The 1959 field meeting was held at Williamsburg, the heart of Colonial National Historical Park. There Bill Carnes and his group gave a resume of the progress in Mission 66 and how it looked to the future. Our good friends the glassmakers, who contributed greatly to the reproduction of the old colonial glass furnaces of 1608 on Glass House Point at Jamestown, were present, including Carl Gustkey, president of the Imperial Glass Company in Wheeling, West Virginia. Carl had provided glasses with the Park Service emblem and Mission 66 on them for each field meeting starting in 1953.

At the meeting in 1961, at the Grand Canyon, we were working under a new secretary, Stewart Udall, and this was his first exposure to many of the Park Service people, though as a congressional representative from Arizona he had served on the Public Lands Committee, and so he was no stranger to us. We felt sure that what we were doing met with his approval. I had received my appointment as a career employee under a Democratic administration from Secretary Chapman and had gone through two terms of Republican secretaries, Doug McKay and Fred Seaton, with no problems what soever. While Mission 66 had been started when Secretary McKay was in office, we had taken great pains not to allow party politics to enter our operations. Things went along very quietly with the change of administration, and we soon learned that we were going to get very good support from Udall. I was just a little bit concerned about my status, because although Stew had practically assured me that all was well, he wanted to talk to the president. About two weeks after taking office, however, President John F. Kennedy came out with a statement to the effect that he was not going to make any changes in the National Park Service. Of course the president had been a senator, and while I had had no direct contact with him I'm sure he knew of our activities in Massachusetts, which included the Cape Cod National Seashore Area and the famous Minute Man National Historical Park, between Lexington and Concord.

It was at the Grand Canyon meeting that I began to think about the inevitable close of my Park Service career. I was in my sixties, and it seemed to me that I should either retire late in 1963 and give the new director a year to get settled in the job before the presidential election year in 1964, or plan to stay on until late 1965 or perhaps to the end of Mission 66, which would be June 30, 1966. By the late fall of 1961, I began to give retirement more serious thought. In October, Eivind Scoyen, Ronnie Lee, and three others who would not be in the running for the directorship because of their health or their age met with me in a motel near Annapolis. I told them that I planned to retire about a year before the 1964 presidential election and wanted to talk with the secretary about my replacement. I asked them to help me select at least five men in the service who would make a good director. I wanted to make a very strong appeal for the appointment of somebody from within the service. We discussed many candidates and selected five.

Nineteen sixty-two was a very busy year. Scoyen retired the first week in January, and I did not appoint a new associate director because I wanted to get the secretary committed on the next director. I would appoint as my associate director the man he selected to succeed me. I wished that Eivind had stayed on for another year, but I never asked him to because he had stayed on four years longer than he had originally agreed. In 1962 I was chairman of the board of the National Conference on State Parks, and in the fall I was elected president of the American Institute of Park Executives. The AIPE was the oldest park and recreation organization, having been founded in 1898, and it had a membership of some four thousand city park people.

The eighteen months between June, 1962, and the end of 1963 brought one problem after another in rapid succession. It all really started with an interview I gave to the U.S. News & World Report, which I thought was pretty good. I had notified the department of the magazine's request, saying that unless they objected I was going to grant the interview. The interview took place about ten days before the first world conference on national parks held in Seattle, Washington. It is the policy of U.S. News & World Report to send the transcript to the interviewee for review before it is printed. The magazine sent the transcript by air mail to Seattle, where I was attending the conference, and asked me to return it in four days. I spent the night going over it, and it read very well. Two of the department's public relations men were at the conference, and I asked them to go over it. They made only two or three suggestions, which I accepted. Secretary Udall was there, and I asked him whether he wanted to read it. He said, "No, if they have gone over it it's okay." So I sent it back to the publishers and told them it was all right with the changes I had indicated. The article appeared in the August issue. A few days after it came out I received a letter from the secretary that startled me, and I feel even today that he never actually wrote it, nor did those who reviewed the transcript in Seattle.

August 15, 1962

Dear Connie:

I have just finished reading the interview with you which appeared in the current issue of the U.S. News & World Report. To be quite candid, I must report that I read this article with amazement and chagrin. Your reappointment as Director was announced by President Kennedy; you also head a Service which is an integral part of the Department of the Interior—but any reader would inspect this article in vain for evidence that you are aware of any ties to this Administration, or that you have any serious interest in the new programs which it has presented to the Congress and the American people.

If this article reveals your true state of mind, I would suggest that you get aboard—QUICK!

Sincerely,
Stewart L. Udall
Secretary of the Interior

I replied to these surprising remarks with the following letter:

August 17, 1962

Dear Stew:

This is in reply to your "QUICK" note of August 15.

I question whether anybody has tried harder to stay in the background, or to carry out your wishes, than I have. I believe the record will show this, and we can do more if given a chance.

I can make mistakes like anyone else, but when one's loyalty and motives are questioned in a note like yours of August 15, it cuts pretty deep. I sincerely hope that my interpretation of your note in this respect is wrong.

Briefly, the Department knew of this informal interview in advance. The transcript was mailed to me in Seattle and I was requested to return it in four days. I asked Dick Rodgers and Jim Faber to look it over, which they did. They made suggestions, which were accepted, and I feel sure they thought it was a pretty good interview. I asked you whether you wanted to see it, but your time was so limited that you had to pass it up. I quoted you in one place because I had heard you express yourself on that particular subject. I am sorry they did not indicate in the introduction that the National Park Service is a Bureau of the Department of the Interior—they should have.

What I said I believe in very sincerely, and I believe it is not in variance to your beliefs to any great degree even though you no doubt would have expressed your opinions in a different way.

I should like to have talked to you about this in person; however, you are out of town and your note requires an early reply. I leave Wednesday, August 22, for an extended field trip to check on our operations; something I have put off for two years. If you will have time to see me on Monday or Tuesday, I will appreciate it very much.

Sincerely yours,
Conrad L. Wirth
Director

My letter was never answered or acknowledged either in writing or orally. I could understand the secretary's concern, but I resented his threat and his implications. I agree that the magazine's introduction should have indicated that the Park Service was a bureau of the Department of the Interior: we are just as proud of the department as are the secretaries who come and go. Further, there is one error in his letter. He mentions that President Kennedy reappointed me as director, whereas the only appointment as director that I received, and all that was necessary, was the appointment by Secretary Chapman. I never received an appointment to the directorship of the National Park Service from any president, nor did I receive one from Secretaries McKay, Seaton, or Udall. President Kennedy did announce that he wanted me to stay on, and I appreciated that very much because I imagine he could have done the same thing that President Richard Nixon did January 1, 1973, when he removed Director George Hartzog, a career man, and put in a political appointee. But he didn't, and neither did Eisenhower or Johnson.

Another unfortunate occurrence of 1962 ought to be recorded. In the 1930s there was a need, which continues today, to preserve a fairly large tract of long grass prairie land as it existed before the arrival of white settlers. In Kansas, near Topeka, there are thousands of acres of long prairie grass that would make a very fine prairie national park. A careful analysis of the local situation was made, and we gained fairly good support from people in Kansas. We kept the secretary informed of our activities, and he expressed a desire to see the area. We got the cooperation of all the landowners concerned, state and Kansas University officials, and the local newspapers in a plan to take the secretary on a three-hour helicopter trip over the proposed park, making several stops. We made a dry run, without the secretary, which went smoothly.

On the first setdown on the secretary's trip, however, there was a man waiting for us. Secretary Udall was first out of the plane and went right over to shake his hand. The man ordered him off the property. The secretary, without saying anything more or giving us a chance to straighten the matter out, returned to the helicopter and canceled the rest of the trip. I talked to the man and found that he was not the owner but a tenant farmer. The owner had in fact given us permission to land on the property at this precise location, but apparently the tenant disagreed with the owner and decided to exercise a little authority of his own. Anyway, the secretary returned to Washington. I went on with the trip and spoke at a public hearing and at the university and got a good reception. I also gave a tape-recorded interview to a newspaper reporter and got a nice write-up from that. While I was with the tenant farmer, however, I was photographed talking to the man by a newspaper photographer. It was cold and windy, and the noise of the helicopter was so disturbing that we had to shout at each other to make ourselves heard, which made it look in the picture as though we were almost coming to blows. That picture went all over the country; in fact, I got word from my younger son, who was a major in the Air Force then stationed in Germany, that it had appeared in the military newspaper with some comment about the government seizing private property. It did not appear in the Topeka paper, which was owned by the former secretary of the interior under the Eisenhower administration, Fred Seaton.

Back in Washington I got a memorandum dated December 6 from the assistant to the secretary. It read in part as follows:

It appears to me that insufficient planning went into the preparation for the Secretary's visit to the site of the proposed Prairie National Park. Neither the temper of the residents nor the political realities were taken into consideration adequately.

First, to me there is no excuse for exposing the Secretary to the kind of treatment and publicity he received from the irate rancher. Advance checking with owners or operators of the ranches where stops were planned would have avoided this.

Second, this is a Democratic Administration, and we are not going to leave arrangements in the hands of Republicans. If the Republican is so minded, he can easily arrange incidents like the one in Kansas, which made most of the newspapers. At best, he can be interested only in his own publicity and his own aims—not those of the Secretary or the Administration. Further, if there is any political advantage to accrue to local politicians, we are not playing fair with people who support us if we let a member of the opposite party "grab the glory."

Apart from the primary subject of this memorandum, I don't believe the incident with the rancher particularly improved the chances of getting this park established.

I do not propose to cooperate in future park inspection trips unless there is assurance of better and more realistic planning. You, Assistant Secretary Carver, and I have the only three copies of this memorandum.

I went up to the assistant's office with his memorandum after checking the record to be sure of myself. In answer to his second paragraph I told him the record was clear that all property owners had been approached and had given their approval. Further, I reported that two Park Service planners had flown in the army helicopter and set down at every stop that we planned to make with the secretary a week before the secretary's trip and had encountered no trouble. I also informed him that the man who talked to the secretary was not the property owner. In answer to the third paragraph I assured him we were not playing party politics. The secretary's office had been in touch with the only Democratic representative from the western part of the state and also with the Republican representative in whose district the proposed national park was located and had been given the green light for a visit and inspection. I told him that we understood politics and knew that Kansas was a Republican state; also, that former Secretary Fred Seaton owned at least one paper in the nearby community and that his paper supported the project, as did the local representative and the university. I told him that if he or Carver released his memorandum while I was director and the secretary was in office I would have to answer it in full.

Now, because this is the kind of a book it is, I feel I can include this incident to illustrate what one is apt to run into in government service. Both Udall and I are out of office, as are Carver and the writer of the memo. Whether I convinced the assistant that the secretary's trip was carefully and prudently planned, I don't know. So far as I know Udall is not aware of the memorandum I got from his assistant.

It was the first part of August, 1962, when, in anticipation of retiring at the end of 1963, I felt it would be well to organize a task force to review Mission 66 and lay the groundwork for a program to follow it. They were to analyze very carefully what we had done and weigh the changes that had taken place in travel habits of the people; increased travel impact on the parks; types of equipment being developed for recreational use, especially camping; and everything that might affect the policies we should consider for future programs. We named this study and report "The Road to the Future." While I had it in mind to have this material ready for the new director if I retired, I did not say so. I stated that the main purpose of this examination was to give us at least two years to prepare a program that we could put into effect starting July 1, 1966, so that there would be no lag in our progress after Mission 66.

In January, 1963, I had lunch with Secretary Udall in his private dining room and showed him a draft of my letter requesting retirement (pages 302-303). I also told him the next Park Service field meeting was set for the fall in Yosemite and that we had a task force making a study of past accomplishments and changing conditions that could be the basis for a planned program after Mission 66, hence the theme of the conference would be "The Road to the Future." I said I would like very much for him to come out for the last day of the meeting and address us, at which time I would give him my letter requesting retirement. I also gave him the list of the five people in the service whom I hoped he would consider in selecting the next director. Secretary Udall was most agreeable; he understood my reasoning and thought the procedure I suggested was well planned. He told me he would be glad to have me stay on as director but would respect my wishes.

Two weeks later the secretary telephoned to say he had gone over the list of five names and had in mind selecting George Hartzog, who had been superintendent of Jefferson National Expansion Memorial in Saint Louis. George had left the service on August 21, 1962, to take a job with a businessmen's organization in Saint Louis as their executive officer, but both the secretary and I felt that the few months he had been out of the service presented no disadvantage. He was still a man with fifteen or sixteen years of Park Service experience, including several years in the Washington office handling concession contracts and land and legislative matters; field service in Rocky Mountain National Park as assistant superintendent and in Great Smoky Mountains National Park in the same capacity; and, of course, his three and a half years as the superintendent of Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, where he did an excellent job. I called George and offered him the job. He accepted and reported on duty as associate director on February 18, 1963.

U.S. DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR,
NATIONAL PARK SERVICE,
WASHINGTON, D.C., OCTOBER 18, 1963.

Hon. Stewart L. Udall
Secretary of the Interior,
Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Secretary:

As you know, I have been considering retirement since 1962. In February of this year, I submitted to you the names of five Park Service people that I felt were well qualified to fill the associate director position which had been vacant since Mr. Scoyen's retirement. Mr. Hartzog was selected from this list, and appointed. At that time, I indicated that I intended to retire in about a year, and gave you my reasons. While neither you nor Mr. Carver agreed that I should consider retirement, you indicated that you would respect my wishes. My reasoning has not changed since then.

You and the President have committed yourselves to further the development of a strong career service. Well-trained employees with an opportunity for advancement is basic to a strong career service. It is good government; it is good business. The National Park Service is a career service and, in my opinion, a very good one. It is a vigorous, capable, aggressive, and loyal organization, dedicated to serving the public in accordance with the objectives enacted into law by the Congress and the policies established by the administration and the Secretary of the Interior. These are traits that were built into it by its first directors, Stephen T. Mather and Horace M. Albright, and maintained down through the years by the directors who have followed them—Arno B. Cammerer, Newton B. Drury, and Arthur E. Demaray.

From my observations in over 35 years of Government service, I believe that if the integrity of career service is to be maintained and strengthened, three basic principles should be recognized:

1. Opportunity for advancement: There should be a general rule that key personnel subject to day-to-day pressures should retire in the early 60's, and younger, well-trained individuals advanced into the administrative and policymaking positions. This will result in quicker reactions to changes caused by our fast-growing national economy and the resulting increased needs of our people.

2. Use of knowledge and experience: There should be established within the framework of the civil service regulations a method for the retention of a reasonable number of senior employees as advisers, who would not be subject to day-to-day routine and pressures. This would bring better balance and stability into the organization. Today private business is picking up many of these well-trained Government employees on that basis.

3. Elimination of incentive distractions: The schedule C Classification should be abolished insofar as it is applied to the operating and technical career bureaus. I don't know of anything that has discouraged career employees more than the establishment of schedule C.

There is little that I can do about items 2 and 3, but knowing your strong feelings with reference to a better career service I could not help but express my thoughts. I can do something about item 1. Therefore, I respectfully request your approval of my retirement, to be effective after the close of business on January 11, 1964.

I shall always be proud and grateful for the opportunity afforded me by Directors Albright and Cammerer, and Secretary of the Interior Harold L. Ickes, to play an important role in the CCC program in the thirties, working with many bureaus of the Department and the leaders in the State Park field; and to Secretaries McKay, Seaton, and you for supporting the Mission 66 program during my tour of duty as the sixth director of the National Park Service. Of course, I have a warm spot in my heart for Secretary Oscar L. Chapman, for it was he who gave me my promotion to director of the National Park Service on December 9, 1951. I sincerely hope that I have lived up to his expectations. And you, Secretary Udall, have sparked and brought into focus the building of a national park system worthy of the American people. Certainly there is much yet to be done but the fact remains that the surge forward is underway, due largely to your efforts and leadership.

I believe we often forget the important contributions by our lawmakers, the elected representatives of the people, to the park and recreation programs. I have appeared before the committees of Congress for over 30 years and I have nothing but admiration, respect, and sincere appreciation for their helpful and thoughtful consideration of our requests and reports. I number many of them among my very best friends.

There are also the conservationists, individuals, and associations, as well as various civic minded people, many of whom have been of tremendous help to the Service and to me personally, for which I am most grateful.

And last, but most important next to Mrs. Wirth who has shared my ups and downs and is my greatest critic and by far my strongest supporter, are the employees of the National Park Service. I have known all of the five previous directors of the National Park Service, and worked on the staff of four of them. They taught me much and helped me greatly, and they know my deep appreciation. But, I also know that they would understand and agree when I say that I owe the greatest debt of gratitude to the many loyal and devoted associates of mine in the National Park Service. Many of them have retired since I joined the Service in 1931, and those that are still in the Service I grew up with. No bureau chief could ever have had a more devoted, hard working, and loyal organization than the people that make up the National Park Service. I shall never be able to adequately express to them my heartfelt appreciation. I commend them to you, and to the new Director.

Sincerely yours,
Conrad L. Wirth
Director

That year, 1963, saw many Mission 66 projects completed and dedicated. I took part in nine dedications and gave seventeen talks. The visitor center at Chancellorsville Battlefield near Fredericksburg, Virginia, was scheduled for dedication on May 4, and I was to be master of ceremonies. We invited Assistant Secretary John Carver to give the dedication address. He accepted, and although we were usually asked to help prepare a suitable draft for such an occasion, we got no such request from John. He was a lawyer by profession and very opinionated, dictatorial, and demanding at times. If he didn't get just what he wanted, he would flare up and become very critical, and then he would cool off. On May 1, I received word from the design and construction office that Carver had asked to see the plans for the visitor center. They sent him the only plans they had, which were construction drawings. I called the assistant secretary, telling him I felt the detailed plans would not give him a very good idea of what the building would look like, and I asked whether we could help him. He said he could write his speech without any help and added that perhaps I would not like what he intended to say. He said that when it was finished he would send me a copy so that I could read it if I wished. I received it the next day and read it that night. The whole gist of his talk was a running critique of the building itself the arrangement, and the architectural treatment. It was hard for me to believe that anybody, especially someone on the secretarial level, would accept an invitation to be the principal speaker at a public dedication and then be critical of the project and of one of his own agencies. I knew the building—I had approved the plans.

The next morning I called John and told him I disagreed with his remarks about the building and that I hoped he would not use them, adding that if he saw the building he would feel better about it. He said he was going to give his talk as he had prepared it. I couldn't believe my ears. I told him that if he gave that speech I would have to reply to his criticism on the spot. I further told him I couldn't believe that an administrative officer would criticize his own organization in public as he was proposing to do. That night I spent considerable time making notes for my rebuttal. I realized that to carry out my intention would constitute good grounds for dismissal, but I felt I could not live with myself or my associates if I didn't take a positive stand. I also knew that he was so far wrong and that public reaction would be so great that a dismissal would not stand up.

When I saw the finished building on the day of the dedication, it looked even better than I had envisioned. I asked whether Carver had arrived, and the ranger informed me he had taken the assistant secretary through the building and that he had seemed pleased and had gone off into the woods to finish preparing his remarks. The time for the dedication arrived. I got up on the platform and John followed, and in passing me he said, "Connie, I have changed my talk." I said, "I'm glad to hear that, John." He gave a very good talk. I thanked him for his speech and adjourned the dedication ceremonies. He never said another word to me about the occasion, and I never brought up the matter. I was very pleased that he had abandoned his original intention.