Of steps (and mis-steps) climbing the educational ladder
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About this ebook
Fleeting Moments takes the reader on a journey through the remarkable life and times of Walter Gordon Fischer. These autobiographical stories are told in Gordon's inimitable wry style as he journeys through the world in the search of adventure under the guise of making a living. The stories of his travels are littered with larger than life characters from duchesses to divas, tycoons to tyrants with a backdrop of cocktail parties, revolutions and close shaves.
Gordon was born in New York in 1930. His curiosity about the world and its peoples has led him to 92 different countries at the last count and his appetite for travel is still undiminished. His stories hop from childhood memories to recent events and back again capturing the delightful and the duplicitous, the dangerous and decorous. The length of his life and the extent of his travel have made Gordon's real-life stories amazing and fascinating. His experiences are presented to the reader through self deprecating narrative giving tiny snap-shots of humanity in its many forms. That Gordon speaks seven different languages is a testament to his interest in people and their cultures. He has collected arts and artifacts along the way which colorful, entertaining and amusing much as are his stories.
Gordon Fischer
Gordon was born in New York in 1930. His curiosity about the world and its peoples has led him to 92 different countries at the last count and his appetite for travel is still undiminished. His stories hop from childhood memories to recent events and back again capturing the delightful and the duplicitous, the dangerous and decorous. The length of his life and the extent of his travel have made Gordon's real-life stories amazing and fascinating. His experiences are presented to the reader through self deprecating narrative giving tiny snap-shots of humanity in its many forms. That Gordon speaks seven different languages is a testament to his interest in people and their cultures. He has collected arts and artifacts along the way which are colorful, entertaining and amusing much as are his stories.
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Of steps (and mis-steps) climbing the educational ladder - Gordon Fischer
Of steps (and mis-steps) climbing the educational ladder
Fleeting Moments Book 1
By
Walter Gordon Fischer
Stop-overs at St Paul’s School, Yale, Harvard Business School and at the Johns Hopkins School for International Studies in Bologna, Italy, and Washington, DC (my favourites). Finally, I had even learned how to brush my teeth properly.
Copyright 2011 by Walter Gordon Fischer.
Walter Gordon Fischer has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Table of Contents
How I got off on the wrong foot at haughty, hockey-playing St Paul’s School
Snowflakes and spitballs in an exam room
Fox-trotting with Elizabeth Taylor was less than spellbinding
‘Senator Lehman, you must leave the Bath & Tennis Club’ – Palm Beach’s response to social integration: Jews not allowed!
Coca-Cola heiress Mrs Woodruff foils sleazy Veasey Rainwater IV’s takeover bid
After the taxidermist, a big fish is sent to Yale for a proper education
Looking nine months pregnant didn’t help me to survive at Harvard Business School
My mentor at Yale, Professor Hajo Holborn and his wife were humiliated in Salzkammergut
The Golden Days in Austria
How I got off on the wrong foot at haughty, hockey-playing St Paul’s School
I was 13 years old when my parents sent away to board at St Paul’s School, which is located amidst wooded hills, ponds, streams, and playing fields to the west of New Hampshire’s state capital, Concord. Founded in 1856 as a church school (read: Episcopalian), over the years it has adapted with glacial rapidity to a fast-changing world.
When I studied at St Paul’s (1944 –1948), a stolid atmosphere prevailed that was entrenched in the school’s cloistered tyrannies and traditions. St Paul’s was for Protestant boys. Jews, blacks, Asians and other infidels were excluded, though a token sprinkling of Catholics, like John Kerry, who later became a senator and the Democratic candidate for president, were admitted. The bulk of the one hundred boys who graduated from each form (read: class) entered Ivy League colleges, of which Yale, Harvard and Princeton were the most popular. During my days at St Paul’s, it was known for its hockey playing, for its unbridled snobbery, and for its pervasive use of sarcasm. Recently, St Paul’s was twinned with Eton College, whose English roots go back a few centuries earlier, to 1460.
On my first day at the school, my father and stepmother had dropped me off at my dormitory, and set off in their car for Old Westbury, where we lived on the north shore of Long Island. I felt desperately alone and sorry for myself. I even wanted to cry, but realised that would send the wrong signal to my new form mates. I didn’t want them to regard me as a sissy. One of them, Leighton Coleman, instinctively took a dislike for me. I was big and strong for my age, so he was taking a risk when he taunted me and called me unflattering names. The inevitable happened, almost like the rutting of reindeer. We got into a fistfight and blows were exchanged. Luckily, I managed to throw him to the ground with a thud and to pin him down. After he said that he had enough, he never tried to bully me again. But for me, the outcome was a Pyrrhic victory. I had made an enemy of one of the school’s best athletes. That was not at all