Life’s Lessons Learned #54: Nancy Lee Ogle

This was one of the more difficult blog entries to write. There are two reasons for this. First, it covers certain events of my life that I would like to forget. Second, I find my memory of the events actually is gone. In addition, there are no photos to enhance this entry.

One of the people that I took out for dinner during my time with First PA Bank was Nancy Lee Ogle. She was the bank’s training officer that I met during my first week in Philadelphia. I would like to put a picture of her right about here in this blog entry, but I don’t have any. Strangely, I was also unable to locate any mention of her, let alone a picture, on the Internet.

Nancy was my first wife. So, since there are memory gaps, let’s consider what I actually remember? Nancy was my age. She was quite intelligent. However, at 25 she was still living with her parents. She was of average height, and a bit thin, and very attractive. She had long, light brown hair that was rather fine. She also had several wigs that she wore. In 1970, when we married, a popular fad was young women wearing pre-styled wigs. In fact, Fulton Bank in Lancaster had wig boutiques in each of their branches, and gave wigs away as an incentive for opening a new account. (LCFNB gave away silver bowls and First PA gave away blenders.)

I was living above Givant’s Deli at the time, and when she would come up to visit in Lancaster, she would tell her parents that she was staying at the Swan Hotel. The Swan Hotel was a bar at the end of the street. It was a very old (colonial) establishment owned by a friend of mine, Howie Mundorf. It was agreed that if her parents ever called for her, he would say she was out, and then call me, and she would phone them back.

When we became engaged, I gave Nancy the 1½-carat diamond ring mentioned in my October 15th blog. After about a year dating we were married on August 10th 1970. I do not remember, whatsoever, any of our dates! I do remember, however, that shortly before the wedding I blew the engine in my Mercedes 190SL on a trip down to see her. We also found a new apartment just outside Lancaster at Valleybrook, and bought some furniture. In addition, Nancy had some furniture from her parents.

Prior to the wedding Nancy and I spent some time in premarital counseling with my minister. The wedding was a small affair, with mostly immediate family, at a church just a bit north of Philadelphia. After the ceremony, we took off in her car for a short honeymoon at the Williamsburg Hotel in Virginia.

Big Surprise #1: On day one, on the way to breakfast, Nancy began to cry. I asked what was wrong. At that time she told me that she had made a terrible mistake – that she did not want to be married to me or anybody else! She said that she really was just trying to get away from her family. It was a strange few platonic days of a honeymoon, and we then returned to Lancaster. We contacted both a marriage counselor, and my minister, to meet with us. They both recommended that we get a divorce. Since he had blessed the union, my minister was especially apologetic.

At the end of week #2 of our marriage, I was scheduled to attend a weekend training session for chapter officers with the Pennsylvania Jaycees (I was the incoming treasurer of the Lancaster Jaycees). When I returned, she was gone from the apartment. Her father and brother had moved her out. All that was left was the furniture and rugs that I had bought, and financed, at two local stores.

I contacted a local attorney, John Hartman, who had been my business law professor in college, and who was the solicitor for LCFNB. John owned a small apartment in town within walking distance of LCFNB that he rented me. He asked me what I wanted to do, and I said that I wanted to do whatever she wanted to make her happy. He said that the state of Pennsylvania (at that time) did not have “no-fault” divorces. She would, therefore, claim “indignities” as grounds, go in front of a divorce master (judge appointed), and with her attorney list a series of horrible things about me. I would not appear in court to offer a defense, and she would be granted a divorce. There would be no alimony, or costs, to me. John waived his fee. My thought was that she had the $2,000+ ring that would more than cover her costs.

As a side story, John also offered to sponsor me for membership in the downtown businessmen’s private club – The Hamilton Club. It was about a block from the apartment, and was sort of a city version of the Lancaster County Club. This posed a bit of a dilemma for me. The Hamilton club was not only exclusive, it was also restrictive with no Jewish or persons of color as members. In 1963 (as a freshman), along with other students, I had protested the President of Franklin & Marshall being offered a membership in the club, and he subsequently declined. I did not want to insult John, so I said that I thought that it would be better if I waited until LCFNB proposed me for membership (all of senior management were members).

Big Surprise #2: A year passed… I had not heard anything from Nancy or the court in Norristown since my initial invitation to the hearing to testify (which I declined). I finally called the court, and was referred to Nancy’s attorney. He told me that they had a problem. It seems that they had proceeded as they would normally do, and although I did not appear at the hearing, the court had turned her down. She, basically, had lost an “uncontested” divorce. They were preparing an appeal – which they eventually won. I never looked to see what sort of things they had to claim to win this divorce from a “one-day marriage” on appeal.

Some years later, my mother contacted me and told me that Nancy was looking for a current address for me. It seems that she was remarrying (a catholic) and was attempting to get her first marriage annulled. I never heard from her.

Big Surprise #3: For at least a year after the marriage I was a social hermit. Then one night there was a ring of my doorbell. A woman acquaintance of mine was there. She came in and said that it was time that I got out of my funk. She said that she was there to spend the night – and she did. It was only that one night, and years later I sang at her wedding. It was time to move on.

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Life’s Lessons Learned #53: A Few Bars in Philadelphia

A young man from the likes of Lancaster could be a bit overwhelmed by the “big city” of Philadelphia. You can, however, only spend so much time reading and watching television in your hotel room. I ventured out into the city. The Bellevue was well located, about a block or two from City Hall – which marked the center of Philadelphia. My car was put away somewhere in a garage, but there was much to see and do within walking distance. There were interesting shops and restaurants within blocks of the hotel, and I took the advice of Charlie Bender and began to treat myself to some good food. I also discovered a few interesting bars.

Behind Wanamaker’s Department Store, in an alley was McGillin’s Olde Ale House, the oldest pub in continuous operation in Philadelphia (established 1860). In 2007, the national trade magazine Nightclub and Bar included McGillin’s in its Editors’ Choice Top 100 bars and clubs in the United States. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McGillin’s_Olde_Ale_House) McGillan’s was an Irish themed pub, that was always lively, and loud. I remember one Saint Patrick’s Day night when I saw people circumvent the bouncer/doorman by crawling into the pub through a bathroom window! I enjoyed nights at McGillan’s.

McGillan’s Olde Ale House

I found another interesting bar, by word of mouth. I had been told about a place that was frequented by every conceivable sort from bank presidents – to politicians – to working stiffs. Their website (http://www.dirtyfranksbar.com) states the following:

“Dirty Franks, a local watering hole dating back to prohibition, has become somewhat of an “institution”. The scrawls, scribbles and writings on its walls prove that people from all walks of life have either stopped by on their travels, or made it their home.

Aspiring writers, starving artists, the political, apolitical and the apoplectic, drunkards and recovering drunkards, the bright and the dim, those who want to root for or jeer the home team, comics and fancies, musicians and dancers, the reserved and the verbose, your tired, your poor, and your huddled masses, are just some of whom make Dirty Franks what it is and has always been – a sanctuary.”

Now that was an interesting place to sit a spell and take up a conversation with those around you. One thing stands out in my memory of Dirty Franks. The place had a horseshoe shaped bar with a bathroom at each end of the shoe. This was the first and only place I had ever been that had two bathrooms, but did not designate one as men’s and the other as women’s. Today, with the recent discussion of transgender issues and bathroom selection, this bar was way ahead of its time. I have not been there in fifty years, but it appears that the place has cleaned up a bit from those days, when it was more of a corner bar. I enjoyed Dirty Frank’s.

Dirty Franks

In my bar hopping in downtown Philadelphia, not all of my excursions were as successful, but they were, none-the-less, memorable. One place I walked into turned out to be what was then called a “B-Bar” – a cheesy bar with hostesses hustling drinks. This was new to me, and I certainly had not sought it out. As soon as I sat down at the bar an attractive young woman sat next to me and asked if I would buy her a drink. I did so, and she quickly downed a shot glass filled with what was probably tea. I left right after that. There was another bar where I walked in and discovered the entire clientele was made up of well-dressed and well-groomed male couples, several of who looked up and smiled at me. I’m not gay, so I went back to Dirty Franks.

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Life’s Lessons Learned #52: Philadelphia

I do not remember certain specifics about my time at the First Pennsylvania Bank: (1) the year I was there, (2) and how many weeks/months I spent in Philadelphia. I know I was at least the third person from LCFNB to spend time training with our correspondent bank. The other two were: Charlie Bender (Credit Officer), and Charlie Van Dusen (Exec-VP and Commercial Lending Officer). I would leave very early Monday morning or Sunday night and drive to Philadelphia, where I would leave my car with the valet parking attendant, check into the hotel, and walk over to the bank. On Friday, after work, I would get my car back from the valet parking attendant, and drive back to Lancaster. The drive of 76 miles took two hours – allowing for traffic.

For all but two weeks of my training, I was a resident of the Bellevue Stratford Hotel on Broad Street. This hotel was, at the time, the grand old dame of Philadelphia hotels. In July 1976, the Bellevue became notorious as the site of the first known outbreak of Legionnaires Disease. 211 people were stricken, and 29 died, of what was, at the time, an unknown cause. Occupancy dropped to 4%, and the Hotel finally closed on November 18, 1976. It wasn’t until 1977 that the cause was isolated. The building is now a Hyatt property.

The Bellevue Stratford Hotel, circa 1976

My first week of training was conducted in a classroom, in a two-story building, above a Horn and Hardart automat. I joined a small class of about a dozen young male bank trainees for a one-week course on loan documentation. In this course we learned about the various paperwork that was necessary, at the time, to process commercial loans. It was a very complex process, and one that mirrored the paperwork at LCFNB. First Pennsylvania Bank was large enough that they had a full-time training person, Nancy Lee Ogle. From there I was assigned to the bank’s credit department, which was located in a building across the street.

The First PA Credit Department was in an upper floor. The department head, Wally Klosterman (sp?), was located in a glass-walled cubicle across from the entrance and overlooking a large open room filled with desks. Each of us had a desk, an adding machine, a phone, and our own slide rule. This time period predated personal calculators. We were given the job of first creating or updating spreadsheets for the bank’s commercial loan customers. It was necessary to have a minimum of three years for proper analysis, but longer histories were preferred. The spreadsheets covered balance sheets, operating statements, and various ratios for each. In addition, cash flow statements were developed to identify cyclical short-term working capital needs (for line of credit purposes). Our addition and subtraction was checked with an adding machine that generated a paper tape that was then attached to the spreadsheet. Our ratios were confirmed on the single Marchant calculator in the back of the room. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marchant_calculator)

Part of the training included learning the boilerplate terminology used to describe various financial statement characteristics. We learned how to discuss both positive and negative trends demonstrated in these financial statements. We also learned how to locate and discuss comparative trends in generalized industry financial statements (through what were then the ICS codes – now NAICS). This facilitated the analysis of the performance of a particular bank customer through comparison with others of similar size in the same industry.

The end objective of this process was the writing of a recommendation for approval or rejection of lending packages. Each bank has their own format for structuring these loan applications. LCFNB’s loan committee presentations followed quite closely the First PA Bank’s format. As I now look back on what I learned during this intensive training period, I am amazed at how complex, and in a way quite beautiful, these analyses were. Wally had developed this systematic approach to loan decision making.

Every write up that we did in this department had to be first typed, and then reviewed by Wally, before it was sent to the lending officer to take the appropriate lending committee. All of this was done on a very tight schedule. The financials would arrive in the department along with the customer’s file (history). The customer’s loan and deposit history with the bank would be gathered internally. The package would also include the initial request of the loan officer (line or loan amount and terms). The Credit Department would then complete: an analysis of the company’s financial performance, past deposit and loan balance relationship with the bank, industry comparisons and trends, and then develop a recommendation for action.

The bank had a secretary pool system. With this system, anything that was not typed by a personal secretary was sent over the phone and recorded. It was then typed by someone in the secretary pool and sent back to us through the bank’s interoffice mail system. At that time (late 1960s) there were no personal computers, and drafts were written in long hand in either cursive, or (if your cursive was illegible) print.

Wally was a strict task maker and ran a tight office. His recommendations (positive or negative), it was believed, would have a significant impact on the future advancement of bank management trainees. Among other things, all of the young men in the department wore long sleeve white shirts and conservative ties (as did Wally). The first Pa bank trainees in the department came to me after the first week, and asked if I would wear a colored shirt to work. They said that Wally might get mad, but that since I was there for a correspondent bank for training, I might be able to get away with it. The following Monday I came to work wearing a pink shirt and a very tasteful pink and green striped tie. Wally stood there and looked out over the room through his glass-walled office. He looked straight at me, and then sat down without a comment. By the end of the week, the office was filled with shirts (all quite tasteful) of many hues.

Later I would spend two weeks with the bank’s Factoring Department, a department that, I was told, was headed by a stylish dresser (rare in the pin-striped world of 1960’s banking). When I arrived there, and was introduced, he said that he had heard about the story of Wally and the colored shirts and wanted to meet me. Apparently, Wally was infamous for his white shirt only rule.

I did not spend enough money on my expense account. I come from frugal stock, and felt a bit awkward spending somebody else’s money. After my first two weeks in Philadelphia, I handed in my expense report (with receipts) for reimbursement. Charlie Bender pulled me aside and told me that I should at least double my spending. It seems that both he, and Charlie Van Dusen, had spent much more, and I would otherwise make them look bad. It was suggested that I treat at least one of the other trainees to lunch every day (making for future banking contacts), and eat my dinners each evening in restaurants.

Next up – the bars of Philadelphia…

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Life’s Lessons Learned #51: Credit Department

I was now the second graduate of the “LCFNB Management Training Program”. The first, Don Derstler, was a lending officer in the Mortgage Department, and I was placed in the Credit Department, where I would train to replace Charlie Bender. Charlie was then to be promoted to a Commercial Loan Officer.

The Credit Department was a small three-person department (often supplemented by a management trainee). The department had several responsibilities: (1) maintenance of files for each active commercial loan customer, (2) storage of closed commercial loan customer’s files, (3) preparation of applications for all lines of credit to be approved by either the bank’s Loan Committee or the bank’s Board of Directors, (4) working with the lending officer, make a recommendation to the committee/board, (5) responding to all external and internal reference requests for the bank’s commercial customers, and (6) the training of the bank’s management trainees in both financial statement analysis, and the bank’s commercial loan policies and procedures.

My new department was located in the rear on the main floor of LCFNB’s Main Office at 23 East King Street. As you entered the bank from King Street there was a small, all glass-walled, vestibule with two night teller windows on the left and a locked door on the right. The locked door led up a flight of stairs to a small room with a window that overlooked the main banking floor (some sort of security room, that I never saw put to use). From the vestibule you entered the main banking floor. There was a line of teller windows on the left front, at the end of which, were the head teller’s window, and a note (loan) teller’s window. At the far end of the teller line was the bank’s main cash vault, which was not accessible to the general public. One little side note here: inside the main cash vault the bank kept a $10,000 bill. I was told that this was the highest denomination bill ever printed. Our $10,000 bill had the picture of Salmon Chase on the front. Some Internet research has shown nine different $10,000 bill designs over history. Bills of this denomination were officially discontinued in 1969.

10000

On the right side of the main floor front was the “platform”. Here were located the branch manager, several commercial loan officers, and a couple of secretaries/new account clerks. Midway through the first floor there was the safe deposit box vault (on the left), an elevator to the upper floors (in the middle), an open hallway to executive offices, and a flight of stairs to the second floor balcony where there was an exit to a rear parking lot.

The Credit Department was located in the first two offices in the row of executive offices. Judy Sherts, the Credit Department filing clerk, occupied the first office. This room was filled with filing cabinets that held the bank’s commercial loan files. Joann Blank, the Credit Department secretary, sat outside of the second of the two offices, where Charlie and I had our desks. The remaining offices in this area housed two Vice-Presidents, two Executive Vice-Presidents, the President, and the Chairman of the Board of the Bank. Both the President and the Chairman had personal secretaries. Finally, in the back of this area was the bank’s Board Room.

At first I was responsible for answering external letter and phone inquiries about the bank’s customers. I was embarrassed to learn that my writing skills were not quite up to established standards, but I quickly developed an acceptable set of boilerplate responses. I was also called upon to make inquiries of other banks on behalf of our lending officers. I remember one particular case where one of our commercial lending officers suspected that one of his loan applicants was not listing all of his dealings. The Bank I had to call was a small bank in northern Lancaster County (Denver National Bank). Since it was a small, one-office, bank I asked the person who answered the phone if I might speak with the bank’s President. He replied, “Speaking.” I then asked if he would check to see if he possibly had our applicant as a customer. He answered back, “No, he doesn’t bank here.” I then followed with the suggestion that it might be only a checking account. His reply, “We only have one customer with that last name, and it isn’t him.” As an aside to this story, several years later a friend arranged for a blind date for me with a woman, who I discovered on the date, was that bank President’s daughter. However, I also learned that the small town bank President’s daughter was also the ex-wife of the then United Press International (UPI) White House correspondent.

After a few months in the Credit Department I was sent to Philadelphia to work and train under the wing of the man in charge of the First Pennsylvania Bank’s Credit Department, Wally Klosterman (sp?). While I do not remember exactly how long I was with First PA, it was a life changing experience, and will be the subject of my next blog entry.

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Life’s Lessons Learned #50: Audit Department

Farmers National Bank, Lancaster PA

Farmers National Bank, Lancaster PA

This beautiful old building was the main office of the Farmer National Bank (originally the Farmers Trust Company). It was located on the corner of Duke and King Streets. This bank merged with the Lancaster County National Bank to form Lancaster County Farmers National Bank (LCFNB). With the merger this building was converted to the bank’s Trust Department Office. I never got far enough in the management-training program to experience the Trust Department. However, the second floor rear of this building (see above) also housed the bank’s Audit Department. Sam Bomberger, a highly competent and respected banker, led this department. I went there shortly after my stay with the Mortgage Department, and was very welcome, because they were about to audit the Mortgage Department. I was the only one in the Audit Department who was familiar with the recently computerized Mortgage Department’s accounting system.

I also took part in a surprise audit of the Main Office teller’s cash. The day before that teller audit, as they were leaving the bank for the night, the tellers were told to come in 30 minutes early the next morning. In the morning, the staff of the Audit Department greeted them as they entered the bank, and went with each teller to the vault for their cash drawer, and then to their windows. There, the auditor counted and verified the cash in each cash drawer. As we started to do the counts, Sam bellowed out from the center of the office, “Where are your kitties!” One by one, the tellers then showed the auditor at their window their stash of small change – their “kitties” – that they used to balance their drawer when they counted out at the end of the day. It all added up to probably less than $10.00, but each teller had one. Sam walked up to Fiona Diffenderfer, the teller who had trained me, and said, “Where is it, Fiona?” She smiled and reached over to her vertical, metal, change holder, and shook it. It rattled! She then dumped a couple of dollars in coins out of the bottom of the tray.

There was a bit of excitement with this cash audit. In addition to the individual cash drawers, there were also two “floater drawers”. These were cash drawers used by part-time tellers when they worked at the main office. A number of different tellers used these two drawers, and records were kept of who was the last teller to use each drawer. One of the “floater drawers” was found to be thousands of dollars short. When she was contacted, the part-time teller who had last used and counted this drawer actually had a heart attack! The bank announced to the tellers that the FBI would be called in, and that each of the tellers was expected to take a lie detector test. I’m not sure if this was actually what would happen, but it was unnecessary. Quietly, the head teller admitted that he had taken the cash. Surprisingly, he was neither fired nor prosecuted. Apparently there was a compelling and sad family reason why he took the funds, and he made arrangements to repay the money. This never made the press. It was kept within the bank. This was one of several examples of institutional behavior over the years that made me respect my employer.

A special project was given to me while with the auditors. I was asked to develop, a bank policy and procedure for the charging off of bad loans, and one for periodic follow up for recovery. As part of this project I spent a good deal of time reviewing the past history of charged off loans at each of the two predecessor banks. During this effort I discovered a file for my great-great grandfather. I knew from my family research that he had been secretary of a watch manufacturing company at the end of the nineteenth century. That company had been reorganized as Hamilton Watch. My great-great grandfather, as a part of the reorganization, was the only one of the three investors in the Lancaster Watch Company (I now own three of the failed company’s watches) to retain stock in the newly formed company. During the great recession he borrowed money and used the Hamilton Watch stock as collateral. When he was unable to repay the loan, the stock was sold to partially do so. Later, when the bank was much larger, and I was in charge of the Credit Department (more on this in an upcoming blog), a separate department was established in the Commercial Loan Department to work on loan recovery from charged off commercial loans. My friend, who’s unfortunate bachelor party and stay at my apartment above Givant’s was described in an earlier blog, was put in charge of this department.

I don’t remember how long I was in the Audit Department, but it was one of the better learning experiences during my time as a management trainee.

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Life’s Lessons Learned #49: Local Politics

“All politics is local.” – Tip O’Neill

I guess it began with my rise to the top as President of Arroyo High School’s freshman class. It also came tumbling down as Willie Leighton sent me to ignominious defeat in our race to become the first “Commissioner of Clubs” in our senior year. As a saving grace, I did hang out a lot with Jack (our senior class President) and Kim (our student body President). I lost track of Jack, but Willie and Kim, although far flung away, are Face Book friends.

My Dad entertained two Presidents of the United States, Harry S. Truman and John F. Kennedy. Dad’s trio played at the White House for President Truman on the occasion of the dedication of the building’s rear porch. He played for JFK, prior to his election, at a rally in Salt Lake City. He also recorded a song, The JFK March, that is archived in the JFK Library in Boston.

In the early 1970s I almost got to work with Ronald Reagan. Some businessmen were developing an animatronics based ride/tour on a bus for the battlegrounds at Gettysburg. The narration for the tour was to be recorded by Ronald Reagan, and I was to record authentic Civil War period folk songs to be background music at various points in the tour. Alas, it never came to pass.

At one time I had an unvoiced desire to someday be the Mayor of Lancaster. My great-great grandfather, J. P. McCaskey, after spending 50 years as a teacher, had been Mayor of Lancaster from 1906 through 1910. The closest that I ever got to that was serving as the campaign chair for Thomas J. Monaghan’s reelection campaign in 1969. We were successful, but it turned out that he was crooked, and pled nolo contendre to bribery charges. The center of the campaign was the slogan “Keep Building With Monaghan”. That referred to the complete demolition of all of the buildings (and businesses) in the second block of the downtown business area, and the erection of a new downtown square. This was all based on what was then called the Philadelphia Model of redevelopment. In the process dozens of 18th and 19th century storefronts were torn down. In the long run it was an abject failure. Some of the investment money had come from a Judge in Philadelphia and his wife. They were subsequently convicted of illegal payoffs, including one to the Mayor of Lancaster.

I had said yes to Tom when he asked me to chair the campaign because I felt that I had a family debt to pay off. My maternal grandmother was a simple and plain person. She was a big fan and supporter of Tom Monaghan. He had also been Mayor of Lancaster from 1958 to 1962, and when he was first elected in 1958 there were patronage jobs to be distributed to his faithful supporters. He asked my grandmother what sort of job she would like. Well, grandma had not gone past the third grade, and could not read. She realized that there was nothing that she could do in city hall, but asked for a job in maintenance. She got the job cleaning the public toilets in the town square. Now this is not all that much to brag about, but I remember how time and again she would talk about how her friend, the Mayor, had given her a job. I’m not sure, but I believe that it was the only job, besides housewife, that she ever had. I paid back that debt, for the sense of pride he gave my grandmother, by helping him get reelected again.

This was my second time as a campaign manager. The year before (1968) I was asked to co-chair a campaign for John Pittenger, a candidate for the Pennsylvania State Assembly. I was not asked because of any special talent that I brought to the job. I was asked because I was a local “banker”. I was probably the only “banker” in Lancaster that was a registered Democrat. Lancaster County was a solidly Republican county. The few elected Democrats in the county were from the city, and they were quite rare. Mayor Monaghan had put together a coalition of union workers from eighth ward (Cabbage Hill), the African-Americans from the seventh ward, and the college faculty from the northwest end of town. John was an amazing retail politician who fully subscribed to all politics being local. In the buildup to Election Day he actually visited every single household in the city, and he always asked for their vote. He also taught the Lancaster City republicans how to split their ticket. I think that he won by something like 300 votes.

John later lost his reelection bid when he faced, in one of the only two heavily democratic Wards (8th Ward), the local issue of scattered site public housing. At that time, the only public housing was in the only other democratic Ward (7th Ward) The 7th Ward also happened to be the only area with any sizable minority population. In a town hall meeting the republican candidate race baited with the suggestion that public housing would significantly lower property values. When John was asked his opinion he said that it was a personal value issue, and that he would never have to legislate on in the Assembly, and then didn’t answer the question. It cost him his reelection. Years later John was being courted to run for the U.S. Senate by the Pennsylvania Democratic Party leadership, and met with me with an offer to work on the campaign. I declined. He eventually chose to not run, and accepted the position of Dean of the Rutgers’s Law School.

During the late 1960s I was elected the Democratic Committeeman for my precinct, 2nd Ward – 1st Precinct. The precinct was heavily republican in those days. It is now strongly democratic, as is most of the City of Lancaster. Pittenger’s old seat is now a “safe” seat. When he first won (my stint as co-chair), it had been republican for many decades.

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