and to pump an explanation from me, decided something should be done. Having always nursed a theory that carefully made explanations would result in understanding, and having decided that this couple could be trusted, we embarked one evening on a discussion of the adjustments to be made by deviants, the other problems they faced, their numbers, and my own particular philosophy of life. Somewhat to their surprise, these two friends and others after them learned that they could come to me with direct questions without embarrassment, and receive equally direct, dispassionate answers. More of these experiences followed; each resulted, I'm sure, in a better understanding of our way of life; each resulted, I know, in making myself more articulate. Occasionally some member of a deviant's family came to me. Their worries varied; some wanted to know what to do; others, believe it or not, how they could be more helpful. In each case, incidentally, such families were sharply halted by the statement that I could enter into no discussion of their relative's problem-not even did I admit knowledge of the existence of a deviant in the family-without private discussion and agreement from the subject of their concern. My experiences to date bear out my own theory that gossip in a small town concerns only mystery; once facts are known, discussion seems to cease, except, for honest, open talk.

As comes to each of us, I suppose, came the time of an indiscreet remark, an ill-concealed mannerism, which tipped my hand where I would not have wished it tipped. And followinig that, a disgruntled employee of one of the municipal offices of whose board of commissioners I was chairman, tried to make trouble. Fired, for good and sufficient reason,

and given generous notice, he called personally on a few of my friends in an effort to convince them that their choice of friends, in so far as I was concerned, left something to be desired. As luck would have it, his first call was on my college classmate, who laughed, and said "You're not telling me anything I don't know." After becoming the butt of jokes rather than sympathy, my erstwhile employee took a long shot and sent a letter to the editor of our local weekly. Small town editors being notoriously busy, and concerned mostly with the obvious, the letter was published, to the subsequent embarrassment of the editor, dealing for the most part with summary firing of employees, the letter nevertheless carried references to "fairies in the bottom of the municipal garden" and pointed definitely in my direction, although no names were mentioned. As soon as the paper came out, I called personally on the other members of my board-who incidentally had taken no notice of the letter-and told them the substance of my story. I suggested that I would be glad to resign if they were embarrassed to work with me, but was urged to continue. Feeling that our First Selectman, 'who appointed me, might be uncomfortable, I talked with him, too, and my offer to resign fell on deaf ears.

Now, some months after this episode, I continue to live quietly, but my own way, and continue to serve the town, both by appointment and by election (non-salaried jobs, I assure you, as are most in these small towns!) Granted, there may be many communities in which such an approach may not be practical or advisable; there may be personalities unsuited to this means of getting along with ones fellows; my point remains: It can be done!

Ralph Wells Coulter

one

page 12