Arthur Friedlander

At Yuba City Union High School, the advanced college preparatory classes were identified as "XX". It sounded more like a stigma than a mark of achievement, probably an intentional effect. These courses, in areas of the humanities, physical and social sciences, tended to have the same students. In our year, there were about fifteen.

Several of the humanities courses, including English and History, were taught by the same man, Arthur Friedlander. I remember liking him a lot at the time, especially for his infectious enthusiasm toward all sorts of books. He said he had read The Magic Mountain every year since he graduated from collage, which meant at least a couple of dozen trips to Berghof as Friedlander acquired the receded hairline and etched forehead of his middle years. I've probably still got one or two books he first lent me, since if you showed any sign of interest whatever in a favorite he was describing, he'd be in the next day with an extra copy. I first read The Sound and the Fury that way, at the age of 17, and also the great Pale Fire. The one I think I still have was a fascinating mystery called The Bride Wore Black. I can't remember who wrote that one.

Anyway, that's what he was like. When I think back, I realize he wasn't as brilliant as he seemed at the time. I mean, he had gone to the Teacher's College at Chico State, so how smart could he have been. Wherever he had gone, he still had an effect upon me, I must say.

Every high school usually has a teacher most likely to keep in touch with former students. There's generally one who gets an extra charge of vicarious gratification at the later exploits of those once under their direct influence. What the hell. They've got a right, I suppose. Obviously, at Yuba City Friedlander was the guy, so naturally I had to go see him. For a change, I got right to the point.

Q: When was the last time you saw Michael Willetts?

A: Oh lord, it's been quite awhile. I've seen him around town every now and then, but not to talk to. I haven't had a good session with him in a long time, not since he came to ask me to write a letter for him when he was applying to be a conscientious objector. Now, considering all that's happened, I must say I'm glad I didn't have very much to do with him.

Q: What do you mean?

A: Mitch Ferguson was a good friend of mine. He was more than a colleague or associate, he was somebody I was very close to. What a horrible way for a man to die! I get sick whenever I think of it. If Michael had a part in anything so heinous, what right did he ever have to claim he was better than the rest of our boys who went over there? It's absolutely ghastly. Digging a hole and concealing sharpened stakes at the bottom. I can't believe one of my students could have been capable of such a thing.

Q: Did you help him that last time he came to you?

A: Not exactly. I don't think he understood the position I was in. A teacher here can't get involved in things like that. We're an integral part of the community. I tried to be encouraging with Michael in private, but I'm sure you can see, writing letters of support to the Draft Board would not have been proper. It's very easy now to say we all should have done things differently, but that was no time to get on a soap box. We had our part to play, and I couldn't see where Michael should be excluded.

Q: So you didn't write a letter for him?

A: On the contrary. I did write one, saying as I recall that I had always found Michael to be a brilliant, upstanding young man.

Q: And that's all?

A: As I said, that was the extent of what I felt my responsibility to be. I'm not a theologian or a philosopher, though of course I have done readings in those areas. Michael had never discussed his views with me about trying to become a conscientious objector before that day, and frankly, I doubted the seriousness of his beliefs anyway. Michael was too shrewd to expect any intelligent person to accept his rapid and highly convenient religious conversion. It was as transparent a ploy as I had seen. How ignorant did he think we were? As you can surely attest, this is hardly a town of hicks.

Q: Was Michael the only student of yours who ever asked you to do this?

A: Oh absolutely. When he came to me that day, I didn't know that there was still a procedure for becoming a conscientious objector. I thought that was a World War II concept which had properly run its course. After Michael, I heard about some of those big city draft card burnings and marches, but we never had anything like that around here.

Q: Did you ever talk to Mitchell Ferguson about Michael?

A: I think he told me about Michael's appearance in front of the Board, but we didn't go too far into it. I remember the subject coming up once, but I don't recall the details of our discussion. Certain of the Board activities were supposed to be confidential, so I don't think Mitch would have said very much. But, since this case was a little unusual, we probably did get into it some time or other.

Q: You're being pretty vague on this, if you don't mind my saying so.

A: I don't see why you asked me the question in the first place. If Mitchell Ferguson and I were colleagues and friends, and Michael was one of my students, and a letter from me was in his file when he went before the Draft Board, wouldn't you expect us to talk about the matter at some time?

Q: Please Mr. Friedlander, don't get angry at me. I was only asking because I don't know how much influence you may have had, whether, for instance, you might have said something to Mitchell Ferguson similar to what you just told me, to the effect that, no matter what your letter did or didn't say, that you doubted whether Michael was sincere in his beliefs.

A: Believe me, Steve, I had no reason to take that great a role. If Michael could have persuaded them, then more power to him. If he had, this tragedy might never have happened. If I talked to Mitch Ferguson about Michael, it wouldn't have been to attempt to influence him. That wasn't necessary. Yuba City was a place that produced soldiers, not draft evaders. A conniver like Michael Willetts never stood a chance.

Q: Did you say conniver?

A: Come on, you know what I'm talking about. There's no point in playing dumb with me. That's the same trick all you guys used to pull, thinking I never realized what was going on. I don't know what it was about Michael and you and some of the others from around your time, but I've never had students so bent on manipulating things. If the Vietnam War hadn't come along, your kind would have invented it, just to give you some elaborate diversion, something to complain about and try to wangle your way out of. You'd have never been happy in normal times. You wouldn't have a clue as to how to function properly in society. The kids today have finally become smart again. You should walk around this high school. Try to find somebody like yourself. It won't happen. You're a visitor from another planet here.

Q: Do you hate us so much?

A: I don't hate you one bit, none of you. I honestly feel sorry for you. What have you done with yourselves? Is what Michael did a proud accomplishment? And you, going around with a tape recorder looking for some way to excuse or glorify his acts, are you any better? The world has passed you all by and gone about its business. I should be interviewing you, to record what it's like to be a total anachronism. The things you care about don't matter any more.

Q: Have you changed any in that time?

A: I know how you'd like me to answer that. You want me to say that I regret things I did then, or in Michael's case, things I didn't do but you think I should have You'd feel a lot better if I talked that way, wouldn't you? How I turned my back on students who needed me, and now I can't sleep nights. Do you want to know how I really feel about that, how I've changed? The answer is simple. I don't think about it at all. If I've changed, it's to worry even less about those times. I've put it behind me, like everyone else. Why should other people be as preoccupied as Michael or you are with matters that are long since over and done? Is it even worth arguing? My honest answer is that this is one big waste of time, and of your tape.

Q:In that case, if I could get to something else, and believe me, I do appreciate the time you're giving me, and the trouble you're taking to answer questions you don't think to be worth much. I know I've been away from here a long time, while you've never left, so when I ask about the time between then and now, I may sound like I'm trying to dredge things up out of some morbid preoccupation with the past.

A: You haven't asked your question. I don't need your explanations or excuses. You used to be this way in class, too, wandering around while you figure out what you mean to say.

Q: If you put it that way, I'd like to know if you have any idea who might have helped Michael set up these killings, if you do think he did it.

A: Oh, I don't doubt he did it, no matter how tentatively you try to put it. It's my feeling,, and strictly a feeling mind you, that somehow he managed to do this entirely on his own, regardless how complicated it might have been. There may have been weaker minds Michael Willetts could have coerced into carrying out these acts, but it's more like Michael to try to pull this off by himself I can picture him staying up nights working out alternate strategies, planning this thing over and over. He's probably sorry the Draft Board didn't have a dozen members. There'd have been that many more permutations of victims and death methods. He would treat the murders as one grand chess game, and he'd thrill at playing it alone. Of course I'm only speculating, but Michael could do that. Making it look impossible to be accomplished alone would be part of his thrill.

Q: What makes you think you can figure him out so completely?

A: It may be a good while since Michael and I have broken off, but of course I remember him very well. Not being preoccupied with the past as you are doesn't mean I'm incapable of recalling it. I remember you quite distinctly also, for that matter. Michael was brilliant as a student, as you know, Smarter than you, as you'd likely acknowledge, though you surely had your talents too. I'm not trying to belittle you as a student, but rather to point out what we both know, Michael Willetts had genuine intellectual talent beyond that of his peers. No serious teacher could forget a student like that. Of course, since the murders and Michael's arrest, I've given all of this some thought, and naturally, the police have spoken to me. Lots of memories have come back.

Q: Such as?

A: The first doubts I had about your group, and especially Michael, came from certain acts of vandalism which took place during your senior year. The most shocking was the wanton destruction of our traditional Christmas display, the throwing of paint over the entire group of hand-carved characters on the night before they were to be unveiled. That would be Christmas, 1963. We in authority knew this was the brand of stupid anarchism that your sort of radicals-to-be would be more than capable of, and we probably should have sought out the culprits and disciplined them harshly. Instead, we stayed in the spirit of the season and let the matter go unnoticed. I'm sure you remember that little commando raid, don't you?

Q: We only heard about it second hand, from Karen Grant's younger sister, who I guess was in one of the shop classes that worked all next morning to clean things up. By the time of the ceremony, you'd never have known anything had happened. Are you saying Michael did that?

A: If you still want to play coy after fifteen years about petty pranks and pretend you had nothing to do with it, that's up to you. The statute of limitations ought to have run out by now. However, if you're making some genuine effort to think clearly about these killings, some self-examination might be in order. There are questions you should ask yourself, and not just other people. Should I remind you of the night that the grandstand of Peach Bowl Stadium was set on fire during the weekend before homecoming? What about the fake announcements of nonexistent clubs that kept turning up in school bulletins? Lots of little things too trivial to remember, except for how this turned out.

The story should be more dramatic than it is. Instead, it's point less and pathetic. Michael had grudges before he had targets to fix them on. When real adversaries finally showed up, he was set to raise the stakes. He didn't need people to help him. He was crazy enough on his own.

Q: So you wouldn't know if there were others around who might have sympathized with him? Do you know if he remained in touch with any of our other friends from around that time?

A: You should be able to find that out better than I can answer. If you haven't been around here, as you claim, then there's no one that springs to mind. Of course there's Michael's wife, Sharon, but they must have kept to themselves a good deal, or as much as possible in Yuba City. I'm sure they occasionally saw people, but nobody that I hear from maintained close contact over a period of time. The other students of your class that I still see sometimes rarely mentioned Michael, that is, until all this.

Q: Oh, who do you keep in contact with?

A: Several of your classmates, despite being your contemporaries, have gone on to achieve some distinction. Roger Cantrell you no doubt remember. He's somewhere in Ohio now, but he never fails to send a Christmas card and to come have a talk whenever he's in town.

Q: Did he go to the Air Force Academy as he had planned?

A: Roger Cantrell always did everything as he had planned. He indeed went to the Air Force Academy, later decorated in Vietnam, and he's now a Major. He has something to do with investigating peaceful applications of atomic energy, if I am recalling correctly what he last told me. I'm not certain precisely what that entails.

Q: I'm surprised I haven't thought of that goody-goody once in all these years.

A: If it's goody-goody, as you call it, to be about as perfect as a young man can be, then your sarcasm is a mixture of truth and jealousy. You must admit everyone liked Roger, even you, Michael, and your other misfit friends. How could anyone not like Roger. Your bunch wouldn't have approved of his profession or his ardent patriotism, but his sincerity of feeling was so disarmingly genuine there was no way not to be taken in by him. He was a born leader, as everyone recognized.

Q: That's quite a little speech.

A: You asked. Have I been describing him incorrectly?

Q: No, just a little too enthusiastically, at least compared to Michael.

A: You compare him to Michael. I'd rather not.

Q: Do you know if Michael and Roger ever saw each other?

A: They didn't exactly travel in the same circles, but Roger was always the sort of person who would seek out people he knew and who he thought he could help. I wouldn't be surprised if Roger did go to see Michael on one of his visits back here to see his family, but if that ever happened, I never heard about it.

Q: Anybody else?

A: Let's see. Neil Kenady was from your class, wasn't he?

Q: Neil. Gee, I haven't thought about him for ages. Sure he was one of us. Where is he?

A: About six blocks from here. He works in his father's real estate office, or rather, their office. It's Kenady and Son now, has been for a couple of years. He's also got four children of his own.

Q: Four! He's the same age as I am.

A: He and Amy started having them while he was still at Yuba College. They had four in four years, two in school and two after.

Q: I guess he never went in the Army. Would having all those kids be a way out?

A: I wouldn't know about that, but I don't like what you're suggesting. If you want to make small talk with me about your old friends, that's one thing, but if you're fishing for information to twist around any way you can in Michael's favor, then I don't think I want to continue this. I better remind you as well of our understanding that nothing we discuss will be made public without my specific permission, which at the moment I'm not inclined to grant. I have an important position now, as I expect the honor of an appointment to Mitchell Ferguson's job, and I wouldn't want to jeopardize my standing because of comments made to you and taken out of context. I've talked to you as a courtesy to an old student, and I would not like to see that courtesy taken advantage of. I expect you to respect that.

I've tried not to take any of Arthur Friedlander's comments out of context. The only deletions have been of subjects already covered elsewhere and a few parts even more boring than what remains. As for getting his permission to publish these comments, I hereby publicly admit that I have not contacted him for subsequent approval, because I wish to have nothing further to do with him, so appalling do I find both his views and his past actions. I have tried not to distort anything he said, but I refuse to deal directly with him any further, so if he feels I have violated our agreement, let him sue.