LOOKING J.D.

More Searches

HAVING JUST READ JANE HODGES' article about failing to locate J.D. Salinger [September], I am prompted to share an anecdote of how I succeeded in finding the author, but also found out something more important about myself.

I was one of the heads of the Film Society, which Mr. Salinger would inconspicuously attend from time to time. Blair Watson allowed me to edit and mix my first documentary in the attic of Fairbanks Flail. The film was screened on PBS, won several awards, and was the basis for my admittance to the American Film Institute. There I wrote and directed a short film that won an Academy Award—which brings me back to J.D.Salinger.

Having just read Franny and Zooey for the 12 th time, I found myself over a Christmas vacation visiting my former commune-mates in Bellows Falls, Vermont, across the river from Salinger's famed hideout. I set out to offer him my film as a gift. I located the house easily As I climbed the steep driveway, a dog raced at me, but I remember thinking, "My intentions are pure," and the dog stopped barking and followed me up to the house.

I knocked at the front door. When no one answered, I went around to the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a figure staring out at me from behind a curtain, through a side window. He quickly disappeared, but after a while Mr. Salinger, looking like a handsome but haunted version of John Houston, opened the back door. He asked me what I wanted. I said something and shoved the print of my film at him. I asked him if he'd watch it and to share any criticisms. He answered he would look at it, then courteously but firmly closed the door leaving me there on the back porch with an odd feeling of having violated someone. I suddenly realized one of the reasons J.D. Salinger had become a recluse was because of people like me. A sadder but wiser man slipped down the steep and somewhat icy driveway followed by the now tail-wagging "attack" dog.

A postscript: I did receive the print back with a letter which I include. If anything, I hope it will discourage all other "pure-hearted" trespassers or journalists looking to write stories of love and squalor or similar non-events. As a way of encouraging all fellow admirers of the great American author to read him, read into him, but not to "find" him, I enclose this piece of literary trivia, published here for the first time.

Mr. Werner:

I'm afraid that when it comes to dramatic intentions—describing somethingthat happens and the people to whom, ithappens—l think entirely in words, sentences, paragraphs, the small (but impeccable) theater inside the head of thereal or imaginary ideal private reader,which is to say that I never, but never,think in terms of interpretive performances, actors, directors, etc., and therefore, surely, I'm in no practical wayqualified to judge film-making or stagecraft.

For your own convenience—andmine, too, of course—please don't give meany further professional consideration.

Most sincerely, and good wishes toyou.—fDS

BRENTWOOD, CALIFORNIA

THE ARTICLE BY JANE HODGES about her search for J.D. Salinger was very beguiling. It had a Catcher inthe Rye quality to it. I was astonished to see the name Trebitsch come up as a mysterious personage connected, at least in her mind, with the elusive Salinger.

One of the most exotic personalities of the early twentieth century was Ignacz Trebitsch, whose life was profiled in a book entitled The Secret Livesof Trebitsch Lincoln, written by Bernard Wasserstein and published by Penguin Books in 1988. Trebitsch was of Hungarian Jewish origins, and his career path included being an Anglican priest in Montreal, a member of the British Parliament, an alleged German intelligence agent, and finally a Buddhist abbot in China.

The book is a good read, particu- larly for those with a bent toward shadowy figures. Wasserstein says in his book that he has been in touch with several of Trebitsch's relatives who live in this country. In view of the front-page coverage accorded the name of Trebitsch, I thought I would provide you and Ms. Hodges with a possible farther line of investigation.

WYNNEWOOD, PENNSYLVANIA

Watch Suzanne

FROM ONE ENGLISH MAJOR TO another, a few words of appreciation to Suzanne Leonard '96 for "Knowing the Dead" (Undergraduate Chair, September). A sensitive, imaginative piece, ascending to a perfect concluding sentence.

Expect to start seeing her byline all over the place in a few years.

HASTINGS-ON-HUDSON, NEW YORK

Friends of Eu

THANK YOU FOR GIVING, IN THE voice of Everett Wood ["Tales from the Info Booth," September], a wonderful flavor of Dartmouth as I know it: songs, clay pipes, and all. We've been friends since the 1950s when we hunted together with Corey Ford and Dan Holland all about Hanover, for ruffed grouse and woodcock; and fished Pleasant Lake and Mink Brook with Sid Haywood, the secretary of the College. Ev, or "Woodie" to me, is instrumental in my writings, and a part of my forthcoming book, Doc Hall's Journal which includes stories of other Dartmouth outdoorsmen, for example Robert H. Smith '33, U.S. Fish & Wildlife pioneer pilot and the author of Native Troutof North America.

Central Point, Oregon

I ENJOYED EVERETT WOOD'S ARticle as much as any I can remember. His marvelously written little vignettes show his intellect, veracity, depth of knowledge, and great sensitivity to fellow humans.

But he really shouldn't be stumped by the preacher's question (Fifth Tale). There is only one way to get into heaven. Anyone who knows but a scintilla of the Gospel message should be able to answer that you must "believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved," and that Jesus has told us that "no one comes to the Father except through me." (Though these are quotes, it is usually best to use one's own words. I have purposely omitted the references, because others, like me, hate having chapter and verse quoted at them.)

It doesn't take a theological degree or a reversed collar or any particular denominational leaning to know and ad-here to this basic bit of Christian doctrine. As for snakes, we surely run across enough in our daily travels that we should not have to seek out more on Sundays.

I really hope the man in the information booth will never again feel the need to refer this question to higher authority.

NEWTOWN, CONNECTICUT

Meyer's Impact

I WAS DELIGHTED TO READ PRES- ident Freedman's article on Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer '52 ["Presidential Range," September].

Marsh Meyer made a big impact on me at a critical moment in my freshman year. The time had arrived for Professor Dargan's English 2 class to begin work on its first major term paper. My room-mate had dismissed the paper as "an exercise in procedure, not an exploration of a significant topic." I was, however, seduced by the idea of writing something consequential about Judaism. A member of the class of's2 suggested that I talk with Marsh Meyer.

Marsh observed that the Sabbath would offer an insight into the religious soul of Judaism, and that Abraham Heschel's recently published book, The Sabbath, would be a good place to begin research. I found The Sabbath in the stacks, read it standing up because it was too absorbing to allow time to sit down, and had the great good fortune to discuss the book that night with Dr. Heschel, who happened to be in town to lecture Great Issues on the subject of the Sabbath.

Next Saturday I ran into a snag while composing the paper. "Time to go see Marshall," I thought.

When I arrived at his room, it was darkened except for one dim reading lamp attached to an upper bunk.

"Are you here, Marshall?"

"Yes, but you must understand I'm keeping the Sabbath."

Marshall did come down from the bunk and explained briefly the benefits of meditating during Sabbath. I learned more than words can convey from intruding upon a Sabbath being genuinely observed. From the term paper, and above all from Marsh Meyer, came the beginning of my lifelong respect and admiration for the religion of Israel.

NEWTON, NEWJERSEY

The Reverend Herring is anEpiscopal priest.

Witches and Admissions

POSSIBLY I AM OVERREACTING TO "Sex and The Devil" (September '94 Syllabus by Karen Endicott, faculty editor) because of repressed aggression toward the Admissions Department. Last spring it rejected my daughter for the class of '98. However, associating the topic of (a) seventeenth-century witchcraft with (b) a treatise on sex dis-crimination seems like someone has been in Hanover too long.

With the myriad of topics to fill several pages of the Alumni Magazine, "Sex and the Devil" eases my guilt that I am not contributing my class dues this year. I am scheduled to receive counseling on PRC ("progeny rejection-complex") coupled with therapy to understand "admissions misogyny" (as selectively performed by the witches of McNutt Hall). Until this is resolved, I will continue contributing to Williams College where my daughter is one of several Purple Cow '98s on the women's varsity soccer team.

NEW CANAAN, CONNECTICUT

Scruffy Class

IN THE SUMMER ISSUE IS A PICTURE of members of the class of 1874 nicely dressed and giving the appearance of having respect for tradition, custom, manners, and discipline—a fine group of men.

Then there is a picture of members of the class of 1994 in ragtag attire, leaving the impression that they have no respect for tradition, custom, manners, or discipline—a motley group of ragamuffins.

To cast an unfavorable cloud on the men of 1874 and to clothe the people of 1994 in a sort of divine sunshine is nutty.

I salute the intelligence of the members of the class of 1994. I lament their disdain for tradition, custom, manners, and discipline. Besides that, when I look at the picture of the members of this class, I fear they are guilty of visual pollution.

I am as aware as you are that the way people dress is in a sense sort of a superficial aspect of their character, but it is not without some indication of what lies in the soul.

Upon further study, I spy three, I think, of the 1994s who would qualify for the class of 1874.

ENGLEWOOD, COLORADO

Going the Distance

ROBERT SULLIVAN'S ARTICLE ON Bob Kempainen '88 [Summer] was outstanding. As a former member of the Dartmouth cross-country and track-and-field-teams and a teammate of Bob's, I am pleased that he is receiving the recognition he so deserves.

I had the honor of having Bob as my captain freshman year and the privilege of running with him as he prepared for the Olympic Trials in '91 and '92.1 have seen that it is possible to reach a high level of success in more than one arena of life through strong determination and dedication.

I still compete in track while going to graduate school and I use him as a role model for trying to ride out some of the rough times. Bob is an inspiration to all of us from Dartmouth who knew him—an awesome student-athlete who could compete with best of the scholarship athletes in college and now with the best marathoners in the world.

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

What About Rocky?

AFTER READING ALL OF DARTmouth's Gifts to the World that you recounted in April, I have to ask:

What was Nelson Rockefeller '30, four-time governor of (at that time) the nation's largest state, Vice President of the United States, builder of the bridge between Americans and the peoples of Latin America, and several times serious contender for the Presidency? Was he not a Gift to the World?

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA