1947- 1963

LYNCHBURG AND OLD DOMINION BOX CO

I took a job with Old Dominion Box Company in Lynchburg for two reasons. One, it was Ann’s home town and two, it was a company of 8 plants and 1,100 employees and I would be the first college graduate. To me this meant opportunity – and it was.  My starting salary was $125.00 per month. At that time the major companies such as GE, Sears etc. were starting grads at $250.00 but it worked out well for a long time.

For about 2 years I was known as “Ann Sholes’ Husband.”  It was hard for one not born in Lynchburg to be recognized as an individual – but this was no problem for me. I was rather proud of it.

Old Dominion was owned by Mr. David Hugh Dillard. His brother had started it in 1905, failed and Dave Hugh took over. He had gone through the 6th grade but was one of the best educated men I have ever known. College is the fastest (and perhaps the most expensive) way to become educated but it certainly is not the only way.

One benefit of a college education, in addition to what you learn, is learning to learn quickly. This came in handy for me quickly. The accounting system at Old Dominion was antiquated and I had to learn it fast. Also, when I reported, the head of the payroll department was on vacation. She returned in two weeks and she and her two assistants went in to Mr. Dillard’s office and demanded a raise. One thing lead to another and he fired all three. That afternoon, I became the payroll department.

My boss, Bill Pritchett, showed me what to do and helped when he had time and somehow I got the payroll for all 1,100 people out. This got the attention of Mr. Pritchett, Mr. Dillard and Mr. Gus Terry who became my mentor.

Being an antiquated system, the books at Old Dominion were not closed until the 10th of the month, waiting for all of the checks and invoices from the last month to come in. This meant that we worked like crazy for two weeks and “coasted” for two weeks. During the slack period most of the employees in the office gossiped and worked cross word puzzles. I bought a book and learned to make break even charts and calculations. Before showing these to the top management, I felt I had to know more about the operation so I began to take the spare time to go into the plant and learn the operation. I never liked figures just for figures sake – I wanted to know what they meant. This is why, after passing the CPA exam I never was certified. At that time, and probably today, it was necessary to work in a CPA office for two years before becoming certified, I was already in industry and much preferred it to compiling the results of a company only for tax purposes. Today the major CPA firms have extended into consulting, which makes sense to me.

I finally felt confident enough to present my project to Mr. Pritchett. He took it immediately to Gus Terry and Mr. Dillard. I began to get some recognition and raises, although small, came regularly.

We lived with Ann’s parents in the house mentioned above. It was a stone house formerly owned by the Christian family who made a great deal of money from coal mines in Western Virginia and West Virginia. It had an entrance hall, two living rooms, a dining room, two kitchens, five bedrooms, a sun porch and an apartment in the back for the servants. This had a bedroom, living room and bath and was where Ann and I lived. It had a private entrance. There was also a tower which was off the main living room and the bedroom above it. This area had curved glass book shelves and window seats. There were working fireplaces in the entrance hall, both living rooms and the dining room although central heating had been installed later. The garage had been converted from carriage house and in the attic there was a two horse coach which the Christians had stored when they bought their first automobile.

Ann’s mother, Irene, was a true southern lady but with firm opinions. She and I had a heated “discussion” shortly after our wedding and we had the proverbial mother in law/son in law relationship for about a year. However, we soon began to accept each other’s qualities and faults and became very close. In the meantime, Bill Sholes had become not only my father in law but my best friend. We spent many good times with the two of them.

As a young couple we had many happy times at the house on Madison Street but perhaps the best were at Christmas time. Bill Sholes loved Christmas more than anyone I have ever known – probably because he was happiest when he was doing something for someone else. The foyer was huge with a 14 foot ceiling and it accommodated the largest Christmas tree, outside of commercial establishments, in Lynchburg. It was always difficult to find a tree big enough but we did. Besides Bill and Irene, Ann and I, Ann’s sister Jean and her husband Herb and her children Tommy and Mac lived in the house. In the beginning they also had a girl, Edith, who rented a room and was almost part of the family. With nine residents giving presents to each other and with presents from friends of all, the tree began to look like a department store. Also, in my map making instruction I had learned to enlarge a map by drawing 1″ grids on the original and then drawing 6″ grids on plain paper and, one grid at a time, enlarging the original. I began to apply this technique to Christmas photos of Santa Claus, villages in the snow etc. To make Christmas displays for the porch. Besides being fun to do, it enhanced the Christmas spirit and all of our friends loved to come to the house during this season.

Perhaps it was not the beautiful big tree or the presents under it or the enlarged Christmas scenes we made. Maybe it was because Irene, a teetotaler, made the best egg nog in town. Even after we moved to our own house we used to move back to Madison St. for two weeks before Christmas and stay through New Years. I shall never forget these times and, I think, neither will my children.

On Christmas Eve the children were sent to bed early and the adults, after various egg nogs, began to assemble “Santa Claus”.  This entailed bringing things from the attic, putting together those infamous “some assembly necessary” toys and rushing out to the drug store for batteries (not included). The most memorable of these times was when Herb went to the attic to get a chair which was part of Mac’s presents. Irene’s mother, Mamie was in the bedroom beside the attic steps and had left, for reasons unknown, a lamp shade on the attic stairs. Coming down the steps with the chair in his arms, Herb did not see the lamp shade, stepped in and went bump, bump, bump, bump down remaining four steps on his rear end. Mamie, a God fearing lady who would not say s–t if she had a mouthful was exposed to the choicest expletives available at that time. She said “OH” and retired to her room. The rest of us were rolling on the floor in laughter – could it have been the egg nog?

In the meantime my career was progressing nicely at Old Dominion and I had joined the active Reserves of the Marine Corps. This came about at a high school football game. A Marine Corps major was seated two rows in front of us and we asked him if he knew where Jack Marston was. He gave us Jack’s address and told me the local unit of Reserves needed officers. I signed up and attended drill each week and summer camp for two weeks each summer (good bye vacations).

The second summer at Camp Le Jeune Ann joined me for a few days and we stayed in the MOQ (Married Officers Quarters). Although these were comfortable but small rooms, the walls were thin and the bed was squeaky – we had to celebrate our “reunion” on the floor so as not to disturb (or amuse) the neighbors.

We decided to increase the population. On May 2, 1950 William Lee Tilson graced the world with his presence and his proud parents with great joy – which continues to this day. When lil ‘Willie was a few months old, Earl Stearns, the Major in charge of the Reserve unit came up on our porch and said “Charlie, because of the Korean situation we are going to active duty. You have ten days to get ready.”

I informed my bosses and they said they would hold my job for me (it was the law at the time) and paid me an extra month’s salary – which was badly needed to root up the family.

Earl had an unusual experience. He saw his own grave. When he was on Iwo Jima he and his machine gun platoon were cut off on the far side of the island. When they finally returned and joined up with his company after the island had been secured he saw a grave with his name on it. He had loaned a friend a utility jacket with his named stenciled on the back. The friend was hit by artillery and his head and dog tags blown off. Since they could not identify him, they saw the name on the jacket and assumed it was Earl.

Ann was trying to keep up my morale and while Billy was on the bed, with his head moving as only 6 month old babies can do, she kept winding up a music box toy which played “Lullaby & good night”. I don’t cry easily and I did not then, but I almost did.

We met at the armory with sea bags packed and in uniform (mine still fit at that time) and marched down to the train station. We boarded the train and joined the Marine unit from Charlottesville, Va.  This spawned a lasting friendship with many of these families – unfortunately, we have lost touch.

Arriving at Camp LeJeune spawned a rash of requests for emergency leaves since we all expected to be shipped out to Korea at any time. The most common one was “My wife is pregnant and   I would like to have the week end to see if she is O.K.”  One person gave the most unusual and most unsuccessful request when he wrote “My wife is not pregnant and I would like to go home this week end and do something about it.”

The atmosphere was similar to World War Two and the camaraderie, between both men and wives, was something that I perhaps will never experience again.  After a few weeks Ann joined me and we went to the Officer’s Club almost every night. The talk was “I got my orders. I am shipping out in two days. Have you heard anything?”

Because of my accounting education I was pulled out of the Lynchburg unit and sent to supply school. During this time I found that Jack Marston had been transferred to the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Marines. When I finished supply school he asked for me as supply officer.

When I reported for duty the Colonel in command of the battalion said “Lt. Tilson, you are going to be accountable for all of the equipment issued to this battalion. There is no time to take inventory. Sign for what is supposed to be here and I will back you in any shortage. Our mission is to get this battalion ready for combat NOW. I signed but this had future consequences.

We were fortunate in getting a house on the base and Ann and Billy (age 6 months) came to live on the base. The house was comfortable, the club was great, the beach was nice and it could have been a fun time except for the threat of leaving tomorrow hanging over us. I must admit, with some shame, that we fought this too hard and deprived our selves of some pleasure by not “playing it as it lies”.

The days were long and hard because we were trying to whip a new battalion into shape for combat. Jack Marston had married and had a child about Billy’s age so we saw quite a bit of them. We also socialized with our battalion commander, Colonel John Wiggins. John was a good career officer and I have lost track of him. Every night at the club, when the band played “Mexican Hat Dance” he danced with Ann. His wife did not like to dance and my specialty was the “Weasel Trot Shuffle” which Ann, as a schooled dancer, did not appreciate.

Our practice landings came in for the Atlantic to the coast of Camp Lejeune. We had to cross the Inland Waterway and it was a bit disconcerting when we had to wait for pleasure boats to pass before continuing the assault. To be wet, half seasick from the landing boats, weighted down by pack, rifle, radio and canteen and have to wait while a boat piloted by an older gentleman with young beauties in bikinis on the deck did not help the morale.

The shoreline of Camp Lejeune was covered by undergrowth, much like the Laurel and Rhododendron I had known in the mountains – but without flowers. It was extremely thick and virtually impassable. On one of the landings I was commanding a Platoon. I was supposed to maintain contact with the Platoons on my right and left. Because of the foliage we had to move almost in single file. After about an hour I received a radio message from the command post saying “What is you position”.

If you know how to read a map you know that you must have a reference point. Since I could see nothing I replied, not knowing that the Battalion Commander was listening. When I finally made my way back to the command post with my platoon the Battalion Commander said “Lt. Tilson, ‘Beats the hell out of me’ is not a proper military answer.”

Our wives were great. It was said during World War II “They also serve who sit and wait.”  Recognizing this, someone in Headquarters came up with a brilliant idea to show the wives what their husbands would be facing. This was a demonstration of “Assault on a Pill Box.”

A pill box was constructed of reinforced concrete and bleachers were arranged. There were aircraft available and an assault squad with bazookas, Bangalore torpedoes, machine guns, rifles, mortars and machine guns.

The assault started with plane flying over at about 200 ft. and explosives had been placed in the ground to simulate bombs exploding. Next came the Bangalore torpedoes to break through the barbed wire, the machine gun fire and the bazookas – then the flame throwers and the shaped charges. It was most impressive and I don’t think Ann has forgotten this.

We had bought our first car – a used Plymouth.  It was not bad but a problem developed with the carburetor. The mechanic who checked it said “You need a new one because the needle is sticking and flooding the engine. But, in the meantime, if you hit the side of the carburetor it will free up the needle and you can continue.

Ann drove to Camp Le Jejune to spend a week. She stopped at the guard house to show her identification. After it was cleared the car would not start. She got out, took an empty coke bottle which we kept for such a situation, hit the carburetor, got back in, started the car and drove off. The Guard stood, scratching his head and wondering what this lady who weighs 98 pounds knew about automobiles that he did not.

Later we got Officers Quarters at Camp LeJeune and Ann and little Willie came to stay. We should have enjoyed more because it was a nice livable house and the beach and the Officers Club were available but there was always the threat of “when do we leave” – so we were guilty of negative thinking . Try to avoid this if you can because it will save many anxious moments which need not occur.

I was in the field most days so Ann’s Grandmother, Mamie, came to stay with us. Mamie had an interesting but unusual background. She called her husband “Mr. John” and he called her “Miss Mary”. In spite of this they had two children, Irene (Ann’s mother) and Helen, who married Colonel Clarkson. Having a live in baby sitter made it easy to visit the Officers Club frequently and the first question when we met our friends was “ Have you received your orders yet?” Most of us were shipped out to Korea but my battalion was sent to Viequez Island to train new troops. Viequez is close to Puerto Rico and is the constant target of environmentalists who try to get the Navy and Marines to stop shelling half of the Island.

We were on Viequez for a month and it was my first swim in the Caribbean – (and a rather unusual one). After being in extreme heat on maneuvers for two weeks, bathing as best we could out of our helmets, the Sea Bees put in a water tank and showers. Since everyone was rushing in to shower, a group of friends and I decided to wait until the crowd thinned out. It seemed like a good idea and we finally got under the water, soaped up and —the water ran out.  We walked about a mile to the Caribbean Sea, stark naked except for the soap, and finished our bath in salt water.

About half way through the training session we got a week end in Puerto Rico-what ecstasy –a shower, clean bed, good food and cold beer. I was intrigued by the local culture (although it is now not much different from the USA) and language. Although I had heard Chinese, for some reason the Spanish sounded much more interesting. Little did I know at that time that I would end up speaking Spanish.

Maneuvers finally ended and the night before we were scheduled to leave Viequez, our battalion commander invited the Captain of the ship to which we were assigned, to visit. During the evening the Captain said “We are supposed to load the ship tomorrow and leave the following day but if you can get loaded tonight, I will take you to Charlotte Amalie in the Virgin Islands for a day.”

Our Colonel called all of the officers and said “Can you do it?” We gathered all the troops and asked if they were willing – the answer was an unqualified yes.

We brought up all of the Jeeps and trucks, turned on the headlights and began packing. We had the ship loaded by 6:00 a.m. When the other battalions were waking up, we were steaming out of the harbor. Who worries about lack of sleep at a time like this?

We returned to Camp Lejeune and shortly after our return came the good news that the “police action” in Korea was over and we were going home. Everyone was anxiously awaiting their release. A  Sergeant in headquarters told me that my orders had come in a week ago but were being held up by the Regimental Commander. I went to headquarters and asked permission to see the Colonel. I asked what the problem was and it turned out that the Colonel who had given me orders to sign for the equipment in order to get the battalion ready for combat had been transferred and I was on the hook for many missing items. I finally got all this straight and joyfully returned to Lynchburg,
During the time I was away, a consulting firm had been hired to install a modern accounting system and I had the job of absorbing this new system quickly. Fortunately it was the same system I had studied at UNC so it was no problem. The consultants had installed a Variable Budget and this has served me well in all of my future jobs.

In 1954 we were blessed with the arrival of our daughter Kerry. She was born on April 25 – her grandfather Bill Sholes birthday and from then on she could do no wrong (at least in Bill’s eyes).

My progress at Old Dominion continued and I ultimately was named Vice President-operations. Mr. Dave Dillard had retired and Eddie, his son, had a messy divorce and had to move out of state to preserve his estate so for four years I was literally running the company.

Our personal lives were extremely pleasant-good friends, good parties, a lot of tennis and swimming at Boonesboro Club and a nice house. Billy and Kerry took swimming and tennis lessons and became quite good at both. Ann and I started playing tennis again and found that the game had changed since we played as teenagers. The racquet weighted 12 pounds, the net was 4 feet high and the court was all up hill. After our muscles got back in shape things returned to normal. We played family doubles- Ann & Billy vs. Charlie and Kerry. We finally stopped these games when it became obvious that we were ruining the kids’ games.

Many things changed at Old Dominion. Gus Terry, my mentor had died on a trip to Cuba, Bill Pritchett, who had hired me, was Secretary /Treasurer of the company but he had an alcohol problem which finally got the best of him and he was released. Mr. Dave Dillard came out of retirement and brought in a replacement who turned out to be a “politician” – something we had not had before. He set out to try to get people fired and replaced with others he brought in. he was successful in getting Mr. Dillard’s ear through flattery and guile. We began to lose key people because of this and since I did not care to continue under these circumstances, I decided to leave.

FEDERAL PAPER BOARD.

1963 – 1964

Having decided to leave Old Dominion, I contacted Mr. Frank Brown at Federal Paper Board in Richmond.

He put me in contact with Ray Hall and Jack Kennedy- both Vice Presidents of Federal Paper Board. Jack’s father, John Kennedy, was CEO and President of Federal. I met with them in Richmond, on my way to trip to the Kinston plant of Old Dominion. They offered me a job as Manager of a Folding Box Plant in Bogota, New Jersey and invited me to go there and look at it.

The plant was across the river from New York City but there were two big drawbacks. One was that the warehouse was on the other side of the highway from the plant. There was no stoplight so the fork lifts carrying stock and finished products had to wait for a break in the traffic. The other was that the Union at that plant was the Teamsters which at that time were notorious.

I respectfully declined. (Thinking that was my swan song with Federal Paper Board).

Fortunately, they were not offended by my refusal and asked me to look at another plant in Washington, Pennsylvania. It was a beauty and I accepted immediately. During the negotiations I got a message from Jack Kennedy asking me to call him at the plant. This was the days before direct dialing and when I called the operator and said “I would like a person to person call to Mr. Jack Kennedy in Washington- before I could say Pennsylvania she said “sure you would”. (JFK was president at that time).

This was an excellent plant with good equipment and good people and I was very happy

there. Since I was accepted by the staff and we were successful in increasing Sales and

Profit, headquarters was pleased also.

We had a visit from one of our main customers and after he toured the plant we took him to dinner at the local hotel. I paid the check and turned it in on my expense account. I got a letter from Ray Hall mildly chastising me saying “A 20% tip is a bit much. 15% should be enough”.

Our customer was known as somewhat of a “skirt chaser” and I answered Ray’s letter as follows:
Being a country boy I rarely over tip.

However, when a blond waitress, 36-24-36, with both hands full of dishes enters a narrow dining room housing Sam Bibiana and several Federal Paper Board employees who shall remain nameless I felt it was above and beyond the call of duty. Sorry, I will be more prudent in the future.”

This was at the time when integration was moving rapidly and, being raised in the South, I had some reservations about sending my daughter to an integrated school. (Later , after having worked in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, I became “color blind” and race difference today means little to me),

Coincidentally, I received an offer to manage Old Colony Box company in Radford ,Virginia. With regrets I resigned from Federal Paper Board after being there only a year. It was a fine company and I had a good future and Ann and I often speculate about what our life would have been like had we stayed on.

OLD COLONY

BOX COMPANY

1966 – 1969

Old Colony was a competitor of Old dominion Box Company and had been started by two brothers- Alan and Marty Nolan.

The Brothers split up and Marty started Paragon Box Company in Atlanta. Alan kept the plant in Radford.

Alan died quite young and his son, Bob took over at age 21. I was still at Old Dominion at the time and we made fun of him (although we did not know him) and used to say that he would not last six months.

Bob turned out to be a good business man and was successful. He and I made a good team – Bob is Jewish and I am Episcopalian. The Set Up Box business relied primarily on the textile industry as customers and many of the firms Jewish owners were located in New York but had sewing plants in rural areas of he South. Bob could go to New York and spend a full week making sales calls in the Empire State Building where I would have had a hard time getting appointments.  I would call on the plants managed by locals and since we all spoke “Southern” I was successful in selling this group.

In the mid sixties Marty had some health problems and Bob bought Paragon Box Company, closed it after a few months and transferred  most of the customers to the Radford plant. One of the customers made boxes for golf balls and had signed a young golfer named Jack Nicklaus as an endorser. We always checked the sports page to see winners of golf tournaments because there were always many orders the following week for golf balls with the name of the winner. As you know from that gentleman’s record, this became quite good business.

We moved to Radford and rented a house with option to buy based on the sale of our house in Lynchburg. After one year our house had not sold and we were not too fond of Radford so we moved back to Lynchburg.

Although I was happy at Old Colony, I realized that working for a small company whose owner was 10 years younger than I, was really a dead end situation.

1968-1970

GUATEMALA

I contacted my good friend Ivan Wood who was now Vice President of Weyerhaeuser International. He set me up with a meeting with Midge Hendrickson, the regional Vice President and we met in Miami.

Midge said he had an opening in Guatemala and asked me to go there to see if I thought I would like it. I decided immediately that I was going to like it !!

I left for Washington, D.C. to catch a flight to Guatemala City. I was armed with the ticket sent by Weyerhaeuser, $100 in cash and my discharge as a Lieutenant in the Marine Corps as proof of citizenship. I was met at the airport by Helen Clarkson, Ann’s aunt and we went to check in for my flight the next day – I wanted to be ready.

The agent said “Proof of citizenship, please.” I presented my discharge and he said “This will not do.  Foreigners can serve in the military. I need a birth certificate or a passport.”  I was frantic because I had neither and my future depended on getting to Guatemala. I asked to see a supervisor for advice and he found a paragraph in the regulations stating that if I had a notarized statement that I was a citizen, it would be acceptable.

I went back to Helen’s house and typed up a statement stating where and when I was born, who my parents were etc.  We then set out to find a notary at 9 p.m. there was none to be found. Finally, a clerk at a hotel where I had gone in search of a Notary told me that the Police always had a Notary on duty. We went to several stations without success. Finally, at 3 a.m. we found a station with a Notary. He did not want to sign the statement because it was not a police matter. I finally convinced him that all he was doing was to verify that I had presented this document and swore it was true. He did not have to be responsible for anything other than that I was there and swore this was the truth.

So, we returned to the house, slept for 2 hours and went to the airport. The agent would not accept this document but said that, since I had to change planes in Houston, I could try there. My flight from Washington to Houston was not a peaceful one because I did not know the outcome.  Upon checking in I found that my luck was holding – the plane had mechanical troubles and we would be 4 hours late in taking off. But – this gave me time to get a tourist visa. Again, the agent did not want to accept my notarized statement but I quoted the page and paragraph of the regulations (which the man in Washington had showed me) and, thinking that I was perhaps a lawyer to know this, he issued the visa.

My arrival in Guatemala was an experience I shall never forget. Although I was late, I was met by the sales manager of Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala, S.A., the production manager and the administrative manager. I was immediately whisked through immigration and customs and thus learned that, in developing countries, most everything works from contacts.

I did not meet my predecessor, Dick Killian, on this trip because he was in the USA. He had been in Guatemala less than a year and loved his job but he had received notice from his wife that she was leaving with an Army Sergeant and if did not get home in 3 days, the children would be alone – so of course he went.

I later found that my welcome was to their new general manager, not just a visitor. Even before the Internet, news traveled fast. I had called my sister to tell her that I was going to Guatemala and she had told her neighbor. The neighbors brother was the superintendent of a Boise Cascade recycle paper mill in Esquintla, Guatemala. He had told the people of Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala that their new general manager was coming. Small world.

Midge Hendrickson joined me several days later and, at a cocktail party in his honor he said ” I’m told that you have accepted the job.” I said “Yes, I am going to like it”. So he decided we should proceed to Mexico City to meet the other owner, Henry Dabdoub. Henry had started the plant in Guatemala, basically to make banana boxes for United Fruit Company, and Weyerhaeuser had bought 50% with management rights.

Henry, who had probably never read a book in his life, had a huge library in his office at home in Polanco, one of the good neighborhoods in Mexico City. One of the books which he showed me was a Perry Mason mystery by Earl Stanley Gardner. There was an inscription which said “To my good friend Henry Dabdoub. Most of my books are based on characters I have known and you are the biggest character I have ever known” s/ Earl Stanley Gardner.

I returned to Guatemala a month later to start work. Bill was entering VPI as a freshman and Kerry was 13 years old. Ann and Kerry were to join me in a month after Ann had closed the house and packed the furniture.

As I recall this was July of 1968. (Why didn’t I keep a diary?)

I arrived on a Sunday and checked into the Biltmore Hotel. In the back there was a nice swimming pool complete with two big, noisy parrots in a cage. There was a bicycle race down the Reforma (the main street) in the afternoon. I did not find out about it until late but when I went out and was 4 rows back from the curb, I could see perfectly. The Guatemalan Indians are very short and we all learned to love them.

By Wednesday I had found my way to the factory without being led and everything was exciting. But – Wednesday I got a call at the office about 10 a.m. from Rafael Castillo. He said “Charlie, I am in a barber shop on the Reforma and the US Ambassador came running down the street and two men behind him shot and killed him. Get back to the Hotel as fast as you can and stay there.” So I did.

Until that time, the safest job in the world was that of a U.S. diplomat. This was the first assignation of a U.S. Ambassador.

All of the foreigners had returned to the Biltmore Hotel, which was the starting point for everyone coming into the country. We waited to see what was going to happen -would the government send in the Marines? Would there be some sort of retaliation?  We did not know. What happened was – nothing, at least nothing visible. Jack Young, the controller for Weyerhaeuser International happened to be there at the time to help me get established. Dick Killian, my predecessor was leaving for Tacoma that same day. Jack and I asked Dick to call our wives to tell them we were all right. The news apparently did not get first billing in the U.S. so when Dick called Mrs. Young and said “Jack is O.K.”, her reply was  “And why shouldn’t he be?” Where was CNN?

A state of siege was declared by the Guatemalan government and this lasted the full two years we were there. A state of siege is about one step less than Military Law and basically it expands the powers of the police and military. It also required that if anyone drove at night, the interior lights of the car had to be on so that the occupants were in full view. It prohibited 2 people from riding on a motorcycle. I did not understand this law until it was explained that many assassinations had occurred with the passenger on the back of a motorcycle – with a machine gun.

I began Spanish lessons and anxiously awaited the arrival of Ann and Kerry. Bill was sent off to VPI in our Dodge Dart. It turned out that, since this was the “Hippie” era , he virtually lived in this car although we were paying for a dormitory room.  Even with this protest, he did not get into drugs – for which I am thankful.

Ann and Kerry arrived and I took them to the hotel to check in and then to the bar. Kerry had a “Jugo de tomate preparado” which is basically a Bloody Mary without the alcohol.  As the drinks arrived a man came into the bar with his arm in a sling and with blood oozing out of the bandage. He had just been wounded in a street fight with the FAR, as the local guerilla group was known. This was quite a culture shock to two ladies from Lynchburg, Virginia.

I had rented a house. As usual, my taste was not very good and Ann found one much better. I should have known better than to select a house since I always had to ask what necktie to wear. And, of course it cost me two months rent on the first house.

My work was very exciting. As general manager, I had a freedom which I would never have in the USA in a similar position. The regional manager usually visited twice a year and board salesmen from the company came periodically and every year the auditors came. Other than that, Headquarters did not bother me. After about two months I had to fire two key people. One, who everyone thought would be the first Guatemaltecan to become general manager, was turning in altered expense accounts. He had good connections and when we needed a piece of equipment or a car, he could find the best deal. Although he did get good prices, I discovered that he was erasing the total on the invoice and adding a “commission” for himself. The other had been with the plant since it started up in Esquintla (before it moved to Guatemala City). He was in charge of sales service but also in charge of paying the workers in cash. It turned out that he would tell the workers “This is too much for what you did. I am deducting $5.00 from your pay “. – and he did.  I can forgive someone for making a mistake, for not being too smart or sometimes for being lazy – but never for dishonesty.

After this, I had a marvelous young staff.  I once wrote headquarters that “The staff here at Cajas Empaques de Guatemala has an average age of 28. I have been in the industry for 22 years but they make me unsure if I have had 22 years of experience or 1 year’s experience 22 times.”

This group consisted of Manuel (Manolo) Samaoya, an engineer, Carlos Vazquez, an administrator and Carlos (Carlitos) Alejos, sales manager. Each had  interesting backgrounds.

Manolo’s wife was a pharmacist and her father was a former head of the Central Bank – which is kind of like our Federal Reserve. Manolo was not only a good engineer but a good business man. Manolo and Geraldina (pronounced  Heraldina) built a summer home in the mountains outside of Guatemala City. Since the altitude of the city is 5,000 feet, when you say in the mountains, you are talking high. Several years after we left Guatemala, the house and the entire village was destroyed by an earth quake and everyone in the village perished. Fortunately, Manolo and family were not there at the time.

Carlos Vasquez had some sort of connection with the Secret Service in Guatemala. I never knew quite what and I did not ask because I did not want to know but it came in handy for me several times. He had arranged to have the lawyer for the secret service to also serve as the lawyer for CEGA (Cajas y Empaques de Guatemala), handling items of immigration etc.  One night Ann, Kerry and I were driving out to watch the volcano erupt (Picaya cranked off about every 20 minutes) and we were stopped by a corrupt policeman. (Perhaps “corrupt policeman” in Latin America is redundant). We could not speak Spanish and he took my drivers license with the idea of coming to my home the next day and shaking me down. The address on my license was the address of the lawyer of the secret police and when the cop showed up to demand money, he was arrested.

On another instance it was discovered (by Carlos , I susect) that a group was coming after me at work – not that I was so important but all foreign executives were fair game. They hustled me out the back before the welcoming committee arrived.

Carlos had another amusing experience. His first job after finishing school was with the

Colgate Palmolive plant in Guatemala. He was sent to New York for two weeks training.  His co workers said “Have you called on the President yet?” He said “No.” They replied “You must do that as soon as possible.” He bought a new suit and the next morning he took the elevator to the 30^th floor where the Executive offices were. He told the receptionist that he had come to call on the president. He was asked if he had an appointment he replied “No. My name is Carlos Vasquez from Guatemala and I’m told that I should call on the president”. She told him she would pass along his message so he returned to the first floor.

When the receptionist passed the message to the president he said “Those dirty bastards. They are picking on a kid who has probably never been out of his own country.” At lunch time he went to the first floor and when he got off the elevator he said “Where is my good friend Carlos Vasquez?” Carlos identified himself and the president said “It’s great to see you. I want you to have lunch with the Staff.” He took Carlos up to the Executive dining room and introduced him. Most of the staff had served in Cuba, Mexico or other Latin Countries so the President said “Gentlemen, this is a good time to practice our Spanish. Carlos will correct any mistakes we make.

Carlitos Alejos is the son of Carlos Alejos who was ambassador from Guatemala to the USA and the nephew of Roberto Alejos. Roberto was a prominent businessman and advisor to the president Ydigoras who was overthrown by a coup before his term was up. Many of the Bay of Pigs Cubans trained on Roberto’s farm. The following is an excerpt from an article in wikipedia. Since wikipedia is an open site to which anyone can contribute, I cannot verify the accuracy but it agrees with what I was told in Guatemala, including conversations with Roberto Alejos.

“

IT HAD BEGUN one day early in April, 1960, when two visitors walked into the office of Roberto Alejos in the Edificio Townson in Guatemala City.

Alejos, a handsome, athletic businessman, was one of the wealthiest coffee-growers in Guatemala. His brother, Carlos, was Guatemala’s Ambassador to Washington. But there were two other facts about Roberto Alejos that interested his visitors this day: He owned two huge fincas, plantations, in Guatemala, both in remote areas. And he was the closest friend, backer and adviser of Miguel Ydigoras Fuentes, the highly individualistic and unpredictable President of that Central American Republic.

The visitors were Americans. One was Robert Kendall Davis, a close friend of Alejos. Davis bore the title of First Secretary of the American Embassy in Guatemala City. A charming Californian of forty-three, graying at the temples, he looked the part of a diplomat. But it was an open secret in sophisticated political and diplomatic circles in Guatemala City that Davis was the CIA station chief in Guatemala. The CIA agent who accompanied him was less well known; he had recently returned to Guatemala after a three-year absence.

Davis and his companion had no small request. They wanted to know if Alejos would help arrange secret training sites in Guatemala for Cuban anti-Castro exiles. They also wanted to know whether Alejos could fix it for them to talk to President Ydigoras.

The CIA had good reason to approach Ydigoras gingerly. They were aware that he felt the United States regarded him as politically erratic. His election two years before had been greeted by Washington with less than enthusiasm, and Ydigoras knew it. Late in January, 1958, according to Ydigoras, a mysterious visiting American had called on him at his suite at the Maya Excelsior Hotel in Guatemala City. At this point, the Guatemalan Congress had not yet chosen him to be President.

As Ydigoras later related the story on nation-wide television, the visitor, who gave his name as “Mr. Karr,” opened a suitcase containing $500,000 in United States currency and offered it to Ydigoras if he would withdraw. The CIA knew that rightly or wrongly Ydigoras, who declined the money, became convinced that “Mr. Karr” was a CIA agent, although he possessed no evidence of that.

Now the CIA was asking Ydigoras to risk his political career by permitting the United States to establish secret training camps in Guatemala. Nevertheless, when Alejos approached him, Ydigoras agreed to meet discreetly with Davis at the President’s private residence, the Casa Crema, located on the grounds of a military school. (Ydigoras, understandably, had declined to live in the Presidential House where President Carlos Castillo-Armas had been murdered on July 26, 1957. Castillo-Armas had come to power in 1954 in a CIA-engineered coup that overthrew President Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, whose regime was honeycombed with Communists.)

When Davis, Alejos and Ydigoras got together, the Guatemalan President, who had no use for Communism or Castro, agreed to allow the Cuban exiles to train in his country, He designated Roberto Alejos to handle the details of the project for him.

Now Guatemala was to become the staging area for the overthrow of Fidel Castro’s regime in Cuba.

The CIA told Alejos that it would like to find privately owned land, with trustworthy owners, for use as training sites. Alejos suggested his own plantations. CIA, after looking over several other possible sites, selected as its main base Helvetia, the Alejos coffee ranch in the Boca Costa, the Pacific slope region of southwestern Guatemala.

Helvetia was particularly suitable for the CIA’s purpose. It had no access roads, and was a self- contained city with 100 kilometers of private roads winding through 5,000 acres. The estate rose to 8,000 feet along the slopes of Santiago Volcano, which had erupted in 1928 and was still active. The training area, or “Trax Base,” as the camp came to be known, was at 4,000 feet. It was well above and out of view of the main ranch building. The nearest habitation was the remote village of San Felipe. Retalhuleu, the other town in the area, was twenty-five kilometers from Helvetia. Guns could be fired and military maneuvers held at the ranch with complete security and safety.

The entire plantation was heavily guarded, so there was little chance that any curious outsider would stumble into the Cuban exile camp, or penetrate its secrets. If the volcano behaved, the CIA would have an ideal mountain hideaway to begin training the exiles who would topple Fidel Castro. It would be Guatemala, 1954 all over again.

The Americans who called on Roberto Alejos in the Edificio Townson that day in April, 1960, were acting on the authority of the President of the United States. Their visit was a direct result of an order given by President Dwight D. Eisenhower on March 17, 1960.*¹ On that day Eisenhower authorized the secret training and arming of the Cuban rebels.

The President turned over the task of arming and training the Cuban exiles to Allen Dulles. Dulles in turn placed the project in the hands of Bissell.

A highly articulate, highly intelligent man, Richard-Mervin Bissell did not fit the popular conception of a master spy, any more than did Dulles. Bissell liked to refer to himself as a “high risk man,” and it was he who ran the U-2 spy plane program.

Bissell was graduated from Groton, Yale and the London School of Economics. He took his Ph.D. at Yale in 1939, taught economics there and at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and worked in the War Shipping Administration during World War II. In 1948 he joined the Marshall Plan, rising to the post of Acting Administrator. He entered the CIA in 1954.

The CIA’s original plan, as it evolved under Bissell’s direction, was to build up the underground within Cuba through a long, slow period of guerrilla infiltration by exiles trained in Guatemala.

The CIA designated one of its most energetic agents, with the cover name of Frank Bender, to be the top agency representative in dealing with the fragmented Cuban exile groups. Bender, whose real identity was carefully protected, became an almost mythical figure to the Cuban refugees. He was rumored to be everywhere — in New York, Miami and Guatemala — during the months that followed. After the Bay of Pigs, he was said to have been spotted in the Congo.

Most of the exiles believed Bender was a European who had fought with the French Maquis during World War II. Another account had Bender as an assistant to top Allied planners during the North African invasion in 1942.

Those who met him described the CIA field chief as a man in his fifties, perhaps 185 pounds, of medium build. He smoked a pipe, wore glasses, was well mannered and displayed a good knowledge of history. Bender established headquarters in New York, which with Washington, Miami and Retalhuleu became the four key centers of the operation.

The CIA’s first task was to try to weld the squabbling and emotional exile groups into some semblance of cohesion, and to select promising leaders. The Cuban who looked most promising was Manuel Artime Buesa, a young firebrand orator who had fought in the hills with Castro in 1958. Artime accepted a job with the Institute of Agrarian Reform when Castro overthrew Dictator Fulgencio Batista on New Years day, 1959, and became Premier. But Artime broke with Castro later that year and fled Cuba in a boat. Now, at twenty-eight and violently anti-Castro, he was the secretary general in Miami of the Movimiento de Recuperacion Revolucionario, the MRR.

Another Cuban leader contacted by the CIA early in the planning stage was Manuel Antonio de Varona, former Premier of Cuba under President Carlos Prio Socarras, the man Batista had overthrown.

By the end of May, 1960, five exile groups had been organized as a revolutionary frente, or front, with Varona as coordinator.

At a meeting in New York, the CIA promised financial support to the newly formed frente. Bender dispatched agents into Miami. The CIA began pumping what eventually became millions of dollars into the frente and its successor, the Cuban Revolutionary Council. The CIA funds were deposited in a Miami bank and drawn by the frente through checks signed by an accountant named Juan Paula.

The first exiles were being recruited for the training camps. In the back streets of downtown Miami, in the bars, hotels, old rooming houses and apartments of the Cuban refugee community, the exciting word began to spread that something big was afoot.

Sometimes their leaders flew to New York for conferences with the CIA. When there was a crisis, Bender would fly to Miami.

The news would pass among the exile community: “Mr. B. is coming.”
0

While we were in Guatemala, Roberto was kidnapped. One Sunday we were having lunch at the house of Don Carlos Alejos, Carlito’s father. A man came to the door and Don Carlos excused himself to talk to the visitor. We later found out that the man was from the kidnappers and was there to negotiate Roberto’s release. He finally was released after having been held in a small room under a swimming pool for six months.

The first year was very difficult for Ann and Kerry but after that, they came to love the country and the people. It is a pity that it remains violent.

We joined the Guatemalan Country Club and it was small and delightful. Most Gringos belonged to the Mayan Club but we preferred one which was mostly natives. The other one could have been anywhere .We played golf and tennis, swam and partook of perhaps the worst food in Guatemala – but it was fun. The Charge d’ Affairs, who had taken over the U.S. Embassy temporarily after the death of the Ambassador, also played there. Besides his caddie, there were 3 men in suit coats. Kerry said “Dad, why do those men have on coats on the golf course?” The answer was that under each coat was an Uzi.

In the meantime, Kerry at age 14 blossomed into a strikingly beautiful young girl with long blond hair. I was almost on the verge of keeping a big stick at the front door to ward off the local teenagers as well as the Italian restaurant owners. We became quite close friends with these two Italians and they too had some interesting history. Their mother had been a Madam in Columbia and their Maitre d’ was a Turk who had left the country to escape military service. One of the high points of Kerry’s experience was one night at their restaurant on Kerry’s birthday , all of the waiters and cooks came to the table with a cake and sang Happy Birthday (Comple An~os felice).

(My computer will not print the ~ over the n but this is very important. Without this you have “ano” which means anus. One of our friends , while in Argentina had a co worker who had gone to New York for a hemroidectomy. Knowing that the telex in New York did not have the ~, he sent a telex saying “Felize An~o Nuevo which translates “Happy New Year”. Without the ~ , draw your own conclusions as to the translation.”

Ann had made friends with some people in the Embassy and I played poker with a group of diplomats so we were invited to a party to welcome the new Ambassador. This was given at the house of the Agricultural Attaché who lived about two blocks from our house. As we approached the house Kerry looked up and was startled to see men with machine guns in each tree.

The Agricultural Attaché was a bachelor. He invited us to see his house and the bedroom had mirrors in the ceiling. Ann, in all innocence asked me “Does he have a girl friend?” Lynchburg was a tame place.

We had a bad year after United Fruit started their own plant but in the second year we were making 30% on the investment. I am sure no Weyerhaeuser domestic plant was doing this. But we were small as corrugated plants go so we did not get much notice except from the International Division.

We did not have our own delivery trucks but used a contract carrier. This was owned by a Cuban who I shall identify only as Paco. Paco was a former pilot for Cubana Air Lines. When Castro took over and confiscated everything for the government, Cubana airlines had a Boeing 707 which had not been paid for.  The CIA contacted Paco and he “stole” the 707 and flew it to Miami from Havana by himself. This was a time when airplanes were being hijacked to Cuba so Paco would not fly on a commercial flight. The reason was obvious – if he happened to be on a flight which was hijacked to Cuba, he would have been executed immediately.

I went on a sales trip to El Salvador with Carlitos Alejos. General Ydigoras was living there in exile after having been overthrown as President of Guatemala. General Ydigoras told me an interesting story. I cannot vouch for the accuracy but I think it was true. He said “There was a conference in Costa Rica attended by all of the Central American Presidents and also by President Eisenhower. After the meeting I met privately with President Eisenhower and said ‘Mr. President, your term of office is almost up. As you know we are training some of the Cubans for the Bay of Pigs invasion in Guatemala. What is the status going to be when your term is up?’. Mr. Eisenhower replied ‘ Dick Nixon is going to be the next President of the USA and his views on this are the same as mine’. ”

As we all know, John Kennedy was the next President and although he allowed the invasion to start, the promised air support from unmarked planes flown by the CIA pilots was not sufficient and no plane from the US forces were allowed to help and the whole operation was a fiasco. General Ydigoras also told me that Adlai Stevenson, as the U.S. ambassador to the U.N. had a hand in cancelling the air support – but again, I cannot verify this.

An opening came up in the plant in Alicante, Spain and I was asked if I would like to go there. They sent me, Ann and Kerry to look at it. We went first class to New York and stayed one night in the Plaza Hotel. Then we went first class on the first TWA 747 to London and spent two nights at the Grovesnor House. Then to Paris for one night and on to Alicante. Caviar had replaced Corn Bread

Shortly before I left Guatemala a group from Weyerhaeuser Headquarters came to Guatemala to announce that the new prices for Kraft liner and semi chem medium would be based on the KEA prices. This was an increase of about 30% and changed all of the box prices since these items are the basic raw materials for a corrugated box.

I wrote the following letter:

Mr. Walter Paulson

Vice President

Weyerhaeuser Corp.

Dear Walt,

I enjoyed the visit from the KEA group and, since I have no alternative, I accept the new prices. I thought KEA stood for Kraft Export Association but in checking the dictionary, I find that the definition of a KEA is “a large parrot with a hooked beak which preys on lambs and feasts on their kidneys” (copy attached).

We little lambs are pretty helpless and when something comes in and rips out our kidneys, it has destroyed our last defense.

Regards,

M. B. Tilson

I got a call from Walt asking if he could send this to the other members of the Kraft Export Association. I agreed but I said “What I was trying to say was P–s on you. He laughed and said “We got the message”.

I accepted the transfer with pleasure but with sadness at leaving Guatemala. The saddest part was the fact that I had to make a decision on my successor. Carlos Vasquez had been my right arm and was always considered the likely successor when a Guatemaltecan took over. However, Carlos did not know the manufacturing end of the business nor the sales area. In spite of my personal feelings, for the good of the operation I had to recommend Manolo. Carlos Vasquez had tears in his eyes – so did I. Manolo’s performance justified my faith in him.

1970-1971

SPAIN

We signed a lease for an apartment on the first floor of the Torre Alicant, a 30 storied apartment and condo building an egg’s throw from the Mediterranean. Bill and Debi had just been married and, being summer vacation at school, we brought them over to Alicante to spend their honeymoon. The second floor apartment turned out to be a disaster. There was constant noise from the beach and it was hot, hot, hot. The owner of the building had a pent house apartment on the 30th floor and through one of the few English speaking people in Alicante, we learned that it was available for rent. I went to the Englishman from whom we rented the 1st floor apartment and explained my dilemma. He could have given me a rough time since I had signed a one year lease. Instead, he said “Contracts are made to be broken” and we moved up to the sky. I sincerely believe that if we had remained on the 1st floor, Bill and Debi would have been divorced before the end of the summer – as it were, the 30th floor was magnificent with a fantastic view and a constant breeze.

From a personal standpoint, the stay in Spain was excellent but I was not happy with the business climate. Perhaps I was spoiled by the staff in Guatemala but my staff in Spain did not function the same. There was conflict between the Production Manager and the Sales Managers and the Controller. There was conflict between the Sales department and the Scheduling department. There just was not the atmosphere which I require to run an efficient plant. It soon became clear that I was going to have to decide which of the department heads I could work with (and who could work together) and which group had to go. Part of the problem was that one department was headed by an Englishman, one by Spaniards and one by a Mexican. I, being an American further confused the issue.  Another difficulty was that I was not very fluent in Spanish at that time so I had difficulty in communicating my ideas to the Spanish speaking staff. I had a completely bilingual secretary but memos do not replace face to face discussions.

My first four weeks after being transferred were not too pleasant. Bill King, my predecessor, had suffered a terrible tragedy.  He had two children, about 6 and 8 years of age and his wife died in childbirth with the third. As a result, he asked to be transferred back to the USA to raise his children. A spot was found for him and I was moved to Alicante. However, in the interim, Bill (who is a fine person and who became a good friend) had a change of mind and decided he wanted to stay. As a result, he remained and I was excluded from staff meetings and really, although I was technically the Manager, I did not know what was going on. This was finally straightened out by the Regional Manager and I began to settle down to work. The competitive situation in Spain was tough and box prices were low. I realized this one weekend when I was floating around in a 6 foot rubber boat I had bought and I saw our major customer go by in his 60 foot yacht.

I seem to have been destined to be in countries which had formerly been ruled by a dictator and where the influence of such a domineering individual remained. In the case of Spain, the dictator was still in power because Franco was still very much in charge.  Spain at this time was one of the safest places in the world if you did not break the law or dabble in politics. The Guardia Civil worked in a city for a few months and were then transferred to another location. There were always two of them together. This system was because a short assignment did not leave time for them to become too familiar with the local population. Working with another person prevented any one person from starting any sort of “racket”.

I mentioned before that we were an “egg’s throw from the Mediterranean”. The reason I did not use the usual “stone’s throw” is the result of a party in which the Spanish wine flowed easily (as it so often did). My dear Ann made the statement that she could throw one of the hard boiled eggs, which were on the table, into the sea. I told her it was impossible and if it fell short it would kill someone on the beach. She proceeded to wind up and heave the egg into the surf.

On another occasion, when I was returning from a trip to Madrid with one of my staff, objects began to fall on the pavement around us as we approached the building. Looking up, we saw Ann, Bill, Debi and Kerry heaving grapes down on us. My friend said “I think the lot of them are drunk.”-Vino de la casa was cheap and good.

During the summer there was a different work schedule in Spain at that time. I doubt it still exists but we started work at 7:30 am, worked straight through until 3:00 pm and the day was over. Our habit was to wait until I got home to have lunch. This usually consisted of tortilla Espan~ol, tuna and onion salad or fish.  We ate this on the balcony and quite often, in addition to Ann, Kerry, Bill, Debi and I we were joined by our friend Trevor Snart who had the apartment directly under us. Trevor, along with Doris and Alex Purper were the only English speaking friends we had. As a matter of fact, they, along with two or three other people were the only English speaking people in Alicante. Trevor had a nice boat and we water skied behind it in the beautiful Mediterranean

One our favorite entertainments was to go to the castle for the Flamenco dancing. It was authentic and exciting. The castle is on a cliff and would be inaccessible if it were not for the road which has been bulldozed out of the rock. I was told that Napoleon passed it by in his conquest of Europe because the only way to take it would have been a siege. There was a well for fresh water and I understand that the townspeople would bring the sheep, goats and cattle into the compound and there were vegetable gardens as well.  Not too comfortable but secure.

Bill and Debi returned to Blacksburg after having spent a rather nice honeymoon. I think, and hope, they still remember it fondly.

We also enjoyed the Gallo Rojo which was an outdoor night club featuring artists such as Julio Iglesius. On Sundays, after Kerry left for school, Ann and I had a routine – we would have lunch at the Pizzeria Romano and then go to the small village of Santo Polo to watch the fishing boats come in and unload. They had squid, tuna, and every kind of fish imaginable – interesting.

Pizzeria Romano was owned and run by a Frenchman who was in exile. He had been one of 8 people in Algeria involved in the plot to assassinate Charles DeGualle. The day DeGaulle died he closed the restaurant and had an all night party. We always have said that the people we met in International operations were interesting – we did not always like them or agree with them but they were interesting and not dull.

There were no English speaking schools in Alicante so after Bill and Debi returned to VPI, we enrolled Kerry in TASIS – the American School In Switzerland, in Lugano, Switzerland. We drove her to school the first time on a 4 day trip. We went through Barcelona, Marseille, Nice, Cannes, Genoa and Lake Como.

Kerry was a little car sick on the road and once we stopped at a gas station in Italy. She was lounging on the back seat with the long blonde hair spread out on the seat. The gas station attendant, an Italian about 20 years old looked in and said “Mamma Mia”.

We stayed at the Splendide Royal in Lugano and slept on feather beds with poofs on top of us. Out of the window we could see the Funicular going up the mountain with skiers. Depending on which slope you took, you could end up in Switzerland or Italy.

Kerry, never having been away from home except for summer camp or tennis tournaments, was crying when we left. This was difficult but the head master said this was normal and he assigned some girls who had been there last year to take her under their wing.

We left and decided to go back through the Alps – a fabulous but scary trip. We stopped at the top of a mountain to have something to eat and avail ourselves of the sanitary facilities. Ann came out with her panty hose wet. The bathroom consisted of two large concrete “feet” and a hole in the ground. Having slightly different equipment, I had no trouble.

On the way back we stopped at a beautiful small hotel in Montpelier where we had spent the night on the way over. It was called Les Violets- one of many such places in France.

TASIS, bedsides being a good school, was a place where wealthy people sent their children when they did not have time to raise them. Among the students were the children of Ramfis Trujillo, the son of Victor Sued (one of Trujillo’s confidents), the children of “Hoss Cartwright” and the children of Dina Merrill and the children of Robert Wagner. Kerry also had a friend named Siegred who lived in Hawaii and who later turned up in Mexico unannounced and with her whereabouts unknown to her parents.

TASIS adjourned to San Moritz for the month of January. Kerry came home for Christmas and cried when she had to leave for San Moritz. When it came time to leave San Moritz for Lugano, she called and cried again. I think she now realizes the fantastic experiences she had.

We brought Bill and Debi over for the Christmas holidays and had a great time. The highlight was New Year’s Eve at Pizzeria Romano. This was a fixed price dinner, paid in advance. I soon found out why. The meal started out to be pretty dull and, with many courses, the service was a bit slow. All of the family except me wanted to skip dessert and go home. I insisted that we stay.

Soon after dessert the champagne began to flow and there were bottles on each table. Soon the music started and someone began a Conga Line. In order to reach the bath room, one had to get in the Conga Line and drop off at the bathroom door. To return to your table, it was the reverse. By the end of the evening Kerry was dancing with the cook and Debi was trying to elude an old gentleman who delighted in putting confetti down the front of her dress. As near as I remember, a good time was had by all. A swim in the ocean is about the best hangover cure which exists. I had a friend in the Marine Corps who called it the “Big Bromo Seltzer”. We needed it.

We became good friends with Florence Marzec, my bi-lingual secretary. She took us to some cliffs outside of Benidorm and introduced us to “Churros y Chocolate” – delicious. She also took us to a small village on top of the mountain – a place we returned many times with guests (you have a lot of friends from home when you live on the Mediterranean).

This little village used to be a walled village but had turned into a tourist attraction. There were ladies making lace and there were donkeys to ride up the trail which led to the entrance through the wall. The donkeys had diapers on to keep the trail clean – I had never seen this before.

We also played quite a bit of tennis that summer. Trevor had been on the Junior Davis Cup team in his home town and had really struggled to make the big time but, like most of us, he did not have the talent. When Bill was there during the summer we played doubles and Bill told Trevor he had quit playing tennis when he started in Architectural school. Bill had been schooled and during his last years in high school he grew enough and had enough coaching and experience to be an excellent player – as did Kerry. After our first session Trevor said to Bill “Tell me, why did you quit?”.

The Weyerhaeuser policy for international was to pay the tuition for the children in local schools. After seeing the tuition at TASIS they agreed to pay only part and our part was substantial – but worth it.

So far I have spoken mainly of the social parts of our stay in Spain. Part of this is because of my difficulty in adapting to the staff but the largest part was that I could sense that the attitude was changing in Weyerhaeuser and I felt that the International Division was being shunted aside. This turned out to be true and Weyerhaeuser has now disposed of all of the overseas converting operations and are concentrating on exporting wood, chips, pulp, paper and boxes rather than producing them overseas.

I wrote Henry Dabdoub in Mexico – just a social letter – and he replied, asking me to come to Mexico to manage his operations there. I accepted and submitted my resignation to Weyerhaeuser with great regret because it was a fine company. They asked me to stay for three months so they could find a replacement and of course I agreed.

Jack Wacheter who was the new V.P.  in charge of all box plants, including International, came to Brussels and asked me to meet him there. I did and he told me that he was re-organizing the European division and he was debating between me and Jim Jordan to be in charge. He asked if this would change my mind about leaving. I told him “No” because I felt that since I had resigned, a change of mind would always make me suspect.

1971-1975

MEXICO

During these three months, Henry Dabdoub sold half of his operation to Owens Illinois with a management contract so when I got to Mexico, I had no job.  I was a surprise to O-I and they had appointed their own manager. Henry assigned me to build the paper mill in Tierra Colorada – about 50 miles from Acapulco – in the state of Guererro. This was, and still is, a dangerous place for foreign executives. I traveled the mountains of Guererro in a jeep, making contracts with people to supply wood for the mill. People asked me if I were afraid of being kidnapped. I replied “No, because I don’t have any money and they know Henry Dabdoub would not pay 15 cents to get me released.”

Henry lived to a ripe old age and it was said that when he found “You can’t take it with you” he decided that he was not going.

Henry Dabdoub was one of a kind. He was born in New Jersey of Lebanese parents. English speaking people thought his first language was Spanish. Spanish people thought his first language was English. He was brilliant but could barely write. He used to rise at 6:00 a. m, walk in his garden and make notes. He turned these almost illegible notes over to me and I would then write a letter to whomever, paraphrasing his ideas.

He moved to New Orleans and sold tires. While there in a cafe, he bought a Blue Plate Special for a Mexican who had no money. This probably cost 35 cents at that time. The Mexican had been the personal secretary to Pancho Villa and later became part of the government organization. He invited Henry to come to Mexico to set up the telephone system for the government. Henry accepted, bought two old telephones, painted them in his hotel room and presented a plan to the government for setting up their communications. They accepted. He then called Stromberg Carlson which was at that time a dominate figure in telephones as well as radio. He got a one page contract with them which lasted for 35 years. This is how he made his first millions.

At that time all paper for boxes and all corrugated boxes were imported. Henry, being very perceptive, realized that the government was going to prohibit imports to try to stimulate local business so he started Envases, Cartones y Papeles (a box plant) and Kraft, S.A. (a recycle paper mill). This was the beginning of his empire in the box business. This later expanded to Cajas Empaques de Texcoco, Papeles Texcoco, Cajas Empaques de Guadalajara and Cajas Empaques de Guatemala.

He sold half of the Guatemalan operation to Weyerhaeuser and half of the Mexican operation to O-I, although Weyerhaeuser and Inland container were both bidding on the Mexican operation.

After a year, the manager O-I had sent to Mexico could not adapt to the Latin way of doing business (he was of German extraction) nor could he get along with Henry. O-I sent one of their vice presidents, an administrative manager, a paper mill manager and a controller to take over. They asked me to move from the Dabdoub side to the O-I side and manage the two box plants.

We started out living in an apartment on Fernando Alencaster on the edge of Chapultepec Park. Then we moved to a house on Cerrado de Quiroga at the beginning of the highway to Toluca. Although Cerrada de Quiroga was only 10 miles from my office it took me an hour to drive through the city. So, after fighting the traffic and the smog for three years, we moved to Cuernavaca. This was 40 miles away from my office but I could get to the office quicker than I could from crossing the city.

Cuernavaca, like Guatemala City, advertised the climate as “Eternal Spring” – and this is accurate. Being not too far from the equator but at 5,000 feet in altitude, almost everything will grow, there is never excessive heat or cold and the air is clear.

The house we rented was on a cul de sac with only one other house. It had a swimming pool and a lovely garden.  We could swim in the day time and have a fire in the fireplace at night. We also had Eladia, perhaps the most marvelous maid in the world. Kerry and Debi still covet her and, if she were available, I am sure they would kick husbands and kids out of the house if necessary to have a place for “Lala”
One day I had gone to the plant in Texcoco and received a message to return to headquarters immediately. When I arrived I found that all of the American were there. We were informed that headquarters had decided that Owens Illinois could not get along with Henry’s unorthodox ways of doing business and we were all instructed to turn in our resignations. Everyone in the group except I had worked for O-I in the States and had reasonably good assurance of getting located somewhere in the company. I could see problems because of my level and no contacts in the company in the USA it was going to be hard to find a spot for me. I asked if it would hurt my chances with O-I if I made some inquires on my own. I was encouraged to do this.

I called Ivan Wood and told him of the situation. He said he would see what he could do. In about an hour he called and said “Bud Schaefer of Inland Container wants you. Give him a call”.

I had met Bud only once before. He came to Mexico and tried to get an appointment with Henry Dabdoub to discuss buying his business. Henry sent me to meet him and tell him that Owens-Illinois had just purchased 50%.

1976

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC #1

Inland Container was dealing with Ricardo Hernandez to purchase his Corrugated Box Plant in Santo Domingo, The Dominican Republic. They hired me to be the “advance Man” in preparation for the purchase.

My first assignment, before I had been to the Dominican Republic, was to represent Ricardo Hernandez in a group coming to Mexico from the Dominican Republic. Ricardin (as he was known) had a Spanish passport and at that time it was a lengthy process for a Spaniard to get a visa for Mexico. The purpose of this delegation was to investigate making tissue from sugar cane bagasse. Bagasse is what is left after sugar cane is processed. The sugar mills burn this residue in their boilers to generate electricity. If the bagasse were to be used for paper making, the government sugar mill in the Dominican village of Haina would have to convert to using petroleum to generate electricity. The refitting of the boiler to use petroleum would cost an estimated $ 1 million.

There were two operations in Mexico using this material with different manufacturing processes. One was Kimberly Clark and one was a process developed by W. R. Grace Company.  Bagasse was also being used, along with waste paper, to make corrugating medium in Aricibo, Puerto Rico.

The Dominican delegation had come up with an estimate of $5 million for the installation of a bagasse pulping operation. I was by no means an expert in this field but after seeing the two Mexican installations, the $5 million appeared to be way short of the investment needed. Also, they had planned to sell the excess production. I kept asking “Where do sell bagasse pulp?” and I was assured that there was a big market. I pointed out that the Yellow Sheet (the nickname for The Official Board Market) listed the price of Liner Board, Corrugated Medium. Waste Paper, Bleached Wood Pulp and Unbleached Wood Pulp. There was no mention of Bagasse Pulp.

I realized that I was beginning to sound negative and I did not want to start my stay in The Dominican Republic that way so for the rest of the trip I mostly listened.

Upon return to the D.R. the delegation decided to call on a bagasse expert in the United

Nations. He came to The D.R. and told them that the $5 million investment they were planning was not valid and that to pulp bagasse it would take an investment of at least $25 million. That ended the project.

When I arrived in The Dominican Republic Ricardo Hernandez was in Spain but he had left instructions to make all of the records available to me. By the time he returned from Spain I had time to get a good look at all of his businesses. At that time besides Cartonera Hernandez (a corrugated box plant), he also had Cartonera Cibao (a folding box plant), Cartones Haina (a recycle paper mill) Fosforos Sol (a match company), Desperdeco, a waste paper collecting company) and Transportation (a trucking company).

After all this research and with stories I had heard, I began to realize what an interesting fellow I was working for.

One thing I found was that Ricardin, as he was known locally, was married to Trujillo’s niece. As a result, he was a friend of Ramfis Trujillo, the dictator’s famous (or infamous) son. This also included a close acquaintance with Porfirio Rubirosa who was the subject of the book “The Last Playboy” by ======.

Ricardin had taken over the management of Cartonera Hernandez in his early 20’s upon the death of his father.  All of the other businesses of the group were started by Ricardin.

After spending 10 days going over the books, I realized that the purchase of Cartonera Hernandez by Inland Container was not going to happen because what Ricardin was saying and what Inland had told me did not match. It was not that Ricardin was lying, it was just that, as with most entrepreneurs, he did not bother with details and always thought in terms of what he was going to do next-not what was actually the situation.

When the audit, which Inland had required, came back, Inland asked us to come to New York to meet.  There we met with Bud Schaefer and others. They said “Ricky, (the English equivalent of Ricardin) we think you are a great guy but the audit shows a big difference in what you told us about your company and what the actual results are. We are sorry but we have to withdraw our offer”.

I was not surprised by this but Ricardin felt betrayed and never forgave Inland. He asked me to stay with him and I agreed to stay for a year and see how things worked out.

Upon returning to Santo Domingo the company obviously needed some financing since the sale did not go through. We went to Citibank, a branch of the U.S. bank, which was the largest bank in the Dominican Republic. Ricardin had dealt with them as well as most banks in Santo Domingo, so they were familiar with the Hernandez companies. They asked how much he needed and he said “$600,000”.

They asked me how much I thought he needed and I replied “$ 4 million”. Ricardin almost fell out of his chair but the bankers were not surprised because they had copies of all of the Balance Sheets. They shaved us down to $3 million and we were able to re structure the group’s finances and were in pretty good shape.

We found a nice house in Santo Domingo and moved there. Although I liked working for

Ricky, we did not like living in the Dominican Republic. We had become friends with

John Blandino, the manager of the Hotel Hispaniola and he gave us a special rate on a Suite in the Hotel. We terminated our lease on the house and moved in the hotel.

Also in the hotel was the cast and technicians from the movie “The Sorcerer” which was

which was being filmed in the Dominican Republic. This movie starred Roy Schieder

who had just finished, with acclaim, “Jaws”in which he played the sheriff. He, his wife and others in the cast and the technical staff were interesting people and we learned a little about the surprisingly complex job of making a movie.

We were going to the USA for Christmas and I contacted Bud Schaefer to see if there was any reason to stop b y the headquarters of Inland Container while we were in the States and he said “The timing is perfect. We are going to start a consulting service in Latin America and Europe and we would like for you to be the Manager in Europe. Needless to say, Ann was ecstatic.

I gave a two month notice to Ricardin and at the end of the two months we went to Indianapolis, the Inland headquarters, for a two month training period.

By coincidence, our son Bill who was teaching at VPI, had just accepted a job in the department of Architecture at The University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida. On his way there he, his wife Debi and daughter Jennifer stopped by Indianapolis and spent a wonderful week with us. We were staying at the Columbia Club-a delightful place which had live music with dinner at night. Hoagy Carmichael, the composer of “Stardust” , and his orchestra  had played there after his graduation from the University of Indiana. He was fired because he insisted on playing Jazz instead of dinner music.

1977-1979

BRUSSELS

I had the option of selecting a base for the operation and I chose Brussels because it was central to all of Europe and we had liked it so much the few times we had been there at the Headquarters of Weyerhaeuser in Europe. This became our favorite location although there was something special about all of our assignments. Being the Headquarters of The Common Market and NATO made it an ideal headquarters for U.S. businesses with operations in Europe. Consequently, we met some highly interesting people such as the military attaché to NATO, the president of General Foods-Europe, the European head of IBM to name a few. We were also impressed with the language capability of the European business personnel. It was not unusual to attend a meeting and have some members ask “what language do you wish to use?”

The job was highly interesting because, to make preliminary contacts I called on virtually all of the members of FEFCO (the European equivalent of the Fibre Box Association in the USA) This included corrugated box plants in England, Portugal, Spain, France, Germany, The Netherlands,  Belgium, Austria, Finland, Norway. While these preliminary trips produced very little business, the name of Inland Container became a household word in Europe.

I took Ann with me on many of the trips so that she became very familiar with what I was doing. One of her favorite trips was to Finland. The Board of Directors invited both of us to have lunch in the Executive dining room. We joked ahead of time that we probably would be served “Rudolph’. Sure enough, the first course was smoked Reindeer. It was sliced paper thin and was delicious. We did not realize that, in the Nordic countries, reindeer are herded and bred just as we do cattle.

Both business and personal life were great but, like many pleasant things, sometimes it is too good to last.

News came from headquarters that Time Magazine (Time Inc) had purchased Inland Container and the overseas operations were being closed. It was a sad time in the Tilson household.

Thinking that perhaps we would never get back to Europe, we decided to take a tour of Scotland since we had never been there. A friend, Jim Tappan-the President of General Foods-Europe, suggested an itinerary which turned out to be fantastic. We drove to Rotterdam, boarded the ferry and crossed over to Eye in northern England. We then drove to Edinburg, Scotland. I asked a passing motorist for directions to our hotel. Instead of giving me verbal instructions he said “follow me” and he led us to the hotel- that’s hospitality. As so often happens when it is least expected, there were two couples from Lynchburg Va. Staying in the hotel so we caught up on the news from our previous residence. We also had the traditional Scottish dish of Haggis which is intestines and is traditionally washed down by a jigger of straight Scotch whiskey.

From Edinburg we drove to Aberdeen and stayed one night Glasgow. Then we drove to the Isle of Sky, passing Loch Ness on the way. Unfortunately, the Loch Ness Monster did not make an appearance as we passed. The Inn on the Isle of Skye is delightful. While we were there it was snowing. There were no rooms available at the Inn so we had a room in the owner’s house which adjoined the Inn. When we went to bed we found hot bricks in the bed, making for a cozy sleep. The next morning we were invited by the owner’s wife to join them in their living room. The owner, a retired colonel in the British Army who had been posted in India was seated in front of a roaring fire, having his morning Scotch and soda-not a bad way to start a cold day.

Our next stop was Inverlochy Castle and this turned out to be the high point of the trip. It is an old castle converted to a guest house with about 15 rooms. It is owned by one of the family members, a descendent of the original owners. His current occupation was as owner of a local whiskey distillery and he left the management of the Castle to his wife. She is a delightful and attractive Swedish lady. We arrived about 3 pm and when we checked in she said “I’m so sorry but you are too late for lunch. All we can offer you is Salmon sandwiches and champagne”. (Caviar was still in effect).

From there we went to the famous golf resort of Glen Eagles which is excellent but a bit of a let down after Inverlochy. The back to the ferry and return to plan the next move.

Inland offered me a job  managing a corrugated box plant in Princeton, New Jersey and while I’m sure this is a great town, we had gotten used to being “International Gypsies” and did not really want to return to the USA (although it remains the greatest country in the world).

1980 – 1994

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC # 2

I made contact with Ricardo Hernandez and he welcomed me back to work for him. When I left Cartonera Hernandez I said “Ricardin, the Hernandez group is in good financial shape and if you will spend a couple of years just managing it without starting something new, it will generate enough income to pay for any expansion without financing and jeopardizing the existing companies. I know this will be difficult because you are an entrepreneur and you thrive on crisis but please try.

He had followed this advice for 6 months and then bought a box plant in Puerto Rico and a mushroom growing company in Constanza, Dominican Republic.

Since we had not been happy living in the D.R., he agreed that I could live elsewhere and commute. Ann and I looked diligently for a place in Puerto Rico but found that it was much like the D.R. Since there were direct flights to Miami we decided to buy a place in Coral Gables, Florida.  We found a nice condo at Biltmore 2 and settled in, meeting some new friends by recommendation of mutual friends in La Grange, Georgia.

I was assigned to straighten out Sun Container, the plant Ricky had bought. It turned out that this was one box plant too many for Puerto Rico. This plant hade been started by one of the survivors of the Bay of Pigs operation and a Puerto Rican. At that time the “Operation  Bootstrap[“ was in effect and one provision was that any industry not existing on the island at the start of the project would be tax exempt for many years. Although there were Sheet Plants on the island there no corrugators so this qualified for tax exemption. The other 3 plants had this same exemption and the strategy was to form two companies- one with the corrugator and the other with the finishing equipment. All the profit was funneled into the tax exempt company. This is why Ricardin bought the company but, of course, this is of no value if there is no profit. He had asked for an audit before the closing and it came back negative. He bought it anyway and kept one of the founders on as sales manager.

In addition to giving Ricardin false information about the health of the company. they failed to tell him that their strategy for breaking into the market was to sell at ridiculously low prices. At these prices, the more we sold, the more we lost.

After a fighting a losing battle for a year, Sun Container was finally closed and I moved from Puerto Rico to the Dominican Republic.

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