On to the university...
At Richmond (California) Union High School, I found virtually no one interested in discussing philosophy, ideology, politics, the state of the world... Upon entering the University of California, I had expected life in these respects to become much more interesting.
During my first two or so (out of a total of four) years at UC, I found little of anything resembling interest in even progressive politics. Students by and large were simply “grubbing it” - going about their studies to gain a better foothold in life. “To Hell with others and their problems.”
For the first year and a half, I lived at home, commuting in my rather beat-up car the approximately
30 minute drive from Richmond to Berkeley. I thought I was missing out on campus life, so in the spring of 1958 I lived for one semester at a large shabby student co-op (named, as I recall, University Co-op, which apparently is no longer around), located across the street from the western edge of the campus. I paid something like $50 a month for room and board (plus 5 hours a week chores). Compare that cost with current expenses for room and board (see previous post)!
For the fall of the next year (1958) I applied to be accepted at “Ridge House, a converted mansion affiliated with the Berkeley Student cooperative. The House houses 38 university students. Located at 2420 Ridge Road, one block North of the UC Berkeley Campus...” (Berkeley Student Cooperative, Wikipedia)
Ridge House was considered to be the elite co-op for male students (it is now co-ed) and was highly sought after. I was surprised that my application was accepted, but now I know why. I was definitely on the FBI's active list (mind you, up to that point I had not actually engaged in any political activity!); and to better keep tabs on me, the US Gestapo demanded that I be given a bed at Ridge, which had far fewer residents than any of the other male co-ops at UC. I had absolutely no idea at the time, but I later understood that every one of the other roomers at Ridge was personally informed by the FBI of my left-wing political views and ordered to report anything “interesting” that I might say or do. Thus in this case, it was FBI economy of (small) scale that functioned: easier for the government rats to keep track of me where I interacted with a small, defined group of people rather than a large amorphous lot.
For the last year and a half of my stay at Ridge House and at UC, my big buddy was my roommate Bill Smith. My apparent faithfull companion was a self-proclaimed “liberal Catholic,” who did not necessarily agree with my socialist-communist views but who “sure respected” them. William Charles Smith, Jr. (or maybe III) thought that just about everything I did was great. Folk-singing was hot at the time, and I had taught myself to play the guitar and learn some songs; Bill thought my singing was wonderful (it wasn't). My jokes were always funny, and my conversation was forever stimulating. Bill once arranged a date for me; he accompanied me to a miniature golf course; once we camped out together for 3 days at Clear Lake (“a natural freshwater lake in Lake County in the U.S. state of California, north of Napa County and San Francisco. It is the largest natural freshwater lake wholly within the state...” [Clear Lake (California), Wikipedia)
Bill Smith and I were buddies.
Watch out for flattery, I later learned! The American secret political police have many devices for their stooges to ingratiate themselves with the target individual. Bill's “liking” for me was sheer bullshit. At the time, it did not even bother me that he was in a criminology course at UC. He was studying to be a big-time cop, a police helpmate. Bill was the enemy's man, and I did not even take notice.
But I learned. Eventually.
All for ping pong...
What a great find! Several Richmond Hi students had entered UC Berkeley with me. Among them was my “best” long-time Richmond friend, Doug Walther; and my high school debate partner Norm Emrich (we together had won second place in the northern California debate championship); another debating buddy David Dansky (now known as a toy train enthusiast); and Jennette Monday, soon to become Mrs. Walther.
One of the guys somehow “found” a comfortable, strangely abandoned large room in one of the campus' so-called “temporary buildings” (which were far more than a decade old) across the street from the main campus library. Convenient. And what was more, the room had a fine ping pong table, net, paddles, balls and all. I enjoyed the sport and was fairly good at it.
The capacious ping pong room became our marvelous hideout from the busy and noisy world outside. No one else entered, no one bothered us or inquired what the hell we were doing there or yelled at us to leave – fantastic . Notwithstanding that you don't just appropriate premises at a major university and make them your own. No way!
Unless the US secret political police so order the university administration.
And virtually every weekday at lunchtime we would gather together, play ping pong either in singles or doubles, enjoy our sandwiches and chat. I knew that all of them had right-of-center, rather conservative political views, and my school “pals” did not themselves bring up politics. Since I already knew their opinions from Richmond days, I only now and then opined something political. The atmosphere was pleasurable and relaxed. Better for target Arnold to open up and speak his mind freely. These were my high school friends, so “no worry.”
“Up- to-date knowledge about the target is vital for aggressively waging psychological warfare... Good intelligence is required '... to get inside the other fellow's skin, feel his feelings and think his thoughts'
(A Psychological Warfare Casebook, Wm. E. Daugherty and Morris Janowicz, 1958, p. 425)... The FBI also tried to ascertain our opinions and reactions through conversations with 'friends,' neighbors and co-workers. Every aspect of our lives was observed from various vantage points. If something was missed by one FBI source, another would be available.” (Silent Terror: One family's history of political persecution in the United States – arnoldlockshin.wordpress.com, p.80-81)
The cool ping pong room was an ideal place to give my FBI-directed “buddies” repeated opportunities to assess my mood, learn of my plans; maybe I would say something political.
And of course the room was bugged, so that my conversations and musings would be recorded and studied by FBI psych warfare experts.
As Janis Joplin sang it, “Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.” That is “freedom” US imperialist style.
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Перед нами сейчас - коварный и опасный мошенник, расист, лжец и фашист Дональд Трамп, порочный Конгресс, нацистские ФБР - ЦРУ, кровавые милитаристы США и НАТО >>> а также и лживые, вредоносные американские СМ»И».
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Правительство США жестоко нарушало мои права человека при проведении кампании террора, которая заставила меня покинуть свою родину и получить политическое убежище в СССР. См. книгу «Безмолвный террор — История политических гонений на семью в США» - "Silent Terror: One family's history of political persecution in the United States» - arnoldlockshin.wordpress.com
Правительство США еще нарушает мои права, в течении 14 лет отказывается от выплаты причитающейся мне пенсии по старости. Властители США воруют пенсию!!
ФСБ - Федеральная служба «безопасности» России - вслед за позорным, предавшим страну предшественником КГБ, мерзко выполняет приказы секретного, кровавого хозяина (boss) - американского ЦРУ (CIA). Среди таких «задач» - мне запретить выступать в СМИ и не пропускать большинства отправленных мне комментариев. А это далеко не всё...
Арнольд Локшин, политэмигрант из США
BANNED – ЗАПРЕЩЕНО!!
ЦРУ - ФСБ забанили все мои посты и комментарии в Вконтакте!
… и в Макспарке!