60 Years Ago, 4 - UC Berkeley

I found another diary last week, covering my first months at UC Berkeley, jotted down in a date book with a space for two dates on each page.  The entries were therefore brief and at times fragmentary; there were days with no entry.  Late in January, I made several trips to Berkeley, and made the move on 10 February.  Prof. Schneider drove me down. 

I was received as a guest for the transition period at the home of one Mr. Long at 1195 Euclid Ave., about whom I have regrettably no memory, except that his kindness is repeatedly noted.  I was treated as a family member.  After three weeks, the University’s Bureau of Occupation found me a place for room and board in exchange for housework, and moved in on 5 March, and it was the home of the distinguished political scientist Professor Robert Scalapino (Ashby St.).  My task was nominally house cleaning, kitchen work, table setting and serving; but my diary is peppered with entries simply saying “Tired, tired, tired,” or “I’m so tired.” At the end of the semester, I applied for another place for student-work home closer, this was the home of another professor of political science, Eric Bellquist, at 2251 Hearst Ave., closer to the School of Architecture on the north side of the campus.  It was said to be largest private home in Berkeley, and the room assigned me was 11.5’ x 13.5’.  The task was considerable lighter; they had a regular house cleaner, and my task was cleaning up after breakfast and dinner, some garden work,  and babysitting for the couple’s young son.  When I first cleaned the kitchen, I washed the top of the refrigerator and Mrs. Bellquist thought I was going overboard; I remember this though the diary does not make note of the incident. The couple was warm and generous, and I was able to concentrate more on my studies.  I felt pampered.

In June I spent days looking for a summer job in an architect’s office; but with no experience I was not successful.  I had occasional odd jobs, like mowing and washing windows.  At the end of the summer, out of dire necessity, I wrote home for help, and I was sent $200 converted through a stock company with a branch in the US., this was the first and the last time I imposed on the family.  The diary ended on 17 September.

The following two summers I got a job as a counsellor at camp near Fort Ross, where I learned to ride a horse and befriended J. B. Blunk, then a ceramicist, now a sculptor.  After that I got a job drafting in an office of architects and engineers, full time during the summer and 20 hours per week during school years.  With this income and the scholarship from the University, I felt secure.  The architecture program led to the Bachelor of Architecture in five years; but after three years I changed to the old four-year program that led to A.B. in architecture in order to proceed to the Master’s degree in art history.  I completed the thesis for M.A. in January 1961 after starting the doctorate program at Harvard University.  A year later, I got a fellowship to go to Rome, where I stayed till the summer of 1963 and started teaching at the Rhode Island School of Design as an assistant professor of Art History.