Get ready for a mind-expanding trip with LSD guru Timothy Leary on Open Vault. We’ve just posted LSD: Lettvin vs. Leary, an extraordinary hour-long debate from 1967, shot before a packed house at MIT’s Kresge Auditorium.
The posting comes in connection with a radio feature story heard recently on WGBH 89.7 by local Morning Edition host Bob Seay. (Click on the icon under the date to hear the story.) It’s about some young researchers at Harvard Medical School who have cracked open the door to the LSD vault, which has pretty much been locked for more than forty years.
Leary speaks first. Dressed in Indian-style tunic and trousers, he makes his case mainly in darkness, with psychedelic images flickering on a screen behind him. He describes LSD as a sacrament, a psychedelic technique that enables us to reach a deeper level of thinking and inspiration. “It’s a gamble,” Leary acknowledges:
It’s Russian Roulette…I don’t know the effects of LSD on the nervous system…[But] of all the Russian Roulette games I see around me, including Vietnam and polluted air, I would say the Russian Roulette of LSD is about the best gamble in the house.
Lettvin then takes the stage. In his short-sleeved shirt and pocket protector, he seems like a character in a different play. He offers an impassioned critique of Leary’s case, based in part on his experience as a senior psychiatrist in an addict ward. “I look upon you as a fundamentally vicious tool of the devil,” he says to Leary, “and I will explain to you why.”
Lettvin compares the effects of another drug, alcohol, with those of LSD, focusing on what he calls LSD’s “return trips,” the repeated episodes that sometimes follow a single dose of the drug. “You pay for whatever visions you get by this loss in judgment,” he says, “the loss of judgment that stays and stays.”
He sums up his criticism of Leary’s case with one word. “[It’s] not a scientific word, wrote a critic in the Boston Globe, [but] sometimes the right word has to come from the street.”
The film was produced by Austin Hoyt, and shot and edited by Boyd Estus.
If you’ve been following this blog with any sort of regularity, which we hope’s the case, you are by now well aware that the WHDH-TV cards often reveal only one small glimpse into the larger news story they reference. One measly, unsatisfying glimpse: that’s usually all we get.
That was the case with a recent series of cards I encountered about the Infill Housing Program of 1968, a development project which broke ground in November of that year. Thanks to the folks at the Internet Archive and the Boston Public Library–who together have digitized and made (easily) accessible a great many of Boston’s public records–I was able to get a clear understanding of the history of the Infill Housing Program in Boston, and Roxbury in particular.
The Infill Housing Program of 1968, organized by the Boston Redevelopment Authority (BRA) under the supervision of director Hale Champion, was designed to re-purpose vacant lots in city neighborhoods into some 2,000 single-family and multi-story housing units for low-income families around Boston. Known also as “vest pocket” housing, for the way in which construction ‘slips’ in to already portioned off land, the Infill Housing concept of the late 1960s called for the construction of industrially-produced, precast concrete modular housing on vacant, tax-foreclosed lots in Boston, namely in the South End, North Dorchester, and Roxbury. The majority of the Infill structures were four story buildings designed to house two ‘large’ families in a duplex arrangement. Despite their concrete gut, the apartments were brick-faced and considered architecturally attractive for the time (see: exterior of an Infill prototype). The other structural type was wood-framed.
Mayor Kevin White sold the $47 million Infill idea to the Boston City Council in October 1968 by promising the project wouldn’t cost the city a thing: the Federal government would cover the costs of plans and loans, and private developers would see to the actual building. The first year of construction was to cost $16 million. The White administration claimed that the use of private development firms using mass production techniques would help reduce waste, save money, and speed up construction. The Development Corporation of America (DCA), who had claimed that the construction of the frames for each four-story house would take no longer than one day, won the largest contract. (Another firm, Housing Innovations, took a small amount of units). While the DCA covered the construction of the Roxbury and South End iterations, the Boston Housing Authority took charge of renting the units upon completion to a select group of low-incomes tenants under a subsidized rental program. Once occupied, the houses were to be run and managed by a tenant cooperative.
Opposition to the project was swift and vociferous. It ranged from issues related to structural design and density to social prejudice, especially in the predominately white areas. Mrs. Louise Day Hicks, then councilor-elect, called the program an “ill-conceived, selfish-interest-spawned, giveaway program.” Councilors Thomas I. Atkins and Frederick C. Langone objected to the plan’s speedy presentation to the City Council, despite their eventual approval. Langone said that even “the administrator of the Model Cities [a wide-ranging plan to revitalize many city services in Roxbury and North Dorchester] admitted to us he had not read the document which came before us.” Local residents complained that, unlike large private contractors, the city never afforded them the opportunity to purchase the vacant lots for housing or other purposes. Others worried that the large family units would take up dwindling open space that otherwise may have been used as a public park or play area for children.
All things considered, Roxbury was to see 400 units of family housing as result of the Infill program. The project broke ground on Intervale Street in Roxbury in late November 1968, and by 1973, after delays had pushed the start of real construction back to 1971, a little over 100 units in 18 structures were built to various stages of completion. Eleven buildings were constructed in Roxbury. However that was to be the extent of the progress. The DCA filed for bankruptcy in April 1973, leaving half-completed buildings to remain vacant on once vacant lots. The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) inherited the properties. The structures that were completed soon proved to be structurally deficient: the slabs of pre-stress concrete pulled apart and the roofs leaked. Social problems arose as a result of the some 315 families living together in the various apartment buildings, and by 1976 the tenant cooperative had faded away. Robert Walsh, the deputy director of the BRA from 1971-1976, explained the project’s failure in two short sentences: “Simply speaking it was a damn good idea. It just broke down in execution.”
Save for a few residents who admitted that they were better off in the new units despite the issues, the Infill Housing Plan of the late 1960s and early 70s was a failure. One piece of a larger political and civic effort in the 1960s and 70s to revitalize declining U.S. neighborhoods following the creation of President Lyndon Johnson’s HUD in 1965, the Infill Housing program, like many other HUD-run projects, failed for a number of reasons: overzealous private contractors who promised too much too quickly; building materials whose cost inflated in the run up to construction, especially for precast concrete; an absence of on-site security; and, perhaps most tellingly, a lack of serious support from local residents. The Boston Globe found fault within the very structure of HUD itself. “Money flowed into the cities during the late ‘60s and early ‘70s,” one 1977 article reads, “but the expertise needed to make the programs work (proper inspection of homes whose mortgages were to be federally insured, and educating the poor, first-time homeowner and provisions for escalating costs) did not come built into the programs.”
Please share your memories of the Infill Housing Program’s controversial history in the comment section below. What do you remember?
As an intern at WGBH, I have watched over 50 episodes of the Elliot Norton Reviews in an effort to catalogue the successful series of theater-related interviews that ran from 1958 to 1982. While I have come across several plays that I am all too familiar with, including Richard III, The Threepenny Opera, Annie, The King and I, Pirates of Penzance, and The Elephant Man, I am grateful to have also been introduced to many plays that may have otherwise never crossed my path. Endgame at Kiryat Gat is one of the more interesting plays I have been exposed to and wish to share with all of you.
On March 4, 1980, Elliot Norton interviewed director Nola Chilton and actors Scott Richards and Ellen Finholt about two plays at the Spingold Theatre at Brandeis University in Waltham, MA in an episode of the Elliot Norton Reviews titled “Israeli Plays at Brandeis.” Naim is based on the novel, “The Lover,” by A.B. Yehoshua and adapted by Nola Chilton; Endgame at Kiryat Gat is based on a short story of the same name by John Auerbach, and adapted by Nola Chilton and Itzik Weingarten.
Perhaps because of my undying love for Samuel Beckett, I was immediately drawn to Endgame at Kiryat Gat, which takes place in an actual development town in the Negev Desert. Chilton explains to Norton that the Moroccan Jewswho immigrated to this town in the 1950s, came from a culture based on agriculture. As they developed into an industrial town, however, the second generation became quite different from the first.
She goes on to talk about the relevance of this play in regards to the current relationship between the European or Ashkenazi Jews and the influx of Moroccan Jews, which she referred to as “Oriental Jews.” In her opinion, the relationship between the two groups was becoming strained as the “Oriental Jews” were beginning to outnumber the European Jews as 55% of the population. Of this turbulent relationship, she tells Norton, “Where people are, there cannot be equality. Where people are, there’s conflict and there’s a kind of struggle and there is always a confrontation and I think that the healthy survive. And that’s our only hope.” Since this episode aired, a large population of Jews from the former Soviet Union immigrated to this town in the 1990’s.
Chilton explains that the play is about several members of this second generation of Moroccan Jews, who set up a little theater in an effort to bring respect to their family’s name. Scott Richards plays the theater director and Ellen Finholt’s husband. In Chilton’s words, “a crazy hippy American” comes wandering through town and has the idea that he can get the theater to put on Samuel Beckett’s play, Endgame. He believes this modern generation of Moroccan Jews can relate to the “nowhereness, pain, and suffering” in the play. He does his best to change them, break them down, and make them feel these things. In the end, however, they are strong and he is the one that breaks down in sorrow and emptiness.
What message do you take from this play?
How might this play be performed differently today, over 30 years later?
Can you see another setting that would work for this type of plot?