MORE TRAVEL, PART THREE #48

The staff was very happy about our move out of the city. The city of Detroit was experiencing the same thing many other cities were: the move to the suburbs. Detroit was the automobile manufacturing capital of the world; however the higher echelon of workers started to move into the suburbs, which were expanding further and further outside the city. This left the lower echelon workers and a large influx of people, mostly from the south, to take up the space of those who fled to suburbia. The assembly line of auto manufacturing needed workers who could handle single tasks on the line. The unions were very strong, wages were high, and benefits assured workers of uncommon security. This attracted a great number of black workers from southern states with limited education, who naturally wanted to share in the American dream. In no time at all, Detroit became a mostly black city. Nearby cities such as Dearborn had curfews; all black people could not be in that city after dark. Thank God those days are mostly behind us, but, in the 60's, this was one of the reasons behind the race riots.

Now I had to find a place for our KLM office. You will recall that I was working with Dick Robinson, owner and publisher of Impresario Magazine, on a performing arts tour of Eastern Europe. We had over 30 people signed up; Dick and his wife were going to travel with the group as tour conductors. Dick was a handsome man in his forties and his wife a very attractive lady who shared Dick's love and appreciation for the performing arts. They had three great teenagers, two boys and a girl. Back in those days, airlines were not permitted to give free transportation in exchange for business. A few of the international airlines got around that ruling by offering employment to the person who was responsible for generating passengers. This was carefully implemented as no one wanted it to get out of hand. I was able to hire Dick's wife as a "part time" sales Representative. As an employee, she and her husband were able to give obtain free passes to accompany their group. The tour cost per person was over $4,000. There were only three couples signed up, the rest were mostly wealthy women, either widows or wives of Auto executives, except for one lady who had saved her salary as a housekeeper all her life; and loved the performing arts. You'll learn more about the participants as we go along.

It was early September when I got the news that Luke Asjes was returning to Amsterdam to become a KLM V.P. in Amstelveen, our home office location, not far from Schiphol Airport. Schiphol was the location of a very large KLM airfreight terminal where all incoming airfreight was sorted and redirected to its final destination. KLM's maintenance base was also there, and it was state of the art. You could eat off the floor, it was so clean. Engine technicians wore white uniforms and all our mechanics were trained at Pratt and Whitney Aircraft, in East Hartford, Connecticut. I was going to miss Luke Asjes. He was a tough, but very fair individual. Luke Asjes, Roger Ackley and Luke's replacement, Arne Duyf, came to Detroit and we had lunch together at the Press Club. Duyf was a very likeable man who had been in sales for KLM for a number of years. He was following the path of other Dutch employees, destined for a higher position in the future. The USA was a very important destination for the company. Besides New York, Miami, Houston and Los Angeles, KLM had in mind other cities which they would like to serve.

It was just about the middle of the month when Dick Robinson told me that he was taking his family to upper Michigan for a short vacation. He expected to be back in about a week or so. His Impresario Magazine organized tour was due to leave on the 29^th. It was a pretty busy time for me. It seemed that I had a lot going on. I was working with Chrysler on a large group; there were a number of DIS charters to handle at the airport. I had fired one of my Sales Reps and was trying to interview a replacement. I also had some people from the head office who were interested in how we handled the Dutch Immigrant Soc. Charters and wanted to see how we did it; they wanted to meet with John Witte, of the D.I.S. In any event, time was flying and I needed to talk with Dick Robinson about his tour. We usually had lunch together every couple of weeks, but I had been so busy we hadn't spoken all month. I called his office and talked with Joe Scolara, his office manager and assistant. He told me that Dick had not returned from Northern Michigan, yet. I asked if he had a telephone number for Dick; he said that their cabin didn't have a telephone, but not to worry as Dick often stayed out of communication with him. He was sure Dick would show up soon.

It was just a few days later when some hikers were passing Dicks Cabin up north; they knocked on the door, but no one answered. They noticed an open window and looked inside; they could see people laying on the floor and a very bad odor coming from inside. They ran to find a phone and notify the police. Joe Scolara called and told me that Dick, his wife, and three children had all been murdered, shot to death in their cabin. I was shocked and bewildered over the tragedy. Why would anyone kill an entire family, just like that? Over the next few days the Detroit papers were full of speculation: had it been a mob killing? Apparently there were some questions about Dick's background, but nothing came of that. Then I had to go to Chicago for a series of meetings and I had to figure out what I was going to do about Dick's tour. I talked it over with Roger Ackley and Arne Duyf; their answer was that, since I had helped organizing the tour and knew all the participants, I should escort it. Now, who wouldn't give up their eye teeth to take a trip like that? Not me. I didn't want to do it, however there was just no one else that made any sense. I sent in my passport to New York and the staff obtained all the visas I would need. I arranged with my secretary to contact all the tour participants and tell them that I would be escorting them; she should arrange for one of our sales reps to be at the Detroit airport to see the group off, and I would join them when they arrived at Kennedy Airport. The reason for this was that I was already going to be in New York attending the farewell party for Luke Asjes. On top of this, I had a telephone call from Joe Scolara; he told me that he was the chief suspect in the murder of Dick, but he swore that he had not done it. Joe wanted to have lunch with me but, there was no time before I had to leave for New York. We agreed that we would have lunch together when I returned.

So far, 1967 had been quite a year, and I still had to find a new location outside of Detroit for our office. It was also of concern to me that this tour was going to take me away from my family again. Also, I didn't know what I would find out from Joe Scolara upon my return.

LOTS OF TRAVEL PART TWO #47

It certainly was fortunate that fellow Rotarian, Dr. Whitley decided to travel with us on our little adventure to France and North Africa. I don't know what I would have done without him; probably end up in a hospital in Lisbon. As happened, I ended up in the St. Claire Shores hospital for almost a week. But, now I was back to work and lots to do.

On June 17^th, we set a record with the Dutch Immigrant Soc. We had two inbound and two outbound charters for them. Almost 800 DIS members, 400 coming back from Amsterdam and 400 departing, fortunately I was able to get some New York airport staff to come to Detroit to help out.

When I came to Detroit I made the acquaintance of Rudi Postmaa. Rudi had attended University in Michigan and upon graduation had opened a travel agency in Grand Rapids. His father, who had been a teacher in Holland, owned a travel agency that specialized in student travel. Since I had been so involved with the University of Hartford in setting up Spanish language courses in Barcelona Spain, and Smith College with their travel to Ethiopia, I found that we had a great deal in common. I could handle the transportation side of travel and I needed someone I could work closely with on arranging the land portion such as hotels, transfers, sightseeing, etc. Our working relationship and friendship made a good team. I could make a contact such as I did with Chrysler Corp. management club. I convinced them that a group flight for their Management club members would be a fun thing to do during Chryslers two week vacations close down. I then brought in Rudi to handle the land arrangements. The result was I had 45 people flying to Europe on KLM.

Rudi Postmaa handled the land arrangements for my Eastern European group with Impresario Magazine. This was a performing Arts Tour that I have mentioned previously. It was not an easy program to set up as it entailed performance tickets to the Bolshoi, in Moscow, The St. Petersburg Ballet School in (Stalingrad in those days) St. Petersburg, as well as performances in other Eastern Europe cities. In Moscow we were able to get a special dinner set up with a number of Bolshoi Ballet performers. This relationship with Rudi resulted in KLM getting business from him. As a good Dutchman, Rudi would always put his personal groups that he had sold, through my office and on KLM. It was one hand washes the other, except we had also developed a personal friendship. I would often visit his father when I was in Amsterdam.

One very great surprise happened on July 23^rd. when a police raid on an unlicensed liquor bar called "a blind pig" resulted in the infamous race riots of 1967. It was hard to believe the chaos that ensued. Rioters broke into stores and made off with furniture, clothing, and food and just about anything they could lay their hand on. What made it worse was that the mayor told the police not to fire and to stay back. He believed that it would not grow as it did. At one point, the rioters were sniping at cars on the expressway. Since the KLM office was in the middle of downtown Detroit, on Monday the 24^th, I decided to drive down to my office to see if we had any damage. I was under the impression that the riot was pretty well over. I was sitting in my office looking out at all the damage when an army tank came around the corner. Crouching behind the tank were several National Guard troops with rifles at the ready. It didn't take long for me to get to my car and get out of there. Here are a few pictures that may give you an idea of the devastation.

 

 

It was Wednesday the 26^th before we could reopen the office and it took weeks for the city to clean up everything and get back to normal.

The riot pretty well made up my mind for me. I had been toying with the idea of moving our office out of Detroit into one of the suburbs. The girls of our staff did not feel safe in downtown. We would often encounter derilicks sleeping in the lobby of our building and others hanging around pan handling. The Gateway Center building was in the center of downtown. Eastern Air lines also had an office on the same floor as us. British Airways was across the street and several other airlines were in nearby buildings. I had broached the subject at one of our Detroit Air Line Managers meeting and found that most wanted to stay where they were. There seemed to be some unwritten law that mandated all air lines be in the same area. In any event, I called Roger Ackley in Chicago and aprised him of my desire to move our office and asked him to set up a meeting with Luke Asjes in New York for the three of us to discuss my proposal. I had already filled in Roger and had no objection from him. When we met with Asjes, he listened to my reasons for wanting the move and told me to go ahead and get several proposals as to where I would relocate. He agreed with me that our location was not acceptable. All I had to do now was find the new location.

Unknown to me at the time, fate was to play a roll in our relocation.

 

LOTS OF TRAVEL, NOT ALL OF IT EXPECTED, PART ONE #46

You will remember my joining the St. Clair Shores Rotary Club. I don't recall how many Rotary Clubs there are in Michigan, but I think I visited every one of them. Rotarians enjoy visiting each other's clubs. When traveling in the USA or abroad, Rotarians try to visit the closest club to where they are staying. Each club has a small silk flag showing its name and all try to create logos and images to represent their town. The Marathon Rotary Club's flag, for instance, is blue with gold edging, giving their club's name and a picture of a sailfish, representing the great fishing in the area of Marathon, in the Florida Keys. All members who travel have a supply of flags and when visiting another club, they exchange flags. The visiting Rotarian is always recognized and introduced by the local president, who presents him the local flag and is given a flag from the visitor's club, in return. When Rotarians return home, they will present the newest flag to the Home Club members, who will then mount it on a large banner that is displayed at the weekly meetings. When visiting a club it is impressive to see all the flags from all over the world displayed. This is particularly noticeable in large cities like Miami, New York, Amsterdam, or London.

I had decided that I wanted to go to the Rotary International Convention in Nice, France. So on May 16, 1967 Helen and I, along with a fellow Rotarian Dr. Whitley and his wife, flew from Detroit to New York, Amsterdam and on to Paris, where we spent four days. Then, on the 20^th, we flew from Paris to Nice. The convention was a great experience; we met Rotarians from all over the world. The International President gave a stirring report on Polio Plus, Rotary's project to eradicate polio from the world. There were a number of seminars about Rotary that you could attend, and many of the Rotary Clubs presented projects that they were undertaking. I remember one African club that was involved in drilling wells and providing hand pumps to obtain clean drinking water. Another club was providing medical care to infants in a South American country. We attended several special luncheons and dinners with outstanding Rotarian speakers talking about the goals of Rotary in the world. During these luncheons, clubs from around the world were recognized for their accomplishments.

Leaving Nice, France on May 23^rd, the four of us flew to Casablanca, in Morocco. I had always wanted to see that part of the world after seeing the Bogart movie of the same name. Casablanca was very interesting, especially the colorfully dressed water sellers dispensing a cup of water from a goatskin bag. Walking down the narrow winding alleys of Kasbah, we saw interesting street merchants, selling just about everything.

After three days in Casablanca, we decided to rent a car and drive south to Marrakesh, gateway to the Western Sahara Desert. If Casablanca was colorful, Marrakesh was even more so. We stayed in the old historic Mamounia Hotel; rooms had beautiful balconies overlooking spectacular gardens and pools. Winston Churchill called the Mamounia Hotel his favorite hotel where he could get away from it all. He would spend hours in the gardens, with his easel, painting the beautiful flowers. Over the walls of the garden, you could see camel caravans heading for the Sahara. We always enjoyed having breakfast on our balcony and sharing it with the multi colored small birds that perched on the balcony awaiting your departure, so that they could pick up any stray crumbs.

The square in Marrakesh was like a circus: snake charmers handled poisonous Cobras and other nasty reptiles. I was brave enough to have a deadly snake placed around my neck. I have often wondered if the Arab had the poison removed, or did I risk my life? I am sure it was the former? Or was it? Anyhow, I'm still alive. The local dentist in his Arab robes sat upon a carpet; all around him were various teeth that he had extracted. Another Arab was the writer of letters. For a small fee you could dictate a letter to be mailed to some distant relative. Over on the other side of the square was a story teller, and dozens of white robed men and some veiled women listened intently to the story he was telling. There to the side was the fortune teller, who, for a coin or two, would tell your fortune in the sand. We stayed two days in Marrakesh. Our dinner on the last night was at the Mamounia; sitting cross-legged on a low stool and carpet, we ate chicken from a common bowl and drank mint tea. All this was very exotic, but somewhat uncomfortable, for four American tourists.

Returning to Casablanca, all of agreed that our short stay in Morocco would be long remembered as a truly interesting experience. Little did I know that, years later, I would make the same trip again? For now we were off to Las Palmas for a couple of days, then on to Lisbon for an overnight, then on to New York, and home. However, I had a rather unpleasant experience to go through. On arrival in Lisbon, Portugal, we checked into the famous Ritz Hotel. I had a history of kidney stones which are extremely painful and had been hospitalized several times for their removal. Just about the time we got to our room at the Ritz, I doubled over in pain. Helen called Dr. Whitley whose room was just down the hall, and he came running. Fortunately, he had some very strong pain pills which he administered and suggested that I take a very hot bath, with the hopes that it would pass through my system. The three of them went out to dinner and I headed to my hot bath. The next morning I seemed fine, and we went to the airport for our flight to New York, on Iberian Airlines. The flight had barely taken off when that excruciating pain returned. The stewardess was about to tell the Captain to turn back, when Helen asked her to page Dr. Whitley, who was sitting further back in the rear. He had thoughtfully put a few pain pills in his pocket that morning, which he quickly administered. He fed me the pills several times during the flight and I guess I was pretty well out of it until we arrived at the Detroit airport. I was so bad that I could hardly stand up. Dr. Whitley called an ambulance and I was taken to the St.Clair Shores hospital where they removed the stone the following day. Is there a moral to this story? The only one I could think of was, don't leave home without your Doctor. When I got out of the hospital I asked Dr. Whitley to write me a prescription for those pills, and I never travelled out of the country without them.

Well, 1967 is still not over and this blog is getting too long, I'll just have to tell you about the Detroit riots and another unexpected European trip, 1967 sure was full of surprises.

 

 

 

 

 

1967 – A YEAR OF SURPRISES #45

I enjoyed the three weeks at school in England and was very happy to have made new friends from all over the world. But now, it was time to get back to work in Detroit. Looking back through some of my old agendas, which I still have, 1967 had a lot of interesting events to tell you about.

As mentioned previously, Bill VonWeiler got me interested in Rotary, a businessmen's worldwide organization, and invited me to join. You can't just join Rotary; you must be invited by a member. Membership is limited to one member per job classification in each club. Rotary's main goal is to eradicate polio throughout the world; this has been largely accomplished, by raising millions of dollars to fund inoculations of children in mosquito infested areas worldwide. On the local level, Rotary clubs, often provides college scholarships to high school students and participate in various community needs, besides supporting Rotary International's goals. I have always been proud to be a member of Rotary. In May of 1967, Rotary's International Convention was going to be held in Nice, France and I was planning to attend.

Also in 1967, I met Dick Robison, editor and publisher of Impresario Magazine, and his assistant Joe Scolara. Impresario was dedicated to the Arts and covered all the concerts, ballet, etc., in the Detroit and suburban area; it was heavily supported by the auto industry. I wanted Impresario to sponsor a "Performing Arts Tour of Europe". It would include Amsterdam, Moscow, Leningrad, Budapest, Prague and Rome, for a total of 14 days. I agreed to support the tour by providing several evenings of films of the areas we would visit, for those interested in going on the tour; more about this later.

This is also the year when I got very involved in Holy Land Travel, or, "Walking in the Footsteps of the Lord". The salesmen and myself set a goal of getting at least three different ministers to organize and lead tours to the Holy Land. Michigan had a number of evangelical ministers. When they learned that they could get a free trip, plus money, for leading a group of at least 15 parishioners, we signed up four who wanted to do it. I never thought of religion as a business but, Boy, those ministers sure did. KLM had a fly now, pay later plan and many of the people wanting to go with their minister took advantage of it. Since I was responsible for submitting their applications, one particular mother and two children submitted an application that no one would ever approve. The Minister, who happened to be an American Indian and had a large following, begged me to approve it. When I said I couldn't, because the family would have no money left to eat or pay rent, etc., he said: "These people are highly religious and would go hungry just to walk in the footsteps of the Lord". When I asked him if he would be willing to co-sign and be responsible, the subject sure changed. All the tours did go; I don't recall the numbers, but I was surprised how many people signed up and travelled with their minister.

Roger Ackley decided to have another regional meeting. This was to be held at Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin, from November 12 to 16. The whole Regional Sales Group of about twenty people was going to attend. It was a great meeting, but the highlight which everyone will remember was about Roger, who, on one evening, took a late night swim in the indoor heated pool. After getting out of the pool he decided to go out the exit door to roll in the snow. (Snow had come early that year.) He was stone sober, and as he told us later: Heck, if the Scandinavians do this, I'm going to try it, too". He did not realize that the door from the pool area cannot be opened from the outside. He must have been about half an hour out in the snow, before he could find his way back inside. I think most of us were already in bed, but when we found out about it in the morning, he sure got a ribbing. Roger was a very good sport and all of us liked him immensely.

Back in Detroit, the Dutch Immigrant Society charters were going so well that we were going to schedule six 747 charters for 1968. The charters were a lot to handle as I made it a point to be on hand for all the departures and arrivals. Don Barrow, one of my sales reps always gave me a hand. With over 200 people departing and arriving each time, there was always some problem to be solved. We had the use of a ticket counter from Eastern, however, baggage had to be checked in, tickets picked up, and much more. John Witte and others from the DIS would ride down by bus from Grand Rapids to Detroit, and they were also a big help. After the first charter of the year to Amsterdam, we operated them on a back to back basis; when that first charter returned a few weeks later, bringing back the passengers, we would have it scheduled to pick up passengers in Detroit and take them to Amsterdam. In that way each aircraft would be full both ways; no empty legs to run up the cost. All the charters left Detroit in the evening for an arrival in Amsterdam in the morning. Coming back, they would leave in the morning, arriving back in Detroit in late afternoon.

Things were going so well for my district; little did I anticipate the problems that were about to take place with the Impresario Magazine tour. You'll learn about that next, along with the Rotary tour to Nice, France. And, of course, the race riots in Detroit, July 23^rd of '67.