Philadelphia Reflections

Venturi's Franklin Museum in Franklin Court

Franklin Court Museum

When Judge Edwin O. Lewis was seized with the idea of making a national monument out of Colonial Philadelphia, he wanted it big. Forty or so years later, it's big all right, but not big enough to encompass the whole of America's most historic square mile. Government ownership in the form of a cross now extends five blocks north from Washington Square to Franklin Square, and four blocks East from Sixth to Second Streets. Restoration and historic display have spread considerably beyond that cross, however, and the Park Service has created ingenious walkways within the working city in the neighborhood. If you thread your way through these walkways, you can stroll for miles within the world of William Penn and Benjamin Franklin. One such unexpected walkway is now called Franklin Court, which essentially cuts from Market to Chestnut Streets, within the block bounded by 3rd and 4th Streets. Hidden in the center is the reconstructed ghost of Franklin's quite large house, sitting in an interior courtyard bounded by a colonial post office, and a newspaper office once operated by Franklin's grandson. And, along the side of the walkway near Chestnut Street, is a fascinating museum of Franklin's personal life, built by no less than Frank Venturi, and operated by Park Rangers in the polished but low-key manner for which the U.S. Park Service is famous.

For some reason, this jewel of a museum has not received the high-powered publicity it deserves. It's off the main Park premises, as we mentioned, and some of the problem has to be attributed to Venturi. As you walk through, you don't expect a huge museum to be there, and it can look pretty inconspicuous as you walk past because it is mostly underground. Take my word for it, it's worth a visit. There are long descending ramps inside the doors, which can be pretty daunting if you are elderly and tired. But, also inconspicuous, there's an elevator if you look around for it. Venturi didn't seem to like windows very much, which is a problem for some people.

There's a movie theater inside there, playing a long list of fascinating documentaries. There's an ingenious automated display of statuettes which utilize spotlights and revolving stages to present Franklin in Parliament, resisting the Stamp Act, Franklin being his charming self before the French monarchs, and the frail dying Franklin getting the Constitutional Convention to approve the document. There are also a variety of ingenious inventions of Franklin's on display in the original, including bifocal glasses, the first storage battery, a simplified clock, several library devices, the Franklin stove, and so on. In some ways, the highlight is the Armonica.

The Armonica is the musical instrument invented by Franklin, for which both Beethoven and Mozart composed special music to exploit its haunting tone. If you ask the nice Park Ranger, she will be flattered to play you a tune on it.

Literary Figures in the Philadelphia Region

John P. Marquand Born in Delaware, lived in Gardner's Cottage of Shipley/Bringhurst Estate (now, Rockwood Museum). The Late George Apley

Dudley Cammett Lunt 1896-1981. Lawyer, historian of Delaware history, lived in Rockwood. The Bounds of Delaware, Tales of Delaware Bench and Bar, Taylor's Gut in the Delaware State (Mason and Dixon), The Road to the Law Contact John P. Reid.

J. Gould Cozzens, By Love Possessed

Zane Gray

Edgar Allen Poe

E. Digby Baltzell Quaker Philadelphia and Puritan Boston

Struthers Burt Philadelphia Holy Experiment

Nathaniel Burt Perennial Philadelphians

"The Philadelphia Rosary": Morris, Norris, Rush, and Chew,
........................................Drinker, Dallas, Coxe, and Pugh,
........................................Wharton, Pepper, Pennypacker,
........................................Willing, Shippen and Markoe

Pearl Buck The Good Earth

John Updike Run, Rabbit

James Michener Tales of the South Pacific

Abbie Hoffman

Margaret Mead Growing Up in Samoa

John O'Hara Appointment in Samara

Owen Wister The Virginian

Benjamin Franklin Autobiography

Fanny Kemble Journal of a Residence on a Georgian Plantation 1838-1839

Silas Weir Mitchell Hugh Wynne, Quaker

J.D. Salinger

Edward Albee

REFERENCES

Bill Gates Gets a Medal

William Henry Gates, III

Bill Gates was once the richest man in the world. He may still have that honor, although it would be hard to say just where he stands now that he has established his charity foundation and changed jobs at Microsoft Inc. Instead of CEO, he's now Chairman and Chief Software Architect, a title so unique that its day to day meaning is obscure. If anyone cares about ranking billionaires, it would be hard to see why they do, since even one billion dollars is hard to spend in one lifetime. But it is interesting to speculate on why the Franklin Institute chose him as its scientific awardee, and why that was an insightful choice. And it is furthermore interesting to speculate on what motivated him to do what he did in life. He may not agree, but by this time he must be accustomed to having the whole world speculate on what they would do if they had his wealth, something the whole world seems to think would be a fine outcome.

The Franklin Institute is known for its interest in science, and of course, it is interested in preserving the spirit of Benjamin Franklin, who never went past the second grade but became the greatest scientist of his age. That's not the same as dropping out of Harvard because of better things to do with his time, but it has a certain kinship. Both Gates and Franklin appear to have spent a lot of time in science because they liked science, and both gave away a lot of money to charity, even though they both quite obviously liked money a lot, too. Both men retired in their 40s, but both of them sort of kept their hands in. Neither of them seems to have been able to tolerate idleness. There were appreciable differences between them as well, but enough similarities to portray them both as strikingly different from the sort of person who typically spends a lifetime as a scientist, obediently following the rules. In spite of all that, however, how does the Franklin Institute justify giving its top award to a businessman?

Since most of the people active in the Institute are residents of the Philadelphia area, it's reasonably easy to get an idea of the thought process without quoting anyone. If the Nobel Prize had been available in 1790, its present rules would have excluded Franklin. There's still no Nobel Prize assigned to eminent achievement in electricity, so the inventor of electricity might well have had some trouble getting past the nominating committees. Perhaps the 1776 founder of the American diplomatic corps might well have been able to wangle it, had he tried hard enough, and there had been enough women on the committee. So we must let that thought rest. The Franklin Institute first asks what is the most exciting field in science today, and then asks who is the most influential person in the field. Franklin would have won in 1790, and if you agree that computer science rules science today, you would have to give the prize for computer eminence to Gates. Apple and Google are coming right along, but Bill Gates was there first.

There is another line of reasoning to be considered here, one which includes the restlessness of some more conventional scientists seeing Gates honored in this way. He actively sought money for his achievements; the honor wasn't enough for him. Back in the early days of the computer, what ruled was the spirit of the gifted amateur, let's say the tradition of the wealthy English gentleman who tinkered. The early programs of personal computers were designed by the self-taught amateur who stayed up all night figuring out how to do things, and then proudly made an announcement at the local user's group. Magazines were published so amateurs could exchange discoveries; it was lots of fun. Gradually these support structures disappeared, supplanted by commercial software for a fee. Eventually, even the amateur-friendly languages were deleted, and ways were found to charge for later versions. Over the course of twenty years, amateurs by the thousands gave up the game and were replaced by millions of ordinary users.

In the early days, I was one of those enthusiastic amateurs, wrote lots of small programs for the use of myself and friends, for the good of the Order. From time to time, I wrote a piece of software that seemed more than slightly valuable, and I thought of selling it. For years I held back from such temptations, partly because of the nuisance involved, but mostly because of what I feared my friends would think of me for such crass behavior. And then, one day the light dawned on me. If people weren't willing to pay for the software, it couldn't be worth much. If it was indeed a valuable contribution to their work, they ought to help support me while I did some of the work for them. After all, money is the standard of value in our society, and a convenient means of exchange; there is nothing evil or demeaning about a free exchange between consenting adults. They want the software more than they want the money, that's all. If I charge too much they will refuse to buy; if I don't charge enough, I will starve to death. Meanwhile, the software industry with Microsoft leading the way flourished and got rich doing a lot of good for the world. It soon became clear that huge expenditures would need to be made to make the computer usable by just plain folks, but in return for that risk, hundreds of millions of school children, businesses and even barefoot citizens of developing third-world countries are now using the computer in their daily lives. Mass production brought down the costs of even the hardware, which at one time cost millions of dollars per machine. Bill Gates got rich on this revolution, but even his riches were a paltry fraction of the world benefits, whatever his original motives may have been, and no matter how much guilt he may now feel. Forget about his money. His impact on the world was stupendous.

There's a deeper level to this. We are rapidly reaching the point where nearly half of the nation works for non-profit concerns. It depends a little on which occupation is under discussion, but more than half of union members ( a group that is not shy about advancing its personal interests) now work for the government on some level. Add in the children who have not yet entered the workforce, and the retirees who have left it. If you count them, you can make a case that only a minority of Americans work for a profit right now, so their sympathies for-profits are therefore pretty weak. To them, the shift from non-profit to for-profit (like Bill Gates at Microsoft) is morally going the wrong way on a one-way street. The private economy encounters slander and epithets when they suggest privatization of public services, such as schools and postal delivery, to say nothing of policing and tax collection. These decisions in any rational environment ought to be made on which is the cheaper way to perform them since the implication that private operations are more corrupt than public ones has long since lost the argument of being obvious. Unfortunately, we are on our way to abandoning the scientific method of determining relative values, supplanting it with the judgment of fifty-nine Senators plus the Vice President, of five out of nine Supreme Court Justices. The marketplace is being denounced; what you hear is really the denunciation of the scientific method of determining truth.

We even have a glaring example amidst the ruins of the present financial mess, largely being mislabeled. Lehman Brothers were brought down by general denunciation, facilitated to some degree by the unattractive personal qualities of some of its leaders. But Lehman had discovered an important feature of globalization, which had lifted two billion Chinese and Indians from poverty. When a large international firm makes components in one country and assembles them elsewhere, it just does it. But when smaller firms make one piece and some other firm assembles pieces in another country, the components are bought and sold. There's a significant transaction cost in all this, not the least of which is borrowing the money for a short period of time to finance the inventories. On the surface of it, this sounds considerably more expensive than managing the manufacture within a single large international firm. However, Lehman figured out that borrowing money for a few days was more natural and cheaper if the money is borrowed short-term from a money-market fund; exploiting this idea, they quickly ran their business to many billions of dollars. Although the global revolution would scarcely have been possible without it, Lehman managed to keep its business secret from others long enough to give the appearance they were loaning without borrowing. A financial market in panic withdrew its investments from Lehman and brought it down. We are now left with the question, is globalized manufacture really cheaper than confining manufacture within a single country, or at most within a single international corporation? No doubt, the answer at any given time depends on a multitude of factors, but the financing of inventories is certainly one of them. No matter how it turns out, it will be a pretty close call, as all of the arguments about privatization which it strongly resembles. We cannot afford to have economic decisions of this magnitude depend on faulty reasoning, derived from ideology about the motives of private versus public reimbursement.

Michael Dell, the Millionaire Teen-ager.

Michael Dell

The Franklin Institute gives out an annual award for business innovations, and a few years ago it was given to Michael Dell. The banquet is very splendid and well-attended by people willing to pay high prices. So, it happened that the founder of Dell Computers was wandering around the dinner table where I was seated. Being a gregarious sort of guy, he introduced himself and told his story.

As he relates it, his mother gave him a new IBM portable computer for his 19th birthday. So, he took it upstairs to his bedroom along with a screwdriver, and took it all apart.

Dell Computer

What he discovered annoyed his mother, but intrigued the birthday guests. Every single part of the computer was composed of articles obtained from other manufacturers. So he got in touch with these parts makers and asked for their prices. His discovery was that he could assemble a duplicate computer for half the price his mother had paid. One thing led to another, and he was soon producing Dell computers for much less than IBM was selling them. Naturally, there is a market for such a product, particularly if they were sold without middle-men, mail-order. And in the course of a short time, he became a billionaire, IBM got out of the business, and it was all his. As is so common with stories like this, he eventually went bust and was soon engaged in new adventures. But he took his screwdriver to other tables, and we never did hear about those later exploits.

A Civilian Home From the Sea

Carol and Bill Doane

Bill Doane died in 2017, at the age of 95+, after a long career as Chief of Surgery in Santa Barbara, California. This letter was found among the relics of his former roommate at the Pennsylvania Hospital, the nation's first one, established in 1751 by Benjamin Franklin. With the aid of retrospect, we know he was to marry Carol Smith, who worked at the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, and after some wanderings, settled in an upscale hospital in California, eventually dying at an advanced age in a Santa Barbara retirement village, where he was the daily tennis partner of Bill Scranton, the former Pennsylvania Governor. He did a lot of third-world traveling and surgical volunteering, out of which grew the founding of an international non-profit organization to distribute American hospital equipment to places like Afghanistan.

W.A. Doane
USS Essex (CUA 9)
F.P.O. --San Francisco
Feb 20, 1954

Dear George, Stu, Georgie,Miriam (any others?)

I've enjoyed hearing from you immensely. Your Christmas Card was first and more recently. Carol forwarded a note from Stu. Needless to say, I gobbled the P.H. news voraciously. It really sounds like an old home week, with Twadddell, Deaver Alexander, Dinon, Cretzmeyer, J. Johnston, and Rakov holding the fort. The big news from the East China Sea is I'll be getting off this bucket in late March or early April and will be separated in early April. Our second offspring should be dropping in on us shortly thereafter and as soon as things get stabilized, I'll be in Philly to horse around and of course, come back to Pennsy for a look see. My plans for practice are still a trifle nebulous. I'd love to practice around Philly but I certainly hate the thought of hanging on for 2 years before I make a living. Keep your ear out to check the keyhole for me, Geo., and let me know of any golden or even castiron opportunities. Our year in San Diego was very pleasant, and if things don't seem very propitious about Philadelphia -- we might even settle in Southern California.

Our oldest (and only child at this writing) is really a delight to the old man. I just never realized that paternity could be so richly rewarding. I guess you never really look at kids until you have one yourself.

My travels in the Orient have been a bit restricted but I did get a few days in Hawaii and have had a quick tour of Yokosuka (?), Yokahanna and Tokyo. I find Japan quite fascinating. It's just not possible to tell anyone about it adequately ters the little toy people and their way of life are so different from ours. My overall impression is definitely favorable. They are exceedingly industrious, clean, pleasant and clever craftsmen. Also, they purvey very good beer in very large bottles for very small amounts of YEN, I can see how a guy could really go to pot out here. All drinks at the "O" Club at Yokosuka are 25 cents, and when you have been to sea for 3 weeks it's rather easy to accumulate a lot of quarters.

The money situation over here is a riot. When we neared Japanese waters, all hands were ordered to change their YONKEE DOLLAs for MPC-- military payment currency. The resemblance between this medium of exchange and Dick Tracy play money is striking. They make it in every amount from 5 cents up, and all are different sizes and shapes, and all are paper. So you go ashore on the naval base with pockets bulging with MPC. Before you can go out the gate into the town and buy anything-- you must exchange MPC for YEN--Jap currency. Again, you get a bale of flimsy colored paper in every conceivable shape.

$ 1.00 m PC = 360 YEN so you can see you have to have large pockets to carry it all. Every time you reach into your pocket for dough - a few stray scraps of YEN float away as you bring your hand out. The Japs are understandably anxious to relieve us of as much cabbage as possible and they have a large variety of ways of doing it. By far the largest business is, of course, the girl-sans. There's a pimp on every corner and every cabaret in town is loaded with Japanese dollies from age 15 to 25 -- all available for a price. Apparently, the price is always right because they do a booming business.I'm amazed our VD rate isn't 10 x as high.

Japanese hot baths (hotsy botsy as the Japs call them) are extremely popular with the troops. Sightseeing and shopping opportunities are endless. Cultured pearls, brass ware, silk, silver -- are all supposedly "best buys" over here. I'm just a typical tourist and am loading it up with all sorts of items. Cameras are dirt cheap here. If you know any of the fellows at the hospital that would like a camera, I might be able to bring one back. Don't noise this around too much, however. A Nikon f1.4 is about $120, and about $275-300 in the US. An Argus C-3 is $41 with case and flash, and $69 in the US. So it goes. (There will be a small carrying charge of course for all but G.R.F.)

I've rambled on at great length but it's time to hit the pad so must close.

Very best regards to you.

Bill

P.S. Give my regards to all the group.