Oral History Interview with
					NANCY C. ROCKEFELLER

				by Esther H. Smith

						Copyrightc~ 1978 The Greenwich Library

						Greenwich, Connecticut

pr 1. g 1978

Greenwich Library
Greenwich, Connecticut

						

	                 Use of this Transcript

The reader should keep in mind that this interview represents the recollections and point of view of one person only. To verify historical facts, the information should be checked with other sources.

This edition has been prepared by the Oral History Project of the Friends of the Greenwich Library. The project was conceived by Barbara Bloch in 1973 in connection with the national Bicentennial and was sponsored originally by the Historical Society of the Town of Greenwich and the Greenwich Library.

The material has been edited to improve narrative flow and to make it more readable than the verbatim transcript, but the words are the narrator’s and have not been changed. Portions have been transposed to improve continuity and segments of a later version, dictated by the narrator in 1976, have been blended in to supplement the original text. Proper names have been left as spoken, but can be found fully expanded in the index. The original text of the interview, the complete text of the dictated version, in which ‘the narrator acknowledges the help of many more people, and the tapes are stored in the Greenwich Library for those who wish to refer to them.

ORAL HISTORY PROJECT

FRIENDS OF THE GREENWICH LIBRARY

CHAIRMAN — Barbara Ornstein

LIBRARY LIAISON — Marion Nicholson

EDITOR - Catherine McNamara

Betty S. Cullen
Judith Keig
Esther H. Smith

PRODUCTION -	Helen R. Simpson Allyn Budington

PORTRAIT - Karl Gleeson

This publication has been made possible by a gift from

Tissa Rockefeller Stone

	Nancy C. Rockefeller
…. was born in New York City on December 15, 1900, the daughter of Bertha Sherlock and Andrew Carnegie 2nd.

She lived on Cumberland Island, Georgia, during her girlhood years and was educated at the Foxcroft School in Middleburg, Virginia, class of 1919. After her marriage to James Stillman Rockefeller in 1925, she moved to Greenwich, where she has lived for the past fifty—two years.

Mrs. Rockefeller has four children: James Stillman, Jr., of Camden, Maine; Nancy Copp of Memphis, Tennessee; Andrew C. of Greenwich; Georgia Rose of New York City; and fifteen grandchildren.

Ever since her arrival in Greenwich, Mrs. Rockefeller has been an active volunteer in social service. She has received numerous citations for her work in the Greenwich conmunity and was the first recipient of the Greenwich Time Clubwoman of the Year award in 1964. In 1977 she received the first certificate presented by the Greenwich Exchange Club to the Outstanding Citizen of Greenwich, and has twice been cited by the Nutmegger with cover stories on her work at The Mews and Nathaniel Witherell. In the June, 1978, issue, she and William Sherman were named Nutmeggers of the Decade for their “outstanding devotion to the Town of Greenwich and its people.”

In addition to her leadership in the organizations discussed in her narration, Mrs. Rockefeller has been a member of the Greenwich Hospital Men’s Board and Women’s Board. She is a member of OAR, Hortulus, the advisory committee of the Commission on Aging, Homemaker Service, MerryGo—Round, and the Nathaniel Witherell Auxilliary.

This interview was done for the friends of the Greenwich Library by Esther H. Smith on October 3, 1975, at The Mews, Bolling Place.

MEETING THE NEEDS OF A COMMUNITY

An interview with

NANCY C. ROCKEFELLER

by Esther H. Smith

SMITH:	Mrs. Rockefeller, you’ve had such a full life. I wonder if you could start at the beginning and tell about your entrance into Greenwich as a bride.

ROCKEFELLER:	Well, we were married in 1925, and I came to Greenwich to live in ‘26, and I’ve been here ever since. My mother-in-law, Mrs. William G. Rockefeller, is really the person that put me on the map in Greenwich because she was responsible for doing so much for Greenwich, The first thing she did was to buy the lot where the Merry-Go-Round clubhouse and the Greenwich Center [for Child and Family Service] now stand. She ran a day nursery in the present little red house, and I was put on the board. And through that I became terribly interested in everything that was going on in Greenwich.

Miss Mary Lanier (later Mrs. Irving Day] was caring for war orphans in a home [Emily Bruce Shelter] in Bruce Park. Mary’s helpers gave out, and the problem was where would the children go. Mrs. Winfield Shiras and I decided to take them and found a children’s shelter for children who needed temporary care for one reason or the other. We gathered quite a few of our friends together, and we rented a house on the corner of the Post Road where the A&P is now. We took the two matrons that Mary Day had, a Mrs. Riley and a Miss Jackson, and we moved them in with about ten children.

We were in our early twenties and knew nothing about social work or anything like that, but we felt that we could run it. And looking back, I don’t know how we did it. The first week end we went down to see if everything was all right, and the matron had run off with two of the children. I have to laugh, because Mrs. Wonham had to chase all over Long Island to find them. Well, we found them and got them back, and everything was all right.

We ran the Greenwich Shelter on the Post Road for quite a few years. We would go to the Board of Estimate for funds because we thought that it was charity that the Town of Greenwich should take care of. I can remember going many times and hearing Roger Baldwin say, 1’Well, what are you girls here for?’1 And Mrs. Coombe, who was the treasurer, would get up and say, “Well, we need thirty-five thousand dollars to run the shelter.” And we generally got it.

But at that point in Greenwich there was only one charitable organization that I can remember, and that was the Social Service
League with one worker. And I suppose we surprised the Board of Estimate so much that, not knowing what else to do, they gave us the money. We’d have a drive to make up the difference in the budget.

It was all volunteer work at the shelter. The main purpose, really, of the shelter was to take children if the mother became ill and had to go to the hospital, or had a large family and her husband deserted her, or if she was having a new baby. We would take the children until they could return home. We were supposed never to keep a child over four weeks.

When we first took over Mary Day’s children from the Bruce Park house, there were two children who were mentally unfit to be with other children. And that, I think, is where I got sort of mixed up with the Nathaniel Witherell. We asked the Nathaniel Witherell if they would take them until such time as we could place them in Newtown. And they did. I remember going up to see them and finding them out in the broiling sun tied to a tree. And this upset me so that, from then on in, I became terribly interested in Nathaniel Witherell, which was at that point run as what we called a pesthouse. There was a TB ward, and anybody who had any contagious disease was sent up there. It was under the Board of Health, and I hate to say it, but it was very poorly run.

Well, to go back to the shelter, it was all volunteer work. None of us had any experience with social work. In fact, I think in that day there were no social workers as we call them now. We just went on and did it; used our common sense.
 I was what was called “the investigator,” which would really be a terrible thing to be called at this point. I can remember going into every home, I think, in Greenwich that needed us. I think I knew almost everybody in Chickahominy and they became great friends. 
I can’t quite remember how many children we could take, but I think it was around twenty. We fed them and had a playroom on the ground floor, and they slept on the second floor. And I think, personally, we did a pretty good job for amateurs, with two matrons and a cook. 
After a few years the board decided we really should get a professional worker. At that time professionals were just coming into being. I remember the first one we had at the shelter, which I think probably was the first social worker- that Greenwich ever had, was a Miss Bolster. And I can see her now. She wore large spectacles, which in those days was not the vogue. She had dark hair cut in a Dutch bob and was a very nice person. She took over my job of investigating. She was the one that decided who we’d take, and she really ran the place for several years till Mrs. Brinckerhoff came to us. 
We look back and think of all the terrible things that could have happened, but the Lord took care of us. Nothing ever happened to any of the children, nor can I remember any terrible crisis.
Along about 1932, I think it was, my mother—in—law, Mrs. William G. Rockefeller, who adored children, decided that we really were doing quite a good job. She already owned the strip from Arch Street back to the present center. Mrs. Rockefeller built the present lovely brick building in back of the nursery for the shelter. Her great friend, Theodore Blake, was the architect. My sister—in—law, Mrs. Godfrey Rockefeller, was the first president in the new building, and it continued as the Greenwich Shelter till 1936.

My mother—in—law died in 1935. She left the shelter to my sister—in—law, and the day nursery building came to me. After that II talked to my sister-in—law and we decided that, seeing that the shelter was for children, it would be better to move the day nursery children from 38 Arch Street into the shelter and have all the children together, leaving the house on Arch Street free to do something else. And so that’s what happened. All the day nursery children were moved back to the shelter, and in due time they became a family welfare center and changed the name to Greenwich Center, with a staff of social workers.

Well, along about that time we had the terrible Depression. And I’d been a great friend of Georgina Davids, who was the Charity Commissioner at that point in one room at the Town Hall. Mrs. Stevens, the former commissioner, had about ten families who needed help. So when the Depression came, we got up to I don’t know how many families. Around five hundred, I think. The Town was spending a great deal of money, and one room certainly wasn’t adequate.

So I helped Miss Davids, and we moved the Welfare Department into a small store on Lewis Street; and that, too, soon became too small. So we moved the Welfare Department up to East Putnam Avenue to a private home known as One Elm, which is no longer there. It was opposite the Outdoor Traders, where all those stores are now. It was kind of a coincidence because my husband’s grandfather, William Rockefeller, had lived there previously for quite a few years unti.l he moved back to Tarrytown. His house was torn down, and another house was built on the site; and a family called Faber, the Fiber pencil people, owned it. Something had happened to the family, and the house was lying idle. They rented us the house, and we moved the Welfare Department up there.

And we had people coming in certain days a week for clothes and food and all the rest. It was a pretty, pretty terrible time for everybody in Greenwich.  And so the Board of Estimate felt that too much money was being spent by one person. And Miss Davids, in the meantime, had developed multiple sclerosis and she wasn’t able to get around as we thought the Charity Commissioner should; and she was soon in a wheelchair. I don’t know whether it was the selectmen or the Board of Estimate; anyway, the Town decided that the Welfare Department should have some help. Thus the first Welfare Board was organized. Mrs. Kenneth Brownell, Judge Mulville, Mr. Crichton, Mr. Carleton Marsh, and myself became the first Welfare Board, which is still functioning.

After the first few months the Welfare Board realized that Miss Davids was really not able to do the job, and that we would have to look for someone to replace her. This was a most difficult situation because Miss Davids had done a very wonderful job so far and had all the spirit that anybody could have, but was physically unable to get herself around. Being her friend, I probably felt worse about it than anybody else, but for the good of the town we had to make a change. Mrs. Brownell and I spent many hours looking for a replacement and finally came up with Maggie Hayton, whom everybody in town knows as one of the most outstanding people that you could find.

We spent many, many nights until midnight trying to get things organized and worked out. And I remember one Christmas we felt that something had to be done to give a little cheer to the people on relief. Through Mr. Clark of Drinkwater’s, we sent out cards to everybody in Greenwich asking if they would like to take a family for Christmas, and how many children would they like to have, and so forth. So we got that all gathered together. And I got quite a few of my friends involved in it.

And the day came when we had a party in every part of town. We had a Christmas tree in the Glenville School, Byram School, Riverside School, Cos Cob School, Old Greenwich School, and Have— meyer; and everybody came to the party in their area and went away with a lovely basket of food, clothing, and a toy for small children.

Mr. Clark of Drinkwater’s, who has always been the most remarkable man in Greenwich, I think, gave his vans and transported all the people and their presents back and forth. It really was quite a do. I think there were about five hundred families on relief by that time.

SMITH:	That was Leonard Clark, is that right?

ROCKEFELLER:	That was Len Clark. I miss seeing him around. Once in a while 1 run into him. He’s always doing some good works. He’s a marvelous person, and I really feel that you should get him taped because he stands out as a very wonderful citizen.

SMITH:	He has been.

ROCKEFELLER:	Good. So he will tell you about all the funny things that happened on that score. We never lost a present. We didn’t lose a child or an adult, and Christmas was a bright spot in the lives of many. The Welfare Board is a good institution, as it gives Greenwich an idea of what really is going on in the welfare field. Now we don’t have the big load that we did then, but we do have the same problems.

At this time the Welfare Department ran the Town Farm. First of all it was called the Poor Farm, and way back there we changed it to the Town Farm. It was used for people who had no place to live and had to be taken care of by the town. And so that all came under the Welfare Department, as it does now. I worked Out there considerably because there was lots to be done and I just felt that that was something I could do.

When the Greenwich Shelter took over the day nursery children, it left the house at 38 Arch Street empty, and in due course the Greenwich Maternal Health Center moved in. I’ve always been very interested in birth control. I felt that it was something that was frightfully important for the country as a whole. I was a great friend of Mrs. Sanger’s and Katie Hepburn’s mother. Mrs. Hepburn did a great deal to urge us on to do something in Connecticut.

So we got a few hardy people--Mrs. William Darrach, Dr. Darrach’s wife, Mrs. Stanley Resor, Mrs. Anthony Lynch, Mrs. Reginald Roome, Mrs. Avery Rockefeller, Mrs. William Stanley, Mrs. Jack Witter, Mrs. Halford Park, Mrs.~Calvert Holt, and others. We got together and started a birth control clinic~ in Port Chester on Main Street because at that time Connecticut was one of the states where birth control was banned, so we thought we couldn’t open the clinic in Connecticut. Instead we opened a clinic in a cute old house on Main Street in Port Chester. Connecticut people interested in birth control rallied to the cause, and we had volunteers bringing patients from all over Fairfield County.

Well, we ran there for quite a few years, and then we got very brave and decided to move into Connecticut. I had a great friend, a lawyer who was a supporter from Greenwich from the very beginning, Luke [B.] Lockwood. I said to him, “Well, come on, what will we do?” He said, “Well, go ahead and try it, and I’ll see what I can do to protect you.”

So we moved our clinic to a Rosemary [Hall] cottage on Lake Avenue and turned our clinic in Port Chester over to the Westchester Maternal Health to run. It was right opposite Miss Ruutz—Rees’s house, who rented it to us. It was one of those little pink houses up on the hill on the right-hand side of Lake Avenue going north.

Miss Ruutz-Rees was a very up-and-coming lady and felt strongly that we were doing something that

should be done, and we owe her a great deal of thanks. She deserves a lot of credit for letting us have	her

house because we really were working against the law. We ran there for a year or two. And during that

period we got so many patients that we decided that if we could run in Greenwich, why shouldn’t

Stamford and Norwalk and all those people take care of their own people? So once a month the doctor, the 

nurse, and myself went to Stamford and got that clinic started. The Stamford committee took it over, and

then we went up to Westport. 

	That really was a lot of fun because the lady up there was all for birth control, but she was scared

to death. But she lent us her basement for the doctor’s office, and she would go out that day, pretending

she didn’t know anything about it. The Westport people who were interested would bring the patients to

us. The doctor’s office was in an empty coal bin, believe it or not. It really was absolutely incredible. 

Somebody would be watching to see if we were going to be caught, but thank goodness we never were. And

so when Westport saw that, they decided, well, they could be brave, too. So they started their own clinic up

there. 

Danbury was the same way. We went to Danbury to a Mrs. Pfeffer’s house. She was braver. She would 

stay and help us on clinic days.

 And then Bridgeport opened theirs, and in Norwalk we had another lady who let us use her house.

 This went on for about two years until we got all of Fairfield County organized. We had Greenwich really

 started, and Stamford, Bridgeport, Norwalk, Westport,  Danbury. And they were all going beautifully. 

Over the whole county we must have had at least about five thousand patients. 

And we had no trouble or publicity excepting for Father Murphy at Saint Mary’s, who used to get up and 

preach against us. He would tell everybody, “Now, don’t go down to that house on Arch Street. That awful 

woman”-—which was me, I guess——” is running a terrible place and, if you go,” he said, “and you do 

what they tell you to do, you’re going to. . . . Well, first of all, you’re going to go crazy.” And coimiitting a 

sin, killing a human being, and all this nonsense. And I remember distinctly that my cook would come 

back from Mass and say, “Oh, boy, he just really raked you over the coals today, Madam.” 

But anyway, nothing really happened, and so we just kept on going. And we decided that we would start a 

marriage counsel bureau, which really fitted in so much to the birth control work. And so Mrs. Anthony 

Lynch took that over, and we ran that at 38 Arch Street, where we moved to after our move to William 

Street. And so we were the first marriage counsel in Greenwich.

And then we started a Mothers’ Milk Station. At that time we didn’t have all the different kinds of foods 

that they have now for new babies. There was a milk station in New York City that had saved many, many 

children. And so we started one here, with Miss Helen Skinner in charge, an R.N., who was the head of the 

maternity department at the old Greenwich Hospital. She is a wonderful gal, and she’s commonly known 

as Skinny. She was skinny. I saw her the other day. She’s not so skinny now and is Dr. Beck’s office nurse. 

Well, Skinny took care of the mothers’ milk. She’d find out what mothers had new babies and she’d go 

around to them, and if they had a surplus amount of milk, she would take it from them. And they would be 

paid, which helped them. She would bring the milk from several mothers back to 38 Arch Street and pool 

and test it to be sure it was perfectly all right——no germs in it that shouldn’t be there. She then frozethe 

milk into round wafers like a large white peppermint. Then it would be taken up to Stamford and kept in 

the ice cream parlor freezer, where they kept ice cream at forty degrees below zero. When people needed it 

for their babies, they would call up, and Miss Skinner would go and get whatever they needed and take it 

up to them.

I know we saved a baby in Danbury who weighed one pound at birth. I went up to see it. It was an 

incredible—looking thing. It looked like a very tiny broiler, hardly alive.

SMITH:	Oh, my goodness.

ROCKEFELLER:	It was a very exciting thing because he was a minister, and they tried hard to have

children and wanted children so badly, and she’d miscarried I don’t know how many times. Finally this

baby came prematurely, and it was saved by Greenwich Mothers’ Milk Station. This was very exciting. It’s

now a great big boy; I’ve kept track of him.

And also we saved another child, who is the son of Dr. William Resnik of Stamford, who has been a

lifelong friend of mine ever since. Dr. Resnik was an allergist whose own baby was allergic to all baby

foods. This child couldn’t tolerate any kind of food at all and owes his life to mothers’ milk. We saved his

life, and he now is grown up and perfectly fine. Dr. Resnik never forgot what the Greenwich Maternal

Health Center did for him. It so happened our oldest son has allergies; and when I took him to Dr. Resnik, he asked me if I was the Rockefeller connected with the milk station. He said, “You saved my baby.

Anything I can do for you night or day, please call on me.” And so I have taken many problems to him and

now feel lost because Dr. Resnik has retired.

We saved many more and helped a great many children to live. So the Greenwich Committee for Maternal 

Health really had three programs: the Mothers’ Milk Station, Marriage Counsel Bureau, and the Birth 

Control Clinic. And every day we still hear of people who have benefitted by these three programs. The 

programs continued until 191.2 when the war came on, and we closed the clinic because many of us went 

away and there just didn’t seem to be anybody able to keep up with all this big program.

Now, in 1939 I worked for the Red Cross because the war was coming. Our chapter was really working full 

blast. I started with the production. I worked in production for quite a while, and then we decided to have 

a motor corps. So I switched to that. I was one of the lieutenants; I had Platoon II. I don’t know how much 

good we did but it was an awful lot of fun. We had pretty snappy uniforms, or we thought so: Sam Browne 

belts and chevrons.

We were to be called out for any disaster here, and that’s what we were training for. And so we decided 

that we should learn how to obey. So we asked the old sergeant down at the Armory if he would take us on 

to drill us, which he said he would.

I met him on the street the other day. And he said, “Oh, those were some days, weren’t they?” I said, 

“They sure were.” He said, “I can remember very well, after telling you again and again, giving you all the 

orders, how you were prancing down the floor. And when you got to the wall, you forgot the order of 

about—face. And you ran your girls right into the wall and then you screamed, “Sarge, what do I say?” 

And he said, “I still laugh when I think about it.”

Well, we really had a pretty good corps. We felt we were pretty well trained, but I remember another 

funny incident. It was Memorial Day, and they asked our Captain Ashforth if she would let the motor 

corps march in the parade and then stand at attention while “The Star-Spangled Banner” was played and 

all the different people spoke in front of the Town Hall. So we all were spic and span, and we marched 

down pretty well. And we were all standing in ranks while the selectman spoke and whoever else spoke.

And then the band broke out into “The Star—Spangled Banner.”

We snapped to attention, and to my horror, I heard, “Forward, marob.”

And right in front of me I suddenly saw the first platoon move away.

 I heard the captain say, “Forward, march,” again. So Captain Ashforth

went down the Avenue, followed by Lieutenant Bush and the first platoon.
I said, “Hold.” And so I stood with my girls until we got through “The Star—Spangled Banner.” And all through “The Star—Spangled Banner”

 I could hear the first platoon’s feet marching down the Avenue. It was simply ghastly. And finally Mrs. Ashforth turned around and saw all of us standing and Mrs. Bush roaring with laughter. 

But anyway, I guess they excused us. That was where a decision had to be made instantly, whether to do 

what your captain ordered or do what you knew you should do. And I’m afraid I did what 1 thought we 

should do; I made my girls stand pat.  We had courses in all kinds of disaster situations. We had first aid 

and advanced first aid and we used to 

have simulated disasters. Each platoon had so many of what we ‘called ambulances, which were merely 

private station wagons. I happened to have one, and Mrs. Bush had one. We were told that sometime there 

was going to be a terrific disaster in the middle of the night, and we would be called out and we were to go 

to our stations. My station was Glenvi I le.

Well, for several weeks, before we went to bed at night we’d lay our uniforms out and have everything 

ready, expecting to be called that night for sure. Well, finally, one morning my husband woke up and 

began roaring with laughter at me. And I said, “What are you laughing at?” He said, “Well, the call came 

last night, and you snored through the whole thing.” And I said, “Do you mean to say you made me fail my 

duty and you didn’t call me?” And he said, “No, it was too funny. I just thought you needed to be taken 

down a couple of pins.” So my poor Glenville went without its lieutenant and also without its ambulance, 

which was really horrifying to me.

Well, I felt very bad about it, but I called Mrs. Bush. I told her what happened to me. She said, “Well, not

quite that bad with me. I did hear the whistle. I got up. I got dressed. I rushed out and got in my car, and I 

backed out so fast I took the garage door with me. And I never made it either.” I think her station was 

central Greenwich. So the poor lieutenants, neither one showed up on that disaster. And we never heard 

the last of it, as you can imagine.  And quite a few times we had different kinds of smaller disasters, and we 

would have to apply the first aid that we’d learned. And 1 remember once we had one disaster in our front 

yard. And Mrs. Zammy Sinuiions, Jr., was supposed to be the victim and was supposed to be dead. But she 

kept rising up from the ground, and I kept saying, “You’re dead. Will you please lie down? You’re dead. 

How can I work on you when you keep rising up like that?” She kept saying, “I’m not going to die. I 

won’t“

Another time we had a fireman who was supposed to have broken his leg, and we had him in traction so he 

couldn’t move. We forgot him on the ground and he ended up with pneumonia.  

But we did transport blood, and we did transport people to the hospital and to New York. It was terribly 

good for all of us, I know. Well, then the war came along. America got into it, and my husband joined the 

airborne troops. I went along with him because we were first stationed at Fort Bragg. And while I was 

there, I worked as a motor corps driver. And then they moved us over to Camp Mackall because Fort 

Bragg became too small for four airborne divisions as well as other outfits, so they made Camp Mackall 

just an airborne camp. We moved over there, and I became a Gray Lady and worked in
the hospital as a Gray Lady and did motor corps duty as well because we didn’t have enough nurses. And then I worked as a nurse’s aide although I hadn’t had any training, because we were so completely without help there that we needed everything. There were terrible accidents and illnesses of all kinds. So for three years I worked as a Red Cross worker in the army camp, as motor corps driver, Gray Lady, and nurse’s aide all in one.

And when the war ended, we came back. In the meantime a birth control clinic in upper Connecticut was closed. The nurse and doctor had been arrested. So all the birth control clinics closed, ours included. During the war the Red Cross used the 38 Arch Street ground floor as a canteen, and the Girl Scouts used the second floor. That was for about three years during the war.

So when the war ended and we came back, I returned to our Red Cross chapter and said, “What is there to be done?” And they said, “What is there to be done?” And they said, “Oh, we’re not going to go on with all the things we are doing. We’re just going to stop.” And I said, “Oh, you can’t do that. Why don’t you do something original? Why don’t you do something for the aged in Greenwich? We can’t open the clinics again. I want to do that, but Planned Parenthood wants to change the law first. We’ve got the empty house at 38 Arch Street. If we can’t have our clinic, why doesn’t the Red Cross take over the problem of the aged?” And they said, “Well, the Red Cross has never done that. What corps could do it?” And I said, “Why not Gray Ladies?” “Well, we haven’t got a Gray Ladies corps.” “Well,” I said, “why don’t you start one?” So they said, “Well, if you’ll do it, okay.”

So I started the Gray Lady corps, and that’s when we started sending Gray Ladies up to Nathaniel Witherell; and they did a very good job up there. That was the beginning of getting that place straightened out. They also worked at the New Haven Veterans’ Hospital, and some of us went down to Kingsbridge [Veterans’ Administration Hospital, Bronx, New York). They didn’t like us much because we came from Connecticut.

So I came back and said, “Come on, let’s do something about the old people.” And they said, “Well, what?” “Well,” I said, “let’s start a club for them so that they can come and have a hot meal and get together, the way they do in England. They have what they call Darby and Joan clubs.” And I said, “Why don’t we do that?” “Well,” they said, “okay. It’s never been done, but let’s try it.”

So they went to Washington and asked if Gray Ladies could start such a thing. Well, we turned Washington upside down. They said first of all, “No, absolutely.” Gray Ladies in the old days were not supposed to even feed patients. They were just to do some recreational work, write letters, et cetera. Well, during the war I never wrote a letter. There was too much else to do for them, and so I felt that that was just a lot of nonsense.

Finally they sent one man out from Washington, from headquarters, to see just what the whole thing was about. And I told him what it would be, and that there’d really be mostly recreation, but that they would have to have a hot lunch.

How well I remember. I had on my veil. I was all dressed up fit to kill. He looked at me very seriously and he said, “Well, you wouldn’t wear your veil while you’re cooking, would you?” And I said, “No, I’ve only got it on now because you’re here.” I said, “All during the war, it was too hot in North Carolina; I wore a cap instead. And Ipromise you that I will not even wear the uniform while I’m cooking.” He laughed, finally. I said, “You know, I always call the Red Cross the red tape, but, anyway, it does a good job.” He left us shaking his head. They let us go ahead, and that’s what counts. And so that’s how we started the Merry-Go-Round.

The motor corps acted as our transportation and later members worked as volunteers. So that really and truly, the Greenwich Chapter of the American Red Cross is responsible for starting the Merry—Go—Round in 1949, and, oh, for several years they really ran it. The Gray Ladies made up sort of the board and Mrs. James Apgar was one of our very wonderful workers and president, and a Mrs. Gray, among many.

Mrs. Gray was chairman of the homebound committee that went and visited people that couldn’t get out, and this was so greatly appreciated all through the town. Miss Maggie Hayton at the Welfare Department gave us the names of people who were unable to get out of their homes or who needed to be taken out of their homes to a place like the Merry—Go-Round. That’s how we started, and several of us went around and visited these people. Sometimes it would take many visits to persuade them to come, but they finally ended up by coming to the little red house.

And that pointed out the need for Meals on Wheels. And we really wanted to start that, but we didn’t get to it and welcomed the Meals on Wheels when it was started.
 
SMITH:	Greenwich needed it.

ROCKEFELLER:	There are so many people that can not get out, especially the elderly, and Meals on Wheels is one of the best organizations, I. think, in town.

Well, anyway, the Merry-Go—Round became very popular and attendance increased to forty a day. Finally the motor corps, who were busy transporting patients to the Stamford Rehabilitation Center, had to give up transporting the Merry—Go—Rounders, so we bought a bus and have a paid driver.

Everything was volunteer in the beginning at the Merry—Go— Round excepting the bus driver. Volunteers did all the cooking and all the entertaining and everything. Then we got so many people that it got to be too much for us. So we had to get a cook, a paid cook, and a paid driver.

Then we wanted to be self-supporting. Our budget was ten thousand, a mere ten thousand a year, and we used to go out for that once a year. But we felt, well, maybe we can be self-supporting. So we started a lunchroom up on the second floor that we couldn’t use for the elderly because of the stairs; and we ran that for, oh, I don’t know how many years. We had volunteer cooks and waitresses and delicious food. We kept the Merry—Go-Round out of the red.

SMITH:	It was good food, too.

ROCKEFELLER:	Well, I know we had good food. We had some terribly good cooks, who were really marvelous, dedicated women. Mrs. Elwood Cake was the big chef. And we had some terribly funny times, too. She lived on a rubber plantation in Sumatra for eighteen years, and so she learned to cook all kinds of wonderful things out there.
She was making the soup one day, and she said, “Quick, give me the bottle of sherry so I can put in a little sherry.” So I rushed around and got the bottle, and unfortunately she had the electric mixer going, and I dropped the cork into the soup. And it was all churned up before any of us could get it out. And so I said, “Oh, nobody will ever know it. Don’t pay any attention.”

l~1e always gave very elegant names to our different dishes, so she said, “I’ll tell you. I’ll call this cork soup today.” So we did, and we had cork soup on the menu, and everybody said it was the best thing they’d ever tasted.
One man said, “Well, this is so good. Now, why do you call it cork soup?” I said, “Well, I’ll have to get the chef out to tell you.” We all wore these tall chef’s hats. They weren’t quite as big as Nick Manero’s, but they were almost as big. So I got Ilene Cake out, and she said very seriously, “Well, I brought a whole lot of seasonings back all corked up very tight so they’d last, and I thought I’d use it in this soup, so we just called it cork soup.”
 Not so long ago somebody met me on the street and said, “Oh, you know, I miss so much that cork soup you used to serve at the Merry—Go—Round.” I’d hate to think of how much cork was in that man.

Sometimes, when the cooks didn’t appear, I’d have to jump in. And I’m no cook. And I remember one day Mrs. Cake was supposed to be there, and she was going to have eggs Benedict, which is really quite a snappy dish, you know, with all that hollandaise that  goes bad on you if you look at it. So, anyway, she didn’t come, and I had to pinch-hit for her. She sent the sauce down so I didn’t think that that would be too hard. But we had ninety people for lunch, and if you’ve ever tried to poach ninety eggs and remove them from the water whole, with the waitresses saying, “Hurry up, Rock, hurry up. We’ve got six orders. What are you doing?” All the eggs broke, and the sauce went bad; I cut my finger cutting the ham; the toast burned. And finally I got hysterical and I went out on the back porch. I got laughing and crying, and pretty soon I looked up and all the customers were looking out of the window at me. That was the last time I tried to cook. I’ll never forget that.

We had another fabulous cook: Mrs. George Sagar, Aileen Sagar. Her forte was vichyssoise and, my goodness, that vichyssoise was good. It was so good that we used to sell it to customers who came in specially for it. She was a very meticulous person and she made delicious salads. She never could get over me because I never could understand how to get lettuce crisp. I can see Aileen now saying, “I don’t know what’s the matter with you, Nan, that you can’t understand that you must have lettuce crisp. This is the way you do it.” And I can see her now washing it and washing it and then tossing it and tossing it. She really was a perfectly wonderful cook and a wonderful person. She left us quite a few years ago unfortunately, but we always remember Aileen with great love and devotion.

We used to have an awful lot of fun there; and we did make enough money to keep the clubhouse open. But we were all getting older and we couldn’t keep it up, so we closed down the restaurant.

Beside the restaurant we ran a shop. It was really a thrift shop. We’re still running it in The Mews now. Mrs. William B. White ran it. People would bring us things, and she would sell them. Over the year she’d make two or three thousand dollars on practically nothing. She really was the most marvelous person in the world. Little Helen, as we called her, ran this little shop in the front room of the red house, of the little Merry-Go-Round. And, of course, people coming in for lunch would always stop in and buy one or two things. And all the people that came to the club used to love to go in because they could buy things for a very small amount of money. Then, after The Mews was built, Helen moved the shop over there; and it is still running.

Through knowing all the people that came to the Merry-Go-Round, we realized that there were many of them who shouldn’t be living alone. One particular lady, Mrs. Johanna Frank, who was up in the nineties, was living all alone in one of the apartment houses. She got up one night and lit the stove and she caught fire. She had third degree burns from her waist to her head. She was in the hospital for many months, and they didn’t know if they were going to save her. But she’s a very strong-willed and very courageous person and she pulled through. It was because of her--we call her Mama Jo—-that we decided older people should never live alone. We don’t know when they’re going to fall down and break their hips or something’s going to happen to them.

That is how we got the idea of The Mews. It is a hotel for older people who either can’t live with their families or have no families to live with; who want to be independent, which most peopie do.

And in these days, even if you do want to keep your mother or father or somebody home with you, you haven’t got the room. The young people haven’t got the space that we used to have in the old days. And it’s just impossible both ways. As you get older, you know, you’re bothered by young people screaming and yelling, and children; and you find yourself giving advice that’s not wanted; and you’re better off alone if it’s possible.

So we bought Mrs. Scott’s boarding house and property next door to the clubhouse and hadn’t owned it for more than three weeks when some boys got in and set fire to the building. Unfortunately the fire department came, because we were going to take it down anyway. But they saved the building, so we had to pay to have it taken down.

And then we felt we could raise the money in Greenwich to erect The Mews, but it was too much. We just couldn’t do it. So we went up to the FHA [Federal Housing Administration] in Hartford, and that was another very amusing time. I went up with three men on our board, and we told the man what we wanted. We wanted FHA help to build a hotel for the elderly. And we said, “This is something brand new; we think it’s never been done before.” And so he sent outfor one of his men, and the man came in with about twenty-five books piled up and dropped them down.  And they leafed through all these books.And I said, “There’s no use looking, I tell you; I know there isn’t such a thing. But this is a new concept for the aged and something that we want to start. And wouldn’t it be fun to have Connecticut have the first hotel for the aged? That would be quite a feather in your cap.” I was thinking of all the things I could say to get the money; only wanted over a million.
He said, “No. Couldn’t do it. Never been done. Couldn’t do it.” So my three men friends, Mr. Enright and Mr. Windisch and I think it was Mr. Brockway, said, “Come on, Rock. We can’t get it so we might as well give up your idea.” I said, “Uh uh. I’m not going to give up the idea.”
So a little time passed, and I wentback again with another bunch of people. We went through the same thing. So this time I got so upset and so worried——I don’t do it very often——but I burst into a flood of tears, quite unexpectedly. And so I said, “Well, come on, boys. Let’s go home. I’ll just have to write the President himself to see what we can do about this. I thought Connecticut always was first in everything and they liked to be first.” And boo hoo hoo. So all my friends looked at me. They were absolutely horrified. They couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe myself either. So I stood up, and they stood up. And the poor man said, “Oh, please, please, Mrs. Rockefeller, sit down. I think maybe we can do something for you.” So I really shouldn’t give this away, but the reason we got the money was because of a woman’s tears. 

SMITH:	They work sometimes.

ROCKEFELLER:	They work sometimes, and I was so surprised because I really
didn’t know I was going to do it. But I was so mad, really, I was crying because I was angry. I thought it was so stupid of them.

Well, anyway, we got the money. And so we have FHA funds, and we have a forty—year mortgage, which the State Bank [State National Bank of Connecticut] is carrying. And every year we have to pay back this mortgage. We have to pay up our mortgage, or the FIIA will take the building over. And so that’s why we have to work hard to raise money each year.
We figured if the tenants paid the amount we asked, which includes room, meals, linen, furnishings if necessary, cleaning, and a minimum nursing care, we could make ends meet. The FHA puts a ceiling on rents. Unfortunately, only one third of our tenants are able to pay the full amount, and with good salaries and with everything going up, we are in dire need of help and depend on our wonderful friends each year to keep the doors open. We have been running at a terrible deficit. The reason we built the building was for people who need us, people with small incomes, if any. I knew this was going to happen, and all the men did, too, but I just talked them into it. I said, “If we get the thing built, I’m sure that Greenwich will help support it.” And so far they have, for everyone knows the great need for The Mews.
 We get kind of scared sometimes, but we simply cannot fail these people at the end of the road. We’ve just sent out our brochure now, and we really have to raise a hundred thousand to keep going; and this year it’s going to be very difficult.
The Mews opened February, 1970, and never has had an empty room; and I think that most of the people have been happy.

We still have twenty of our first tenants with us, which goes to prove that with a little security and with somebody to care we live longer and happier lives. Only two have left us because they didn’t like it, and that’s pretty good out of the number of people that we’ve had.

One left us because she wasn’t happy here. She didn’t feel that the people were up to her standards or weren’t her kind of people, and she never would get along with them. She was kind of snooty, poor dear, and so she left. And just about a year ago I was suddenly thinking about her for no reason at all and I said, “I must check up on Mrs. So-and-So.” I just had a funny feeling about her. And the girls said, “Oh, don’t be silly. She didn’t like you and she didn’t like The Mews. Why do you worry?” I said, “I don’t know. I just worry about her. I think there’s something wrong with her.”

Well, something else came up, and I didn’t check up. I knew she was living right up here on the hill. I really meant to go because I had this funny feeling about her. Well, the day that I was thinking about her, she died in her apartment and wasn’t found for three days. And I always feel that somehow maybe she wished that she hadn’t left here. But whether that was so or not, I don’t know. It was strange, wasn’t it?

SMITH:	It certainly was.

ROCKEFELLER:	The Lord takes care of the Merry—Go-Round, because in the old days at the red house we used to get down to fifty cents in the till. And my husband, who was a banker, would say, “Well, now you’re in the red. Why don’t you stop this nonsense?” 1 said, “No, we’ve got fifty cents; we’re not in the red yet.” And he said, “What are you going to do?” I said, “I don’t know, but I’m going to pray a little bit.” And sure enough, the next day we’d get a check, maybe fifty dollars, and then we’d go out and cater or do some work, which was a lot of fun. A lot of work, but we used to cater to make a little money.
We used to run so close to the wind it wasn’t funny. But we’d always end up with fifty cents. Really, literally, we’d get down to fifty cents in the till, and then we’d all get together and do some big thing and make a few more dollars. But we really ran on a shoestring. But you can’t run on a shoestring at The Mews. That’s a little bit more difficult to run.

SMITh:	No. Different problem.

ROCKEFELLER:	Yes. We have our capacity, seventy-one tenants, in The Mews today; and every day one leaves, another comes. Ten men. The rest are women. And Mrs. Frank celebrated her hundred and first birthday in September.

SMITh:	Oh, my.

ROCKEFELLER:	Yes. And she is just as young as she can be. She broke her hip at ninety-seven and came through that, and we’re very proud of her. She is always called “The Spirit of The Mews” because of her will to live at that time that I told you about when she was so burned.  I worked at Nanthaniel Witherell during those years and was co-founder and first president of their auxiliary. I had become interested in 1928; and, as much as I could, I would go up by myself and see what I could do to help the patients. At Christmas I used to go dressed as Santa Claus and get friends to help me. And we would give each patient a stocking, and some kind of a party. Also, I remember my downfall up there because one day, dressed as Santa Claus with a big pillow in my tummy and a mask on, I was going through the men’s ward and I suddenly heard a great many giggles; and I couldn’t imagine what was the matter. But when I looked down, I saw that I had lost my pants, which I think gave them all great joy. And, if it did, I’m glad. 
It was because of these Christmas parties that in 1956 Mrs. Rhett DuPont, a Gray Lady who worked there——she is now Mrs. John Howland——came to me one day. “I think we should have an auxiliary,” she said, and I agreed with her. So we started an auxiliary, which is going full blast now and has turned the Nathaniel Witherell Home

——it used to be called hospital, and it is now known as a home-—into really, I think, one of the best nursing homes in the country. And it was through the auxiliary that they have really humanized the place.
We were responsible for getting all the churches to give religious services at Nathaniel Witherell. They really became one of the most important programs at the home. We’ve had every denomination you can think of, even to the Quakers and Christian Scientists. Every single denomination has given its time, and it really means so much. I think this has been the biggest help we have been to the patients, for when you come to the end of the road, you certainly need faith and hope and comfort.
From having been on the auxiliary and having been interested in Nathaniel Witherell for so long I got the feeling, as many of the auxiliary did, that it was not a good setup. The Nathaniel Witherell was under the Board of Health. And the reason for that, I think, was because Mrs. Witherell gave the old building to the town in, I think, around 1916 or so in memory of her husband. She gave it as a hospital for contagious diseases and TB, and at that time there was no organization in town, I believe, to take over such a thing; and so it came under the Board of Health. Now the Board of Health is so organized that it is not up to them to run a hospital, but they had to do it. When we had the auxiliary started, Dr. Coffey was the Board of Health officer. He was very receptive to everything the auxiliary was doing and was a great help to us. And I think he felt, too, that there should be a separate organization running the hospital. 

So Mr. Edward Greene, among others on the auxiliary, agreed with this idea. And we had a committee from the 

auxiliary which included Mr. Greene, Mrs. Earnshaw, Mr. Fred Stevenson, I think Mrs. Chamberlain, and myself. 

We went down to Mr. Lewis, the first selectman, and told him our feelings about it. And I think that he agreed. He 

must have, because he made it possible to change the setup. After about two or three years, a great deal of talk, and 

taking it before the RTM, we now have a board of seven which runs the hospital, but is responsible to the Town 

and to the Board of Estimate. The superintendent makes up the budget and goes over it with the board and then it 

is taken to Town Hall to be passed by the RTM.At least three years ago we had so many people who wanted to get 

into Nathaniel Witherell, such a long list and no place for them to go, that finally the Town agreed that we should 

build a wing. So five million five hundred thousand dollar’s was appropriated for this, which also included 

revamping the old building for office space, recreation, and doctors’ offices. The selectmen gave the names of five 

people to be okayed by the RTM to serve as a building committee. Mr. Peter Mitchell was made president. He, Mr. 

Frederic Stevenson, Mr. Hart Moore, Mr. Bruce Warwick, and myself were the five voting members. We had ex 

officio members from each of the departments in town. We had Dr. Kraus from the Board of Health. We had Mr. 

Imre deCholnoky from the RIM Building Committee. We had a member of the Board of Estimate, which changed 

several times, but Jirs. Arnaboldi was the last one named to the board. I think she took Mr. Hennessey’s place. 

Then we had Mr. Stauffer and Mr. Schinto and a few others.We met very often in the beginning. We had quite a 

time deciding on an architect, but there had been a previous building committee ahead of us who had gone into it 

very thoroughly. They had found a certain architect in New York whom they thought was very good. And, after we 

looked around, we finally decided that they had chosen wisely and so we picked Weiss, Whelan, Edelbaum and 

Webster, And for three years we worked hard over the renovation and building of the new wing.
I felt very strongly that we needed a chapel, because I knew how very much the patients felt about the services that they’d had over the years. So twenty—six thousand dollars was allotted in our budget for a chapel. After a while the architect gave us the planned layout for the chapel, and we realized that it would not take the fifty wheel chairs that we need. So we asked him to redo the plan and give us an estimate of how much the extra footage would cost. It was absolutely prohibitive. The builder came up with a hundred thousand dollars, which to all of us seemed absolutely ridiculous. And at one point we thought we would let it go until after Mr. Rich, the builder, was through, and then we would tackle it again on a separate contract. But it was pointed out to us that, because the chapel is between the two wings, it would mean tearing down two walls that are just being renovated now and that in the end it would cost us just as much, if not more.
 So we continued; and the building committee said that they felt that they couldn’t go before the Board of Estimate and ask for more money for a chapel. And so I stuck my neck out and I said, “Okay. I feel it is so important-—and I work up here, and you all don’t realize the importance of it——so I will raise the extra money.’’ I had to raise seventy thousand dollars. I don’t know why I ever thought I could, but with Ed Greene’s help and the auxiliary’s help, we did it. And in April, ‘76, we laid the cornerstone for the Nathaniel Witherell Chapel, which everybody seemed to feel was just a wonderful thing for Nathaniel Witherell.
 
SMITH:	Isn’t that great!

ROCKEFELLER:	Well, that’s pretty exciting. But unfortunately nothing is perfect. We should have four hundred beds instead of two hundred because we have a waiting list of over a hundred people desperate to get in, and the list becomes longer as people live longer and Greenwich grows. It’s very difficult to get in for you have to wait until somebody dies. 
We also need another Mews, because we have about fifty or sixty people waiting to get in here. And they call me up daily: 
“When can I get my mother in?” “Well,” I say, “it’s in the hands of the Lord. When he takes somebody, your mother can get in; and I can’t kill people off to take your mother.” They just don’t seem to understand that. 
And what we need now is a day care center, which I hope we can put into the old high school. I want them to save the whole former high school and put the day care center on the ground floor in the new wing, and the GREATS and AARP on the next floor--both ground level, which is a must for the elderly. Experts have seen the layout and say it is ideal; most accessible. Open space can be used in summer, making a wonderful senior citizen center with little expense.

SMITH:	This keeps you thinking ahead all the time, doesn’t it?

ROCKEFELLER:	Well, I think you have to keep ahead. I really enjoy every minute of the day, especially working at The Mews because we have such appreciative people here, and I’ve learned so much from their brave spirit, and I am truly fond of each one. Every day there’s something that comes up that’s either interesting, funny, or inspiring. 
When they have to leave us, that’s very sad. There are not many Greenwich nursing homes to put them in. That’s another terrible thing. If we could take them from here and send them up to Nathaniel Witherell, it would be fine. But at the moment, even with the new wing, we have to send some far away from Greenwich. That means sending somebody who was born and brought up in Greenwich way up as far as Litchfield. And it’s so pitiful, because their families, if they have any, can’t get there, and the few people that are friends can’t get there. It’s really sad. We need another nursing home here very badly.

SMITH:	Well, it’s too bad this has to be the way it is at the ending of your life. But I think it’s so wonderful that they can be happy here and also in a lot of these facilities around town.

ROCKEFELLER:	Well, I think The Mews is a very happy home. We’ve had lots of funny things happen. There are many who have plenty of pep. We even have had fights, which shows they still are full of life.
SMITH:	Some spirit.
ROCKEFELLER:	Yes, they have wonderful spirit.
SMITH:	You deservedly were chosen the Clubwoman of the Year in 1964, wasn’t it?
ROCKEFELLER:	I don’t remember.
SMITH:	Well, I think it was a well-deserved honor.
ROCKEFELLER:	Well, I don’t know. I really love helping people because I really love them. I think that’s it. It’s been a great pleasure and satisfaction, and I wouldn’t have had it otherwise. I work because I love it.

INDEX
American Association of
Retired Persons [AARPJ
Apgar, Bessie H.
Arch Street
Arnaboldi, Sheila G.
Ashforth, Marianna
Baldwin, Roger S.
Beck, Dr. Edith M.
Birth control
Blake, Theodore
Bolster, Mary Levering
Brinckerhoff, Margaret
Brockway, Louis N.
Brownell, Elizabeth H.
Bruce, Emily, Shelter
Bush, Dorothy W.
Byram School
Cake, Ilene
Chamberlain, Ruth
Chi ckahomi fly
Chri stmas
Clark, Leonard S.
Coffey, Dr. Erval R.

Coombe, Hope L.Cos Cob School
Crichton, William
Danbury (Ct.)
Darrach, Florence B.
Davids, Georgina B.
Day, Mary Lanier
Day Nursery, the
deCholnoky, Imre
Depression, the
Drinkwater’s Moving & Storage

Earnshaw, Lydia M.Easter Seal Rehabilitation Center of South Western Connecticut
Elderly, problems of
Enright, Cornelius J.
Faber family
Family Center, The
Food
Frank, Johanna
Girl Scouts
Glenvi I le
School
Gray, Alice
Gray Ladies

Greenwich Retirees Eating and Tarrying Society (GREATS]
Greene, Edward
Greenwich Avenue
Greenwich Center for Child and
Family Service [See Family Center]
Greenwich High School
Greenwich Hospital
Greenwich Maternal Health Center
Greenwich Shelter
Greenwich Town Government
Board of Estimate
Board of Health
Board of Social Services
Charity Convuissioner
Representative Town Meeting
Selectmen
Social Services Department
Havemeyer School
Hayton, Maggie
Health
Hennessey, William B.
Hepburn, Katharine Houghton
Holt, Julia P.
Howland, Gertrude
Jackson, [Miss]
Kraus, Dr. George
Lake Avenue
Lewis Street
Lewis, William
Lockwood, Luke B.
Lynch, Gertude M.
Manero, Nicholas
Marsh, Carleton L.
Meals on Wheels
Merry-Go-Round
Mews, The
Mitchell, Peter
Moore, S. Hart
Mothers’ Milk Station
Mulville, William P.
Murphy, Rev: Henry
Nathaniel Witherell Home, The Chapel
Old Greenwich School
One Elm
Park, Lucina S.
Pfeffer, [Mrs.]
Planned Parenthood
Port Chester
Post Road
Red Cross
Religion
Resnik, Dr. William H.
Resor, Helen
Rich, F. D. Rousing Corporation
Riley, (Mrs.]
Riverside School
Rockefeller, Anna
Rockefeller, Elsie S.
Rockefeller, Helen G.
Rockefeller, J. Stillman
Rockefeller, Nancy C.
Rockefeller, William A., II
Roome, Gabrielle
Rosemary Hall
Ruutz—Rees, Caroline
Sagar, Aileen P.
Saint Mary Church
Sanger, Margaret
Schinto, Henry L.
Scott, Sarah W.
Shiras, Josefa
Simmons, Jeannette
Skinner, Helen
Smith, Esther
Social Service League
Social work
Stamford. (Ct.)
Stanley, Dorothy S.
State National Bank of Connecticut
Stevens, Jennie
Stevenson, Frederic F.
Stauffer, John E.
Town Farm
Town Hall Building
United States Government Armed Services
Federal Housing Administration
[FHA]
Warwick, Bruce L.
Weiss, Whelan, Edelbaum and Webster
Westport (Ct.)
White, Helen Case
William Street
Windisch, Frederick C.
WI therel 1, Rebecca
Witter, Margaret
Wonham, Polly
World War II

DONORS

This second series of publications by the Oral History Project has been made possible by:

Helen M. Alvord
Mary Helen Armstrong
Mr. and Mrs. Peter H. Blair
Mr. and Mrs. David F. Bull
Mr. and Mrs. Prescott S. Bush, Jr.
Marie C. Cole
Richard E. Deutsch
Mr. and Mrs. J. Paul Ekberg
Mr. and Mrs. Robert 0. Fehr
Mr. and Mrs. Brian D. Forrow
Reynolds Girdler
John L. Gray
Mr. and Mrs. John L. Griswold
Historical Society of Greenwich
Rhoda Barney Jenkins
Robert A. Lee
Charles H. Lewis
Herbert W. Mason, Jr.
James B. McArdle, Sr.
Mr. and Mrs. Jeremiah Milbank
Adelaide R. Munkenbeck
Madelyn and Horton O’I4eil
Eleanor P. Parker
Mr. and Mrs. Robert L. Peterson
Mr. John J. Radley
Mr. and Mrs. Russell S. Reynolds, Jr.
Mr. and Mrs. William Richmond
Mr. and Mrs. L. Chase Ritts, Jr.
Mr. and Mrs. Godfrey S. Rockefeller
Helen R. Simpson
Marion Rockefeller Stone
Joan M. Warburg
Mrs. William B. Weaver
Walter H. Weed, Ill

GREENWICH LIBRARY ORAL HISTORY PUBLICATIONS

Social History

Back Country and Estates
BELLE HAVEN BEGINNINGS by John Barrett and Helen Barrett Lynch
BRUCE PARK AND THE BENEDICT ESTATE by Horace H. Bassett, D.D.S.
BACK COUNTRY ESTATES by George P. Bennett
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY by Amedee and Marie Cole
CONYERS FARM by Eleanor Enright
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY BY John Gray
STANWICH ROAD and THE BOARD OF EDUCATION by G. Harrison Houston, Jr.
A RAMBLE UP RIVERSVILLE ROAD by Charles J. Hvolbeck
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY by Alton Ketchum
A GREENWICH GIRLHOOD IN 1900 by Jeannette Mills Mix
MINSTRELS, MUSIC, AND LIFE IN GREENWICH by Helen Haggerty Quinlan
RURAL RECOLLECTIONS by Godfrey S. Rockefeller
THE ERA OF ESTATE SUPERINTENDENTS by William A. Rutherford
RIDING IN GREENWICH by Theodore F. WahI

Byram
A SOUND MIND IN A HEALTHY BODY:	THE SOKOL SOCIETY OF BYRAM by A. Darula
BYRAM AND THE SHORELINE by Huqh D. Dougherty
THE LEE HAVEN BEACH CLUB by Alver W. Napper, Sr.
VOORHIS FARM AND QUARRY by John Triggs

Central Greenwich
STEAMBOAT ROAD AND NORA STANTON BARNEY by John Barney and Rhoda Jenkins
BELLE HAVEN BEGINNINGS by John Barrett and Helen Barrett Lynch
BRUCE PARK AND THE BENEDICT ESTATE by Horace H. Bassett, D.D.S.
LOUISE BROWN:	CHURCH AND COMMUNITY by Louise Van Dyke Brown
THE HYDES:	A HOSPITAL AND A HERITAGE by Elizabeth Hyde Brownell
OYSTERING by Clarence Chard
ISLAND BEACH by William Erdmann
GROWING UP IN THE JEWISH COMMUNITY by Jennie Weiss Eskowetz
CHICKAHOMINY by Josephine Evaristo
A FIRST GENERATION IN GREENWICH by Olga Zatorsky Hirshhorn
GROWING UP ON LEWIS STREET IN THE 1920’s by Frank J. Nicholson
MEAD’S POINT BOYHOOD by Whitman Mead Reynolds
A GREENWICH CHILDHOOD IN THE 1890’s by Gertrude Finn Spillane
SCHOOL DAYS REMEMBERED by Francis Steegmuller

Cos Cob and Mianus
THE RIPPOWAM MILL AND THE BELMONT ~FEED COMPANY by Anthony R. Belmont
GROWING UP IN COS COB, 1907—1923 by Charles A. Clark
SETON’S INDIANS by Leonard S. Clark
A MIANUS SCHOOLTEACHER by Mary Curcio
THE GREENWICH HISTORICAL SOCIETY by William E. Finch, Jr.
COS COB BOY, GREENWICH SELECTMAN by Griffith. E. Harris
MIANUS AND NORTH MIANUS by Wakeman Hartley
SIXTY YEARS IN GREENWICH SCHOOLS by Francis J. Higgins
THE STRICKLAND ROAD AREA by Harry Lounsbury and Katherine Lowell
THE O’NEIL OUTDOOR THEATER by Horton and Madelyn O’Neil

			ORAL HISTORY PUBLICATIONS 2

Glenvi lIe
YEARS AGO IN GLENVILLE by Frances Chmielowiec Geraghty
GLENVILLE by George Edward Jouret
A RAMBLE UP RIVERSVILLE ROAD by Charles J. Hvolbeck

Old Greenwich. and Riverside
THE PERROT MEMORIAL LIBRARY) 1929-1957 by Edythe F. Black
OLD GREENWICH IN THE 1890’s AND 1900’s by Mary Dodge Ficker
THE STRESSES OF THE 1960’s by Leatrice Fountain
SOUND BEACH AND RIVERSIDE AND THE GREENWICH TRUST COMPANY by F. R. Gisborne,
THE 1938 HURRICANE IN WILLOWMERE by Paul Palmer

Business and Political History

The Business of the Town
THE PUBLIC HEALTH NURSING SERVICE by Sybil Bellos
THE GREENWICH LIBRARY SINCE 1960 by Marie Cole and Nolan Lushington
TWENTY-ONE YEARS AT TOWN HALL by Florence Cross
BOARD OF ESTIMATE:	PEOPLE AND POLICIES by Richard Deutsch
TREES, PARKS, AND RECREATION by Joseph A. Dietrich
CHICKAHOMINY by Josephine Evaristo
THE WALSH BROTHERS AND JOHN MAHER by William E. Finch, Jr.
A LIFETIME OF PUBLIC SERVICE by John M. Gleason
COS COB BOY, GREENWICH SELECTMAN by Griffith E. Harris
THE SOCIAL SERVICE DEPARTMENT, 1938-1968 by Maggie Hayton
STANWICH ROAD and THE BOARD OF EDUCATION by G. Harrison Houston, Jr.
THE PUBLIC WORKS DEPARTMENT, 1940-1968 by Walter F. Johnson
PLANNING AND ZONING IN GREENWICH, 1963-1972 by Bradford S. Magill
THE GREENWICH LIBRARY by Marion Nicholson
GREENWICH GOVERNMENT IN THE 1930’s AND 1940’s by William Ryan and Jo Chapman

The Businesses of the Community
THE RIPPOWAM MILL AND THE BELMONT FEED COMPANY by Anthony R. Belmont
OYSTERING by Clarence Chard
A GREENWICH BUSINESSWOMAN by Chancy D’Elia
LAND DEVELOPMENT IN GREENWICH by Willard R. Devaul
SOUND BEACH AND RIVERSIDE AND THE GREENWICH TRUST COMPANY by F. R. Gisborne
THE GREENWiCH PRESS by Howard W. Palmer
GREENWICH AS SEEN BY A NEWSPAPER EDITOR by Charles A. Pirro, Jr.
MINSTRELS, MUSIC, AND LIFE IN GREENWICH by Helen Haggerty Quinlan
WGCI-I:	A COMMUNITY RADIO STATION by George Cooke Stevens
VOORHIS FARM AND QUARRY by John Triggs
JOURNALISM IN GREENWICH by Bernard L. Yudain

The Culture of the Community
A MIANUS SCHOOLTEACHER by Mary Curcio
STARTING THE GARDEN CENTER by Jane Duff
CONNECTICUT PLAYMAKERS by Ruth Finch and Margaret Huggard
THE GREENWICH HISTORICAL SOCIETY by William E. Finch, Jr.
THIRTY-FOUR YEARS AT GREENWICH COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL by Arthur E. Grant
GREENWICH THEATER IN THE 1930’s AND 1940’s by Helen G. Hale
SIXTY YEARS IN GREENWICH SCHOOLS by Francis J. Higgins

		ORAL HISTORY PUBLICATIONS 3

The Culture of the Community cont’d.
THE BRUCE MUSEUM:	THE FIRST FIFTY YEARS by Paul Griswold Howes
THE BUIILDING OF SAINT BARNABAS CHUP,CH by Philip Ives
THE O’NEIL OUTDOOR THEATER by Horton and Madelyn 0’Neil
MINSTRELS, MUSIC, AND LIFE IN GREENWICH by Helen Haggerty Quinlan
SCHOOL DAYS REMEMBERED by Francis Steegrnuller

The Social Services of the Community
THE COMMUNITY CHEST AND COUNCIL by Helen M. Alvord
THE PUBLIC HEALTH NURSING SERVICE by Sybil Bellos
THE HYDES:	A HOSPITAL AND A HERITAGE by Elizabeth Hyde Brownell
THE SOCIAL SERVICES DEPARTMENT, 1938-1968 by Maggie Hayton
FORTY YEARS OF MEDICAL CARE by Francis A. Read, M.D.
MEETING THE NEEDS OF A COMMUNITY by Nancy C. Rockefeller

Miscellaneous
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY by Amedee and Marie Cole
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY by John L. Gray
THE UNITED NATIONS SITE CONTROVERSY by Alton Ketchum
THE GREENWICH LEAGUE OF WOMEN VOTERS by Kathleen Phelps