Once again, being busy and fully engaged in living my life, I had little time to devote to writing about it, although I have found a diary entry about a lunch with Peyton Stapp at the Cosmos Club for Thursday, January 9, 1969.
Peyton, a senior advisor for those in “Building 1,” invited me for our monthly conversation about my career development. That day’s enticement was to assess my interest as director of the Statistics and Analysis Branch of the DRG. The additional carrot was a GS-15 level appointment. I was currently the Chief of the Analysis and Evaluation Branch of the NIAMD, an advancement I had taken two years ago within the Institute. At present I had control of all of the Institute’s data for all of the grants we made. Peyton was proposing a similar role for the entire NIH.
The Cosmos Club was a private social club founded in 1878. Originally it was where the cultural and professional elite men of Washington could gather for drinks, discussion and meals. It had the appearance of the venues seen in old movies. There were well-worn, deep-red carpets, leather reading chairs, dark portraits, male dining rooms, efficient service and the air of the “Establishment” for which it existed. In my notes I wrote that all of this interaction and its location were “… amusing and instructive to this little old 2nd generation WOP who finds himself with a case of Potomac fever.” I did not follow-up on Peyton’s offer, but I did enjoy the occasional lunch with him at the Cosmos Club.
My notes also indicate that two weeks later I happened to meet Dr. Tsoo King in the snack room at the Westwood Building. Dr. King was the person whose negative interactions with me had led directly to my current association with the NIH. He was in town for some meetings at the NSF and thought he should “make nice” with the science administrator in charge of his NIH grant funding. It was ironic, meeting with him in my current role with the Feds.
Interactions with my former colleagues were not uncommon. Two days after my chance meeting with Tsoo, I had a telephone call from Dr. Lucile Smith, my mentor at Dartmouth Med. She called about her own grant funding which had not been renewed during the latest round of competitive reviews. Given the cutbacks in the NIH budgets at that time, this was not an unusual occurrence.
Years ago, when Lucile had learned that I was interested in leaving “active” science to become an administrator, she felt I had “deserted” my destiny, a destiny which she had a part in forming, and I was now abandoning. The feeling was not uncommon for many with whom I had trained. To leave the academic life of research and teaching was a complete betrayal. Becoming a scientist-administrator in charge of the disbursement of funds in support of their efforts was only slightly more acceptable than becoming an investigator in a pharmaceutical house where you received a salary for your work.
My notes also show that the evening of the day Lucile called was when I attended a meeting of the informal Science and Public Policy discussion group of which I was a member. Although there were a half-dozen or so of us from different governmental agencies who met monthly, this evening only Dick Chapman, from the National Academy of Public Administration, Mel Bolster, from the Personnel Management Office, NIH, and Peter Rumsey, from the Research and Development desk of the Department of Defense, Bureau of the Budget came to my house on Flint Rock Road. (Karen spent the evening with Bob and Sally!) During the years, the discussion group dissolved as each of us became more involved with our actual work and had less time to discuss the theory of what we did. Not only journal writing is driven out by the mundane. Thoughtful discussion of what might be accomplished by your work can be outweighed by the act of doing the work, itself.
The last entry for 1969 was written on January 20. “No work today since it was Inauguration Day for Richard M. Nixon as 37th President of the U.S. Watched the ceremonies and parade on TV. Some year we might go Down Town for it. The day was cold & dreary – fitting for some moaners, I guess. I’m not really one of them. Although I voted for HHH – and why, I’m not sure, I have no animosity toward RMN. I guess last Nov. my feeling was I couldn’t with consistency vote for Nixon, since I once voted for Kennedy. How has Nixon changed in the last 8 years? He must have (or I must have), since 8 years ago I was very anti-Nixon. But why not give him a chance to see what he does or does not do?
“Today I did feel sorry for HHH – on TV he looked quite discouraged. Lb., on the other hand, seemed to really mean it when he answered a reporter’s question: “How can a President leaving office be happy?” with the response: “Well, I am!” My guess is that in the coming days, Johnson’s popularity as a former President will increase. He may be another Truman, vilified during his term and beloved afterwards.”
So much for my political observations!
Edit note: This recollection from 1969 was written on January 17, 2019, for the next meeting of our “Legacy in Words” group at Eagle’s Trace. The date of editing it for inclusion in “Cameos and Carousels” is January 8, 2021, two days after the “Four Hour Insurrections” of January 6 when the Trumperians marched on the Capitol, at the urging of the current-but-soon-to-be-former President Donald Trump, and, upon entering the chambers, engaged in acts of vandalism not seen since the British invasion of 1814. I believe there is (or should be) a greater concern about the “peaceful transition of power” two weeks from now, then there was five decades ago! That period saw the Impeachment of Nixon. Some would like to see Mr. Trump’s “Second Impeachment!” within the limited days he has left in this First Term. I’m happy that we, personally, do not have a current “Life in Washington.” All we need to worry about, directly, is the current COVID-19 pandemic! One virus is sufficient.