Telling the Truth

Let’s start with this lovely photo.

The Yard
Remember that gorgeous yard outside Langdell Hall? Well, it’s right outside the window just behind me. See that sleeveless blouse I’m wearing? That means it’s June or July, 1966. I’m guessing the curtains are partially closed to keep out the heat. No air conditioning.

So why mention the yard outside? Because I don’t want to look out there and see what’s happening. Neither does that bewigged man on the wall who seems to have nothing better to do.

Things get a little laid back in the summer. Double mattresses, some occupied, begin appearing in the yard every evening. Not just for sleeping.

What I see leads to embarrassment, revulsion and anger. I’m not sure why. I didn’t ask to be a voyeur! I look the other way.

The Office
It’s summer. Time to get things organized for the coming semester. That’s why the cardboard boxes and papers are sitting there. Regular office work needs to happen, too. Which is why I’m typing a letter.

Organization happens on multiple levels. Most basic for letters and memos would be our yellow onion skin pages. Did you notice them?

• Four collections of yellow pages held together with accro fasteners, on desk corner
• One manila file with yellow pages, standing on the deskfront
• One (extra) yellow page at the back of all yellow pages inserted into my typewriter

You’re looking at an efficiently organized non-electronic office archive. This is Mr. Griswold’s fail-safe method for finding anything and everything. Believe me, it works.

Don’t we have files in drawers? Of course we do. That’s where the second-from-last onion skin pages will go. The rest of the onion skins are carbon copies that go to all the right people. It’s really very efficient. Type the letter once, and you’re done!

Back to the yellow pages. They beat everything! Each of the four collections on the corner of my desk is dated. One for each month, as I recall.

We punch and insert by date, from the bottom up, a yellow copy of every typed letter or memo sent from Mr. Griswold’s office each month. Good for you if you can remember where the other copy got filed. But maybe you didn’t type that letter. Hence the handy organized yellow backups.

Several shelves in the executive secretary’s front office are devoted to the most recent of these archives. Others are in storage. This system saved my bacon a couple of times. Good thing we didn’t have a fire.

My Desk
Nothing on my desk is superfluous. There’s stuff there, but it’s all usefully organized. Like Mr. Griswold’s desk. He wants us to look professional, but he cares more about what the letters look like and how quickly we can find whatever he needs.

In the picture I’m focused on my steno pad. It’s a supremely organized record of dictated letters and notes. Yes, they too are dated and kept for future reference–until I leave.

Then there’s the Dictaphone on the little table by the wall. Did you see the headset? This is a very well-organized machine. It even has a little foot pedal on the floor. I can speed it up, slow it down, go backwards, and go forwards.  Sort of like driving a car.

All I have to do is insert the cartridge and voilà! I hear Mr. Griswold dictating a letter! Definitely high-end organizational technology compared to my steno pad, though Mr. Griswold dictates most letters in person.

The best part of all is my electric typewriter. It has a return key instead of an exhausting hand-powered lever that noisily jerks the platen back to the other end. I just hit the return key once and keep typing! I can also rewind the ribbon to use it again. I wonder what they’ll think of next?

To be continued. . .

Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 April 2015