Category Archives: Looking back

V. Louise Higgins: A Loving Tribute

As news of V. Louise Higgins’ death spread yesterday, former Staples High School English students from 4 decades posted their memories on “06880.

Andrea Libresco’s were longer than most. They deserve their own story.

Today, Andrea — a 1976 Staples grad — is a professor of social studies education at Hofstra University. She spent 19 years as a high school social studies teacher, and is the author of 2 books on education. It’s clear Miss Higgins had quite an influence on her. Andrea writes:

When my son was in 1st grade, he told us, “I am learning so much, she is making my head explode!” I had my own version of his teacher.

V. Louise Higgins, my 12th grade AP English instructor, wrote 1-2 pages of single-spaced comments on our papers. Her personalized journal assignments were designed to make each of us wide awake in the world.

V Louise Higgins, in Andrea Libresco's 1976 Staples yearbook.

V Louise Higgins, in Andrea Libresco’s 1976 Staples yearbook.

Every 2 weeks, each student was charged with writing a response to a particular article that Ms. Higgins had picked out particularly for him or her. It was not until I became a teacher that I truly appreciated the volume of individualized preparation and grading that these assignments entailed, not to mention the assumption that members of our class were individuals with different interests and needs.

My first assignment was a “My Turn” piece in Newsweek. An  immigrant had written about immigration policy. I was tasked with writing a letter to the editor in response. I felt pretty good … until it was returned with a full page of comments.

Ms. Higgins wondered why my letter had been so impersonal; why I had not, amid my policy analyses, extended a welcome to this recent immigrant to America. Her comment reminded me that analytical thought is but one aspect of being a citizen in a democracy. Another is recognizing and valuing the individual experiences of the variety of citizens who make up our multicultural democracy, and greeting them with the humanity that they all deserve.

I also remember the comments she wrote on my senior author paper on Sinclair Lewis.  They began, “Andrea, dear, you’ve written your usual safe ‘A paper…” She detailed the directions I might have taken, had I chosen to think a bit more.  These comments burned in my mind every time I sat down to write a paper in college, and I never (not consciously, at least) wrote a “safe” paper again.

Andrea Libresco, in 1976.

Andrea Libresco, in 1976.

I would be remiss if I did not mention her wicked sense of humor. When she was teaching us about the meaning of “sardonic,” she invited us to try our hands at making a sardonic comment. One student took up her challenge. He directed his stinger, “Nice wig,” at Ms. Higgins.

We looked from him to her, aghast. She elected to take him down, not by explaining how his insult was childish; rather, with barely concealed glee, she commented on an aspect of his dress: “Lovely sweater – knit it yourself, dear?”  As usual, she had the last – wry – word.

Ten years ago, I re-connected with her when I was running a program at my university called The Teacher Who Shaped My Life. Students, alums and faculty talked about a teacher they felt had greatly influenced them. Although she could not attend, it began a 10-year correspondence with her that I have treasured.  There was not a letter or email that didn’t make me laugh.

V. Louise Higgins, in 2014. (Photo/Karl Decker)

V. Louise Higgins, in 2014. (Photo/Karl Decker)

For example, her comments on Teach For America: “My fragile bones stop me from slugging grandparents I overhear counseling their grandchildren that they should use the TFA as a way station while they figure out what to do with their always enormous talents. However, one must be content with hoping all with such TFA views are operated on by young surgeons who just dropped in to medicine to get background for the string of novels or TV scripts they intend to write as soon as they have enough info.”

Her observations on her escalating physical infirmities allowed me to picture her jauntily battling them: “I am still recovering from hip replacement surgery, a rite of passage for almost everyone over 85. (The only bonus which comes with surviving it all is that one is able to wield a black, silver-handled cane with authority and strike poses that intimidate even medical persons.)”

She ended every email with the exhortation, “Onward.” And we, who were lucky enough to have V. Louise as a teacher, mentor, or friend, have no choice but to obey!

Andrea Libresco today.

Andrea Libresco today.

 

Mike Koskoff Brings Thurgood Marshall To Hollywood

This is a story about a movie script.

But it reads like a movie script itself.

When he was 19, Mike Koskoff’s family moved to Westport. He’s 74 now, still here, working at his “day job”: trial lawyer. Clients have included the Black Panthers, black police officers and firefighters in Bridgeport, and Michael Jackson’s family.

His son Josh is a partner in the firm. Right now, he’s handling the Sandy Hook suit against gun manufacturers.

Seven years ago, before he died, Jack Zeldes — a Bridgeport attorney and legal historian — asked Mike if he knew there had a been a trial in that city involving Thurgood Marshall.

Mike did not. Apparently, no one else remembered it either.

More than 2 decades before he became a Supreme Court justice, Thurgood Marshall handled an explosive case in Bridgeport.

More than 2 decades before he became a Supreme Court justice, Thurgood Marshall handled an explosive case in Bridgeport.

Mike presented the idea to 2 of his other children, Jake and Sarah. Both are screenwriters. Neither had the time — or the interest.

But 7 years earlier, on Mike’s 60th birthday, Sarah had given him a book on screenwriting. Zeldes suggested Mike try writing something about Marshall himself.

Mike’s 1st draft focused on the courtroom drama. The case began in 1940. Greenwich socialite Eleanor Strubing was found near the Kensico Reservoir. She told a harrowing story of being raped by her black chauffeur, Joseph Spell.

Police quickly arrested the man. It was front-page news.

Sam Friedman

Sam Friedman

Frightened white people across the country began firing their domestic workers. The NAACP — despite its own dire financial straits — hired Bridgeport attorney Sam Friedman.

And they sent Thurgood Marshall to help.

“The image we have of Marshall today is chubby, jowly, good-natured,” Mike Koskoff says.

“But in 1941 he was 6-2, and extremely handsome. He drank bourbon at nightclubs, and hung out in Harlem with Langston Hughes and Joe Louis.”

Only 32, Marshall was a formidable attorney. He’d traveled around the South — alone — defending blacks in redneck towns. And he had already argued before the Supreme Court.

Thurgood Marshall, as a young man.

Thurgood Marshall, as a young man.

Koskoff’s script centered around the 2 men — Jewish Friedman, and black Marshall — joining forces to defend Spell. With the backdrop of the growing war in Europe, he had plenty of material.

The screenplay took a while to finish. Eventually Koskoff took it to his friend (and fellow attorney) Alan Neigher.

To Koskoff’s amazement, Neigher said that his father — a noted journalist named Harry — had covered that trial for the Bridgeport Herald.

And — after law school — Alan even shared office space with Friedman.

Neigher showed the script to Friedman’s family. Sam’s daughter Lauren — a therapist in New York, who had studied acting at Carnegie Mellon — passed it along to a producer friend in Los Angeles.

The friend liked it, and wanted to make it into a movie. Koskoff told his son Jake the news.

When Mike mentioned the producer’s name — Paula Wagner — Jake was stunned. “She’s the biggest female producer in Hollywood!” he said. She worked with Tom Cruise, producing the “Mission: Impossible” series, and Steven Spielberg’s “War of the Worlds.”

Wagner loved the script. But, she said, it needed better character development.

Koskoff realized he was in over his head. He called Jake. This time, his son was ready to help.

Michael and Jake Koskoff.

Mike and Jake Koskoff.

For the past 4 years, father and son have collaborated on new drafts. They’ve been helped by one of Wagner’s friends: Reginald Hudlin. A Harvard grad, producer of this year’s Oscars show and an African American, he’s been a lifelong admirer of Thurgood Marshall.

He loved the script too. But, he said — there’s always a “but” — there was just one thing. The 1st biopic about the 1st black Supreme Court justice could not be a “buddy film” about 1 Jewish and 1 black lawyer collaborating. Marshall had to be front and center.

It turned out to be an easy rewrite. “Thurgood was always there,” Koskoff says. “He was just waiting to jump out.”

Cahdwick Boseman

Chadwick Boseman

Chadwick Boseman (Jackie Robinson in “42,” James Brown in “Get On Up”) signed on as the star. Filming began before Christmas, but was interrupted by Hudlin’s Oscars gig. It resumes next month.

Koskoff hoped it would be shot in Bridgeport. But the Connecticut Film Office has a moratorium on tax credits, so shooting takes place in Buffalo.

“Marshall” is the right movie at the right time, Koskoff says.

“Five years ago, we were told no one would finance a ‘black’ movie because there were no overseas sales. But then came ‘The Butler,’ ’12 Years a Slave’ and ‘Selma.'”

Koskoff adds, “Now we’ve got Black Lives Matter, police abuses, and a focus on blacks and the criminal justice system — along with the Oscars controversy about black actors.”

Throw in, for good measure, the current national focus on a Supreme Court vacancy. The stars have aligned for “Marshall.”

Release is scheduled for the end of this year. That seems like a long way off. Odds are though — without a 9th justice — the Supreme Court will still be in the news.

(For a Jewish Ledger interview with Mike Koskoff, click here. Hat tips: David Roth and Darcy Hicks)

Mike Koskoff (right) with Sam Friedman's daughter Lauren, and Thurgood Marshall's son John.

Mike Koskoff (right) with Sam Friedman’s daughter Lauren, and Thurgood Marshall’s son John.

Thurgood Marshall - quote

 

Remembering V. Louise Higgins

Anyone who attended Staples in the 1940s, ’50s, ’60s and ’70s knew V. Louise Higgins. The Radcliffe graduate influenced thousands of lives, as a revered English teacher and department chair.

That influence included fellow teachers and administrators, as well as students. Former colleague Karl Decker remembers V. Louise Higgins, who died last Friday at 92.

——————————————————

I came to the Staples English Department in September 1960, along with many other new young teachers. “V. Louise” — “Miss Higgins” of course to us unproven neophytes — had come to my classroom for my first observation.

V. Louise Higgins, in the 1956 Staples yearbook...

V. Louise Higgins, in the 1956 Staples yearbook…

I was ready with a  great lesson, the students were ready with pencils  poised for note-taking, and I did all the right things. Miss Higgins sat in back taking notes on a yellow legal pad. Class ended, students left, Miss Higgins rose with her yellow legal pad and approached me.

“Dear boy,” she said using her frequent form of address. “A fascinating class. Tell me, for I am curious — just where did you get your material?”

“My fine college notes, Miss Higgins,” I replied. “You see, I saved them in case–”

“I thought so,” she said and paused. Then: “Tell me, have you considered burning them?” And with that she left the room.

As she passed by the wastebasket, she tore off the top sheet of her yellow legal pad, crumpled it up and backboarded it off the wall into the garbage.

If VL had a supervisory, mentoring objective, it surely was to get us to develop our own expertise, to work towards our own mastery of content and teaching skills. As she put it once to me, “I want you to be able to teach that class with your hands tied behind your back and without the crutch of a lesson plan — of specious value anyway — before you.”

...and in 1969.

…and in 1969.

Three years later I held a minor administrative position at Staples and had my teaching schedule halved. VL was clearly not pleased. One day she came to my new office and asked, “Are you going to be an administrator or a teacher?” I leaned back in the arrogance of my swivel chair and said I’d give it some serious thought.

“I want that serious thought done and over with tonight and your answer on my desk tomorrow morning,” she replied. I chose teaching. “The correct choice,” she said later. “Now, about the Shakespeare selections for the sophomore classes…”

So the years at Staples passed and eventually we went our separate ways. VL retired and devoted her later years to study of the ships and seafaring days of Southport. In 1999 I quit after 43 years of teaching to become a photographer and writer for 6 years at Vermont Magazine.  Then by chance we re-met when she was in residence at the famed 3030 in Bridgeport. I had begun work on a novel.

“A novel? Dear boy, do let me read your drafts,” she said. And for the next 2 years, I’d send her the chapters as they came. Her critical skills were undiminished–sharp, perceptive, acerbic and yet supportive.

“On page 145 you have a paragraph that make no sense at all…Oh, yes, and here on page 166, you have a terrible mixed metaphor…ah, there is a nice turn of phrase somewhere here…just can’t seem to find it right now…”

In December 2014 -- as she read his manuscript -- Karl Decker took this photo of V. Louise Higgins. "Note the color in her world," he says.

In December 2014 — as she read his manuscript — Karl Decker took this photo of V. Louise Higgins. “Note the color in her world,” he says.

In one of my later calls she asked, “Where are Chapters 21 and 22?” I sent them, but no reply, no critique came. In my last call a few weeks ago, I had asked how she was doing. Prefaced with unguarded and easy laughter, she finally said, “Dear boy, I am 92 years old. At 92 you simply, don’t start getting better.”

As an ex-English teacher I suppose I should be able to end this encomium (she loved big, precise words) with some brilliant quote from the great literature. But nothing seems to come just now. All I can say is I feel as if the chain to one of my several anchors in the world has been severed and for a while, I may be somewhat adrift.

Well. I do hope she likes the metaphor.

Old Mill Restaurant Battles: The Back Story

Friday’s “06880” post on the benefits and drawbacks of a restaurant in the residential Old Mill neighborhood noted that 4 years ago, area residents opposed Positano’s owners plan to add 4 tables of outdoor dining at the site.

Several commenters pointed out that before Positano, Cafe de la Plage enjoyed a long and storied run as a beachside dining spot. Sally Kellogg Deegan remembered a restaurant called Leo Williams in the 1940s.

She’s exactly right. But there’s a lot more to the tale than that. And it involves the same issue that Positano faced decades later: neighbors.

The Bridgeport Post of August 21, 1954 ran this headline: “‘Fed Up With Town,’ Says Restaurateur Leo Williams in Quitting Westport.”

The story begins:

Leo Williams’ restaurant, a landmark at Old Mill Beach since 1945, will change owners on or about October 1 as the result of a zoning feud between the proprietor and the town.

Ired by what he termed the ‘petty complaints of jealous neighbors,’ Williams and his partner, Fred Wittenberger, moved to Essex, where they purchased a colonial mansion.

In 1945, Williams had taken over the Old Mill restaurant. Officials granted permission to build a screened-in porch, on land that partly encroached on town property.

Leo Williams' Old Mill Restaurant, in 1954. The screened-in porch can be seen on the right. (Photo/Bridgeport Post)

Leo Williams’ Old Mill Restaurant, in 1954. The screened-in porch can be seen on the right. (Photo/Bridgeport Post)

In 1954, he added a wooden fence in front of his adjacent Hillspoint Road home. Neighbors complained it was on Old Mill Beach property. Williams said the land was his.

After a survey, Westport’s selectmen ordered the fence removed. Williams refused. The case went to the Court of Common Pleas.

Leo Williams' Hillspoint Road home, with its fence.

Leo Williams’ Hillspoint Road home, with its fence. (Photo/Bridgeport Post)

Williams then placed large boulders in front of his fence. He said he needed protection against tidal storms. The selectmen had the rocks removed, and billed Williams.

After Williams announced he was moving to Essex, neighbors told him to remove the porch. They said it belonged to him, not the restaurant. Williams countered that without the porch, no one would sublet the restaurant.

Comparing himself to Vivien Kellems — a longtime Westporter who left for Stonington following zoning battles over her cable grip manufacturing company — Williams said, “I’m getting out of Westport and the sooner the better. If the porch must be removed, I’ll take it with me to Essex. I’m fed up with the town and my nosy neighbors.”

The Day Cruyff Came To Westport

While the soccer world mourns the death of Johan Cruyff — the electrifying, revolutionary player who brought Holland to global prominence, then as a coach laid the foundation for Barcelona (and Spain’s) enduring influence — Westporters of a certain age recall the day the lithe forward arrived in town.

In 1979, a Dutchman named Bart van den Brink lived off Greens Farms Road. A successful businessman — and, like most of his countrymen, a passionate soccer fan — he wanted to bring his nation’s “Total Soccer” concept to the States. And, hopefully, make some money.

Bart brought Jan Brouwer — the coach of professional team Willem II — to Westport. Using this town as a base, they offered player clinics, coaching education, travel packages and more, all across the country.

Total Soccer SpectacularAt the same time, Greens Farms Academy — under coach Jim Baumann — saw a way to make its mark in soccer. Teaming up with Bart and Jan, they sponsored a day-long “Total Soccer Spectacular.”

There were games, contests — and, making a special appearance, the man who was then the greatest soccer player in the world.

 

John Videler remembers that day well.

Today he is a renowned photographer. But on that spring day, he was a 14 year old Westport kid. Thanks to Bart, Jan and John’s father Cor (a Netherlands native, and a photographer), John got to meet Cruyff.

Cor spoke to Cruyff in Dutch. He took a photo of his son, with the star. Later, Cruyff autographed it.

Johan Cruyff and John Videler. (Photo/Cor Videler)

Johan Cruyff and John Videler. (Photo/Cor Videler)

John’s cousin owns a pub in Holland. He put the photo in a prominent place. When John visited a few years later, he realized he was famous.

I remember Cruyff’s visit too. Just starting my coaching career, I was hired by Bart and Jan to work with their company. I wrote coaching manuals, acted as a liaison with Dutch players in the NASL, and made travel arrangements.

So, after the “Total Soccer Spectacular,” I was invited to Bart’s house. Cruyff, a few Dutch folks and I ate, drank beer and chatted. (As anyone who has been to Holland knows, the Dutch speak better English than we do.)

We were there for several hours. It was a great afternoon.

Except for one thing: The entire time, Cruyff chain-smoked.

That’s no exaggeration. When one cigarette was finished, he used it to light the next.

The soccer world lost one of its greatest players ever today, when Johan Cruyff died. He was 68 years old.

The cause was lung cancer.

Johan Cruyff 3

Johan Cruyff 2

(Hat tip: Fred Cantor)

Karl Decker’s Famous Schools

Staples High School English instructor Karl Decker retired in 1999. Generations of students had been inspired by his stories. A recent “06880” post about Max Shulman inspired Decker to add his own memories of the famed humor writer and Westport resident. Karl recalls:

It was my 1961 summer job after my first year teaching at Staples. I was a “famous” reader of student assignments at the Famous Writers School in Westport. How I got the job I happen to forget, but there I was in a row of offices overlooking the inspiring Saugatuck River along with Mignon Eberhardt (mystery writer), Phil Reavis (Yachting Magazine), and next door to me Westport’s frisky humorist Parke Cummings.

Al Dorne, Famous Schools founder (and illustrator), called a meeting  of us all to think up some creative ideas for other schools that could become Famous too. Al Dorne sat at the head of the big table. There was Gordon Carroll (sometime editor at Reader’s Digest), Lloyd Fangel (I think he had a daughter at Staples), Mignon,  Phil and some I did not know. One other man who seemed in a rather sullen mood sat off to one side. Bennett Cerf had called to say he’d be late.

Random House founder Bennett Cerf, in a famous ad for his famous school.

Random House founder Bennett Cerf, in a famous ad for his famous school.

With very straight faces, Parke and I had just submitted our  proposal for the Famous Sculptors School. Everyone nodded politely as we described it.

Finally Mr. Dorne said, “This is the kind of creative  thinking I like to see around here. The only thing  that bothers me about this plan is that we’d have to build a railroad siding from the mainline so the students could send in their granite homework on flatbed cars.”

Parke and I expressed our thanks and said we are working now on a Famous Dancers School. Our plan for mail-in lessons was outrageous, but that’s for another time.

At some point however, I think it was Lloyd Fangel who saw the sullen fellow and said, “Max, you don’t look too happy today. Something wrong?” And then I realized this was Max Shulman.

Max replied, “Yes. My wife threw away my writing  pants. Said they were disreputable, dirty, tattered. I don’t think I’ll ever write again.”

The meeting ended. Parke and I took our sandwiches to eat on the banks of  the Saugatuck River, and work on our proposal for the Famous Symphony Conductors School.

Karl Decker, today

Karl Decker, today

How Green Was My Post Road

Spring is here (in fits and starts). Lawns turn green. Flowers bloom. Trees come alive again, turning Westport into a lush, lovely town at every turn.

Trees define this place. They give permanence to our property. They link us to our past. And they line our roadsides.

Sometimes.

From 1972-76, a major program remade the look of Westport. Thanks to the Westport Woman’s Club — with direction from Eloise Ray and Elaine Rusk — over 300 trees were planted on the Post Road. From the Southport line to Norwalk, those new trees turned our main artery — lined with gas stations, stores, office buildings and parking lots — into something special.

The Post Road near Maple Avenue, in 1976. The KFC was located opposite the Shell gas station (still there) and what is now Athletic Shoe Factory. (Photo/Dan Cronin)

The Post Road near Maple Avenue, in 1976. The KFC was located opposite the Shell gas station (still there) and what is now Athletic Shoe Factory. (Photo/Dan Cronin)

For good reason, the project was called “The Greening of the Post Road.” The town’s Beautification Committee took over annual maintenance of the trees. That work “will probably continue in some form as long as there is a Westport,” a report proclaimed a few years later.

Of course, it’s tough to care for trees that don’t exist.

In the 4 decades since the Post Road was greened, more than 2/3 of those trees have disappeared.

Some died of disease or drought. Others fell to the effects of road salt or car accidents. Some were sacrificed to the needs of utility companies. Others were removed by property owners — during renovations, because they blocked views of stores, or hung over sidewalks, or were too hard to care for. Or for no real reason at all.

As this photo shows, most of the trees near the former Subway restaurant and Sherwood Diner are gone.

As this photo shows, most of the trees near the former Subway restaurant and Sherwood Diner are gone.

A “re-greening project” in 2008 added 100 new trees to the Post Road. Still, only 80 or so trees from both programs survive.

Silver maples have been removed from the Barnes & Noble plaza. A giant sycamore is gone from the old Cedar Brook Cafe. Construction at the new Maserati dealer and Subway are 2 more recent examples where trees no longer stand.

Now, a newly reconstituted Tree Board is ready to re-re-green the heart of Westport.

The 7-member committee — appointed by 1st Selectman Jim Marpe, and chaired by Tricia Rubenstein — includes horticulturalists, a dendrologist and a landscape architect. Dick Stein also serves on the state Notable Trees Project. Al Gratrix is a Planning and Zoning Commission alternate.

Recently, the Tree Board met with Beautification Committee chair Kathy Davis-Groener. Together — and with the help of the P&Z Department — they will Make The Post Road Green Again.

In areas like this -- with Sasco Creek Village is on the right, and Lansdowne Condos (not shown) on the left, the Greening of the Post Road project still bears fruit. (Photo/Google Street View)

In areas like this — with Sasco Creek Village on the right, and Lansdowne Condos (not shown) on the left, the Greening of the Post Road project still bears fruit. (Photo/Google Street View)

Fortunately, the US 1 project is not starting from Square 1.

Voluminous files — and dozens of photographs — document the work of the many committed volunteers in the 1970s.

They’ve got the law on their side too. P&Z regulations set landscape standards. For example, they require shade trees every 50 feet in front of any commercial business. In addition, “all landscaping plans shall conform with the ‘Greening of the Post Road Tree Program,” among other requirements.

The  Tree Board will determine the right species, and the right places to plant them. Not every tree can survive near constant traffic.

Sycamores seem to be the hardiest — they’re thriving near Carvel and Stop & Shop. Norway maples appear to have the toughest time.

Most of the trees planted in the 1970s by 606 Post Road East have been removed. (Photo/Google Street View)

Most of the trees planted in the 1970s by 606 Post Road East have been removed. (Photo/Google Street View)

But that’s not the only challenge. Roadway shoulders are state right-of-way. But — even though P&Z regulations require trees — state authorities need permission from property owners to plant there. “It’s a gray area,” the tree board says.

The state Department of Transportation does not say so exactly, but the fewer trees they have to worry about, the happier they are. (US1 is a state road.)

The DOT employs an arborist. But his office is in New Haven; his territory runs from Greenwich to Guilford, and all the way north to Redding. That’s a lot of trees for one guy to cover.

Some trees remain near the Fresh Market shopping center. Others have been planted in the parking lot, as per town regulations. But many others are gone from the roadside.

Some trees remain near the Fresh Market shopping center. Others have been planted in the parking lot, as per town regulations. But many others are gone from the roadside. (Photo/Google Street View)

The new greening project will not involve fundraising. It’s the obligation of property owners — including those proposing new construction, or renovations — to replace the trees they remove.

And, the Tree Board notes, to replace those that a previous property owner might have cut down, too.

Back in the Ford administration, the Greening of the Post Road changed the look — and feel — of Westport’s Post Road. The moment anyone crossed the border into Norwalk, the difference was clear.

The Post Road/Riverside Avenue/Wilton Road intersection is one of the worst in Fairfield County. But at least there's greenery on the way to Norwalk.

The Post Road/Riverside Avenue/Wilton Road intersection is one of the worst in Fairfield County. But at least there’s greenery on the way to Norwalk.

The effects of the project were expected to live for generations. Barely 4 decades later, a new program is sorely needed.

But this Tree Board is optimistic. They know their cause is a good one — environmentally as well as aesthetically — and the time is right.

They also know they can’t do it alone. If you’re interested in helping — or want more information — click here. Or email westporttreeboard@gmail.com, or treewarden@westportct.gov.

 

Enjoying A Max Shulman Revival

Back in the day, Westporter Max Shulman was a bestselling author. He also achieved success on Broadway — writing the book for the Tony-nominated “How Now, Dow Jones” — and in Hollywood, with many screenplays.

Max Shulman - How Now Dow JonesLike many authors who achieved fame more than a half century ago, Shulman’s books went out of print. Then, last month, Open Road Media made his works available once again, as e-books.  

In addition, the complete run of the hit TV show “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” — based on Shulman’s short stories — is now available on DVD.

“06880” contributor Fred Cantor recently reached asked Max’s son Dan — a Staples High School 1962 grad, now a prominent antitrust attorney in Minneapolis — for his recollections about growing up in Westport in the 1950s as the son of a celebrated writer. Here is Fred’s report:

Max Shulman moved his family to Westport in 1948, when Dan was 4. Max, the son of Russian immigrants, had grown up poor in St. Paul, Minnesota. He came east because the publishing industry was based in New York. Dan says Max considered this “a dream come true…a nice house in the country.” In 1950, Westport’s population was just 12,000.

Shulman was soon immersed in a community of fellow writers, and others who made their living in the arts.

Max Shulman at work.

Max Shulman at work.

Among his Westport friends were actor David Wayne and writers Jerome Weidman (the 1960 Pulitzer Prize co-winner for drama), Jean Stafford (a Pulitzer winner for fiction), Rod Serling and Peter De Vries.

Fairfielder Robert Penn Warren came over to the house too.

Dan was not star-struck seeing such famous people hanging out with his dad. He viewed them as “just family friends.”

But Dan recalls that it was “a big deal” when, at 10, he traveled with his family to Boston for the pre-Broadway run of a play his dad co-authored, “The Tender Trap.” Dan was thrilled to have dinner with the play’s co-star, Robert Preston. A year after the play reached Broadway, it was made into a movie starring Frank Sinatra and Debbie Reynolds.

While a number of Westport dads commuted to New York in the 1950s, Max Shulman had a much shorter commute: to a 2nd-floor office in the Sherwood Building on State Street (the Post Road), next to the Westport Bank & Trust building (now Patagonia). The office door had frosted glass, with “Max Shulman” painted on it.  It looked just like Sam Spade’s door in ‘The Maltese Falcon.”

Shulman used an Underwood typewriter, and was “a very meticulous writer. If he wrote 5 pages, that would have been a very good day.” He spent considerable time editing and rewriting.

Rally Round the Flag - 2

As part of that process in creating “Rally Round the Flag, Boys!” — the book set in Westport that led to the movie that led to Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward moving here — there was even a role for Dan. He read chapters aloud, so his father could hear how it sounded.

At age 13, he excitedly watched the book rise on The New York Times bestseller list.

Max Shulman’s writing was not done solely for publishers. In the 1950s, the Y held an annual father-son banquet. Each year Max wrote a comedy routine for Dan and his brother Bud to perform and sing. Here’s a sample:

A child should be polite.
His manners should be sweet.
A child should help old ladies
When they try to cross the street.
Especially a lady whose leg is in a cast,
‘Cause when you snatch her purse away,
She cannot run so fast.

You can’t keep a good humorist down.

The Hidden History Of 18 Indian Hill Road

In 1901, Gershom Bradley built a handsome house at 18 Indian Hill Road. He owned a massive onion farm, extending to Norwalk and Treadwell Avenue, and nearly to the Saugatuck River.

The turret on his new Queen Anne Victorian was flat. Gershom stood there, and watched onion barges come and go along the river. The original stone wall still stands, up and down Indian Hill.

18 Indian Hill Road, back in the day.

18 Indian Hill Road, back in the day.

In 2000, the house — with 5 bedrooms and a large porch — came on the market. The developer next door wanted to tear it down, and subdivide the lot. But the property was sold within a week, before his financing was in place.

So this is not a typical vanishing-old-house story. Over the next 16 years David Loffredo — a Westport native who moved “home” — spent tons of time and energy researching the home’s history.

He worked with the Westport Historical Society and former owners to find old pictures and blueprints. He recreated what had been stripped and scarred in in the 1970s, when the house was covered in aluminum siding.

But that’s not the real story either.

Shirley Jackson - The LotteryEveryone knows Shirley Jackson. Her short story “The Lottery” — first published in 1948, about brutal events in a seemingly normal village, and perhaps an inspiration for “The Hunger Games” — is an English course staple. I read it at Staples.

Shortly after her story appeared in The New Yorker, Jackson and her husband Stanley Hyman — a famous literary critic — rented 18 Indian Hill, for $175 a month. Jackson described Westport as “a nice fancy rich arty community.” Eventually, Ralph Ellison joined them.

In Private Demons: The Life of Shirley Jackson — which Loffredo owns — author Judy Oppenheimer writes:

It would be many years before (their son) Laurence would appreciate how rare it was to live in the kind of home where the guy pitching the ball to you might well be J.D. Salinger and the man yelling out the window for you to pipe down so he could work was often Ralph Ellison. “The Invisible Man” was finished with help from Stanley Hyman in this house.

Dylan Thomas: poet, drinker, smoker, sexual partner.

Dylan Thomas: poet, drinker, smoker, sex partner.

Dylan Thomas was another visitor to 18 Indian Hill. Oppenheimer says that after “liquor and smoke and endless rhetoric,” Jackson and he “met alone outside on the enormous porch that wound around the house….She confided to me that, yes, she was one of those women Dylan Thomas screwed on the back porch.”

But Jackson found Westport “too suburban for her taste, too many picnics and Cub Scout outings, a few too many self-conscious artists around. The elementary school itself could be annoyingly casual, she thought — at the slightest excuse (hurricane warnings, for instance) the children were sent home.”

Jackson also hated “these progressive nursery schools where hitting another child over the head with a block is regarded as a sign of extroversion.”

In October 1950 — 2 days before his 8th birthday — Laurence rode his bike out of the driveway. He was hit by a car. The accident, and lawsuit that followed, “turned Shirley against Westport for good,” Oppenheimer says. The family moved to North Bennington, Vermont.

David Loffredo — the current owner of 18 Indian Hill Road — thought this was a story worth telling.

Indeed it is. And Shirley Jackson herself could not have told it better.

18 Indian Hill, today.

18 Indian Hill Road today.

(18 Indian Hill Road is on the market. For details on this historic home, click here.)

Downtown Fire Disaster Averted

Quick work by the Westport Fire Department — with help from Wilton and Norwalk — averted a major disaster last night.

Flames poured from rooftop HVAC equipment atop the building housing Starbucks and HSBC Bank (the original Westport Library), on the Post Road  between Main Street and Parker Harding Plaza.

The Post Road was closed while firefighters battled the blaze, reported shortly after 10 p.m. Damage was limited to the roof.

Many units responded to last night's fire at Starbucks and HSBC Bank. (Photo/Westport Fire Department)

Many units responded to last night’s fire at Starbucks and HSBC Bank. (Photo/Westport Fire Department)

Downtown has been the scene of several major fires — to a furniture store, the Townly restaurant and Sconset Square — though none in recent decades.

Main Street was also the scene of a fire in 1950 that wiped out housing where a number of black men and women, who worked in Westport homes and businesses — lived. That area is now Bobby Q’s restaurant. Click here for that fascinating — and lost — piece of Westport history.

Flames shoot up from the downtown building's HVAC unit. (Photo/Westport Fire Department)

Flames shoot up from the downtown building’s HVAC unit. (Photo/Westport Fire Department)

(Hat tip: Daniel Brill)