The Palm Beach Post from West Palm Beach, Florida on December 5, 1976 · Page 51
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The Palm Beach Post from West Palm Beach, Florida · Page 51

West Palm Beach, Florida
Issue Date:
Sunday, December 5, 1976
Page 51
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Page 51 article text (OCR)

Can't Erase Tokyo Rose Memory By JOHN LEGGETT As Tom Heggen revealed in "Mister Roberts," the worst of modern warfare is the boredom of it. On my ship, USS Elden, that boredom was as vast as the Pacific itself day after day, same watches and drills, same food and smells, same heat and shipmates. That is why the Elden's crew, and the rest of the 2 million young Americans in the Pacific theater during World War II made so much of the woman they referred to as Tokyo Rose. Her voice was native American with a dash of soy sauce, and she played us our songs, the ones we danced to the summer before (or was it already the summer before that?). She was talking to us from Japan, flirting with us, calling forth those romantic illusions from "Terry and the Pirates." I recalled how we had lost some confidence in her newscasts when she reported us sunk, but that only added to our enjoyment. She knew what was on our minds. She was lighthearted and sometimes raunchy about it, suggesting that our sweethearts back home were two-timing us, with help from the 4-Fs and fat cats. We didn't take her seriously. There was a tongue-in-cheek quality to the relation ship, an understanding between us that is best illustrated by the bomber squadron said to have responded to her apology for playing only old records (they were all she had) by addressing her a carton of late releases and parachuting it into the center of Tokyo. So, for this World War II veteran, it is astonishing and saddening to find what that war brought to an American woman named Iva Toguri. It was her fate to have been one of many women who broadcast from Japan to American troops in the Pacific, and her misfortune to have been the only one to be convicted of treason and jailed for doing so. Today, at the age of 60, she lives in Chicago where her friends know her by her married name, Iva d'Aquino. She is the proprietor of Toguri's, a shop on the North Side, where you can buy parasols, fish kites, books on judo and zen, incense and, presumably, even the complete teahouse at the back of the big white store. For many years after her release from prison in 1956, she asked only to be left alone with her work and her circle of friends. She had had enough publicity in the years immediately following the war. But recently, a committee formed in her behalf by a retired San Francisco pediatrician, Dr. Clifford Uyeda, has brought in creasing attention to her, and last month Iva sent a letter to President. Ford requesting a pardon. At a press conference just before mailing the letter, she said she hoped to get a pardon so that her American citizenship could be restored. "You don't realize the importance of or significance of such a thing until you lose it," she said. On a recent evening I found her at her shop, counting cash in the register and saying good night to her employes as they wieu into me street.'' Turn to TOKYO ROSE, D4' Low Profile Editorials Columnists Classified The Palm Beach Post-Times D lmensiOE SUNDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1976 D SECTION Ma Be Power Erosion Creates Concern (Milton R. Benjamin is an associate editor of Newsweek. William H. Read is associated with Harvard's Program on Information Resources Policy.) By MILTON R. BENJAMIN and WILLIAM H. READ It is 11 a.m. on a sunny spring morning in 1981. The private line rings in the 63rd-floor midtown office of the chairman of a major oil company. "Frank," says the firm's Washington representative, "I've just had an urgent call from the Federal Energy Agency. They want to know our petroleum reserve position, and they want it fast." "Is this a test, George?" the chairman asks. "I don't know, Frank," he replies. "It sounds serious." "Okay," the chairman says. "I'll be back to you before lunch." Within minutes, the firm's new satellite communications network has come alive. Computers in the 4(ith-floor operations center feed preprogrammed digital instructions to a 23-foot dish on the roof, which in milliseconds relays mem via satellite to computers at ports, refineries and distribution centers around the country. ' By 12:13 p.m., a 36-page computer analysis of the company's petroleum position as of 8 that morning is on the desk of the chairman. "Well, we're in relatively good shape," he tells George. "We'll use the satellite to have a facsimile copy of the report down to Washington in a couple of minutes." At 12:28 p.m., George report in hand rushes into the nearby headquarters of the Federal Energy Agency. "You guys sure put that together fast," an FEA official says. "Well," George replies, "things have worked a lot better since we ditched AT&T and signed up with the new phone company." Corp. They are not interested in the voice-to-voice business of the freckled-faced boy who talks long distance on weekends to grandpa; everyone agrees that Ma Bell's dominance of that market is unchallengeable and should remain so. Instead, they are laying claim to the expanding, lucrative field of data communications arranging for computers to "talk" to each other over long distances. Such communications are of growing importance to managers of sprawling corporations who have to keep track of operations in offices spread across the country or around the globe. "There are technologies around that if properly exploited like a satellite with high frequency and successfully done, would permit a lot of things to be done that we don't do now," says John R. Opel, president of IBM. "Our interest as a data processing business is seeing that those common carrier services are available. There is a need for something there as a common carrier. Our users really see that as a necessity." To help meet the need, IBM has joined with Aetoa and Comsat General to form a company called Satellite Business Systems. It plans " to offer "innovative private-line ser--ices" for the transfer of data., The company proposes to put two satellites (one of which will serve as a backup) into stationary orbit high above the United States. Then SBS will install small earth stations using rooftop antennas 16-25 feet in diameter right on a customer's premises, enabling him to link his offices in various parts of the country by satellite. This system will let computers "talk" to each other at great speed; it will let facsimile pictures be transmitted from 2-20 times faster than at present. "It's a hell of a good technical idea," says Opel. "I think its time has come." At the same time, however, Opel contends that Ma Bell's fears for her future are excessive. "We're talking about a very risky venture that may or may not fit AT&T's plans," he says. "We expect it to be an effective competitor, but to look upon that as some monstrous threat to the security of AT&T is absurd u'ally absurd." While AT&T's arguments for Guopoly are at least simple to understand, critics of the "Bell Bill" n.iw before the Congress are having no easy time trying to explain why they feel competition in the telecommunication industry is necessary. "The real issue is that Ma Bell simply hasn't kept up with business ' needs," says a government source, ut the eyes of millions of Americans (and most of their congressman I quickly glaze over when of finals of electronics and computer firms start talking about the sophisticated communications require-Turn to BELL, D4 Ma Bell has been having nightmares like this recently and she doesn't like it one bit. She feels that in the century since the invention of the telephone, the Bell System has done right well by the folks it serves. As a regulated monopoly, the tele phone industry has extended phone service to virtually every American who wants it at a price almost every American can afford to pay. Why should she now have to put up with threats to that monopoly, threats mounted by some formidable corporate opponents, the first serious attacks she has had to deal with in her proud history? To protect herself, Ma Bell has launched one of the biggest corporate lobbying drives the nation has ever seen. The firms challenging Ma Bell include such giants as International Business Machines, International Telephone and Telegraph and RCA 'Old Sparky Waiting Patiently But Life Continues as Usual on Florida's Death Row r rfl? p If; '; ' r iu ' : " i ? tv , ' if ! " i ' - . J Mi- Ira--- . tit -r--w imtimjtjst. , ill h yard" privileges (in their cellblock corridor) once a week. They are taken out of their cells one-by-one, given "a shakedown," or thorough frisking, and taken outside in groups of eight for two hours at a time. Rossi said "one or two" death row inmates "could live in society again.'.'' But others;'1 like James D. Raulerson, who was ronvicted of murdering a Jacksonville policeman i.i 'J1, 'I'd,.-sarcastic and demanding." . . Forty-seven oMhe male death row inmates are white, 33 are black. Their average uk is 29. The only woman condemned to die in Florida, So-nia Jacobs Linder, is confined at Florida Correctional Institution at Lowell. Rossi said death row inmates are known for their solidarity. "If three or four decide to do something, all the others do it," he said. "Peer pressure is very string." While their fates are being decided in the courts and at the highest levels of the state government, the men go about their daily routine, reading, watching television, studying law books or playing chess or cards. "They really don't believe they'll br executed," Rossi said. "Their attorneys keep telling them they won't. Sometimes I wonder myself." through the condemned man's head and out his feet. For the first execution since the U.S. Supreme Court upheld Florida's death penalty law, the executioner will stand behind a curtain so he and the condemned man do not see each other. Except for two visits by some Westinghouse Corp. engineers last July to test the switching mechanism, little has been done to prepare for Florida's first execution in more than 12 years. "We figure we'll have a month to make adjustments and preparations," said John Anderson, administrative assistant to the superintendent. "We'll have to change the straps, for one thing." , The door leading from the holding cell where the condemned man will be taken a week before his execution was welded shut two years ago when a prisoner picked the lock and almost escaped through the isolated "Q" wing. Upstairs in "R" wing is death row. There each prisoner has his own cell, which is equipped with a black and white television, a chest of drawers, a sink, a commode and one wall shelf. The door to the two cellblocks of "R" wing has two locks: one that can only be opened by a guard from the inside and the second, which can only be opened by another guard on the outside. Unlike other prisoners, death row inmates get outside yard privileges once a week and "inside RAIFORD (UPI) - "I feel a little embarrassed bringing you in to see this," said Phil Rossi, a prison classification specialist as he opened the outside door to "Q" wing, which houses the electric chair. Outside in the December cold, eight of the 80 death row prisoners at Florida State Prison exercised their once-a-week "outside yard" privileges by playing volleyball on a court enclosed by a high chain-link fence. "They can see it (the chair) through the windows," Rossi said, motioning through the Venetian blinds at the blue-uniformed inmates who batted the ball back and forth apparently unconcerned by the newsmen's visit. Inside a bare room in the center of a black rubber mat stood the oaken chair with the heavy leather straps dubbed "Old Sparky," by generations of death row inmates. It was built by inmates in the 1920s. Facing the electric chair on the other side of a glass partition were 16 straight-back chairs for the 12 witnesses and four prison officials who attended the last execution in 1964. Off the left side of the execution chamber is a little alcove where the executioner throws the switches that send ' 23,000 volts of electricity V, 1 I I DPI Ttltphoto 7r..-ry o.-'riy Horace Anderson plays cards with other condemned Florida inmates

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