laire du Berrier, who to this day publishesrna fine newsletter on military intelligencernand political history for his subscribers.rnThere was also BrigadierrnGeneral Bonner Fellers, formerly withrnU.S. Army Intelligence, who was attachedrnto the staff of British Field MarshallrnViscount Montgomery in NorthrnAfrica before our entrance into that costlyrnconflict and about whom PresidentrnRoosevelt said to his Chief of Staff uponrnreading General Fellers’ reports, “Getrnthat S.O.B. out of there!” There was norndoubt in General Fellers’ mind (nor inrnWorld War II correspondence FrazierrnHunt’s) that Roosevelt wanted to bringrnour country into the European War andrnschemed to get it done, as finally happenedrnin another hemisphere on Decemberrn7, 1941 (two days before myrntenth birthday).rnFrazier and Emmy Hunt visited ourrnthree-room clapboard ranch house onrnLake Creek in Hutchinson County inrnthe Texas Panhandle just months afterrnmy marriage to Frances Shaller in 1954.rnFrazier, a historian and an ex-war correspondent,rnwas beginning to write historyrnat his home in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.rnBy this time, I had been to the Universityrnof Texas and returned without arndegree a semester after my savings hadrnrun out. J. Evetts had earned a master’srnin history there in 1927 and at least onernrespected contemporary of his was a professorrnof Texas history at the university inrnthe 50’s. It was with apprehension thatrnhe agreed to send me there. Since hisrnuniversity days, Marxism had becomernpervasive in many institutions of higherrnlearning, and the pseudo-ideals of JohnrnDewey had virtually destroyed the standardsrnof learning in the name of progressivismrnin our public schools, of which Irnwas a product.rnMy mother, Nita Stewart Haley (whorndied in 1958), was an orphan. Her parentsrnhad died at Longview, Texas, by therntime she was eight years old, and she wasrnraised in the Oddfellows Home at Waxahachie.rnShe worked her way through college,rnfirst by waiting tables, later by tutoring.rnBy teaching college English andrndramatic arts, she managed to pay off herrnone loan before marrying my father.rnPerhaps it follows that J. Evetts Haleyrnas an observer and historian was unalterablyrnopposed to government support forrntuition and board for college and universityrnstudents. He was decidedly cool towardrnprivate support for college enrollmentrnas well. He often told me, “Thoserndeserving of an education will work tornprovide the means for it or figure outrnhow to secure scholarships or privaternloans sufficient to get it.” He was alsorncool toward “degrees” as evidence ofrnachievement, considering them morernsymbolic than substantive, even thoughrnhe had earned two. He believed therncountry and its economy were decidedlyrnbetter off if a preponderant majority ofrnthe population were not “educated” tornthink that manual labor was somehowrnnot necessary and honorable. Maids,rnyardmen, ditch diggers, wood choppers,rnporters, taxi drivers—all should be respectedrnand never considered membersrnof an “underclass,” a term he abhorred.rnHe often commented during the lastrn20 years of his life, particularly regardingrncertain individuals with a university education,rnthat “the trouble with them isrnthey think they think!” He believed thatrngeneral affluence created artificially byrninflation and the welfare state had givenrnmany people too much time to think.rnLike most real cowmen, J. Evetts was arnstrong believer in breeding. Yet in socialrnlife or in political approach, he was nornelitist. Unlike many talented people ofrnan artistic bent, he took time to invite intornhis study (or kitchen) visitors of thernmost meager circumstances and origins.rnWith them he was invariably courteousrnand unpretentious, yet he could be causticrnand blistering with governors or othersrnin high office. On one occasion, I wasrnwith him when he told a college presidentrnthat he (or one of his professors)rnhad lied about him and that it had betterrnnot happen again. (He got an apologyrnforthwith.) On another in the early 50’s,rnI was with him on a car trip when onernmorning at a diner in an obscure NewrnJersey suburb a would-be tough was verballyrnabusing the young woman behindrnthe coffee counter, and refused to pay.rnOther patrons acted embarrassed andrntried to ignore what is today faidy typicalrnrudeness. J. Evetts got up from his tablernafter a couple of minutes and steppedrnbetween the obnoxious man and therncash register and said, “The lady hasrnheard enough from you and so have I.rnPay her and hush or I’m going to take yournoutside with me.” The fellow sheepishlyrnpaid and left.rnOne of the last few out-of-townrnfriends to see my dad was a man whorndrove over 300 miles to visit him. Thisrnvisitor was a man sophisticates do not tryrnto understand and the supercilious arernapt to ridicule. But Dad not only maderntime for him whenever he stopped by, hernhad actually refinanced the man’s truck,rnhis only business or property, back inrnthe late 50’s when Dad could ill affordrnto do so. This independent driver/ownerrnhauled many of our family’s cattle forrnsome 20 years without a relief driver andrnwithout serious mishap. And, he retiredrnthe note.rnMonths before the Pearl Harbor attack,rnI had the opportunity to accompanyrnJ. Evetts on one of his day trips to thernClear Lake Ranch south of Houston.rnDad was at that time the general ranchrnmanager for J.M. West (the older) ofrnHouston, who was until his death thernlargest individual rancher in Texas. Hernleft in 1942 after the death of Mr. Westrnand after Wodd War II got fully underway.rnThe West ranches were scatteredrnfrom Clear Lake (the ranch became thernsite of NASA and the sprawling subdivisionsrnsurrounding it) to the Figure 2’s, arngreat West Texas ranch stretching acrossrnmore than 100 square miles beneath thernrenowned Guadalupe Peak, the highestrnpoint in Texas. On that peaceful Sundayrnafternoon on our way back to town, Dadrndrove along the Houston ship channel.rnI’ll never forget his not incidental observationrnas he pointed to a freighter flyingrnthe Rising Sun flag and being loadedrnwith scrap iron, our country’s waste atrnthat time, and said, “We will see thatrniron being shot back at us.” Among otherrnaccurate predictions were the advancernof our own welfare state and America’srnburgeoning inflation following the reelectionrnof FDR m 1936.rnAs an opposing Jeffersonian Democratrnthat year, he was in an unpopular position,rnand was fired from the Universityrnof Texas and the best job he had held tornthat time. He was the collector of historyrnand historical artifacts for the museumrnat the university on a grant from thernRockefeller Foundation. Through thernyears following, he often observed thatrnpolitical liberals do not really believe inrn”academic freedom.” They issue the cryrnshamelessly in order to protect therntenure of their own liberal professors,rnwho are bent on subverting the free enterprisernsystem. Then college and universityrnboards that dare to represent therntaxpayers and defend capitalism and therneconomic system that produced thernfunds to pay the professors who then becomernpropagandists of the left are labeledrn”extremist.”rnSome 20 years following J. Evetts’ dismissalrnfrom the University of Texas, hernJANUARY 1997/47rnrnrn