failure around the world. However, what it lacks in style, it makes up for in context.

After World War II, New York quickly overcame Paris as the global leader of fashion. Of course, this means that Russia has spoken out vehemently against the industry. While Americans embrace glamour and beauty, Russian leaders publicly admonish such trends. Instead, they call for art and design that serves the people. In the USSR, utility and function supersede glamour and personal expression these days.

Although Nina Khrushcheva has been an advocate for the fashion industry, her personal style choices have always been dowdy and poorly-composed. Common natural fibres such as cotton and wool combined with boxy tailoring express her loyalty to communist ideals on the global stage.


Madame Khrushcheva invited Christian Dior to Moscow in 1959 for the first fashion show exhibiting Western designers. Here are Dior models in a street show, taken from my old copy of Life Magazine.

This is apparent in an iconic image of former First Lady Pat Nixon and Khrushcheva published on the cover of Life Magazine two years ago on August 10, 1959. Pat Nixon wore a vibrant floral ensemble while her Soviet hosts wore the more utilitarian styles accepted by the Ruskies. What is most compelling about this photograph is not that their respective fashion choices express the ideals of their two nations, but that Nixon’s Russian hostesses appear to be looking in longing at her bold dress and styling.

All three hostesses, Mmes Khrushcheva, Mikoyan, and Kozlov, wear plain-cloth house dresses and skirt suits without jewelry to frame their faces. Much like the communist uniforms of working women and students, their torsos are boxy and loose with minimal darting to shape the bust or waist. Unlike the sweeping pleats of Nixon’s dress, their skirts are straight and simple.


The cover of Life Magazine, August 10 1959

Through this single photograph, the demarcation of both powers’ post-World War ideals is very clear. While all nations limited their consumer goods for the war effort in the 1940s, America and Russia have obviously striven for very different Utopian futures. Pat Nixon’s joyous ensemble expresses America’s newfound abundance; a thriving capitalist economy powered by fast-paced, bold trends conveyed through its loud patterns and colors, the ample use of refined fabrics, and jewelry. Khrushcheva and her comrades, on the other hand, wear the dream of a future that works for the common man, a society of builders rather than consumers, so to speak. Khrushcheva’s fabric, a muted geometric textile, is an homage to this idyllic industrial Russian character.

Now, as I look at Jackie Kennedy and Nina Khrushcheva’s first meeting, I chuckle. Although Khrushchev has worn florals before, this particular ensemble means more. She is not only reaching out to American women through her words of peace and understanding, but also through this Gupalo design. Unlike Khrushcheva’s usual folkish patterns, this floral acts as a bridge across our two nations. By combining an industrial grey and cream palette with an abstract floral pattern, Khrushcheva has extended her hand in a show of unity between the Reds and the West.

Perhaps this is a sign of good things to come in the Kennedy Administration. After all, standing next to every great man is an equally great woman. The distance between ourselves and the Russkies is not insurmountable after all.

[September 3, 1961] Musical interlude


by Gideon Marcus

Galactic Journey is all about spotlighting the exotic, from science fiction to the Space Race.  Sometimes, the far out stuff can be found right here on Earth.  I'm talking about music, man.  Music.

Music is a weird thing.  Unlike evolution in animals, which scientists believe is a smooth, unbroken process, music seems to evolve in sudden spurts.  A genre will be born, flourish, and then become overripe.  That's when another will spawn out of nowhere and supplant the old one.

For instance, in the 30s and 40s, popular music was all about Big Band Jazz.  Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman, they all peaked pre-War and kept us dancing while our boys (and ladies) went to fight the Axis.  After the War, that music evolved into a syrupy, schmaltzy mess.  By 1954, the radio was almost unlistenable, filled as it was with crooning and orchestras. 

Unless you tuned into the Black stations.  There, a fusion of Western and Blues called "Rock n' Roll" was catching fire.  The Crows and Chuck Berry were joined by White performers like Bill Haley, Jerry Lee Lewis, and, of course, Elvis Presley.  All of a sudden, music was alive again.  The late 50s, right around the time I started this column, were an exciting time for listening.

(Don't get me wrong — Jazz was and is still a thing.  Coltrane, Gillespie, Brubeck…just look at the recent popularity of Take Five, for instance.  But it's for hipsters and hepcats, not for the hoi polloi.)

This may be a purely subjective view, but the 60s seem to mark another transition period for popular music.  It seems to be floundering, torn between the classic (and now stale) riffs of the last decade and…something else.  Of course, one rarely knows how a revolution will work itself out until its over, but there are a couple of movements might be indicative of where things are going.

On the one hand, you've got The Miracles with last year's popular tune, Shop Around, and The Marvelettes with their brand new hit, Please Mr. Postman.  These acts show off the Motown Records sound, a Detroit based mix of Pop and Rhythm and Blues.  You can add Bobby Lewis to that list: his Tossing and Turning was probably the hit of this year, and while he now lives in New York, he started his music career in Detroit.  To my ears, the music these acts produce sounds fresh, and it may well become the emblematic sound of the '60s.

On the other hand, you've got instrumental music — what people are calling "Surf Guitar."  If you're not familiar with surfing, it's wave-riding done on a long, flat board.  The Hawaiians made it popular, and it's become an overnight craze here on California's coasts.  A certain kind of music has become identified with it, a lyric-less, guitar-intensive sound. 

Big acts include Link Wray, The Ramrods, and The Ventures.  On the other side of the pond, Cliff Richard and his Shadows have refined the genre to a high art.  Dig their hit single, Apache, in particular.  And don't forget the Swedish Spotnicks!

Surf music is a big departure from the rock of the '50s.  The simple riffs are gone, as are, for the most part, variations on the 12-bar blues (God, may I never hear them again…) In their place are throbbingly energetic, almost raucous tunes.  These songs aren't vehicles for words — they are raw emotion, displays of real musical prowess.

I saw a prime example of one of these guitar masters last night, a local talent who still hasn't cut his first single.  Dick Dale lit up a Vista stage with traditional and original songs, all sizzling with his instrumental virtuosity.  The man is fab. 

Maybe instrumental guitar won't be the "in thing" for the decade.  It probably requires too much skill, and the audience may be too limited (coastal types).  But man alive, I'm sure digging the scene.  I hope it lasts a good while, at least!

Next up…  a report from Worldcon on this year's Hugos!  Will they match my Galactic Stars for 1960?

[August 15, 1961] SEVEN DAYS OF CHANGE (August's UK report)


by Ashley Pollard

The month of August started with cool weather after a warm spring, which is disappointing for those of us who love to get out in the summer sun and lie on the beach. It is the time when the British newspapers are full of light-weight, fun stories in what is known over here as the 'silly season.'

Such fripperies were ended quite suddenly with an array of news from behind the iron curtain, starting with the announcement of Russia’s second manned spaceflight on Monday the 7th of August.

While America has launched two sub-orbital flights in response to Yuri Gagarin’s conquest of space, they have yet to orbit the Earth. Now the Russians surge ahead, upping the excitement in the race to the moon by launching their second cosmonaut Gherman Stepanovich Titov. His call sign was Eagle, I imagine to emphasize his soaring over the world. But perhaps it’s also a poke at the Americans, who have failed to orbit the world with their Mercury capsule.

So, after staying in space for a just over a day, Pilot Cosmonaut Titov is now a Hero of the Soviet Union. During his flight he orbited the world seventeen times, during which time he slept, shot ten minutes of film, and completed various other tasks he had been assigned — proving that men can work in space. Not only that, but at age twenty-six he’s the youngest man in space, too.

For me, Titov’s mission was not just a success for the Russians but the furthering of the dream of travel in space for all mankind. But, I have to ask, how long will it be until the Russians send a woman into space? Perhaps this is a chance for the Americans to get one step ahead of their rivals.

Sadly, Titov's flight was the only good piece of news inspired by the Communists this month. Seven days after Titov’s flight, the Russians upped the ante in the Cold War when Premier Nikita Khrushchev announced the Russians were going to build a wall around Berlin. This rather puts a dampener on things, taking us back to the unpleasantness that started in 1948 when they cut-off access to Berlin by land.

The first signs of action after the announcement was the erection of a barbed wire fence. But this is now being followed by workers building a wall, which seems to me to be a physical manifestation of the cultural divide between free-market capitalism and Russian state controlled centralized planned economy.

Beyond the very real fear I share with everyone regarding the threat of atomic destruction, I must also say that I find Premier Khrushchev’s escalation of tensions between East and West a tantrum tedious beyond belief. I truly doubt that human nature allows for nation states to function as communes that share resources for the good of all. If this act shows us anything it serves only to illuminate the cracks in the Russian Cold War polemic against the West. It's not as if the new Wall has been erected to keep West Germans from fleeing into East Germany.

More to the point, doesn't Khrushchev know this is the silly season? There is only so much heaviness we can stand during the summer!  As for now, despite the disappointingly cool weather, at least we still have a beach to look-visit, ice-cream to eat (we British eat ice-cream even during our cold summers), and once Khruschev has had his fun, hopefully we can return to reading stories of cats stuck up trees being rescued by the nice men from the fire brigade.

And accounts of space shots: as a science fiction fan, I find those an acceptable break from the fluff of the silly season…

[August 10, 1961] A Fair Deal for the Fairer Sex (Women, politics, and The Andy Griffith Show)


by Gideon Marcus

A woman on the City Council?  Say it ain't so!

It's not news that there just aren't a lot of women in politics these days.  Universal suffrage is now 40 years old, but women comprise just 18 out of 437 members of the House of Representatives and 2 of 100 Senators – about 4% and 2%, respectively.  For most of us, that's not an alarming statistic.  That's just the way it's always been.  But for some of us (including this columnist), equal representation can't come soon enough.  After all, when women make up half the population but only 4% of the government, that's a crisis of almost Revolutionary proportions.

I'm not the only one taking a stand, but sometimes support for the cause comes from the unlikeliest of places.

I watch a lot of television, maybe too much.  There's plenty of dross in this "vast wasteland" behind the screen of the idiot box, but there's also gold.  To wit: The Twilight Zone, Route 66, and, surprisingly, The Andy Griffith Show.

I didn't expect much when I started watching this strange little slice-of-life program set somewhere in the southern Appalachians.  It's a broad comedy on the face of it, with Sheriff Andy Griffith's drawl and wide smile and Deputy Barney Fife's pretentious bumbling, but after a few episodes, it became clear that the comedic elements are a sugar coating for deep thoughtfulness.

The other night, I happened to catch a summer rerun from early in the series, back when Griffth's stuttering yokelish portrayal was at its least subtle.  It opens on a picnic where Elinor Walker, the town's new pharmacist (and Andy's recently acquired sweetheart) articulates her disappointment that there are no women running for city council.  Andy slights her concern, noting that the position is called "Councilman," and it'd be silly if a woman held that title.

Ellie, no timid soul, is emboldened rather than discouraged by Griffith's disparagement.  In short order, she acquires the 100 petition signatures needed to put her on the ballot, the first provided by none other than Griffith's own Deputy Fife (speaking of unlikely support)!  The affronted men of Mayberry, North Carolina attempt to stop Ellie's candidacy through supra-political means, refusing the women access to charge accounts at local businesses.  This tactic backfires when the women stop cooking, washing, ironing, and mending (and presumably work a little Lysistrata action in there, too).

The episode's climax begins with a rally downtown.  The women (and a few supporting men) wave signs and shout "We want Ellie!"  Most of the men jeer.  Upset at the strife her running has caused, Ellie visits the Griffith home and tells him, “You won,” and that she will withdraw her candidacy because, “It's just not worth it…when I decided to run I had no intention of starting a Civil War in Mayberry.”

Young Opie Griffith, steeped in his father's latest comments, cheers, "We won, we beat them females!  We kept them in their place.  Us menfolks don't want women running our town, do we, Pa?"

It's a powerful moment that sharply drives home the effect of Andy's ill-considered words.  Ashamed at the example he's set, instead of accepting Ellie's surrender, he heads to the rally in support.  Addressing the assembly, he notes significantly: "We men are against a woman running for council."  The men cheer and applaud, but the sheriff continues, "The woman in this case being Ellie Walker.  Now we're against her because she's a woman.  But, now, when you try to think of any other reason, you kind of draw a blank."

This proves the shot that deflates the balloon, the men acknowledging the point.  Ellie wins the election – how could she not with all the women and many of the men backing her? 

Now, if you're from one of the more progressive parts of the nation that happens to have women in government, you might think the whole problem silly and overblown, the events of the episode a caricature.  But think about the 96% of the country without female representation.  Remember that, in Alabama, women aren't even allowed to serve on a jury!  It's not the situation in The Andy Griffith Show that's implausible — it's the happy ending.

So let's applaud Andy Griffith for showcasing the bias against women in government, and then let's keep working to overcome it, so that one day, some little girl who saw Ellie Walker win a seat on the Mayberry City Council might be inspired to run for Representative or Senator or, dare I say, even President of the United States. 

It's an outcome worth the long fight, even if it takes half a century.

[March 31, 1961] Real-world round-up for March

Here's an end of March, real-world round-up for you before we plunge into the science fiction of April:


http://www.jfklibrary.org/Asset-Viewer/Archives/JFKWHP-AR6454-B.aspx

President Kennedy devoted a good deal of time to the civil war in Laos at his fifth press conference, March 23.  This three-cornered fight between the nationalists (propped up by the United States), the Communist Pathet Lao (backed by the Soviets and the North Vietnamese), and the neutralists has been going on since the end of last year.  The US Navy Seventh Fleet was recently dispatched to the region along with a contingent of troops.  For a while, it looked as if we were looking at another Korea.

I'm happy to report that both Kennedy and Premier Khruschev have now proposed plans for peaceful solutions to the crisis that involve the invading North Vietnamese disarming and going home.  I fervently hope that this means Southeast Asia won't be the site of war in the 1960s.

Speaking of Kennedy and war, the President recently asked Congress for a significantly bigger defense package.  This would see the United States armed with 1200 nuclear-tipped missiles by 1965!

On the dove-ish side of the coin, Kennedy also asked for an increase in the NASA budget for development of the mighty "Saturn C-2", which would facilitate manned flights around the Moon by 1966.

On the subject of space, NASA pilot Joe Walker took the X-15 spaceplane to a record height of 31 miles above the Earth yesterday, more than five miles higher than anyone has flown the craft before.  During a good portion of his 10-minute flight, the plane's stubby wings and control surfaces had nothing to "bite" into, the atmosphere being so rarefied at that altitude.  For all intents and purposes, it was a flight in space, down to the unwinking white stars that filled the daylight sky. 

And he only got halfway to the rocketship's expected maximum altitude!

Meanwhile, the Air Force failed to get into orbit the 22nd in their Discoverer series.  These probes are ostensibly for orbiting and returning biological samples, but they really test components for their Samos spy satellites.  There was supposed to be a monkey on this one, but I haven't read any reports about it.  Perhaps the fly-boys were merciful and just stuffed the spaceship with non-perishable hardware.


http://photos.clevescene.com/28-vintage-photos-karamu-house/?slide=9&children-look-through-a-telescope-at-karamu-house-1961

Now let's look ahead at April.  There will, of course, be the three magazines, IF, Analog, and Fantasy and Science Fiction, the monthly The Twilight Zone round-up, and perhaps a trip to the movies.  I have Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Door Through Space on my bedside table, but it hasn't gripped me yet.  We'll see.

We'll also see more of our new regular columnist, Rosemary Benton, and along those lines, I've got another surprise for you 'round mid-month!

S'okay?  S'alright.

[March 21, 1961] Marching as to Peace

[As promised, here is the first of Rosemary Benton's regular articles for Galactic Journey.  Science ficton is about progress, and not just of the nuts and bolts kind.  Sociological progress is fertile ground for a myriad of stories.  I can easily imagine an intergalactic version of the new development Ms.  Benton writes about below…(the Editor)]

Salutations everyone!  On March 1st our president made good on a proposed project from back in 1960 which we, especially the young, hoped against hope would come to fruition.  The Peace Corps, a volunteer organization tasked with providing technical assistance and fostering cultural exchange abroad, is now a reality.  Granted, it is only on a trial basis, but the enthusiasm that the very concept has generated has been momentous. 

Sharron Perry is one such prospective volunteer I had the pleasure to meet when visiting the campus for a prospective job offer at the university library.  A succinct and highly motivated lady, she told me all about this revolutionary new federal program that was started just earlier this month.  As a conscientious objector and active member of her university's organization, Americans Committed to World Responsibility, Sharron is a graduating senior who seems to vibrate with the energy that embodies her age group.  She was nice enough to share with me the following letter which she hopes will galvanize other young people at her school, the University of Michigan, to join her on this new adventure. 

Perhaps she will motivate you, as well:

3/20/1961

To the current students, upcoming graduates and alumni,

I hope that you read this opinion piece with a desire for a sense of purpose in your life–a sense of dignity, respect and compassion for your fellow man.  As the school year draws to a close and our paths take us outside of the walls of our alma mater, I find that I am cornered in a difficult position not unknown to our generation.  To survive and flourish by the principles of goodwill and hard work, but at the same time to serve our country, our people, and live for the betterment of the world.  As the next generation of Americans – the next line of teachers, doctors, and civil engineers – it is our honor bound duty and privilege to serve our country and fellow man. 

But to serve and protect through the military is no longer the only honorable path, and it is no longer only a man's prerogative.  Wouldn't it be better to have our men serve their turn of duty through a less destructive, more diplomatic means that will encourage societies throughout the third world to turn away from the Soviets? Women of America, wouldn't it be better to offer much needed assistance abroad while traveling the world? With Janet G. Travell holding the position of physician to the president, the first woman to hold this station, shouldn't we strive to break even more boundaries? Americans of all races, shouldn't we support a federal organization which will not segregate and discriminate against our heritages? Our newly elected president challenged us University of Michigan students on October 14, 1960 to imagine such a global service, and now in March 1961 he has given us the opportunity to put the same enthusiasm we had for the idea into practice.  It is up to our generation to rise to this challenge.  As President Kennedy said at 2 AM in front of the University of Wisconsin Union, "On your willingness to do that, not merely to serve one year or two years in the service, but on your willingness to contribute part of your life to this country, I think will depend the answer whether a free society can compete."

The philosopher William James wrote in his essay The Moral Equivalent of War, that "the gilded youths" should hold a responsibility to serve in order for them "to come back into society with healthier sympathies and soberer ideas".  As we leave behind the safety of student life, heads full of new and exciting ideas, we too must go out and come back to our native land with a better understanding of the challenges that will be posed to America in the coming decade.  To be better Americans we must know the world.  "Unless you comprehend the nature of what is being asked of you, this country can't possibly move through the next 10 years in a period of relative strength."

As a conscientious objector I will be wearing my black arm band this May at my class' graduation.  As a woman I will wear the black arm band because I intend to rise to President Kennedy's challenge, and peacefully fight against the perception that America can only fight through the CIA.  We students graduating in 1961 are very lucky to have been offered an honorable alternative to the draft.  Us students lucky enough to have spent our educational lives in a school as progressive as the University of Michigan, with our study abroad program and our campus organizations like Americans Committed to World Responsibility, now must act upon our belief in sustainable peace.  It is not merely a choice to volunteer for the Peace Corps, but an obligation of our generation.


The letter and its writer are fictional, but nevertheless representative.

[Nov. 8, 1960] Across the Finish Line (the 1960 Presidential Election results)

At long last, the contest is over.  Not since the 1876 clash between Hayes and Tilden for this nation's highest office have the results been this close; it was not until this morning that anyone could really be sure who would be taking possession of the Oval Office in January 1961.

In fact, as I took in a late lunch yesterday, the big IBM computer at CBS had already predicted a Nixon win with overwhelming confidence.  This was an artifact of the flow of voting in this country: the day belongs to the Republican voter–it is only when the Democratic voter clocks out of his urban, blue-collar job that the tide begins to shift. 

By dinnertime, CBS' big brain had switched opinions based on the torrent of Kennedy votes streaming in from the Northeastern seaboard and the big Eastern cities.  New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago all threw the balance of their support for the Democratic candidate.  Just as the tide was cresting, President Eisenhower took to the airwaves exhorting me and my fellow West-Coasters not to give up the fight (the message was lost on me, of course; I'd voted that morning). 

Because the contest was not yet over.  The Senator from Massachusetts had acquired a hefty lead, but it was slowly eroded as the night went on.  When the polls closed in California, it became clear fairly quickly that the Union's second largest state was still undecided.  The Los Angelinos had not followed the example of the other big cities, their ardor for Kennedy moderated by their fondness for native son Nixon.  By midnight Pacific Time, when I decided to turn in (I still had work the next day, after all), the fate of the presidency rested on four states: Michigan, Minnesota, Illinois, and California.

It was all over when I turned on the news at around 8.  Kennedy had won Minnesota.  California and Illinois canceled each other out.  Michigan had gone Democratic at around 3 AM, putting a seal on the event.  When all was said and done, the national margin was only about 100,000 votes, barely .1% of the electorate.  At first blush, this result flies in the face of the wild enthusiasm that greeted Kennedy wherever he toured.  But elections in this country are not dictated by the mob, and Nixon's supporters were bound to be more "conservative" in their exuberance.

I'm still processing this victory in my thoughts and feelings.  A year ago, the Vice President seemed a shoe-in.  All he had to do was ride the coattails of Eisenhower prosperity.  Senator Kennedy was too untested, too highfalutin to be a winner.  And yet, after the TV debates, no one could argue that Jack Kennedy wasn't ready for the Big Leagues.  Nixon's tone became more bitter and defensive.  It was hard to imagine this angry man carrying on the tradition of his gentle, moderate predecessor.  Despite this, both men fought with tenacity to the very end, and the outcome was never certain until it was upon us.

And so the 1960 election ends with the country divided sharply, not just demographically, but physically.  Nixon swept the West and Appalachia.  Kennedy won the Northeast and South.  Yet, it is a testament to how far we've come since the election just a century ago that the losing half of the populace will not riot or secede.  In two months, they will give their respect and reverence (though perhaps with a modicum of grumbling) to the new President. 

The burgeoning Space Race, decolonization, Communist expansionism, and desegregation are going to be the volatile issues of the 1960s.  Let's all hope that President Kennedy, whether he's in the White House for four or eight years, will be up to tackling them.