Oxford University

by Ed Nelson

  We discussed how Australia could have more international trade now that the Malayan emergency was about over. There was very little communist activity there now.

  I was careful not to make it a blame game so the Prime Minister didn’t have to get defensive about his countrymen. We recognized that the Unions hadn’t seen enough benefits yet. Yes, what we were offering was more than fair but their job was to get more. Ours was to figure out how to give more without impacting the long term financial plan.

  If we offered higher wages that would cause long term problems. A one-time bonus might address the issue but we didn’t see it in our best interest to set that precedent. What we proposed was the setting up of a scholarship fund for the children of the union workers.

  You could tell from his body language the Prime Minister liked this creative approach. It was a fresh idea and also hit his hot button of higher education. This was our incentive to the Unions.

  Of course, he didn’t get to be Prime Minister by not getting something his party could take credit for. This had been part of our dinner conversation last night.

  For the Australian government, we offered to help their trading partners in Malaya and Indonesia by offering our expertise setting up container handling systems. Of course, we hoped our free consulting would result in contracts to perform the work.

  The Prime Minister liked that idea so much that he offered to include some Australian foreign aid money in the package. The gentleman from the US State Department spoke up and said that the United States would match whatever the Australians came up with.

  There would be some happy people in Malaysia and Indonesia when they heard about this. Their rice bowls would be full. Thinking of Jackson Enterprise’s rice bowl I asked if construction bonds could be tied back in such a way, that we would be the sole provider. As such we were prepared to take local recommendations of hiring in non-sensitive positions.

  Both the Australians and Americans thought this would be a good outcome for all concerned. My last thought was that we should have some high union officials present at our photo opportunities. It is hard to back out when there are pictures.

  We then were taken down to the harbor and given the obligatory tour of the new construction going on. While we were standing near a new crane going into place a worker spit on the ground next to me and said, “Bloody Toffs.”

  I couldn’t let this go. While not imagining this event I had thought ahead enough to bring my union cards with me in my wallet.

  I stepped up to the worker and asked who he was calling a Toff, I worked for a living. At that point, I pulled out my Seamen’s Union card and Oil workers card. I didn’t think my SAG card would impress him as much.

  It did set him back a bit. He quickly grew apologetic. His mates gathered around and asked what was going on. They had a good laugh at him about it and he would be taking the piss for some time to come.

  While my tour group, Prime Minister and all stood watching I asked the workers what they would think of Jackson Enterprises paying for a scholarship program for their kids. I continued that the Prime Minister had twisted our arms until we saw the light. Their reaction was very positive.

  Not one to miss a beat Mr. Menzies stepped up and took credit, but then shared it back as we had been an easy sell.

  This was better than any news conference. It would be the talk of every pub and union hall in the area before the day was over.

  The Prime Minister hosted a dinner for us that night. He asked if I had ever considered moving to Australia. I told him that I had never given it any thought.

  “Good, don’t, I would hate to run for office against you, your instincts are spot on.”

  “Well I have a good team behind me, you know what we had to offer was all thought of prior to our meetings.”

  “I thought so, but you know when the timing is right. That bit with the dockworkers earlier was inspired. We couldn’t get to that level of worker for support no matter how we tried. Normally it is top-down. This is going to be bottom-up. I bet you will see construction times improve immediately.

  The next day we had all the photo ops for the still cameras. We even had one of the Prime Minister and me signing a ‘contract.’ It was really a blank piece of paper. The legal people needed time for the wording.

  Two high Union officials were there. They both grumbled a little about interfering with their communications with their workers. How were they to take credit with the workers since the Prime Minister already had? Mr. Menzies told them that their previous private consultations had brought it about. They were bright people so went along with it. I wonder how often that sort of thing happened.

  Last on the photo list was me receiving the Australian Scout Medallion. I wasn’t going to sew these all on, I would hire a tailor.

  After the photo ops, there was a press conference. It started with the official reasons for the visit. The scholarships to be administered by the dockworkers union were a big hit. The two Union officials were front and center with how they made this happen after consultations with Mr. Menzies and his party. The conservatives would never have let this happen.

  The news about funding and support for Malay and Indonesia garnered some attention. The big news was that I had a walk-on part in ‘Sundowners.’ The Australian movie sector had not been doing too well so it was hoped that it would set off a renaissance in the industry.

  This talk of movies gave me the chance to bring up, ‘Across the Ohio’, One reporter said he heard there would be a surprise in the movie, what was it?

  “Now it wouldn’t be a surprise would it?”

  This got the laughter I was hoping for and ended the official portion of our Australian visit. We would be flying out to New Zealand in the morning.

  Chapter 13

  I guess we as a group were getting to be hardened travelers as we all agreed the flight to New Zealand wasn’t that bad. Of course, after some of our flights, a mere five and a half hours seemed like nothing.

  We still were taking the next day off. That way we would be rested for the meetings and also could do a little sightseeing. We had flown into Tauranga a city I had never heard of. The Kiwi’s as they called themselves had picked it as the harbor for container ships because of it being located between Auckland and Wellington.

  This avoided a political battle between the two cities. I expressed the thought that they both wanted it. I was put straight. Yes, there were groups in each city fighting for the financial benefits, but there were also groups not wanting it to ruin their beautiful waterfronts. In other words, New Zealanders were people.

  Mr. Frank Kitts, Mayor of Wellington was in our initial greeting party. He apparently thought that there was still some political capital to be made. We had just cleared customs and were waiting on our luggage to be unloaded. I sat on one of the many hard wooden chairs in the area.

  I had been forewarned about Mr. Kitts. The average man was five foot eight inches tall. He was six foot two. He was notorious for using his height to gain dominance in conversations. He liked to loom over people.

  This is what he tried with me. He came very close, within my personal space. He apparently had not been made aware of my height. I still had enough room to stand. When I stood I was now bumping bellies with him. My six foot five also loomed over his mere six foot two.

  Talking about backing up quickly, he almost stumbled. When he regained his composure you could tell he was not used to dealing with people taller than him. He introduced himself by name and gave a short welcome to New Zealand and assurance of any assistance we may need. We shook hands and he backed away. That is the last I had to deal with Mr. Kitts.

  Local taxis took us to the Hotel St. Amand. You could tell it had been around for a long time and was looking a little worse for the wear. However, it was clean and dry and they provided good toilet paper.

  After settling in we took a walk around the area. We ended up on Fisherman’s Wharf which served the local fishing fleet. It smelled like
a lot of fish. One really interesting feature was a water fountain that had railroad tracks running through the center. Actually, the water fountain had been built in two halves and placed on each side of the track, kind of weird but neat.

  We turned in early, as while we had laughed at the short flight the physical cost of the entire trip was adding up. Everyone had bags under their eyes, including me.

  The next morning we had breakfast at a delightful little outdoor café. No one said anything but the age and condition of the St Amand was off-putting.

  I had inquired and found out that there was a park close by. So I put on my running outfit and went to the Memorial park. It is a very pretty place and the trails were soft ground so it was easy running. I don’t know why the authorities always wanted to pave things over. I guess it was, follow the money.

  I left the grounds of the park and ran along the roads. Then I came across a road which ran up a hill. It promised to have a good view of the Bay of Plenty. At the top of Minden Road, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole area. It would be the perfect site for a lookout tower.

  After returning to the hotel and cleaning up I realized that I had spent the whole day running around the area. Not a great many miles but a lot of stops to view places like The Elms. This historic house, previously a Mission had seen the history of New Zealand from before the English settlement up to the English takeover.

  It was a story of human perseverance in the face of tragedy. It was stirring and sad at the same time. I was told the story by an elderly lady sitting on the porch of the house, I never learned her name.

  I watched the arrival of the Kestrel ferryboat from Auckland. Those disembarking were some of the people we would be seeing tomorrow. I had dinner with Dad, Popeye, and Sharon Wallace. We recounted our days. Apparently, we had all seen the same sights but at different times.

  Popeye had wandered down to the construction area for the new container port. He wasn’t impressed with their progress. After talking to a few workers and hearing terms like filthy capitalist and back of the working man he thought he knew what was going on. The communist influenced unions wanted no part of this project. If that was the case we were in for a long-drawn-out battle.

  If their attitude was reflected by the New Zealand officials there wasn’t much we could do. There didn’t appear to be any deals we could make like in Australia.

  The next morning we met at the local town hall. It was the only place in town big enough to hold everyone. The film crews had started setting up yesterday so they were ready to go in short order.

  There was a parade of dignitaries to meet. First was the Governor-General of New Zealand the Viscount Cobham. He had met Mum during the war but didn’t claim to know her well.

  Then there was Mr. Walter Nash the Prime Minister. He was very personable like most politicians but was standoffish. The only personal type comment he made to me was to let me know he also had an interest in Scouting and had been awarded the Golden Pheasant from Japan. This was Japan’s highest adult scouting award.

  We did the exchange of gifts, my plaque with the arrow for the Chief Scout Award. This was getting to be silly. I had been told my resume would look good with Eagle Scout on it. I wonder what people would think of it now.

  When the talks got serious it became very apparent that while New Zealand wanted a container port it was not to encourage trade but to raise taxes. They weren’t willing to try to influence their unions to quit the work slowdowns that had been going on.

  I think Popeye had nailed it on the head. We could deal with a union that was out for financial advantage for their members. Those that had a political agenda were harder. Those that were purely political in their nature were impossible. It was a case of apples and oranges.

  We would let New Zealand sort it out by themselves. When they realized that they were no longer competitive on the world stage they would fix things. All were polite but no one there was under the illusion that any progress was to be made.

  Even so, we took the obligatory tour together and mouthed the words of cooperation and how this would bring New Zealand products to the world.

  This trip had certainly been an eye-opener to me. I had seen everything from corruption to cooperation to indifference. It’s a wonder some people aren’t still living in caves. Oh, wait many Chinese still did.

  We wrapped up the day and had an impromptu party at a tavern next to the hotel. We were headed home tomorrow morning. I had a sip of beer and decided that it was horrible.

  We went around and congratulated each other on a trip well done. This included film crews, state department employees and my immediate team. The studio cameraman from Warner Brothers was clicking his camera like crazy.

  I thanked the gentleman from the United States State Department. I had wondered at first why they had accompanied us. I was almost insulted by them thinking I couldn’t handle things. Without their advice and education on what to expect it would have been a disaster.

  While thanking them I also asked Sharon Wallace who was stuck by my side to remind me to write a nice thank-you note to Secretary of State Christen Herter.

  The next morning I made certain to get a run in. It wasn’t many miles but I wanted to stretch my legs before the long flight to England. We would have refueling stops in Singapore, Bombay, and Rome before arriving in London. I would get off their while everyone else would return to the States, dropping off the State Department people in Washington, refueling in St. Louis and ending up in Los Angeles.

  What a flight. In total it would take almost three days.

  The flight itself was long and boring. We had all talked ourselves out so we had to find other entertainment. I lost five dollars at gin rummy so I gave up card sharping as a possible career. I even got involved in shooting craps on the floor of the last row. A gambler I am not. It only cost me ten more dollars to find that out.

  I had been told if you don’t know who the mark is in a gambling game it is probably you. That must have been why I was asked several times to rejoin the games. No thank you.

  The flight did give me time to reflect on what had been achieved. I had a flair for business. I was looking forward to going to Oxford and living an almost normal life. Well as normal as attending one of the most prestigious schools in the world could be.

  I was totally lost when it involved girls. Every time I thought I had a girlfriend it fell through. Many young and not so young women had let Richard Jackson the Actor and Wealthy Businessman know they were available. I wasn’t interested in those. I could recognize a losing proposition when I saw one. What I was interested in was a girl about my own age who I could relate to and have fun with. Yeah, I meant fun in all contexts. Sue me.

  Singapore was a quick stop so we all stayed on the plane. Bombay was a forced eight-hour delay. We were loaded on a bus and taken to a local hotel. The delay was forced by the Indian government to ensure all our papers were in order. This was strange as no one had planned to get off the aircraft.

  As someone pointed out, follow the money. Whose brother in law owned the bus, who owned the hotel? All I can say is that Bombay stunk. I meant it smelled bad. Too many people, too close, plenty of sewage, little refrigeration. It smelled horrid.

  As far as the hotel went I was afraid to lie on the bed not knowing what critters lived there. After checking out a pillow I took a nap on the floor. That turned out to be a big mistake for when I woke up I was staring eyeball to eyeball with a snake.

  I froze. I would like to think it was common sense in not moving quickly and causing the animal to react. It probably was in total fear. Every type of poisonous snake in India went through my mind. My brain finally got in gear when I realized its head was not the triangle of a poisonous snake. It looked like a rat snake to me.

  Knowing that it wasn’t poisonous I grabbed it several inches behind its neck. I had handled rat snakes and corn snakes in Ohio so I had no fear of them. The snake immediately wrapped its body around my arm. The
trick was to grab near the head so they couldn’t turn and bite, too close and they went totally crazy and almost impossible to hold but I had judged this one correctly. I took him down to the front desk.

  The young man had some English so I was able to communicate. He thanked me for bringing their snake back. They allowed them to roam the building as they kept the mice and rats down. The only problem was that King Cobras liked to feed on them so they had to hunt one down occasionally.

  I asked him if I should take him back to my room.

  “Oh no Sir, just put him down, each snake knows what floor it lives on.”

  Somethings you don’t question. This was India after all.

  Of course, the Warner Brothers man was there so he took pictures. I put the snake down and he promptly slithered under a couch. He no sooner disappeared than Sharon Wallace walked in and sat on the couch.

  Somedays the devil makes you do it. Today he didn’t. Nothing was said to Sharon as we gathered for our ride back to the airport. Once in the air, I had to tell my story about the snake to all. I don’t know why she hit my arm, hard.

  That was the most exciting thing that happened on the way to London. It was really strange when we got there. Steps were brought out for me to leave the plane. I was the only one getting off, even Dad was returning to Los Angeles. It felt like I was leaving my best friends and a party all rolled into one.

  Chapter 14

  From the plane, I went directly to my hotel. I was so tired I could hardly see straight. Of course, the manager needed to talk to me. He wanted to let me know there would be several extra charges on my room. It appears my cousins who I had given permission to stay on visits during the weekend had taken advantage of that.

  The rooms had been trashed. Apparently, they had invited a bunch of their friends. The mini-bar which I had never even opened had been emptied two weekends in a row.

  Altogether it was costing me over a thousand pounds. I wasn’t very happy. I told the Manager they no longer had freedom of my rooms and they weren’t to be given keys unless I gave direct permission by name. I had three male cousins and two females. I didn’t know who was involved so I was banning all of them until I knew what went on.