The Children's Crusade

Almost 30 years with the State of California, mostly in various administrative capacities, writing reports, exchanging memos, going to countless meetings, not a terribly exciting career. There was one exception, the Children’s Crusade. It wasn’t called the Children’s Crusade of course; that was my name for it. Officially, it was a plan to reform health services to “California’s children and youth.” It was a liberal era in California politics and some legislator had gotten a bill passed to do a study on this. The bill contained money enough to fund a small unit in California’s vast Department of Health for one year.

How did I become involved in this? At the time, my own little unit, which had to do with health statistics, had been wiped out and I’d been unemployed for three months.. A State worker losing his job, unheard of. It was rare but not impossible, especially if you’d made an enemy of a certain Deputy Director because you wouldn’t fudge the numbers to give him what he wanted. My wife Sally worked for a public relations firm and I’d been doing a little statistical work off the books so we weren’t exactly destitute. However, Sally was expecting our first baby in a few weeks so when I’d been summoned by the Department’s Data Branch head, my sometimes mentor DeWitt Bender, I’d come in immediately.

“I’ve found a spot for you,” said Bender.

“What?” I asked.

He proceeded to tell me about the Children and Youth Health unit “Isn’t that the one headed by Lola Hernandez? I hear she’s a real firebrand? Didn’t she pull a knife on somebody at one of her meetings?” Lola Hernandez had created quite a stir in her short stay with the Department. She’d been some kind of Latino activist before being hired by our liberal Governor.

“As far as I know, she hasn’t knifed anybody,” said DeWitt Bender. “But she is, ah, rather high-strung. That’s why I want you in her unit, Arnold. You can keep things under control.”

“How much longer does the unit have?”

“There’s funding for another three months.”

“And after that?”

“I’ll see what I can do. But that’s it for now.. Do you want the job?”

I didn’t, but, as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. And somehow, with the baby due soon, it seemed appropriate that I take part in an effort to help out California’s children and youth. I shrugged and said, “I’ll take it.” So that’s how I joined the Children’s Crusade.

*   *   *

The conference room was jampacked. Who’d have thought there were so many child advocates? Lola Hernandez sat at the head of a long table. She was dressed in black, shiny black blouse, short black skirt and black boots. She was, I guessed, in her thirties, an attractive woman with sumptuous dark hair and riveting dark eyes. I was seated at her right. She’d introduced me as her new assistant, a whiz with numbers and data who’d come to the rescue of her unit. The other two unit members were seated against the wall. One was an attractive Mexican girl, Maria Santana, who couldn’t have been more than 20 and whose main job seemed to be as Lola’s gofer. The other was a tall, emaciated-looking man around 40 who looked like a holdover from the beatnik era. He was supposed to be a writer and spent all day scribbling in his office but I’d never seen anything he’d written. The little unit needed rescuing all right.

The other people seated around the table consisted were a mixture, some scholarly –looking men and women and others who looked as if they’d just come from a protest rally.. Each had held forth on his or her particular area of concern, arguing its importance while disparaging all others.  One speaker presented a “bill of rights” for children. One argued that children should participate in any decisions in programs affecting them. Another wanted the Legislature to establish a “Commission on Children, Youth and Families.”

A large African-American lady pounced on this last idea and said that as black children and youth had the highest rate of teenage pregnancies, health problems, murders and suicides the Commission should have a majority of African-Americans. One of the scholarly-looking men, with glasses and a beard, took exception to this. The African-American lady gave him a hard shove that knocked off his glasses. Lola sprang to her feer, shouting, “Sit down.” The lady shouted, “You can’t shut me up” and came toward Lola, brandishing a large purse. I wondered if Lola would pull out a knife in her defense. Before the large lady could reach her, a couple of State policemen came through the door and grabbed her. The meeting, thankfully, ended soon after. .

*   *   *

The house was a large one, almost a mansion, in one of the Sacramento suburbs, the owner being a large political donor. The people at the party, except for myself, were the politically connected, mostly on the liberal side. I was there because Lola had invited me. “There he is,” she said. She led me through the crowd to a slim, dapper-looking man in his thirties, greeted him with a hug and introduced him to me as Steve Silver.. Steve was blonde with blue eyes, almost movie-star handsome. Lola explained to me that he’d been a legislative aide but had just recently formed his own research agency.

“How’s the children’s thing going, ”Steve asked Lola.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We need to produce a plan and we have less than three months to do it. How would you like your firm to take it on?”

Farm out our work? This was news to me. “I don’t think we could handle it now,” said Steve.

“We really need help,” said Lola, moving closer to Steve She was exerting all of her considerable power of personality on him.. “I think I can swing a $50,000 contract for you.”

$50,000 was a pretty good amount of money in those days. I wondered where it would come from.  Evidently Steve had the same thought because he asked, “Do you think you could get Marcus to okay it?”  Marcus was Marcus Aurelius Gonzalez, the head of the Department of Health.  “No problem,” said Lola.

I wondered about that. Gonzalez wasn’t known for throwing money around

“Let me think about it.” said Steve. “Children’s services are a mess. Maybe we could come up with something.”

“Good. Let’s do lunch tomorrow.”

“All right.”

Lola spotted a legislator over in the corner. “Oh, there’s someone I have to see. One o’clock at the Mandarin Palace?” Then she was off, pushing her way through the crowd like a fullback.

“That Lola’s something,” said Steve.

“Yes, she is.”

Left to ourselves, Steve asked me some questions about our project. Then he asked me if I was from New York.

When I said I was he said, “I thought I detected an accent. I’m from there myself. Where did you go to high school?” We found out we’d gone to high schools that were athletic rivals and that we’d graduated at about the same time. Obviously he’d gone a lot farther than I had. He didn’t mention a wife so I assumed he was a bachelor, something I later found out was true and also that he had a reputation of being a lady’s man. Then, like Lola, he spotted someone he wanted to see and dashed off. I was left to reflect that I hadn’t been invited to their lunch.

*   *   *
 
It was six o’clock on a Thursday night. I was in Marcus Aurelius Gonzales’s sumptuous office in the Department of Health building. DeWitt Bender was seated beside me. Marcus was behind a large desk, scowling at us. We were there because, in his words, he wanted to know what the hell was all this about a $50,000 contract for Steve Collins. I was there because Lola was in Los Angeles for one of her many meetings and her flight back to Sacramento had been delayed. Marcus’s summons had come out of the blue at four in the afternoon. When I’d asked, I’d been told that no, Steve Silver was not to come to the meeting. So Steve was waiting for me to call. A fourth person was there, Karl Gibbs, who, Bender had told, me was the Department’s financial guardian..

“Where’s Lola?” Gonzalez barked.

“In Los Angeles,” I said. :”Her flight was delayed.”

“Who are you?”

I was tempted to say that I was just one of the guys in his department who actually did the work. Instead, I explained I was in Lola’s unit and was acting in her behalf. In the last few weeks I’d met with Steve Silver three or four times, given him a lot of the material we’d gathered and which I’d tried to put in some order and a contract for his firm’s services had been drawn up.

“I hear there are some wild ideas going around, a kids’ bill of rights and that crap.”

“Steve is a level-headed guy.” I didn’t really know this. “He’ll come up with something reasonable.”

“Why do you need some outside firm to do your work?” asked Gonzalez.

DeWitt Bender answered for me. “Uh, I assigned Arnold to Lola’s unit just two months ago. There are only two others in the unit.”

“Two others. Are they any good?”

“They’re useless for any real work,” I said. “There’s no way we can put out anything resembling a plan on our own. If we don’t get outside help we might as well close shop.”

“So why shouldn’t we do that? I don’t want my department to get messed up with any big ideas about a wholesale shake-up. I’ve just about got it running okay now.”

“The Legislature asked for a plan,” said DeWitt Bender. “If we don’t come up with something they’re liable to be unhappy.”

Gonzalez turned to Karl Gibbs. “Do we have the money?”

“We can find it. Another thing, any so-called plan isn’t likely to go anywhere. It’ll keep the liberals happy and off our backs and then everyone will forget about it.”

I gave Gibbs a closer look. That had been pretty much what I thought.

Gonzalez looked at his watch. “All right. Go ahead and do it. I have a dinner to get to.”

So that was how executive decisions were made. I returned to my office and called Steve Silver to give him the news.

“That’s great,” he said. “You pulled it off. I knew a New Yorker would come through. What are you doing now?”

I told him I planned to go home.

“Hell, we have to celebrate. Meet me at the Mandarin Palace in, say, half and hour. Dinner’s on me.” He hung up before I could protest. I called Sally. She said the baby was fine. I told her about the meeting and the dinner. She told me to go ahead and have a night out but I would owe her.

*   *   *

The Mandarin Palace, a downtown restaurant, was the place where politicians, lobbyists and other crooks met to do their business.  Steve was in an exuberant mood. He insisted on drinks before ordering dinner. I was pretty sure he’d already had a few drinks before I came. He wanted a blow-by-blow account of the meeting. “Marcus has never been one of my fans,” he said. “You did a good job.”

“I really didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Don’t underestimate yourself. Let’s order.” A waiter appeared and Steve ordered steaks for the two of us, plus a bottle of wine. He wanted to talk about our high school days and kidded me about his school’s teams always beating mine. He drank almost all of the wine. At the end of the meal, he said, “I have an idea. Let’s visit Tom Hadley. He’ll want to hear about this children’s plan, maybe contribute something to it.”

Tom Hadley had been a student radical at UC Berkeley who’d been elected to the state Senate as part of the liberal wave that had swept over Sacramento. His wife was Jane Starlight, her rather ridiculous professional name, an actress who’d become an ultra-liberal at the end of her career.. “I’d better be getting home,” I said.

:”Just a quick visit. You’ll get to see Jane. She’s still a dish.” I recalled that Jane Starlight had appeared in a couple of films directed by her French husband, the one before Tom Hadley, in which she’d had some nude scenes, scandalous way back then. I also recalled that her last few movies had been duds and she’d faded out of public view before marrying Tom Hadly. Well, it was an opportunity to see a movie star, at any rate a former one, and odds were no one would be home and then Steve could drive me back. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.” .

*   *   *

“Are you all right?”

Steve, in the driver’s seat, mumbled something. I, in the passenger’s seat, said I was okay. I knew Steve was a little drunk after the drinks and wine with our dinner, but I hadn’t realized how much until he’d smashed his car into one of the trees in front of Tom Hadley’s house. Luckily, he’d been driving slowly and, aside from a crumpled front bumper, not much damage had been done. A man and a woman, Hadley and his wife Jane, I assumed, had come running out of the house. So they were home. I got out of the car and we extracted Steve from his seat belt. He could barely stand but the three of us propelled him to the house and onto a sofa in a large living room. True to the adage that drunks are blessed, Steve seemed little the worse from wear. “Hi, Tom,” he said. “Hi, Jane. Had to tell you the good news. We’re going to save California’s children. Hi, ho. Hi, ho.”

I did my best to explain things. Meanwhile, Steve continued to sing, Hi, ho, hi, ho, off to work we go.”

Jane, who’d disappeared, now returned with a cup of coffee for me. Now that I was no longer dazed, I realized that she was indeed a dish. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. The recollection of those nude scenes, which involuntarily flashed through my mind, was embarrassing and I hoped I wasn’t blushing.

“Steve’ll have to stay here,” said Hadley. “We’ll take care of the car business in the morning.”

“If you get me a taxi,” I said.

“No, I can drive you home,” said Jane. I protested but she insisted.  A drive with a movie star. This had started off as a strange night and was getting stranger. But who was I to argue?  Jane Starlight’s car wasn’t a Cadillac or a Mercedes; it was a big pick-up. I got in and gave her directions to my house, which wasn’t too far away. As we drove, she asked about my connection to Steve and I gave her a rundown of the meeting with Marcus Aurelius Gonzales. She then asked me about myself and her interest seemed to pick up when I told her about the new baby. While I talked, I couldn’t help glancing at her profile. She was no longer the young hottie of her first films, but she was still amazingly beautiful. Also, I thought, she didn’t act like a movie star. She seemed like an ordinary person, only much better-looking than most.. When we reached my house I thanked her. Before I got out, I said, “I really liked you last picture; the one where you played a waitress.” Then I leaned over and kissed her. No, that last was a figment of my imagination.

Sally was in the living room when I came in. The house was quiet so the baby was sleeping. “You had a long dinner,” she said.

“It ran a little long. Steve and I got to talking about our old high schools and I guess we lost track of the time.” Somehow, I didn’t want to get into the car accident and my ride home with Jane Starlight. “Anyway, all went well and I’ll have a job for a while longer.”

*   *   *

The plan for children’s services that Steve’s firm produced wasn’t too bad. It discarded most of the far-out proposals we’d gathered and actually presented a few good ideas for better coordination of the many State programs for those under 18. . In the next election, there was a backlash and the conservatives regained control of the Legislature. The children’s plan was forgotten and things went on as before. There was one change. My old statistical unit was resurrected and I was made its head. I suspected that the influence of Steve Silver played a part in this, maybe even with the influence of Tom Hadley and his wife thrown in. And I always had the memory of my brief time with Jane Starlight.