Oral History Office Regional Oral History Office
Forest History Society >ne Bancroft Library
Santa Cruz, California University of California, Berkeley
Emanuel Fritz
Teacher, Editor, and Forestry Consultant
An Interview Conducted by
Elwood R. Maunder
and
Amelia R. Fry
(5) 1972 by The Forest History Society and
the Regents of the University of California
All uses of this manuscript are covered by a legal
agreement between the Directors of the Forest History
Society and the Regents of the University of California
and Emanuel Fritz, dated 16 September 1969. The manu
script 1s thereby made available for research purposes.
All literary rights in the manuscript, including the
right to publish, are reserved to Emanuel Fritz during
his lifetime and to the Forest History Society and the
University of California thereafter. No part of the
manuscript may be quoted for publication without the
written permission of the Executive Director of the
Forest History Society or the Director of The Bancroft
Library of the University of California.
Requests for permission to quote for publication
should be addressed to Forest History Society, P.O. Box
1581, Santa Cruz, California 95060, or the Regional Oral
History Office, 486 Bancroft Library, University of
California, Berkeley, California 97420, and should
include identification of the specific passages to be
quoted, anticipated use of the passages, and identifica
tion of the user. The legal agreement with Emanuel
Fritz requires that he be notified of the request and
allowed thirty days in which to respond.
FOREWORD
This interview is part of a series produced by the
Regional Oral History Office of Bancroft Library, University of
California at Berkeley, under a grant from the Forest History
Society, whose funding was made possible by the Hill Family
Foundation .
Transcripts in the series consist of interviews with:
DeWitt Nelson, retired head of the Department of Natural Resources,
California; William R. Schofield, lobbyist for timber owners, Cal
ifornia Legislature; Rex Black, also lobbyist for timber owners,
California Legislature; Walter F. McCuIloch, retired Dean of the
School of Forestry, Oregon State University, Con/all is, Oregon;
Thornton Munger, retired head of U.S. Forest Service Experiment
Station, Pacific Northwest Region; Leo Isaac, reti red, si I viculture
research in the Forest Service Experiment Station, Pacific North
west Region; and Walter Lund, retired chief, Division of Timber
Management, Pacific Northwest Region of the Forest Service;
Richard Colgan, retired forester for Diamond Match Lumber Company;
Myron Krueger, professor of forestry, emeritus, U.C. Berkeley; and
Woodbridge Metcalf, retired extension forester, U.C. Berkeley.
Copies of the manuscripts are on deposit in the Bancroft Library,
University of California at Los Angeles; and the Forest History
Society, University of California at Santa Cruz.
Interviews done for the Forest History Society under other
auspices include: Emanuel Fritz, professor of forestry, Univer
sity of California, Berkeley, with funding from the California Red
wood Association; and a forest genetics series on the Eddy Tree
Breeding Station with tapes by W.C. Gumming, A.R. Liddicoet, N.T.
Mirov, Mrs. Lloyd Austin, Jack Carpender, and F.I. Righter, cur
rently funded by the Forest History Society Oral History Program.
The Regional Oral History Office was established to tape
record autobiographical interviews with persons prominent in the
history of the West. The Office is under the administrative
supervision of the Director of the Bancroft Library.
Wi I la Klug Baum, Head
Regional Oral History Office
Regional Oral History Office
Room 486 The Bancroft Library
University of California
Berkeley, California
111
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PREFACE by Henry J. Vaux v
INTRODUCTION by Elwood R. Maunder vii
I EARLY LIFE 1
The Fritz Family in Baltimore 1
Baltimore Polytechnic
Cornell University 11
Teaching at Baltimore Polytechnic
Botany in Cornell Summer School 18
II YALE SCHOOL OF FORESTRY 20
Classes, Professors, and Field Work 20
Gifford Pinchot 27
Contrasts in Forestry Education 32
III BEGINNING A FORESTRY CAREER 36
The Context of Government and Industry 36
In the New Hampshire Forestry Department 40
In Montana and Idaho With the U.S. Forest Service 47
Fort Valley Experiment Station, Arizona 59
IV WORLD WAR ONE AIR SERVICE 68
V PINCHOT AND FEDERAL REGULATION 74
VI TEACHING AT UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA IN THE TWENTIES 79
Courses 79
Faculty 90
German vs. American Forestry in Early 1900 s 97
A School of Forestry at Stanford? 103
VII THE REDWOODS 107
Second Growth Investigation 107
Projects With the U.S. Forest Service 117
Industry Cooperation and Forestry Attempts 127
The Union Lumber Company 127
Consulting in the Redwoods 130
The Tree Farm Movement 138
CRA forester for the NIRA Lumber Code (Article X) 141
Logging Conferences 145
VIII SOCIETY OF AMERICAN FORESTERS 151
Role of the Society 151
Journal of Forestry Work 157
The "UnhoTy Twelve Apostles" 173
Reed s Dismissal 189
Protection of Members 202
The Cox Case 202
The Black Case 208
iv
H.H. Chapman 221
IX THE DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR 234
S.A.F. Revolt: Chapman vs. Interior Foresters 236
Pinchot s Tour in the West During the Transfer Controversy 238
X THE CALIFORNIA FOREST PRACTICE ACT 242
Legislation Attempts for Acquisition of Cutover Lands 242
Consultant to the Legislative Forestry Study Committee
(The Biggar Committee) 250
The Legislation 257
The Douglas Fir Region 265
The Redwood Region 270
XI THE FOREST PRODUCTS LABORATORY 274
XII FOUNDATION FOR AMERICAN RESOURCE MANAGEMENT (FARM) 281
XIII GENERAL COMMENTS 291
APPENDICES 299
INDEX 318
PREFACE
If one were to characterize in one word tne personality and impact of
Emanuel Fritz whether as professional forester or as teacher no doubt
the word should be independence. Fritz s career included work in a wide
variety of professional contexts: in forestry education at the University
of California; in government programs in the Forest Service and Department
of the Interior; in organized industry with the California Redwood
Association; in the organized profession as editor of the Journal of
Forestry; and in a considerable array of private relationships as a highly
respected consultant. But within each and every one of these varied
contexts, Fritz was always Fritz.
I knew him first as one of his students. It was in the mid-1950s
when forestry seemed, in the eyes of most, to have become largely a
government enterprise and when industrial forestry seemed impotent, if not
actually dead. But Fritz confidently offered his students a different
view, a vision of commercial forestry on a sound financial base imbued
with the vitality inherent in an important sector of modern industry.
This was truly only a vision in the 1930s, but it was due in no small
measure to men like Fritz, and the students intrigued by his ideas, that
the vision of the Thirties became the reality of the Sixties.
Fritz has never been reluctant to speak his views plainly, even
bluntly. He has no hesitation in challenging the "conventional wisdom"
and does so in any gathering where he can arouse interest in forestry.
As a result, to many within the profession he has often appeared as a
dissenter. But these same qualities have given him the interested atten
tion of people outside of forestry. Not only did this earn him the
cognomen of "Mr. Redwood" among many Ca I ifornians, but, more importantly,
it introduced basic ideas of forest management among many land owners and
public officials who simply were not hearing the forestry message being
preached in other quarters. Foresters have often been self-critical of
their tendency to talk only to themselves. Fritz has been a model
exception to this generalization. Hence, his influence on forestry develop
ment in California has been profound. His work with redwood forest
landowners led to many constructive improvements in the management of large
redwood landhol dings. As a member of the California Forestry Study
Committee, he influenced strongly and constructively the landmark forestry
legislation adopted by the state at the end of World War II. And in later
years he was among the first voices to point to needed revision and
strengthening of several features of the state s forestry policies.
Fritz s strong and independent voice lent balance to discussion of
many forestry issues. Many students learned from him the importance of
considering all sides of controversial policies. His practical approach to
forestry, reinforced by a lifetime of astute observation in the woods, has
helped innumerable people to think of forestry as a practice rather than
as a theory. His unbounded interest and enthusiasm for redwood have been
transmitted to a host of his listeners both within and outside the
forestry profession.
V?
Fritz s profound Influence on forestry in California and elsewhere has
recently been recognized with the award to him of the Gifford Pinchot Medal,
This may have surprised Fritz, whose evenhanded criticism has at times
fallen even on the "Father of the Profession," Gifford Pinchot. But to
those who have seen Fritz s own contributions at close range, the award
was fitting recognition to an outstanding figure in the profession.
Henry S. Vaux
Professor of Forestry
4 July 1972
217 Mulford Hall
University of California, Berkeley
VI
INTRODUCTION
In the developing history of forestry in America certain men and women
emerge as major figures in the arena of conservation and forest policy.
Emanuel Fritz of Berkeley, California, is one of these. Professor Fritz
has long been a familiar figure in forestry affairs. Widely known as
Mr. Redwood, he wears this appellation with considerable discomfort.
"It is a questionable moniker to hang on anyone," he scoffs. "Whenever
I hear it, it makes me feel as if I am being identified as some kind of
character and without realization that my life as been spent in work on
many species besides Sequo i a semperv i rens . "
But to a considerable company of foresters who have studied under the
strong-minded professor of lumbering and forest products at the world-
renowned School of Forestry and Conservation on the University of
California s Berkeley campus, Fritz is Mr. Redwood, and their number is
considerably bolstered by a large contingent of laymen whose concern for
the forests of America has brought them into frequent touch with the
feisty professor in public meetings or through his extensive writings.
Emanuel Fritz was born October 29, 1886, in Baltimore, Maryland, to
German immigrant parents, John George* Fritz and Rosa Barbara Trautwein
Fritz. The family enjoyed the fruits of a prosperous new business and
gave major consideration to the education of Its offspring. Young
Emanuel grew up speaking German, learning English from his friends in the
streets of Baltimore. He was sent to school at the Polytechnic Institute
of Baltimore along with his younger brother, Theodore. Another younger
brother, Gustave, attended the City College. Both brothers are deceased.
The Fritz family was devoutly religious in the evangelical tradition
of the Lutheran faith. Daily Bible reading was part of family life.
Young Emanuel s early interest in nature derived, perhaps, from his
father s active attention to birds, animals, and plants. When city
neighbors objected to a swarm of bees brought home in a gunnysack from the
country, the elder Fritz packed up his family and moved to a suburb.
After graduation from the Polytechnic Institute, Emanuel went to
Cornell University following a major interest in engineering. Fritz took
a generous variety of nonengineering courses through his years at
Cornell, economics, corporate finance, contracts, and music. He sang
regularly in the Cornell Chapel Choir, and, as he likes to recall,
"received credit for it." In retrospect he now regrets not having
pursued a degree in the arts as well as the mechanical engineering degree
that he earned. Athletic skill was demonstrated by rowing stroke on the
Engineering College crew. In intermural competition he came to know Fritz
Fernow, stroke of the Arts Col lege crew. Fernow was the youngest son^ of
the first professional forester in America, Bernhard Eduard Fernow.
Fritz turned to forestry some years after teaching a stint at his old
alma mater, Baltimore Polytechnic Institute. He went to Yale University s
highly-touted School of Forestry and in 1914 was awarded the master s
V I I I
degree in Forestry. Franklin Hough s Trees of North America sparked an
interest in wood technology that led him into a life-long study of uses
of the redwoods and other western species.
In 1914 he resumed a summer job he had previously landed as a student
at Yale, working for the New Hampshire State Department of Forestry. The
following year he joined the growing ranks of the United States Forest
Service. This Involved him from 1915 to 1917, first, in fire suppression
and prevention work and, secondly, in si I vicultural research. His exper
ience with the Service ended with America s entry into World War I.
Immediately after the war, Fritz moved into the ranks of academic
forestry. From 1919 to 1954 he rose from Assistant Professor to full
Professor in forestry at the University of California. During these
years he taught wood technology and timber utilization. He emphasized
with his students that forestry must be brought out into the woods.
In line with this philosophy, from 1934 on, he served as consultant
forester to the lumber industry, particularly in pine and redwood. Among
his numerous positions and honors can be listed that of wood technologist
for the California Pine Association and the West Coast Lumbermen s
Association; forestry advisor and V ice-President of the Foundation of
American Resource Management; Editor-in-Chief of the Journal of Forestry;
and Founder and Secretary of the Redwood Region Logging Conference.
Fritz was not one to ignore the role of federal and state government.
Though advocating minimum public regulation of private forestry, he
served, from 1938 to 1940, as consultant to the United States Department
of the Interior and, from 1943 to 1945, as forestry consultant to the
California Legislative Interim Committee.
His work thrust him into contact with a bustling lumber industry
which was already showing signs of the sickness that was to provoke the
critical analyses of William B. Greeley, David T. Mason, and, later,
Wilson Compton. Fritz felt a sympathy for loggers and lumbermen and
defended them against critics both within his profession and in the
muckraker press. It was this attitude, maintained throughout a long
career, which has brought upon his head the frequent accusation that he
is a stalking-horse of industrial interests. The bitter battle over
management of the nation s forest resources in this century, continuing
with heightened fury today, creates fertile ground for such accusations.
Historians of the future will appraise Fritz s role from the careful
examination of his personal papers, preserved in the University of
California s Bancroft Library, as well as his voluminous published
record of American forestry.
That Fritz took up the cudgels frequently in the great battles of
recent forest history, often opposing one of his leading mentors at Yale,
H.H. Chapman, is a part of this work which will draw special attention
from scholars. Whatever future analyses of Fritz may produce, it is
*ln the course of these interviews with Emanuel Fritz the Forest
History Society also obtained funding from the California Redwood Associa
tion for the inventorying and indexing of the Fritz papers in The Bancroft
Library. This was done by Marion Stuart of the Forestry Library, University
of California, Berkeley.
ix
without doubt that he made a clear and unequivocal impact upon the record
of American forestry.
The Fritz interviews were made over a period of nine years. I
made the f 1 rst, interview .in San Francisco. on January 2, 1958. This
was followed by another Interview of mine made in Berkeley on November 5,
1958. Mrs. Fry conducted separate interviews on November 12, 1965, and
August 28, 1967, in Berkeley. Working from rough drafts of these initial
interviews, Mrs. Fry and I made further interviews with Professor Fritz
in Berkeley on February 27, 1967, and on March I, 2, 3, and 4, 1967. The
volume is composed of major portions of all the various interviews.
This volume of oral history interviews with Professor Fritz is one
of a series of works focusing upon Western American forest history and
made possible by grants from the Louis W. and Maud Hill Family Foundation
and the Weyerhaeuser Family Foundation. The Hill and Weyerhaeuser grants
were made to the Forest History Society during the 1960s to permit the
making of selected in-depth interviews with westerners who had been
either major participants in or keen observers of developing patterns of
western forest land use.
A considerable list of desirable interviews was compiled with the
aid and assistance of colleagues in the major western universities and
colleges with which the Forest History Society has enjoyed a symbiotic
relationship for nearly two decades. Interviews were planned with a final
high-priority list. Preparatory research for the interviews included
searching published sources as well as examining available documentary
materials relating to the men and women to be interviewed. To conserve
funds, interviews were planned to take advantage of the attendance of
respondents at regional or national meetings held on the West Coast.*
Experts in the oral history method in western universities were employed
to assist in the program, particularly from the Regional Oral History
Office of the Bancroft Library at the University of California in Berkeley.**
Professor William H. Hutchinson of the History Department at Chico State
University was also recruited to make interviews which explored the folk
lore of the western woodlands.***
*George L. Drake, tape-recorded interview in 1967, and David T. Mason,
tape-recorded interview in 1965, 1966 and 1967, by Elwood R. Maunder,
Forest History Society, Santa Cruz, California. In process.
**Among these interviews were, C. Raymond Clar, tape-recorded interview
in 1966 by Amelia R. Fry, in process; Leo A. Isaac, "Douglas Fir Research
in the Pacific Northwest, 1920-1956," typed transcript of tape-recorded
interview by Amelia R. Fry, 1967; Woodbridge Metcalf, "Extension Forester,
1926-1956," typed transcript of tape-recorded interview by Evelyn Bonnie
Fairburn, 1969, University of Ca I iforni a Bancroft Library Regional Oral
History Office, Berkeley.
: ***W.B. Laughead, typed transcript of tape-recorded interview by William
H. Hutchinson, Forest History Society, Santa Cruz, California. 1957.
As the principal investigator I was privileged to make approximately
half of the interviews. Amelia Roberts Fry of the Regional Oral History
Office, Berkeley, is co-author of this work and the author of other
interviews In this series. Wi I la K. Baum, Director of the Regional Oral
History Office of Berkeley, assisted In directing the processing of
Interviews. The preparatory research on the large Fritz connection, which
1s a comprehensive documentary resource for all areas of his professional
life, was done by Amelia Fry; my Yale University colleagues Joseph A. Miller,
Judith C. Rudnicki, and Margaret G. -Davidson did much of the research from
related deposits in the Forest History Society and the Yale Historical Manu
scripts Collection. Susan R. Schrepfer and Barbara D. Holman did the final
editing of the manuscript, created its index, and saw the volume through
the last steps of publication.
Acknowledgment of advice of many others who aided in the arrangements
for interviews would require several pages to record here. Of particular
noteworthy assistance were Carwin Wool ley, Executive Vice-President of the
Pacific Logging Congress; Bernard L. Orel I and Irving Luiten of the
Weyerhaeuser Company; Dave James of Simpson Timber Company; Foresters
Thornton T. Munger, David T. Mason, Henry J. Vaux, Henry E. Clepper,
Frank H. Kaufert, George A. Garratt, and Paul M. Dunn. Hardin C. Glascock
of the Western Forestry and Conservation Association, now Executive Vice-
President of the Society of American Foresters, was a most helpful
consultant and critic.
Special appreciation is expressed for the encouragement and patience
of the sponsors, in particular A. A. Heckman and John D. Taylor of the Hill
Family Foundation, Frank B. Rarig and Frederick K. Weyerhaeuser of the
Weyerhaeuser Family Foundation, and Philip Farnsworth and Kramer Adams of
the California Redwood Association.
Oral history is a new and demanding discipline. The great volume of
work involved in designing, planning, and carrying out the processing of
all the many interviews was done without intrusion of any kind upon the
team of scholars who labored so long and hard upon it. Many of the men and
women who were interviewed have since died. That their vivid memories of
the history of western forestry and conservation have been preserved in the
interviews of this series is a tribute to all who have been associated
with the project.
It is our hope that more interviews in this series may be published
and that excerpts from other unpublished interviews can be submitted as
articles to scholarly and popular journals. Funds are now being sought
fror the National Endowment for the Humanities and other sources cf
philanthropy to assist us toward these goals. A significant number of
articles from oral interviews have already been published in Forest History
and American Forests.
The potential of oral history has only begun to be realized. Much
progress has been made since Professor A I Ian Nevins began to develop the
method at Columbia University in 1950. It is a matter of pride to the
Forest History Society that its first exploration of the method was made
only two years later, the result of conversations I had with Professor
xi
Nevins. Today the ranks of oral historians are growing at a rate that
amazes even those optimistic advocates who championed the method in the
face of considerable criticism during the early fifties. The Oral
History Association now stands on sturdy feet, counts numerous members
on its rolls, and gains prestige with the counting number of fine books
and articles published. The Forest History Society is proud to add this
volume to the library of American oral history.
Copies of this manuscript, either in manuscript or microfiche form,
can be purchased from the Forest History Society.
Elwood R. Maunder, Interviewer
Executive Director
Forest History Society
30 November 1972
Forest History Society
733 River Street
Santa Cruz, California
xi i
LI wood l\. Mjuridor was cjrodudtotJ from I ho llnl ver^i ly of Minno-joKi
in 1939 wi rh a B.A. in journalism. He was a reporter and editor of Hie
Minnesota Dai I y and an officer of his class. From 1939 to December, 1941,
he was a reporter and feature writer for the Minneapolis Ti mes-Tri bune and
the Minneapolis Star-Journa I . He enlisted in the U.S. Coast Guard
December 21, 1941, and served as a combat correspondent in both the
European and Mediterranean theaters of war on landing craft for infantry
and combat transports. He was editor of the Ninth Naval District s
magazine, Sound! nqs, at the conclusion of the war. He was graduated from
Washington University at St. Louis in 1947 with an M. A. in history. He
attended the London School of Economics and Political Science for one
year and worked as a freelance foreign correspondent and British Gallup
Pollster. He was a member of the staff of the U.S. Department of State
during the Meeting of Foreign Ministers in London in 1947 and 1948.
Returning to the United States he was named director of Public Relations
for the Board of Missions of the Methodist Church, later director of
public relations for the Ohio area of the Methodist Church. In 1952 he
was appointed executive director of the Forest History Society. He is
the author of many articles, has produced more than one hundred oral
history interviews, and edited with Margaret G. Davidson A Hi story of
the Forest Products Industries: Proceedings of the First National
Col loqu i urn, sponsored by the Forest History Society and the Business
History Group of the Harvard Graduate School of Business Administration.
He is the publisher and long-time editor of Forest History, quarterly
journal of the Forest History Society. He is an Honorary Member of the
Society of American Foresters and a Fellow of the Forest History Society.
XI I I
Amelia R. Fry was graduated from the University of Oklahoma In
1947 with a B.A. in psychology. She wrote for the campus magazine. She
received her Master of Arts in educational psychology from the University
of Illinois in 1952, with heavy minors in English for both degrees. She
taught freshman English at the University of Illinois from 1947 to 1948
and at Hiram College in Ohio from 1954 to 1955. Mrs. Fry also taught
English as a foreign language in Chicago from 1950 to 1953. She writes
feature articles for various newspapers and was reporter for a suburban
daily from 1966 to 1967 and writes professional articles for journals and
historical magazines. She joined the staff of Regional Oral History Office,
University of California, Berkeley, in 1959, first specializing in the
field of conservation and forest history, then public administration and
politics. She is currently director of the Earl Warren Oral History
Project at the university and secretary of the Oral History Association.
This photograph was taken on the occasion of the
presentation of the Emanuel Fritz papers to the
Bancroft Library. From left to right, Elwood R.
Maunder, Donald Coney, former University of
California, Berkeley, Librarian, and Professor
Fritz.
S.F. CHRONICLE
Thursday, December 15, 1988
OBITUARIES
UC Forestry Expert
Emmanuel Fritz
Emmanuel Fritz, a forestry ex
pert nicknamed "Mr. Redwood"
and the oldest faculty member at
the University of California at
Berkeley, died last Thursday in his
Berkeley home at the age of 102.
Mr. Fritz was involved in nearly
every aspect of the redwood indus
try and was considered a forestry
and conservation authority for 70
years.
He advised elected and appoint
ed officials on the need to balance
demands for lumber in a rapidly
growing state with the need to pre
serve old-growth groves, replant
logged areas and set aside areas for
protection.
"He encouraged reforestation
and cooperation between the log
ging industry and conservation
groups," said John DeWitt, execu
tive director of the Save the Red
woods League, of which Mr. Fritz
was a longtime member.
Mr. Fritz wrote a pamphlet in
1932 entitled "The Story Told by the
Fallen Redwood" which is still dis
tributed by the Save The Redwoods
League to schools across the coun
try. DeWitt said.
Millions of people who do not
recognize Mr. Fritz s name probably
remember reading the book at
some point during their childhood,
DeWitt said. The book describes 1
how tree rings, fire scars and other
markings can provide a detailed
chronology of an ancient redwood s
history.
When Mr. Fritz turned 102, he
earned the distinction of becoming
the oldest faculty member in UC
Berkeley history. Cal s previously
oldest professor, chemist Joel Hiide-
brand, was 101 when he died in 1963.
Mr. Fritz helped create Califor
nia s State Forest program and ad-
vised Governor Earl Warren on for
est and logging matters. And he was
the founder of the Redwood Region
^Logging Conference, which honor
ed him on its 50th anniversary earli
er this year for his prominence and
his influence on forestry practices.
His personal papers are at UC
Berkeley s Bancroft Library, noted
for its collection documenting the
"history of the Western United
"States.
Mr. Fritz was a member of the
Commonwealth Club and of the Bo
hemian Club. At the Bohemian Club
he established a museum to depict
the life, history and ecology of the
trees on the club grounds along the
Russian River.
Mr. Fritz was born in Baltimore
] on Oct. 29, 1886. He received a bach
elor s degree fromjCorneU in 1908
" and a master s from Yale in 1914.
He was a forester for the New
npshire State Forestry Depart-
ment before moving West to work
for the VS. Forest Service and serv
ing as an Air Service captain in
! World War I.
Mr. Fritz joined UC Berkeley s
Division of Forestry in 1919 and re
tired in 1954, retaining the title pro-
f essor emeritus.
fc. He is survived by two daugh-
; ters, Barbara Fritz of Berkeley and
. Roberta Fair of Eugene, Ore. At his
request, no services were planned.
Donations ire preferred to
Save the Redwoods League, Alta
.Bates Hospice, S232 Claremont Ave-
, nue, Oakland, 94618 or to the Soci-
Ly of American Foresters building
Jund, 5400 Grosvenor Lane, Bethes-
JOa,Md., 20814-2188.
I EARLY LIFE
The Fritz Fami ly in Baltimore
Maunder: Emanuel, can you start out by telling us something about your
family origins and where you were born and something perhaps of
your early childhood?
Fritz: I was born in Baltimore, Maryland, October 29, 1886. My father
was born in Ebersberg, Wurttemberg, on February 14, 1855. My
mother was born in Stuttgart, Wurttemberg, on February 2, 1856.
Father was nearly eighty-three when he passed away and mother was
just past eighty-two.
Father was a tailor, learning the trade in Switzerland to which he
went before he was twenty. He came to the United States in about
1880. Mother came to the United States about the same time and they
were married in Baltimore on April 15, 1884.
When they came to this country, they went to night school at once
to learn the language, and in my father s case, he also learned
bookkeeping so that he could set up his own business. While he
finished his apprenticeship In Switzerland, where he spent most of
his youth although born in Germany, he decided that the thing to
do in the United States was to have his own business. He set up
one shortly after he was married and the business prospered. The
only tough times we knew as boys were those of the 1892-1893 period
in the very severe depression of those years. My parents often
spoke of those days, but they pulled themselves out of the slump
without help, as did the rest of the country.
Maunder: Your father s name was what?
Fritz: John George Fritz. And my mother s maiden name was Rosa Barbara
Trautwein. Her parents and ancestors were all soldiers. My father s
were soldiers and farmers. My father was exempted from military
service because of a bad leg.
Maunder: What brought him to this country? Was it the economic opportunity?
Fritz: Well, in those days of course many young men in Europe felt that the
streets of the United States were paved with gold, and they thought
they d come over here and pick up some of it. My father often told
me that in this country one is compensated in accordance with how
hard he works and what he knows, while in Europe, one s station in
life, as to birth, pretty much determined how far you could get.
Maunder: When did he come to this country?
Aunt Carrie Trautwein Muth with Emanuel Fritz, ca. 1890
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
It must have been about 1880. I was born in 1886, October 29th.
Mother and father, as I said, met in this country and they were
both nearly thirty when they married.
Was there any particular reason for their settling in Baltimore?
No, unless it was the church. My father was a very devout church
man. He joined the church while he was a young man in Switzerland.
He was somewhat of an orator at least he liked to speak before
groups and I have an idea the church gave him an opportunity to
express himself.
This was one of the evangelical churches?
That s right, a Lutheran offshoot.
Which one?
It was called merely the Evangelical Church. That s my recollec
tion. 1 should remember it more clearly but frankly we boys (three
of us in the fami ly and I was the oldest) had to go to church and
Sunday school so much in the course of a week that we, you might
say, got a little too much of it. There was a lot of dogma and
fear of the hereafter. But my father insisted on it and as long
as he was the boss, we went.
Has that persisted through your life?
churchman as a result of this?
Have you not been an active
I really did enjoy going to church while in college, both at Cornell
and at Yale. Attendance was purely voluntary. They had invited
preachers, a different one nearly every Sunday, and they were really
great men and good speakers. They spoke with good sense and I en
joyed attending those sermons, but since then I haven t been very
active in any church. As youngsters, we would occasionally go to
a synagogue or a Catholic church to see what it was like.
Was this a German community that you lived in as a boy in Baltimore?
In part. It was changing. Baltimore had a large number of Germans
and Irish. Italians, largely from Naples and Sicily, were beginning
to arrive in large numbers.
The Germans had Turnvereins (gymnasium clubs). I belonged to one.
And they had a lot of societies and singing groups (Saenger verein).
They would go during the summer to their Schuetzenpark for their
Schuetzenfest, as they called it. "Schuetz," of course, would be
a guard.
I don t know what the origin of those organizations was and why
they were set up but as a result of the First World War and the
strong feeling against the Germans, all those organizations came
to a quick end. It was rather unfortunate because they were very
Fritz:
M.-iunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
good social organizations and very loyal to America. The Germans
we came In contact with were mostly from south Germany, kind, fun-
loving, religious and not militaristic as were the Prussians. They
became citizens as soon as they could and prized their new status.
Did you grow up speaking both t ruiIKh ,in<1 Herman?
I spoke German until I was eight, and when I was about eight, 1
picked up English on the street and to some extent in school.
I wonder if you could tell us a little bit about your family life
and your growing up as a young man in the eastern United States.
What do you recall most about your boyhood?
Well, it was a very happy boyhood. Our parents took a great deal
of interest in us and gave us every opportunity. Of course, trans
portation in those days wasn t what it is today. We had to ride
streetcars or we walked or rode our bicycles.
Even though we lived right in the city I had to walk to school as
far as Abraham Lincoln was reported to have walked and mine was
always on hard city streets but no mud. The Polytechnic Institute
was about two miles from home but we enjoyed walking. When 1 say
"we," I mean my younger brother Theodore and I. There were a lot
of Interesting windows en route, especially Schwartz s Toy Store,
which was always fascinating.
Where did your middle brother gc to school?
He went to the Polytechnic as I did, but did not finish. Theodore
thought it was very foolish to stay in school so long when you
could go out and make money right away, so he quit the Polytechnic
early and entered business college. He was one of the first to
operate what is today a "stenotype" machine.
As soon as he graduated from this business college I think it was
Strayer s he got excellent jobs and he worked himself up very
rapidly in business. His principal employer at the time, as I
recall, was Armour and Company. Later he had a large steel dis
tributing business, everything from chain link fencing to tool
steels.
Maunder: But your younger brother went along with you through the Polytechnic?
Fritz: That was Theodore. The other brother, Gustave, was four years
younger and went to the City College. Baltimore in those days had
no high schools for boys under that name. It had only the Baltimore
Polytechnic Institute and they had the Baltimore City College, both
for boys only.
My youngest brother Gus had decided to become a doctor so that meant
that he would go to the City College where he would be prepared to
enter either Hopkins or the University of Maryland. He chose the
Fritz: University of Maryland and developed an excellent medical practice.
Both brothers are deceased, Gus at fifty, Ted at sixty-eight. Both
were hard workers.
Maunder: Your parents were in a position to give you all the very best of
education as you were growing up?
Fritz: Yes, they insisted upon it. They were not always in comfortable
circumstances but they generally had enough. They were very frugal
and they made a dollar go a long way. They taught us the same
principle. They encouraged us to do some work on the outside with
the result that when 1 went to college 1 financed my first two
years myself and made nearly enough money in the summertime and
at odd times to help me through the third year, although my father
and mother contributed a considerable share.
They were very independent people, especially my mother. They
felt that one appreciated more what he had to work for. Mother
was very practical. Father, on the other hand, was pretty much
of an ideal ist.
My father was a diligent student of the Bible and he read very
widely on biological subjects, medical and zoological. Living
in the city, we had little opportunity to have any biological
interests except that father raised Newfoundland dogs and fancy
pigeons for show purposes and others for racing. Since the birds
didn t need the floor of the cage, I was permitted to have some
guinea pigs and a squirrel, but that was the extent of that. How
ever, we bicycled often to the country and particularly to the fine
Druid Hill Park to see something green.
Even though the back yard was small, as in all those city houses,
we built some boxes on the porch in which we had flowers and vines.
My father s interest in birds and animals and plants, which he
couldn t really develop in the city, led him finally to quit the
city and move to the country. He had been on a Sunday walk in the
country with my mother, beyond the end of the car line. He found
a swarm of bees and he told mother that swarm was going to belong
to him. So he went to a nearby farm house for a gunny sack, slipped
the sack over the swarm and took it home. Although it meant being
absent from church that Sunday night, he stayed home and made him
self a beehive out of, I believe, a cracker box, and the next morn
ing we were amateur apiarists.
Those bees were very active and had to forage pretty far and wide
in the city to get what they needed. Some of the neighbors com
plained, so my father said, "If the neighbors don t like my bees,
I m going to move where nobody can be bothered by them." So he
bought himself a little place of about seven acres about a mile
from the end of the Belair Road car line at a place called Kenwood
Park. There was a newly completed house on the property which was
up for sale because the owner had lost his wife. It was a large
Fritz: house, very well built, and the grounds gave father a chance to
have not only bees and pigeons but chickens and everything else.
As a result of that Interest, a few years later 1 built him an
aviary about twenty by twenty, in which he raised pheasants of
five or six different kinds.
The chicken house, as I remember it, was pretty much like a modern
four-room house. On the second floor he had pigeons and on the
first floor there were chickensfancy chickens, by the way. Mother,
being rather practical, couldn t see the sense being generally badly
bent financiallyof raising show birds, so she insisted on birds
that would lay eggs and cause no tears if they were laid on a block
and decapitated. So she had her own flock of Plymouth Rocks and
Leghorns for eggs and the big Orpingtons for meat, so we were on a
chicken diet at least once a week and we had more eggs than we
knew what to do with.
An interesting sidelight on that was this: they moved to the
country while 1 was a junior at Cornell but I didn t spend the
following summer with them. That summer I spent in Steelton,
Pennsylvania, working for the Pennsylvania Steel Company.
After college graduation, I became a teacher at the Baltimore Poly
technic Institute. (This is jumping ahead a little, on this chicken
business.) Our chickens were doing so well laying eggs that we
thought it deserved some attention as a business. It happened
that in the summer of 1910, I think it was, 1 worked as a drafts
man for the Cambria Steel Company in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. Two
other draftsmen also liked the outdoors so we three used to take
walks Saturday afternoons and all day Sundays in the woods and
talked over our future as young fellows will.
I noticed that one of them could identify grasses. He apparently
was a farm-bred boy and could distinguish one grass from another
merely by the fruit. I thought that was very interesting. The
other one knew some trees while 1 didn t know any of those things.
We decided it would be interesting to have a little hobby, or a
little sideline, so two of us enrol led in Pennsylvania State Col
lege extension courses, correspondence courses in fact.
I recall my first course was the propagation of plants in which we
learned how plants live and grow and how they are propagated. That
opened an entirely new world to me and it came to be very fascinat
ing. I couldn t wait for the next exercise to come in the ma i I .
Then I took courses in poultry husbandry and in fertilizers and
so on, but the poultry husbandry course was the one I look back
upon with real amusement.
The courses told us that chickens will lay well if treated well,
what chickens needed in the way of treatment was this and that.
So when 1 got back to Maryland for the winter term of teaching I
decided to put some of these principles into operation. First of
all, I learned that our chicken house, which was a pretty fancy
Fritz: affair, faced the wrong way, according to the book. It should have
faced south whereas it faced west to the residence. 1 turned the
house ninety degrees with the help of some of my husky cousins one
Easter Monday. I had everything ready: the new foundation had
been poured earlier and the hor^e had been raised up on skids,
properly greased. So when the youngsters were asked to heave and
they did heave, the house spun right around ninety degrees. Then
it was easy to lower it on the new foundation blocks. That was
possibly my first use of my engineering training by actually build
ing something.
Well, we put in all the appurtenances required by the book and as
a result the chickens laid at a great rate, and we had eggs coming
out of our ears we didn t know what to do with them. It happened
that one of our neighbors, who were all farmers, thought it rather
amusing for city people to come to the country and even attempt
to run a little kitchen garden and to have some chickens, but he
asked all kinds of questions as to why our chickens laid eggs and
his did not. So we told him that as long as he hadn t eggs to
supply his trade, we d sell him our excess.
My brother Theodore and I got excited over that and we thought that
if we could raise eggs by that simple procedure it ought to be a
good business to get into. Being a businessman working for Armour
and Company, he went to the hotels in Baltimore and at each one
was told that if he could guarantee a certain number of dozen eggs
every morning he could have all of their business.
He came home all steamed up and soon we had it all planned out as
to where the new chicken houses were to be, and even had a delivery
truck all picked out. It would have been one of the first motor
trucks in that locality. Things were going very well and we were
on the verge of going into the chicken business when Armour and
Company transferred him to Cuba.
That settled that venture, and I m very glad it did because a man
who raises chickens is really a slave to them. He has to be there
morning and night. In fact, it was a good thing because I was
weakening on engineering anyway.
The experience of being out in the country and having so much free
time all of Saturday and Sunday and all the vacation days were
spent out there was a real education. Father had some excellent
men working for him; one was an avid reader of every document that
was ever published by the U. S. Department of Agriculture up to
that time. It was from him that I learned the difference between
hay and straw and what humus is, and so on. He was a very well-
read man although he had no formal education. I learned later
that he worked for us in the off-season only, because his major
interest was following the races; and he was with us only waiting
for the Piml ico race track season to open. I learned a great deal
from him and also from the other men and I got interested in grow
ing things.
Fritz: My father, of course, was always playing with his bees and birds
and animals. We had to have a horse to drive us to the streetcar
line a mile away, and we thought we ought to have a cow to have
fresh milk, although it probably would have been a great deal
cheaper to buy It from the locr i farmers. He also experimented
with grafting and I used to watch him, and as the thing went along,
after a few years I got to feeling that engineering was not nearly
as exciting as the biological fields like growing things and watch
ing bees at work and so on. Incidentally, father had an "observation
hive" from which one could take off a cover and see what went on in
side. I recommend it to others. It s an eye-opener.
As a result of this experience in the country,
engineering eventually and study forestry. I l
little separate story of that because that goes
farther. Do you have a question at this point?
decided to quit
have to make a
back a I i ttle
Baltimore Polytechnic
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Can you tel I us of the progress
entered forestry school?
of your education up unti I you
The early years of education I spent in a Lutheran parochial school
where the language was practically all German for the first two
years; and then shortly after that I went to the F. Knapp s Institute
Baltimore which was also a private school but run by an American-
in
born man of German descent,
father before the Civil War
a school that had been
in the same buildings.
started by his
I recall there was quite a wing at the back of the school in which
the slaves had been kept before the war. This wing had the same
number of floors on the same levels as the floors in the main build
ing and each floor had its own slave. It was a very thorough school.
They taught pretty much with the stick. The teachers were first-
class people, men and women. They knew how to teach and they made
us feel that we wanted to learn.
Incidentally, this was the same school that H. L. Mencken attended.
Later on, I attended another school which was also Mencken s school.
nstitute. That school, by the way.
the Baltimore Polytechnic
in his
set up
would work out. Baltimore was always, as I remember it
mental area for schooling, possibly brought about by the presence
of Johns Hopkins University in the same city.
was
time known as the Baltimore Manual Training School. It was
as an experimental school to see how vocational training
an experi-
You got a stern type of discipline and education in this school?
There was discipline from morning until you were released in the
afternoon. There was no monkey business about giving one extra
hours to study. We were expected to study at home. There was no
Fritz: choice of courses; all were prescribed, and if your grade average
wasn t up to a certain point you were canned. This had the pre
dictable results.
From Knapp s Institute I went to the Polytechnic, entering the
sixth grade and staying seven years. "Poly" was being elevated
from a purely vocational school with three lower grades, sixth,
seventh and eighth, and three high school grades. The grammar
school grades were to be phased out and the three high school
years were to be raised to four. It developed into a very highly
rated school, really a secondary engineering school from which
its graduates could enter Lehigh or Cornell as sophomores. Some
of the engineering textbooks were the same used at the U. S. Naval
Academy. There were no biological courses whatever. Dr. J. B.
Conant, who made a study of secondary schools in the I940 s, con
sidered It a top school.
I was graduated twice, first at the end of three years and then
again at the end of four years in 1905. The school was always
headed by a retired naval officer who insisted on good discipline.
The curriculum was all prescribed; there was no choice.
The school was really remarkable and I m happy to say that the
man who followed the last naval officer was a close friend of mine
and a near classmate. He retires, I believe, this month, in Janu
ary of 1958. He s a Cornell graduate, as I am, and he maintained
the same policy that was carried on by Lieutenant William R. King,
who was principal for about twenty years.
Incidentally, going to a school like that makes one think back as
to who had the greatest influence on him in later life, and It s
pretty hard to say which one of the teachers had the greatest in
fluence on me. There were all men no women teachers and no girls
in the school. It was quite different than it would have been in
an ordinary high school. All those men were primarily teachers.
They loved teaching; they loved being among the boys; they loved
talking with the boys in off hours; and they insisted on fairness,
scholarship and good behavior. The only thing that they were weak
on, as I think back, was penmanship. They never made us learn to
write a really legible hand as the kids were taught in those days
in the parochial schools. 1 wasn t in the parochial school long
enough to really learn to write a good hand.
Maunder: By parochial school, what do you mean? Is this one that was carried
on by your father s church?
Fritz: It wasn t my father s church; it was a Lutheran church in our neigh
borhood. Our own church did not have a school. I call it a paro
chial school, although it was Lutheran. Generally the parochial
schools are looked upon as Catholic schools but that is not neces-
sari ly true.
Fritz: The principal of the Polytechnic was a most understanding man. He
was not only firm but he was also fair and he knew his stuff. He
had an idea that the time for a boy to learn was when he was very
young, so, this being a polytechnic institute, he was naturally
charged with the duty of turning OUT men who would go into the en
gineering or manufacturing fields.
The school was strong on mechanical and electrical subjects, of
course, but at the expense of such subjects or fields as history,
literature and English. What history and English and literature
we had was excellent, but I wish there had been a great deal more.
The men we had for teachers were wonderful and I can sti I I remem
ber to this day much of the poetry that we had to learn by heart.
In fact, these men imbued us in the short time that we were with
them with an interest in English and literature and history, and
in my own case it has never left me.
The school was possibly a little more advanced than it should have
been for boys of our age. We had to take mathematics every day
the entire time we were in the school for me, it was seven years.
We started out with arithmetic and we wound up with ten units of
calculus, both integral and differential, after ten units of ana
lytical geometry. In both cases, it was twice as much as was
required to enter Cornell University s engineering department.
I recall the instructor in calculus, a man more than six feet high,
well built, a former oarsman, but not a college graduate. His name
was Uhrbrock. (I think only one teacher in that school at that
time was a college graduate.) He got us so excited about calculus
that most of us ended the course with an average of more than
ninety percent, and I recall in my case, prior to the examination,
I worked out each problem in the book just for the fun of it, not
necessarily for the examination. That helped a great deal when we
went to college. Some of the boys went to Lehigh and once in a
while one went to M.I.T. Having a good grounding in mathematics,
our courses at Cornel I were much easier.
I might say also that the steam engineering we got at the Poly
technic Institute and the course in mechanics were in many respects
superior to that which we got at Cornell. Cornell permitted us to
enter as sophomores but refused to give us credit for the mechanics
course because they thought that was so important they wanted to
be sure we got mechanics the way they wanted it taught. But as a
result of having to take mechanics all over again, five units a
week for an entire year, every boy who came from our Polytechnic
to enter Cornell finished the mechanics course with a grade of
ninety percent or more. I think I got ninety-six or ninety-seven,
and one of my classmates got ninety-eight or ninety-nine. We were
always the top in the class, not because we were any better but be
cause we were merely repeating the course.
That was one of the most interesting courses I ever took. The book
10
Fritz: was written by Irving P. Church. I remember him very well. He
was a typical teacher type and all tied up with his mechanics. If
he were alive today, he would probably be working out some of the
mechanics involved in space vehicles. He was a very short man; he
could write with both hands. In one hand he would have a piece of
white chalk and in the other a piece of colored chalk. He d draw
his diagrams and present the problem and then show how it would be
worked out. By the time he got through, his black swallow-tailed
coat was pretty well covered with chalk dust. He was a great
teacher.
The steam engineering we didn t have to take until we were juniors
at Cornell, and that course was so simple, and merely a lecture
course, that I would take along my other courses for study because,
although the man giving the lectures the dean of the College of
Engineering, "Uncle Pete," as we called him, Professor A. W. Smith
knew his stuff, but we Polytechnic graduates were way ahead of him.
The Polytechnic principals had all come from Annapolis and were in
the Navy s engineering department before their retirement. I must
admit though that at the Polytechnic, my brother and I were team
mates in some of the difficulties we got into.
Maunder: You make it sound as if you were a real juvenile delinquent.
Fritz: Oh no. Nothing like that. [Laughter] Not with the kind of parents
I had. As I said earlier, the teachers we had were excellent, but
we did have one or two that were rather weak and couldn t handle
the classes, and of course the students took charge. Word would
get to the principal once in a while that the classes were running
away with the teachers and that the Fritz brothers were leaders.
They were innocent pranks, but when you get into difficulty once,
then you re accjsed of every other prank that is committed. For
example, I was accused once of having stolen a skeleton from one
of the laboratories, putting a rope around it and hanging it in
the flies of the theater stage, and of being about to lower it on
the stage during commencement of the class before mine, to excite
the audience; but the janitor found the skeleton in time and cut it
down. Well, I suppose they still think, if they re still living,
that I swiped that skeleton. I knew nothing about it until after
the ceremony.
Maunder: That skeleton really doesn t belong in your closet, is that right?
[Laughter]
Fritz: Nope, not that one.
II
Cornel 1 Un i versify
M.iunder: You attended Cornell how many years, Fmanuel?
Fritz: Three years. I could have gotten my mechanical engineering degree
in two years by attending one summer session, but I preferred to
stay a year longer because in those days there was a nation-wide
feeling that engineers were not being educated, just like today
we talk about the lacks of engineering education. Feeling that I
could benefit by more liberal education, I took the extra time
that I had available at Cornell to take courses in economics, cor
poration finance, contracts, and so forth. I even took music. I
sang in the Sage Chapel choir and received credit for it. I also
enjoyed some of the sermons at the chapel .
Maunder: Do you remember some of those men, who they were?
Fritz: The man I think who had the most impact on me was old Dr. Lyman
Abbott. He was the editor and publisher of the old Outlook maga
zine. He had a very, very long beard and I understand that he had
never shaved. He not only preached in the beautiful and inspiring
Sage Chapel but he also held informal gatherings Sunday night which
I enjoyed attending. He also preached in Woolsey Chapel at Yale,
and I never missed qoinq to hear him.
3 3
Dr. Henry Van Dyke also appealed strongly to me. I believe E. E.
Hale also preached there. He was a venerable man at the time. A
rabbi preached once and made an excellent impression. These men
all showed great learning and good philosophy. I don t recall
that a Catholic priest ever appeared, and that was a loss. I sang
in the choir at Cornell. It added much to the pleasure of attend-
i ng chapel .
I must add that my father retired from business rather early, got
even more active in the church, and became a pinch-hitter for
preachers (in the Methodist church this time) who were either ill
or on vacation. Father enjoyed substituting for them and he could
preach in English as well as in German one of the old-fashioned
hell-fire and brimstone sermons.
I had almost enough credits for an A.B.
got the M.E., but engineers looked down
it wasn t practical. As I look back on
degree at the same time I
on the A.B. degree because
it now, I feel that I should
have taken less engineering and more of the letters and science
courses. An odd thing about that whole educational program was
that I had not one single unit of any biological subject, and later
on when I decided to enter forestry school, I was afraid I wouldn t
be able to handle it because all my previous training had been in
the physical sciences. Going later into forestry, a biological field
with strange scientific terms and names but that s another story.
12
Maunder: It s interesting that you should say you feel
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
education
Would you
training and
in the fields of
say that this is
why?
that you lacked
the humanities.
social science and
a very important part of an engineer s
I think an engineer should have a better general education because
he deals not only with machines and bridges but also with people.
For example, when a bridge is first proposed, you might go to an
engineer and ask him if it s feasible. The engineer might say,
after some computation, "Yes, it is feasible from an engineering
standpoint, but is it feasible from an economic standpoint? Will
the bridge be used enough to pay it off? Should beauty of design
be considered?"
So many engineers don t have an understanding of economics even
to this day, or of dealing with people, so that they are looked
upon as being merely slide rule operators and designers or opera
tors of engineering plants. I found in my own case that the art
of speaking English and writing It and conversing with others is
possibly even more valuable or more important than knowing a lot
of formulae.
This seems now to be borne out in what top management in industry
is doing in some of its recruitment of new leadership. They re
quire not only people who are well trained in a specialized field,
but they want people of rather broad education.
Yes. I think that business in the past fifteen years has been so
extraordinarily good that many men reached the top in industry,
engineering, banking and business because they couldn t help it.
The market came to their doors. But now that there s a little
recession, I
Ions because
think you ll see heavy mortality among the top eche-
of poor background.
Yes. I was going to ask what was the real beginning of your in
terest in forestry and how do you trace that development in your
life?
Fritz: I ve often thought about that and wondered about it, but I think
I can pinpoint it fairly clearly. My mother s father had been a
soldier all his life, and when he was retired to the Civil Service,
as often happened in Germany, he was made what in this country
would be called a ranger in the Wurttemberg Forest Service. The
King owned the forests. Grandfather was probably in charge of a
smal I district.
Now it would appear that having a grandfather and also an uncle
who were in the Forestry Service in Germany, that would have been
an influence, but it had none whatever. In fact, it rarely oc
curred to me that grandfather was a forester at one time.
The real start, I think, came while I was a junior in engineering
13
Fritz: at Cornell. I had made a Sunday trip, or a hike, with some of my
classmates, although they were civil engineers while I was a me
chanical engineer. On this walk (and of course, the country around
Cornell campus was wooded and beautiful) they got to arguing about
the identification of certain trees. I couldn t contribute any
thing because a tree was just a tree to me. They were arguing as
to whether a certain tree was a hemlock or a spruce. To me they
were both evergreens and looked pretty much alike. But the fact
that there was some point of difference made an impression and I
looked up some Information on trees in the library.
Now at this time also that was 1906, 1907 it was the era of
preachment by Gifford Pinchot and Theodore Roosevelt in behalf of
conservation, and the two men were in the newspapers a great deal.
T. R. , of course, had the big platform. Pinchot fed him the ma
terial although he himself was an excellent speaker and an excel
lent writer. I read everything that the newspapers published about
these two men and also read some of their articles.
It happens that at that time I was enrolled in a public speaking
course, and one week we were asked to prepare a speech, to be
given the week following. We were permitted to copy a speech
from someone else or write our own. So I thought it would be a
good idea to make a speech on conservation. I took some of Pin-
chot s stuff and some of Fernow s, and some of Roosevelt s and
some of the others, and fitted them together and had my own speech.
I still have that speech at home, written in lead pencil on yellow
paper. I must look it up and preserve It.
One question, Emanuel . Was all of this reading and acquaintance
with the controversy over conservation derived from reading what
we might call the popular press, the newspapers and popular maga
zines, or did you delve into the more specialized periodical
1 iterature?
Yes, it was, most of it, general stuff for popular consumption, and
as I look back on it, it was a strong pitch to get the public inter
ested in conservation. There was very little specialized material
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder;
Fritz:
available. But I did get
My copy carries the date
copy of Fi I ibert Roth
1895.
a copy of Pinchot s Primer of Forestry.
got itJanuary 20, 1907.
s Bulletin Number Ten, on wood,
I a I so got a
pub I i shed i n
How about the American Forestry magazine?
Well, at that time it was published in a different form, and I saw
very little of it. But in the engineering magazines that I read,
there were occasional articles on wood and the likelihood of a
timber famine. Of course, that would be of interest to an engi
neer because wood in those days was an important engineering mate
rial.
14
Fritz: Well, the reading and contact with the wonderful outdoors at Cor
nell, which was quite a thing for a boy coming from a large city,
I think was what sparked an interest in my surroundings the trees,
plants, geology, and so on. Pinchot, being a forester, spoke and
wrote mostly on forestry.
While I was at Cornell, I learned that it had had a forestry school
but that it had been closed a year or two before I entered. I made
some inquiries about it and learned about its fate. Incidentally,
one of my classmates, who was majoring in Liberal Arts, was the
youngest son of Dr. Bernhard E. Fernow. The son was named Fritz,
his first name. It happened later in my senior year, he was the
stroke of the Arts College crew and I was the stroke and captain
of the engineers crew. Although the engineers had the best crew,
of course, we had a little hard luck with our number two man catch
ing a "crab," and then another one, and letting the Arts College
crew get ahead of us and beat us; but it was nice to be beaten by
a fel low I i ke Fernow.
Come to think of it, Fernow may not have been the stroke; it might
have been LeRoy Goodrich who later became an attorney and is still
living in Oakland, California. Rowing was my principal interest in
athletics in college except for some cross-country running, but
rowing better fitted my physical dimensions which weren t too ample
anyway. I got off the track somewhere, didn t I?
Maunder: Were you ever influenced at this time directly by anyone in for
estry? Were there any holdovers there at the university from the
School of Forestry who influenced you in any way?
Fritz: Not that I know of. I had no contact with them whatever. Of course,
the Engineering College was at one end of the campus and the Agri
culture College was at the other, and engineers in those days looked
upon the agricultural students as "hayseeds" and didn t mix very
much. We rather looked down upon them; and furthermore, the Agri
culture College was a state-supported college while Sib ley College
at Cornell was private, and as youngsters we probably considered
ourselves a little superior.
I remember one day at the boarding house I was not a fraternity
man one of the waiters, who was a short-course student in agri
culture during the winter, was asked by one of the boys at the
table, "Are you going to the fencing match tonight?" And he
replied, "Fencing match tonight? We do our fencing in the spring."
So that, 1 think, shows the gap between the agriculture students
and the engineering students in those days.
No, no individual had anything to do with it at Cornell, only the
reading; and if any individuals had an influence I would say they
were Gifford Pinchot and Theodore Roosevelt, but only in a vicar
ious way and because of their writing.
15
Fritz: 1 might add that in 191 I while I was back on the Cornell campus
for summer school to study botany, I met the dean of the Col lege
of Engineering. He remembered me and asked what 1 was doing. I
told him I was going to study orestry and lumbering, and he said,
"Why do that? There s no future in it. Wood Is an obsolete mate
rial, not only because It Is belnq cut too fast but also because
metals will supersede It."
In other words, lumbering was a dying industry and therefore for
estry would have no future. That was Dean Dexter S. Kimball, a
fine man, and a classmate of Herbert Hoover. He was reared in the
Seattle area and he apparently had no use for the lumber industry
because of its destructive nature in those days. But like most
people at that time, he saw only the destruction rather than the
reasons for it, nor did he do anything to find an explanation of
the situation. Pinchot was in the same category.
At Cornell, I had a lot of spare time because, although engineer
ing was a pretty tough course, my advance credits gave me consider
able leeway. So I spent a great deal of time in reading magazines
and books. You may remember possibly the old World s Work maga
zine and the old Munsey s and the old magazine that carried the
articles by the woman who castigated Standard Oil. What was her
name?
Maunder: I know who you mean Ida M. Tarbell.
Fritz: They were classed as "muckrakers." They saw only the dark side
of the cloud. My favorite magazines were Iron Trade Review,
Atlantic Month I y , Outlook and Literary Digest.
Actually my interest in forestry didn t develop and didn t really
come to a head until I had graduated and moved back to Maryland
with my folks in Kenwood Park outside of Baltimore, and I was ex
posed to the outdoors more than I ever before had been. While
there, I had a chance to do a lot of building. The house had not
been finished when we bought it. Only the six rooms on the first
floor were finished. The second floor was a huge open area and
there was an attic above that, or could have been, so I laid out
the six rooms for upstairs and had a carpenter put up the studs
and so on. I helped him.
We had only kerosene lamps, so we had power brought a mile from
the main line to our house, and I wired the entire twelve rooms
with concealed wiring. This was quite a job in a house that s
already partly completed. I put in a pressure water system, a
sewer system, and built a driveway with concrete curbing, and
stuff of that kind.
All the time I was interested in what the men were doing in the
garden, and once in a while I d help them and when they d help me
we d talk about plants. So being in a locality where there was
16
Fritz: considerable farming and plenty of opportunity to hike, I got in
terested in knowing one tree from another and also one flower from
another. I bought myself a copy of Franklin Hough s Trees of North
America. It pictured and described not only the tree but a Tib its
wood. this was a lucky selection. I still have the book. It was
an excellent job and just a few years ago I recommended to Double-
day that they get the plates and republish it, only to find out
that another publisher was on the way to doing it.
From this book I learned the trees on our own place. We had about
three acres of woodland, mostly oaks, and then the neighbors lots
had many other species. There must have been twenty species of
trees in that locality and I identified them all from that book,
or I thought I did.
I also collected wood specimens from some of these trees, and when
I entered forestry school several years later, I had a good collec
tion of wood samples. That is, the samples were good, but many
labels proved later to be incorrect. I had those samples until
the year I was retired from the University of California, when I
gave them to one of my students after I corrected the labels!
It was a lot of fun collecting wood and finding out some of the
differences. Of course, while I was at the Polytechnic as a stu
dent I got an excellent training in wood working as well as metal
working. So wood collecting became somewhat of a hobby, and it
stHI is. When I returned as a teacher in engineering, I used
the school s excellent facilities for preparing specimens.
As I look back on it, I can understand why laymen know so little
about wood. I knew nothing about wood. Wood was something that
was easy to saw and easy to plane and easy to nail and put to
gether. We could tell walnut from oak and soft pine from hard
pine, but beyond that we knew nothing. I sympathize today with
people when they can t identify woods because their eyes have just
not been opened up to its distinguishing characteristics. As I
said, that Hough book was the starting point of my interest in
wood technology as well as an interest in the identification of
trees.
So, in answer to your question, you might say my interest in for
estry began while an engineering student at Cornell, and that my
interest in wood began while a student and teacher at the c oJy-
technic in Baltimore. The interest was whetted by my parents hav
ing moved to the country. When my brother Ted was transferred to
Cuba and thus scotched our joint poultry idea, I started thinking
of forestry. Perhaps the crusading spirit of the times also had
an effect. Like many young men, I had more than a little of it.
Perhaps too, 1 inherited some of my father s idealism but my
mother s practicality probably helped toward a sounder balance.
Years later that spirit received some hard jolts when I noticed
that crusaders for conservation were, like some religionists,
Fritz: not without a selfish interest and hypocrisy.
It seemed such a natural thing in those days for a man to go Into
conservation work because it was certainly a good movement. Just
the definition of the word wise uso would get a young man inter
ested, especially one who had some altruism and also a desire to
get into some kind of public service.
Teach i ng at Ba I timore Polytechnic
Fritz: I might say that I would never have been a teacher in the engineer
ing department if it hadn t been for the depression of the years
1907 and 08. I was headed for the Pennsylvania Steel Company at
Steel ton, Pennsylvania, now a subsidiary of Bethlehem, in the chief
engineer s department. I worked there the summer of 1907. Appar
ently he liked my work because he invited me to come back, and told
me he had a very fine job for me, and asked me to write to him.
I did write to him in February of 1908 but industries at that time
were laying off men rather than employing them. Although this was
a large company, they laid off hundreds, but I had a very wonderful
letter from Mr. Hawkins, the chief engineer Elmer Hawkins, I think
his name was who said he regretted very much that conditions were
such that he couldn t give me the Job he had promised me. So I was
out on my ear and I had to look for something else.
So I took a job with the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad as a special
apprentice, a two-year apprentice class. In order to get into that
class one had to have a mechanical engineer s degree or a civil
engineer s degree. I worked in the Mont Clare shops helping take
down and reassemble a locomotive.
Just prior to that, the Polytechnic Institute principal, Lieutenant
King, asked me i f I would consider going to the Polytechnic as a
teacher. Naturally I jumped at the chance because the B & em
ployed us for not much more than twenty-five hours a week, and at
fourteen cents an hour, I was hardly making much more than carfare
and certainly not board and room. Possibly the time I had off in
the teaching years gave me a chance for more reading and more think
ing than I would have had if I had gone into an eight, nine or ten-
hour day job. Otherwise, I might have remained in engineering.
I taught at the Polytechnic Institute for four years after my gradu
ation from Cornell. During the week I had a room at the YMCA with
my brother Ted and on Friday afternoon I would go home and spend
Saturday and Sunday. A I I the vacation days were spent out there
except the long summer vacation.
The more my interest was excited in plants, the more books I got
hold of and read on the subject. We also subscribed to a beautiful
Fritz: magazine called Country Life in Ame r i ca . It was a very fancy maga
zine about the format of Fortune today. From the reading of course
we learned more and more or I did; I was the only one interested.
My youngest brother was living t home while he was a student in
medical school, so we talked about biological things once in a
wh i le.
Botany j_n_ Cornel I Summer School
Fritz: Anyway, I kept on reading about forestry and began to ask my uncle,
my mother s brother, about what forestry was like in Germany; and
mother told me something of her father s life in the woods and the
activities. Then I made inquiries about forestry schools. I
learned that Cornell was going to have one again, Yale had one,
Michigan, and there was one at Biltmore.
I also learned, to my dismay, from the literature they sent me
that in order to enter, one must have botany. Well, I had no botany
nor any other biology except what I had read on my own, so I thought
if I have to have botany to enter, then I d better study it in sum
mer school .
So In the summer of 1911, I went to Cornell summer school to study
it. That was a very happy experience. We had excellent profes
sors. One was W. W. Rowlee; another was Harry P. Brown who later
became professor of wood technology at Syracuse and was a close
friend until he died. The third was Dr. Anderson who gave physi
ology; Brown taught morphology and Rowlee gave trees and other sub
jects. Anyway, they were excellent teachers and my classmates were
in part students who needed some extra credits or some makeup work,
and a very large number of them were school teachers.
I say it was happy because of the close relationship between stu
dents and faculty and also the thrill I got out of studying botany.
I discovered that the Latin and Greek names were not so difficult
and also that botanical science followed natural rules like physical
sciences and wasn t so difficult, but if anything is interesting,
it simplifies itself from the start.
We made a number of field trips in addition to having the labora
tory sessions, and at the close of that six weeks concentrated
botanical course, I determined in another year to enter forestry
school; so I returned to the Polytechnic for my fourth year of
teaching and gave notice that next spring I would quit. In
cidentally, the classic names helped improve my interest in Eng
lish, so much of which stems from Latin and Greek.
In the same year, in Baltimore, I enrolled in an afternoon course
in botany given by a Baltimore City College teacher. The inside
lab work and the field trips were very helpful in spite of the
19
Fritz: distraction of the women, mostly natural science teachers, I be
ing the only male!
Maunder: You were teaching at the same Polytechnic Institute from which
you had been graduated?
Fritz: The same school. The principal was the same principal when I was
a student at the Polytechnic. He knew that I had a great respect
for him, and he liked my family and even though I was the usual
hell-raising kid, he forgave a lot of that. He bailed me out a
number of times when I got into trouble, thinking that maybe I d
settle down after I graduated from college and got a real job.
In the teaching I had mostly shop work, the machine shop and the
pattern shop, and believe it or not, I also had a class in black-
smithing which was very, very interesting. Blacksmith ing in those
days was a part of engineering. A man had to know how to make a
weld that would stick and would be as strong as the component pieces,
A blacksmith in those days was called upon for a lot of work that a
machinist couldn t do on his machines. Of course, it was also a
good experience to know what the metals were capable of doing, es
pecially In heat treatment.
Gradually I was given more and more responsibility, and when I de
cided to quit teaching, I was told by the principal that he re
gretted it because he had me lined up to head the engineering de
partment in the year that was to follow. I had previously turned
down a chance to go to Purdue as instructor in engineering and
get a master s degree in engineering at the same time, but that
came when I was weakening on engineering, and I decided that I d
better stay where I was and make up my mind about what I wanted
to do.
It s a pretty good example about how a lot of boys go to college
not knowing exactly what they want. In my case all my background
had been engineering, seven years of it in the Polytechnic, so it
seemed only natural to elect engineering in college. But it turned
out to be the wrong thing for a time, as you ll learn when you
query me about what I taught at the University of California.
20
I I YALE FORESTRY SCHOOL
Classes, Professors, and Field Work
Fritz: I had learned, as I said before, that Cornell was going to reopen
its forestry school after a lapse of some years, and it had already
appointed a dean; so while I was on the campus in 1911 for the sum
mer school, I went up to the College of Agriculture and called on
this dean, or the man who was to be dean. It turned out to be Wal
ter Mulford. I told him if there was to be a forestry school there,
I d like to be considered for entrance because Cornell was my under
graduate university and I d like to go there; but I was treated so
coldly and Mulford had his watch in front of him and kept touching
it every few moments, indicating that I was a very unwelcome in
truder, so I quickly grabbed my straw hat and walked out.
(As a strange coincidence, Mulford was the head of the Forestry
School when I came to the University of California to teach, and
he was my boss for about thirty-two of the thirty-five years I was
on the faculty. So I was right back in engineering because ! was
to teach sawmi I I ing and wood products. )
Then I decided to enter the Yale Forestry School. It was a toss-up
between Michigan and Biltmore and Yale, but I decided as long as I
had to pay my own way, I might as well go first class and so I
selected the Yale Forestry School. Biltmore closed the year fol
lowing so it was fortunate I didn t enter there. Perhaps I should
have gone to Michigan because the Michigan professors, at least
some of them, were more practical than the ones at Yale.
Maunder: Who was at Michigan at that time?
Fritz: Filibert Roth, a German forester, was the dean.
Maunder: Then you went to Yale in 1911, is that right?
Fritz: Nineteen-twel ve, the following year. The course at Yale at that
time was wholly prescribed. There were no electives. The course
began in June, or was it July, on the estate of Gifford Pinchot
near Mi I ford, Pennsylvania. He called his place "Grey T cwe -s."
We were in the summer school there in tents for twelve weeks.
It was a wonderful locality, very similar to the one in Ithaca,
and had the same land formations and the same origin apparently
a number of deep gorges in slate and shale, beautiful waterfalls
and very interesting woods, mostly hardwood. The school in earlier
years had done some planting so there were some plantations avail
able for study.
21
Fritz: That summer of twelve weeks on the Plnchot estate was a clincher,
and I was more determined than ever to complete forestry. It
wasn t so difficult after all, learning the botanical names, bio
logical terms and so on. But I was disappointed over some parts
of It. For example, we had a course called mensuration, that is,
tree measurements, and they used some statistical methods which
were very, very crude, and they applied statistical analysis to an
object which seemed to me was not too well suited to statistical
analysis because it was so extremely variable. I still feel that
way about it today. Some bad crimes have been committed in publi
cations by applying statistics blindly without a good enough know
ledge of tree physiology.
The teachers in the summer session were Ralph C. Haw ley and Sam Record,
Sam J. Record was pretty much of a humorist and made a game out of
identifying the trees. Hawley was a serious fellow, a very practi
cal, no-nonsense man. In my opinion he was the best, as to real
istic forestry, of the entire faculty, as I met them later on in
New Haven. He knew his stuff and he knew the limitations of the
knowledge of the day. He had an objective in management. He had
actual trees and forests to manage whereas the others were more
academic.
This was a few years after Henry Solon Graves had left to become,
in 1910, Chief of the U. S. Forest Service. Pinchot, as you will
recall, was thrown out by President Taft. We forestry students,
of course, were being inoculated with the philosophy of the day
that Pinchot was a sort of messiah in forestry and that everything
he did was correct, so we swallowed it all. Later I had to change
my mind about some of it. As I look back, I think Pinchot deserved
being discharged from his Chief Forestership. He was certainly
insubordinate and 1 believe also he got to the point where he had
about run his course anyway.
Pinchot did a magnificent job in the basic legislation and in or
ganizing the U. S. Forest Service. It was organized on the basis
of railroad organization with departments and branches and a chain
of command and so on, but the odd thing was that nobody in the
Forest Service knew much about the subject. They were mostly fel
lows with the same education I was getting and without very much
experience. Pinchot, of course, had gone to a forestry school in
France Nancy. Henry S. Graves, who followed him as Forest Service
Chief and the first Dean of the Yale Forestry School, was also
a graduate of a forestry school this time, in Germany. Although
they both wrote books, they were pretty much on the German pattern.
I must say this: Pinchot s principal contribution to forestry un
derstanding was, in my opinion, his Primer of Forestry, which came
out in two volumes in hard covers. In those days one could get
Department of Agriculture publications free. I got the Pinchot
Primer of Forestry while I was still at Cornell, in 1907. I still
have these books and the date is still in them. At the same time
22
Fritz: I got a copy of old Bureau of Forestry Bulletin 10, of 1895. The
title was Timber by Flllbert Roth. That was an exciting thing;
that was more nearly In my field. That was wood, an engineering
and building material, and I leaned some basic facts about wood
from It to help me in my collection of wood samples.
I stl I I look upon the Primer of_ Forestry as the best book for an
American forester to read first". It has all the framework of for
estry within a very few pages, and excellent illustrations. Much
of the material, of course, is based upon European experience and
practice. The books on silviculture of today can t teach a man
any more than those two volumes of Pinchot s.
The silviculture books of today are written too much from the of
fice desk and chair by men who have had very little experience in
the woods. They jump in and out of the woods from the highway,
pick up a few scattered thoughts and come back and put them into
print. The only way to learn silviculture, I believe, is to get
the basic facts out of a book like Pinchot s, and then spend a lot
of time deep in the woods really observing and trying to interpret
what he sees at least, try to piece together the story as the
forest develops.
Well, Henry S. Graves was the Chief Forester in my student days,
and the Dean of the Forestry School at Yale was James W. Tourney.
Professor Tourney was a delightful and gentlemanly person. He was
a botanist, very heavily interested in trees, and he had had some
experience, I believe, in the old Bureau of Forestry trying to set
up some nurseries. Tourney was, in my opinion, a good teacher.
Some of my classmates didn t think so. Though he read the same
lecture notes every year, he had an inflection and he expressed
himself in such a clear manner that It was a pleasure to hear him
speak. He made dendrology a very intriguing subject.
At Yale we had a lot of field work, an excellent idea for any for
estry school. We were out once or twice a week with Jim Tourney
and once or twice a week with Ralph Haw ley. These field trips were
eye-openers. They began to make the whole story of the forests un
fold. Knowing something about trees made ordinary hikes for pleas
ure much more entertaining and satisfying.
Some of the geology and soils lore that the professors spoke about
in teaching us about silviculture rubbed off on me and added to the
value of the field trips. (I had never had a course in geology.)
It happened also that one of my classmates, Temple Tweedy, had been
a major in geology as a Yale undergraduate. His father was in the
U. S. Coast and Geological Survey. He and I used to take hikes on
which he would tell me a good deal about land forms and the glaciated
country in the New England states. I recall one time he pointed out
some scratches which he claimed were made by the glaciers on some of
the rocks around New Haven. Then on East Rock, on another hike, he
pointed out the pentagonal, or was it hexagonal, pattern of lava
23
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder ;
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
"crystals." I d never seen them before. In fact, rocks were just
rocks to me before that and soil was just dirt. One learns as much
from his fellow students as he does from his professor, especially
In graduate school where the sti dents come from a number of other
universities and from many different major subjects. That was cer
tainly true at the Yale Forest School.
Who were some of the other professors at Yale?
Jim Tourney gave the course in dendrology and silviculture, that is,
the lectures on silviculture. I think it was called "Si Ivies" the
first semester. H. H. Chapman gave forest management, as it was
called, and he gave another course too. I think it was forest
economics. Then Sam Record gave the course on wood, its properties
and uses, its anatomy and so on.
Ralph C. Bryant taught us logging and lumbering. He was a most
likable man. I learned early that he was the first forestry gradu
ate of an American forestry school Cornell. Cornell, of course,
had the first forestry school and he was the first one to graduate.
Being four years or more older than most of my classmates, Bryant
and I became very close friends. I was also very close to Sam Re
cord and when he wrote his book on the mechanical properties of
wood, I helped him on it and got credit for it in the preface. Of
course, that was very simple because I had had so much of that kind
of material at the Polytechnic and also at Cornell.
What else can you do to
school and its faculty?
fill us in on the history of this important
Of the men I have mentioned, I would say that Haw ley and Bryant
had the most practical approach to forestry. They believed that
forestry had to pay before it would ever be practiced. Thev were
also decidedly not socialistic in their viewpoints. In fact, I
don t think any of those five men (Hawley, Bryant, Record, Chap
man and Tourney) had a socialistic viewpoint.
On the other hand, Chapman, for one, was very anti-industry; and
in his lectures, which were extremely involved and very difficult
to follow, he would frequently resort to castigating certain in
dividuals in the lumber industry, and not only in that industry but
in forestry itself. He would even lay out Gifford Pinchot for some
things that he did. In fact, we got the impression that no one was
right but Chapman.
To what do you attribute this quality?
I would say that he was just naturally a pugnacious person and he
comes apparently from a line of square-jawed people. I understand
that his grandfather, Haupt, for whom he was named, was a general.
I think he was the Quartermaster General of the Union armies in the
War Between the States. I believe that in the past few years Her
man Chapman has been writing a sort of a biography on the old
24
Fritz: gentleman. He probably was a good Quartermaster General. I under
stand from those who heard more about the biography locally that
Herman Chapman himself felt that the old man was a little too
h igh-handed.
Maunder: Well, Chapman has had a rather influential part or role in Ameri
can forestry circles over the years, hasn t he?
Fritz: He had a very great influence. He gave the impression of sincerity,
and I believe the man really believed what he said, but he was very,
very suspicious. He was very much like Theodore Roosevelt. He
was easily led into quarrels by some who had ulterior motives and
used Chapman as their hatchet man. He loved a fight.
Maunder: Did you ever go on any of the field trips in the South with H. H.
Chapman?
Fritz: Yes. As I said before, Yale had a great deal of field work, and
that was in my opinion the lifesaver. If they had taught forestry
only from lectures and from books, it wouldn t have been worth a
damn. You must remember that most of the students were reared in
an urban environment. The field work is what made it a training.
In the field, a man could see for himself and draw his own conclu
sions.
Maunder:
Fritz:
We started with twelve weeks on the Pinchot estate in New Haven.
We had field trips several times during the week, and then at the
end of the first year it was a two-year course we spent two weeks
in the Adirondacks with Ralph Hawley at Ne-ha-sa-nee Park. It was
a private estate, a wild, beautiful area.
Most of us took jobs in the woods during the summer of 1913. The
second year, the senior year, closed a few weeks after Christmas
and we were all ordered to the South for three months. Chapman was
in charge and handled the forest management instruction while
Bryant handled the work in logging and milling.
My class had its field work on the property of the Great Southern
Lumber Company in Mississippi, a few miles from Columbia in Marion
County. That was on the Pearl River, all virgin long-leaf pine
timber except for some second growth which occupied farm lands
abandoned after the Civi I War. Two weeks of those three months
were spent in Bogalusa, Louisiana, at the company s great sawmill.
What would you have to say about the pioneering that some southern
companies were doing in conserving the natural resources?
Not so much conserving, but everywhere the doors were open to the
professors, especially Bryant who was teaching lumbering. They were
open to Chapman also. Chapman claims to have initiated the idea of
burning longleaf pine lands to aid the seedlings overcome a needle
disease.
25
Fritz: Anyway, these lumber people felt that if there was anything in
forestry they d better find out what it is, and they gave the school
permission to hold its senior field work on their property. Both
Chapman and Bryant did consulting work for several companies.
For example, I recall we had to do not only forestry work but also
logging work. We were ordered by Ralph C. Bryant to make a study
of log lengths. Logs in those days were mostly sixteen feet long.
With a tape, we measured each log to the nearest inch, p I us a trim
ming allowance. Then we made a report on how the log lengths varied
and what effect this had on the financial status of the company.
(Of course, if a log was one inch too short then the log really was
two feet less and would have to be knocked down from a sixteen to a
fourteen-foot log because the lumber lengths were all in increments
of equal two-foot lengths, but if the log was an inch over, it didn t
make so much difference, although that inch might have made it pos
sible to add two feet to the top log, depending on imperfections.)
Well, we made a report and that report found its way through Pro
fessor Bryant to the office of the manager of the company in Boga-
lusa, Mr. Sullivan, quite a character and a big man in that region.
Apparently, we hit the Jackpot. He had us in his office one day
the class was small, only about twenty, and we went down there in
halves, so my half of ten students was in the office and Mr. Sul
livan said, "Well, boys, I m glad this season is coming to an end.
You ve been an awful lot of trouble to us. You ve been in the way
of my logging crews, you ve been riding our log trains against our
safety rules, and I ve seen some of you ride the tongs at the load
ing machines, and we ve spent a lot of money building a camp for
you," and he went on in that vein for a little while.
We were getting a little nervous and we thought, well, maybe we
weren t so welcome after all, when very suddenly he changed his
attitude entirely and developed a broad smile and grin, and he said,
"But boys, I want you to know we ve made money on you. Do you re
member that report that you wrote about the log lengths? Well, I
didn t know that that was going on in the woods. My foreman didn t
tell me about it so I had it checked by one of my own engineers,
and sure enough, the log lengths were not as correct as they should
have been.
"So all the expense that you boys have put us to has been more than
compensated for by the saving we have made in watching our log
lengths a little more closely. I want you to know also we were
actually very happy to have you here and we hope that some of you
will want a job with our company when you graduate." Then we felt
better about it.
Incidentally, that sawmill was the biggest sawmill in the world at
the time. As I recall, it had four sides, four band headsaws, two
gangs, several resaws, and while we were there they were adding a
26
Fritz:
Fritz:
Maunder;
Fritz:
twin band headrlg for slabbing a small log on two sides and then
running the cant to a gang mill. The plant had a huge burner
which was about thirty-five feet In diameter and more than a hun
dred feet high. The refuse conveyer to the burner was chocka-
block full with refuse all day long. The sawmill was really a
wonder from an engineering standpoint and for me it was a lot of
fun. It was the only big sawmill I had ever visited, the sawmills
I had visited before being very small in New England and in Mary
land, but this mill was really something big.
When Bryant asked us to prepare a report on the entire operation
at Bogalusa, I really had a field day. My mechanical drafting and
my knowledge of engineering, steam engineering in particular, and
moving parts, came in very handy and I had a lot of fun writing
the report. I spent my Saturdays and Sundays doing it and was com
plimented by Bryant when he said that he d I i ke to have that report
to copy for the Yale Forestry Library,
not, I don t know.
Whether it s there now or
Maunder: You don t have a copy?
I had my
one over
own copy for many years,
to the Yale Forest Schoo
and I be I leve that
I Library. I don t
I turned that
recal I , but I
think it s there. It had something like 120 pages and was very well
illustrated with pencil drawings of the plant. I was able to help
my classmates a good deal on that study because none of them had
any mechanical training, and I recall several of them standing at the
log deck wondering what made the carriage go back and forth when
one of them said, "I know how it works. That boy riding the car
riage presses a lever and the steam goes into that pipe under the
carriage."
Well, actually the pipe under the carriage was the pipe that led
steam to the setwords and the carriage rider had nothing to do with
the forward and back motion of the carriage, but that was to be ex
pected when young fellows were thrown into a big plant like that
without any engineering background. Of course, as a teacher later
on, I felt it was not good practice to take a student to the very
large sawmills but to take them to a one-side mill where they could
study every step more thoroughly at the same time.
Did you study
field trips?
the use of fire in the woods in the South on these
Oh yes. Of course, we had fire protection courses in New Haven,
and one of the professors would frequently blow his top because of
the carelessness of the American public with fire, and particularly
the lumber people, and more particularly, the woods natives who
fired the woods each spring "to kill ticks" and invite more grass.
As I said earlier, Chapman gave the use of fire, as a si I vicul tural
tool, considerable study. There is a classic set of editorials in
27
Fritz: the local paper of Crossett, Arkansas, in about 1930, berating the
Yankees for trying to stop the wild fires set annually by the na
tives. Chapman s Idea was to stop all burning except an occasional
one under strict control to remove the high grnss around longlenf
pine seedlings. The seedlings were not permanently Injured. Chap
man had a running feud with public foresters and extension agricul
turists on the subject.
Gifford Pinchot
Maunder: Could you give us a little bit of the picture of the controversy
over conservation as it was going on at the time you were a student
in college? Surely you must have been on the inside of a great
deal of discussion there at Yale, because it was the seat of the
Pinchot-Graves forestry group, and there must have been a good deal
of discussion within the ranks of forestry students and faculty
about all this at the time.
Fritz: Well, of course I was only a student but I was four or five years
older than most of my classmates. I heard the professors talk
about the matter, and I read a great deal about it. I think there
should never have been a controversy over conservation. The con
notation of conservation, if one does make his own definition, is
something everyone would endorse. But men like Pinchot made an
issue of it.
By constantly feeding information to the general public of a kind
designed to frighten, conservationists made a lot of enemies; and
I feel to this day that if Gifford Pinchot had then taken a dif
ferent attitude, forestry would be much farther along today that
it is, and there would not have developed that schism between for
esters and the timber owners that held it back.
It was quite a shock to me, coming from the engineering field where
controversies were pretty well limited to technical matters. Con
troversies in conservation were too much like those in religion of
which I had heard enough as a boy. The whole conservation movement,
which was all forestry in those days, was pretty much slanted. There
were certain people who were determined to get their views adopted
by the general public. Even to this day, conservation is a wonderful
platform for a politician.
I never knew Pinchot as intimately as those associated with him in
the Forest Service, but I saw a good deal of him. I first met him
while I was a student in the summer camp of my junior year at the
Yale Forest School. As I told you earlier, we started our Yale
training in camp on the Pinchot property near Milford, Pennsylvania.
The house looked to me like a baronial castle.
We students one day were invited to Grey Towers for what you might
28
Fritz: call "tea" Plnchot at that time was a bachelor. We were all de
ll qhted to meet the great man. Until that 1iiw, I had novor mnl
a man of such captivating personality as 01 f ford Plnrhot. Me hofl
a magnificent bearing; he was trjl and straight, above six feet;
he looked distinguished with his wonderful mustache; and he spoke
with such fervor about politics, conservation and forestry that I
was captivated by the man.
I regret that, in later years, I felt justified in looking at the
man in an entirely different way. He was canned by President Taft,
in 1910, for insubordination. When I entered the forestry school
in 1912, the matter was still fresh. Pinchot, of course, being a
man of tremendous energy, had to have something to do. He was
wealthy, and he had so much experience with politics in Washington
that the natural thing for him to do was to go into politics.
Politics ruined the man as far as I m concerned because then he
exhibited qualities that no one suspected before an uncontrollable
selfishness and vi ndictiveness.
Maunder: In what ways did these qualities manifest themselves in your
observation?
Fritz: By the way he talked and acted. The vi ndicti veness first showed
up in his helping to form the third party. His friend, Theodore
Roosevelt, was not above some vi ndicti veness himself. Pinchot,
standing on the lawn of Grey Towers, gave us a talk about what
happened at the Bull Moose Convention in Chicago in 1912; how im
portant it was to put T. R. back into the White House because he
was the real strong man. He was fervid but not too convincing.
Though I was captivated by his personality, he spoke too much like
a he I I -fire and brimstone Sunday preacher.
I was later soured on Pinchot by his injecting politics into his
own department of forestry when he became governor of Pennsylvania;
his determined effort to socialize the forest industries; his wear
ing two hats, one for political speeches and one for Sunday: and
his downgrading of county and state governments without doing any
thing to improve them. He seemed to regard the federal government
as the only form of purity and the only one to wield a stick. He
craved power.
Taft was no weakling. I ve since met some people who were very
close to him from whom I learned much that is not in print. I
think Taft s place in history will grow as the years go by, pretty
much like Herbert Hoover has grown in stature after he was sepa
rated from the White House by the voters.
Theodore Roosevelt s suspicions were easily aroused, and I think
it was this quality in T. R. that was played upon by Gifford Pin
chot, especially while T. R. was in Africa, that brought about the
formation of the third party, the so-called "Bull Moose," or Pro
gressive Party. Of course, that was just Gifford Pinchot s meat.
29
Fritz: Men like Harold Ickes who joined with Pinchot in promoting T. R. s
candidacy were of a similar order idealistic, dedicated, aggres
sive, egoistic, and over-zealous.
Maunder: Do you think that the Bull Moose Parry might never have come into
being if it hadn t been for Gifford Pinchot?
Fritz: I do, indeed. I think also that T. R. would never have been so
violently turned against President Taft if it hadn t been for Gif
ford Pinchot s needling. Pinchot, of course, was somewhat vindic
tive and he was going to get even in some way, and he did so by
setting up a third party. It killed William Howard Taft politically
and made it possible for the Democrats to win. The election of
Woodrow Wilson pleased me because it seemed to be time for a change,
and Wilson was a man of great learning and distinction in the field
of government. I would have voted for him, but living in New Haven,
Connecticut, at the time and absentee ballots having not then been
permitted, I lost my vote in that year.
Maunder: Would you rate Taft as strong a personality and as great a presi
dent as either Teddy Roosevelt or Wilson?
Fritz: He accomplished a great deal in a quiet way, and possibly more
within the lines of legality. Theodore Roosevelt acted and asked
questions afterwards. A good example was his deal for the Panama
Canal Zone. Taft didn t seem to care so much about preaching to
the public. Woodrow Wilson, of course, was an excellent president
but his idealism had the better of his practical side. I m speak
ing as one who knows nothing about politics except that it stinks.
The opponent is always wrong if he is of the other party and if
his proposals would strengthen his party. It s a case of party
before country.
Maunder: Well, now, what was the row
from where you observed it?
between Pinchot and Ba I linger all about
How do you interpret that fight?
Fritz: I was then only a student. One of the professors harangued us
against Ba I linger, but I knew too little about it to judge. How
ever, I felt that his accusers were making a mountain out of a
molehill and were out to get somebody for some reason I didn t
understand. I believe that Harold Ickes was quite sincere when,
in later years, he said that he was wrong about Bal linger. Ba I lin
ger was probably a scapegoat. Pinchot, of course, found the con
troversy just wonderful to get himself before the public as its
champion. Pinchot loved publicity. He was quite an actor.
Would you be interested in a story told me by George M. Cornwall,
founder and editor of The Timberman, published in Portland, Oregon?
Maunder: I would.
Fritz: | knew George Cornwall very well. For a number of years we lived
30
Fritz: in adjoining blocks in Berkeley, and he often came to our house.
He knew the situation as well as Plnchot, how the forests were be
ing handled, and did a great deal to improve it through his maga
zine and the Pacific Logging Congress, which he founded.
I asked whether he ever met Pinchot, and he said, "Yes. I must
tell you about the first time 1 ever met him. It was at the Daven
port Hotel in Spokane, Washington. Pinchot was out there for some
kind of a meeting, and being a publisher of a trade magazine, I felt
that I should interview him."
So Cornwall went to Pinchot and
said, "Well, I ll be glad to be
asked for an
i nterviewed,
interview. Pinchot
but let s go up to my
room
where
it i
it will be quiet." When they got to his room Pinchot
said, "I can think a lot better if I lie flat on my back on the
floor," and Cornwall, being very guick-witted said, "Well, I ll lie
down right alongside of you with my notebook and you go right
ahead."
Maunder:
So he put a pillow under his head, and Pinchot started off giving
some of his background, about his father, how he happened to go to
France to study forestry and how he got Into forestry work in this
country. In short, it was something like this, as I recall it:
Pinchot, feeling that, as a wealthy man s son and a Yale graduate,
he had an obligation to improve the world, discussed it with his
father. His father asked, "What do you want to do?"
Gifford replied, "I d like to be useful and I think this conserva
tion movement which is being talked about so much nowadays should
be a good thing," and the father said, "Okay, what do you want to
do about it?" The reply was, "I want to go to France and study
forestry." This shows Pinchot s fervor for conservation came early
and undoubtedly was sincere.
Did George
Timberman?
M. Cornwall s account of this interview appear in the
Fritz: That I can t tell you. The interview took place possibly in 1910,
maybe earlier. I understand the Timberman has developed an index
for all its back issues so you might be able to find it there.
Pinchot s Breaking New Ground has got to be read with some under
standing of the times, of the man himself, and of the man who is
thought to have prepared the material for publication, Raphael Zon.
The book is one-sided in glorifying Pinchot. It is silent on other
points. For example, you won t find Hetch Hetchy Valley mentioned,
and certainly not his part in turning Hetch Hetchy over to San
Francisco to be flooded for a reservoir. Another example is the
sketchy and down-grading mention of Dr. C. A. Schenck, the stiff-
necked German forester Pinchot had imported.
Maunder: Of course, isn t that typical of almost all books as memoirs, that
31
Maunder: they hold forth the things that people like to remember about them
selves rather than being very critical of their past?
Fritz: Yes, that may be true, but Zon -orshipped Plnchot and was himself
a vindictive type of person and not above plagiarism.
Maunder: Could you spell that out, the fact that Zon was, as you say, a
plagiarist? In what area did he plagiarize?
Fritz: I recall Zon coming to Fort Valley, Arizona, where I was in the
Forest Experiment Station. In my presence at least, he said nothing
that was helpful. When he left, my boss, Gus Pearson, a wonderful
boss for anybody to have, was quite disturbed. He didn t trust Zon
because Zon would go through our data and when he found something
he could use, it came out for his own use.
Several years after I resigned as editor of the Journal of Forestry,
I got the Russian professor, Vyzsotzky, to prepare an article on
shelter belts. He was then about eighty years old. He was des
cribed to me as being the leader in Russia of shelter belt science,
and even though it was in Stalinist Russia, a letter went through.
I suggested that he write an article on shelter belts because that
was a big issue of the day when President Franklin Roosevelt was
asked to crisscross the whole continent with shelter belts, to
ameliorate the climate even in distant cities.
Maunder: Wasn t the major reason for the shelter belts to alleviate the
dust bowl problem?
Fritz: The dust bowl focused attention on the benefits of windbreaks.- But
a government employee thinks expansively, and simple windbreaks
became border- to- border belts of trees. Windbreaks are an old story
in the United States on the plains, in the California citrus area,
and elsewhere, long before the invention of the equally expansive
New Deal of F. D. R.
Maunder: Where did Zon get involved with this Russian scientist?
Fritz: Well, he wasn t involved with him directly. I wrote to the pro
fessor for an article on shelter belts, and I told him in my let
ter, as I recall the letter, that there was so much controversy
about shelter belts, ! think the Journal o_f_ Forestry should carry
an article by someone who knows about shelter belts, how they oper
ate, and how good they are for ameliorating climate in the immediate
vici n ity .
I told him also that much of our data on windbreaks seems to have
come from Russia. Professor Vyzsotzky came back very promptly
with an article that was published in the Journal of Forestry
when Franklin Reed was the editor. In the last paragraph, the
author accused Zon of using his material without credit. The
Vyzsotzky article was really excellent and gave us a better
32
Fritz: understanding of shelter belts and how they operate.
Maunder: Is tho correspondence you had with the Russian author sill I In
ex I stence?
Fritz: It s in my files in Berkeley.*
Maunder: That would be very interesting documentation to back up this
oral history interview.
Fritz: I hope some day to go through my correspondence files and winnow
out the letters that might have some value in the future. I must
have several thousand or more much more than that to go through.
I started on it several years ago and got as far as the letter D
or E. It thinned the files considerably, but even then they
contain some stuff that isn t worth saving.
Maunder: May I make a suggestion to you in that regard? Don t do too much
winnowing because the person who is a skilled manuscripts expert
would find things of historical interest which you might think
very trivial or minor in interest.
Fritz: Before we go on to another topic, please let me say a little more
on Pinchot. I have been critical of him so far in this interview.
Others, too, have been equally critical, for example, Wallace
Stegner in his book, Beyond the Hundredth Meridian (Houghton-
Mifflin Company, Boston, 1954). Nevertheless, Pinchot s lasting
merits outweigh his demerits. He was an excellent organizer and
administrator.
The U. S. Forest Service is his monument. It has sturdily con
tinued the high standard of public service inculcated by Pinchot.
His charm and general charisma drew a large coterie of enthusiastc
supporters. He had enormous energy and drive and inspired his
colleagues to work as hard as he drove himself. He must be
recognized forever as the leader in a great cause.
Contrasts i n Forestry Education
Maunder: I d like to throw out one more question before we leave the
discussion of your education. How would you contrast engineering
and forestry education in those days?
Fritz: There s no comparison. Even in those days, engineering was really
The Papers of Emanuel Fritz are deposited in Bancroft Library,
University of California, Berkeley, California.
33
Fritz: a tough subject. It was about as tough as medicine. I saw what
medicine is like because my younger brother was a medical student,
and while he had thicker books than I had, he didn t have to work
any harder than I did. It meant sitting up late at night and do
ing mathematical problems and laboratory reports, engineering
test reports and so on. Two, three, or four of us who worked to
gether would often sit up until one and two o clock, working up
the data. Of course, it could have been done in much less time,
but my party happened to be interested and wanted to turn out re
ports that we could use ourselves later on in engineering practice,
Maunder: Do you mean that this kind of hard work was not necessary in for
estry education? There was no burning of the midnight oil?
Fritz: Not at all. I probably had to work harder than the other stu
dents in my forestry class because I had no background of biology,
and it was rather tough having shifted from a physical science to
a biological science, but at the same time it was a fascinating
subject.
I think our forestry professors did the very best they could with
the equipment they had. By equipment, ( mean the knowledge of
forestry. What they taught us Is what they learned only a few
years earlier from their own professors, and they In turn got it
from the Germans or the French. So there wasn t too good a basis
for forestry in America. It was mostly forestry by the book.
Of course, in a course like dendrology given by Jim Tourney, that
was different. That was merely applied botany and Tourney did have
a great background in biology and botany, and he made the course
in dendrology extremely Interesting. He actually made the trees
live for us, and although we had never seen many of those trees
except from his word pictures, we could get pretty good mental
pictures of the trees he was talking about, and we had to learn
about five hundred. Nowadays I think they teach only about fifty
or seventy-five, picking out the most important commercial species.
Well, as to the contrast between the two, there couldn t have been
the thoroughness when I was a student that is possible today.
Most of the teachers at that time didn t have a biological back
ground and no background in economics, or a very thin one, and no
background in engineering. It s amazing that they did as good a
job as they did. In contrasting the two, I would say that in en
gineering, we had such a broad background for engineering in mathe
matics and physics, a little bit of chemistry, a world of theoreti
cal mechanics, and laboratory work, and actual work on machines
that could not have been duplicated at that time in forestry.
The forestry teachers of today are equipped far better than we
were in my own teaching career, and the students we have today
are those who will become the teachers of the future and, in turn,
will be far better equipped than the present teachers. Of course,
34
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
that s true of the entire teaching profession,
somewhat the idea?
Does that give you
Maunder:
Fritz:
I think so. Do you think there Is ^uch difference in teaching
techniques today, in comparing them with earlier methods?
There was an awful lot of crusading that crept into teaching then.
We don t get much of that today. For example, I think I said
earlier that in one course, the professor would stop and in very
strong terms, condemn this or that individual or industry. I d
never heard anything like that in engineering school, but it seemed
to be the thing to do in forestry, and it seemed also that it was
the purpose of some of the teachers to make zealots or crusaders
out of their students. That s something I didn t like.
Do you think that could be explained by the fact that forestry
was a new profession emerging on the American scene, and it was
striving mightily for recognition by the dramatic method of tak
ing up a holy crusade? Do you think that entered in, or is that
not a valid interpretation?
Quite so. American forestry teaching was new. There was almost
no practice of forestry in the woods. The first teachers had to
write the textbooks. There was almost no research. Basic principles
were derived from the Germans and French.
The conservation movement goes .back many years. It had its formal
beginning, I should say, in 1875 when the American Forestry Asso
ciation was founded, and it had articulate proponents all the
years since, beginning with a man by the name of John A. Warder
and running all the way down into and through the Pinchot days.
Some of the men who were in the top echelons of the Forest Service
following the Pinchot days, and I would say a few even up to the
present, also had that crusader idea. For a long time, I think
some of the top Forest Service men tried to emulate or imitate
Gifford Pinchot.
Some were socialistic and felt that forests should be publicly
owned and managed. Socialism is only one step removed from a dic
tatorial and wasteful bureaucracy. For one who was brought up in
the private enterprise atmosphere, as I was at home, socialism is
anathema. We felt that one should work for everything he gets and ze
compensated accordingly. If he gets something for nothing, he has
less respect for it.
I still think this theory is right. I couldn t stomach some of the
propaganda that was handed out in the early days of my forestry
career, that everybody, under pain of ostracism, should run for the
banner of those who are arguing for federal ownership, or at least
federal control. I do believe, however, that forestry teachers soon
developed a strong independence of Pinchotism and helped halt the
trend toward socialism.
35
Fritz: The lack of forestry was due to the abundance of timber which, in
turn, begat too many sawmills and invited instability and a migra
tory industry. The owners were burdened with holding charges, taxa
tion, interest, protection, adrl nlstration and so on. A few of them
made a lot of money and became weal Thy men as a result of their own
ership. But It was just like mining It isn t every hole you dig
that is going to bring up pay dirt. A lot of lumbermen went broke.
36
II! BEGINNING A FORESTRY CAREER
The Context of Government and I ndus i ry
Maunder: Let s go back to your career again and start you off as a practic
ing forester. When did that actually begin and where?
Fritz: First of all, you re making it appear that my career was really
of some importance. It is a fact that during my lifetime, I saw
the conservation movement really get underway, the national forest
system set up, the philosophy of liquidation changing over to a
philosophy of holding and tree farming, also a change in the atti
tude of the federal government, and of course, a big change in the
national forest system in that the public lands are now actually
in the timber selling business in a big way. But my own part was
that of an i ndi vidual .
Maunder: There have been some big changes in industry, too. It has often
been characterized as being a sick Industry in those days, Emanuel.
How would you characterize the industry as you recall it in the
years just preceding World War I?
Fritz: As I said earlier, there was too much timber available for cutting.
It would have been better if more of it had been kept on ice in
the public domain and sold only as the market needed it. By "sold,"
I mean "in fee." Before World War I, the wail was, "What s wrong
with the lumber industry?" Whatever was wrong was the result of
too many land owners forced into building mills to earn funds for
taxes and interest. The consequence was too many mills, overpro
duction, and no, or too little, profit.
Maunder: You mean a really sick industry?
Fritz: It was sick in the same sense that farming has always been sick.
Too many men were trying to produce a product that too few people
were ready to buy. In lumbering, the very fact that certain people
owned timber was an impelling motive to operate that timber, to get
it off the stump, through the mill and into a salable product before
the bond holders would foreclose. The result is that the producing
capacity of the sawmill industry was far above what the market re-
qui red.
You still have the same thing in farming today except that in farm
ing you are actually paying a man to create a surplus whereas in
the lumber business, those who created a surplus suffered from it
themselves, and of course made the rest of the industry suffer also.
That has now changed because the economic situation is different,
the preponderance of old growth is now a thing of the past, and
those who own what old growth is left what s in private hands
know that they ve got to husband it and handle it more carefully
37
Fritz: than they ever did. They re now making money, making money as
industrialists rather than merely as timber holders, and they have
set up the successlul troo farm system at no cost to the public.
Maunder: You recall Thomas B. Walker, the lumberman who came out here from
Minnesota and became a big pine land owner in northern California?
He wrote an article for the editor of Sunset magazine in January,
1910, entitled "Forests for the Future?" TrTthis article, he evi
denced a serious concern for conservation of forest resources and
he recognized some of the main reasons why the harvest of wood up
to that time had left approximately two-thirds of the product to
waste and took only one-third for use.
He cites as the main reasons for this rather terrible waste: I)
excessive local taxes on standing timber, 2) competition of more
cheaply produced Canadian lumber (and this reason Walker said was
very much overlooked, yet in his estimation it was perhaps the
greatest factor responsible for waste in the woods), and 3) need
for conservation and reforesting was fully expressed at the time,
but no definite plan was suggested by anyone or outlined by anyone,
whereby and through which provisions for future supply could be
provided either by the Forestry Commission or the Forestry Depart
ment or any other group of the community.
Walker in this article purported to present a practical plan which
he thought might deal with this problem, and the plan which he
proceeded to outline involved a pattern of government control and
regulation, both of prices and of labor and of the tariff and all
the rest, which would seem rather far down the road to socialism
by many businessmen today. Yet here was one of the biggest business
men in the lumber industry of his day suggesting a plan of this kind.
Th is was in 1910.
Fritz: Do you recall the month in which that appeared?
Maunder: That was in January, 1910, pages 59 to 65, Sunset magazi ne.
Fritz: I must look that up. I didn t know about that article until you
mentioned it, but I must say that it certainly was not in character
for T. B. Walker to ask for public regulation because he was first
of all an individualist.
Maunder: I think you ll find the reading of that article quite a surprise.
It certainly was to me, to see this coming from the pen of a prominent
bus! nessman.
Fritz: He was a very large owner, and he spent a great deal of money as
sembling that big property from the small separate ownerships, but
I can understand in a way why he should have felt that way at that
time. I recall that in 1915 when I was in the Forest Service in
Montana, I was one of the younger assistants on a study of the lum
ber industry in the Inland Empire, and some of the lumbermen I
38
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
talked to had somewhat the same idea, that the timber should never
have been allowed to get out of government hands on such a large
scale. Of course, that sounded all right at that time, but look-
Ing back, I don t think It wou d have solved anything because the
government is not better than private industry in managing a business,
Now Walker, like some of the others, understood that the producing
capacity of the sawmills was far greater than was required by the
market, and by having some kind of control, I think he felt that it
would prevent the construction of some sawmills which made it im
possible for a reasonable number to operate at a profit.
He also indicated that he would be in favor of curtailing the pro
duction of those sawmills which were already in production. In
other words, they could only produce a certain percentage each year.
This was part of his plan.
That sounds almost like the crop-control
probably would have been a good thing if
schemes of today. It
it could have been run by
the industry itself,
of federal policing.
I m much more in favor of self-policing than
think it was Walker s idea that this thing should be tried first
of all on a voluntary basis and that if this failed, then the
federal government should step in and lower the boom on those who
wouldn t abide by the regulations.
Fritz:" I want to digress for a moment because I feel that the federal
government is basically responsible for that situation. The fed
eral government, beginning in the early 1860 s when Abraham Lincoln
signed the Homestead Act, started the breakdown of the timbered
domain into small ownerships. The philosophy was to get the land
into the hands of the public in 160-acre parcels. The law was
designed primarily for homesteading prospective farm land, but it
was absolutely bad and self-defeating when it was applied to tim
ber I and.
I think that was brought out very, very well by an early director
of the U. S. Geological Survey, Major J. W. Powell. He got himself
into a lot of unpleasantness because he protested the application
of the Homestead Law to the timbered areas of the West. That has
been brought out again in more recent books bearing on Major Powell s
life and his philosophy, and also books on the winning of the West.
Maunder: In other words, the western lands, forested lands, were not sus
ceptible of development in the same way as the prairie farm land?
Fritz: Correct.
Maunder: Would you explain a little bit how you feel it would have been
better, how the land policy of our government might have been more
wisely carried out?
39
Fritz: First of all, let s see how it actually worked out. The Homestead
Act made it possible for a citizen to obtain title to 160 acres of
valuable timber. Later the Timber and Stone Act was passed to pro
vide for a similar breakdown. One hundred and sixty acres might
make a good farm, but it can t support a sawmill. It takes a large
area of timber to operate a sawmill economically and certainly a
great area to do it on a sustained-yield basis.
By breaking the land down into I60 s, Congress practically invited
the patentee to cash in at once by sel ling to a sawmi I I man. Be
ing mountainous and rough, the land couldn t be farmed anyway. Many
of these 160-acre "claims" were settled on with full knowledge that
the timber was easy to sell. Fraud was invited. Timberland locators
took train loads of "homesteaders" west, went through the simple
formality of filing each on a 160, paid each one maybe $150, and
sent them all back home. This is only a slight oversimplification
of the situation.
In other cases, the timber agent would file fraudulent claims for
nonexi sting people. Thus large blocks were reassembled. The
agent was actually representing a timberland investor who financed
him. It caused a scandal and some agents, along with several con
gressmen, were jailed. The U. S. was paid the full price per acre,
but the intent of the law was clearly violated, even though the
intent was an error. What Uncle Sam had fragmented, the timber in
vestors reassembled.
Unfortunately, the process of reassembling the quarter sections
into manageable blocks stopped too soon. As a result, we suffered
the consequences up to and through the I940 s. Northwestern Cali
fornia presents a good example. There, many of the "homesteaded"
or Timber and Stone Act quarter sections remained in the hands of
the original patentees or their heirs. This was in a region of
Douglas fir forests, east of and adjoining the redwood forest belt
and considered inaccessible.
Came World War II with its tremendous lumber requirements. It hap
pened that many of the small loggers of Oregon and Washington,
finding themselves out of timber and hearing about the large area
of "inaccessible" Douglas fir in northern California, looked it
over and liked it. Much of it was owned by ranchers who had tried
for years to get rid of it by burning to create more grass. Some
sold their stumpage for as little as one dollar per M board feet,
at which price even a small logger could afford to build roads into
it.
The result was a multitude of small logging operators each laying
out his own road system, independent of his neighbor. Small loggers
generally are heavily in debt for equipment and working capital. So
they had to economize and did so by doing horrible jobs of high-
grading. The lands still show the effect. They and the owners took
unfair advantage of the state s Forest Practice Act, passed in 1945.
Now some areas are a shambles, even unfit for grazing.
40
Fritz: As I said earlier, it was a mistake to throw the timbered parts
of the public domain into the laps of the general public just by
signing the two land laws I mentioned. The eventual owners, most
of them, had to be able to buy solid blocks cheap and hold them
until the market Justified another fully integrated lumbering op
eration. Much of this land has been, held thirty to forty years
to give the eventual sawmill another twenty years of life. The
last acre of some of it wi I I not be reached until the year 1990
or 2000. All the while, it is being taxed but returns no dollars.
Maunder: This is one of those things where we can look back very easily
with the advantage of hindsight and say that this was a bad law
from a certain point of view. Of course, it wasn t as easy to
see it in those days as it is now.
Fritz: There were people who saw it. Major Powell saw it. The lumber
people saw it. Otherwise they would not have undertaken the re-
assemblage of the fragments into large efficiently operable blocks.
Maunder: But that didn t come until considerably later than the I860 s, am
I not right?
Fritz: Major Powell was a contemporary of the early founders of the con
servation movement that jelled in 1875 with the formation of the
American Forestry Association. They were still for reconstituting
solid large tracts in the I930 s when land was cheap. Uncle Sam
should have done better.
But such things move slowly take, for example, the wasteful mix
ture of public lands in the Oregon and California Railroad land
grant areas. Here, 2,500,000 acres of Douglas fir, administered
by the Bureau of Land Management of the Department of the Interior,
intermingle with National Forests of the Department of Agriculture
in a checkerboard pattern. Many people have recommended that
trades be undertaken between the two bureaus, the state of Oregon
and private owners to eliminate the checkerboarding. While in
the Interior Department on a three-month writing assignment in
1938, I tried to stir up some active interest in the realignment
of the lands for more economical administration and operation but
got nowhere. Federal bureaus cherish their status quo.
In the New Hampshi re Forestry Department
Maunder: Suppose we go back again to your early days after leaving Yale.
You had worked in New Hampshire for a while. What was your job?
Fritz: I was in New Hampshire on three jobs: the summer of 1913, two
weeks at Christmas, 1913, and seven months after graduation in
1914.
The summer of 1913, with the help of two boys, I made a forest
41
Fritz:
survey of two properties, of about five hundred acres each. One
was on Sunapee Lake and the other was on Thorndike Pond. They were
small properties owned by wealthy people who had heard a lot about
forestry and wanted to give It P. fling to see what was in it. I
might say that an awful lot of people In those days heard about
forestry and thought they d look into It, but generally were dis
appointed because it just didn t make sense when there wasn t a
market to buy
cost money.
their forest product. Also, good forest practices
However, I still think that there are a lot of things that an
owner could have done that wouldn t have cost him much but which
would have left his land in a more viable condition after logging.
You can see that a I I over the West where some good practices were
followed merely by chance.
Maunder: Were you making up these management plans as a private consultant
or as a member of the Forest Service?
Fritz: I was employed as an assistant in the Forestry Department of the
state of New Hampshire. Edgar C. Hirst was the State Forester, a
very fine man. It was a great pleasure to work for him. In fact,
all the immediate bosses I had in state and government service in
forestry were top men.
Maunder: Is this the same Edgar Hirst who is now a banker?
Fritz: President of the First National Bank of Concord, and still a fac
tor in New Hampshire conservation, and particularly forestry. I
think he s president this year of the Society for the Protection
of New Hampshire Forests.
That was an interesting experience, that summer in New Hampshire.
Here was I, a graduate student at the Yale Forestry School, sent
out to make two management plans, and frankly, I was confused as
to the application of the theory I had learned in the classroom.
Perhaps too, I had some skepticism of its practicality. When I
was a junior at Cornell in engineering, I could have gone out and
done a more responsible job in sawmill ing. But I think that the
lack of competency in forestry was largely due to the newness of
the art, and perhaps it was still as new to the teachers. However,
I think I learned a great deal on these jobs that was of inesti-
mab le va I ue later.
Maunder: Forestry was just beginning to get its feet under it in this country
and had nobody of real experience on which to draw.
Fritz: That s right. I don t lay it to the teachers. Perhaps being city
bred made the forestry management phase a mystery. I still have
the maps I made for those two plans and they look pretty much like
Joseph s coat because of the many colors.
Maunder: Were your plans followed?
42
Fritz: On Thorndike Pond, when the word got around that there were so-
called timber cruisers on this property, a wealthy man who owned
property on the other side of the lake a wealthy Boston I an who
had a summer house there thought, "That property is going to be
logged off. I d better buy it before it s logged to preserve my
scenic view."
My report was instrumental in his buying the property in one block.
The owner was a woman from New Jersey who inherited it and had no
particular use for it as far as I could see. It was all volunteer
growth, second growth pine and hardwoods.
My other area I think was cut somewhat according to my plan, but
if I was correctly informed by the source, the owners were talked
into cutting it more heavily than was recommended, probably talked
into it by a logger. Too often a land owner thinks the logger
knows more about values than the forester, and he falls for the
logger s pitch. We ve had a lot of that in California in the last
fifteen or twenty years. When the owner discovers that he was
over! nf I uenced by the logger, he gets pretty mad. Then he calls
on foresters to help bail him out.
Maunder: After your summer s experience in New Hampshire, where did you go?
Fritz: I had to go back for my senior year at Yale. The senior year ended
in June, 1914, but in March, the class went to Mississippi for
three months of field work. I had no desire or intention of going
back to New Haven to get my Master s diploma handed to me from the
platform, so several of us took passage on a boat from New Orleans
to New York, a five-day trip, and while we were at sea they were
holding the commencement exercises in New Haven.
I had thought I might get a job with the U. S. Forest Service. I
had my Forest Service examination behind me in which I didn t think
I did too well. I had a good passing grade, and I should have done
much better but, during the two seven-hour exam days, I had a very
severe and painful attack of lumbago which made it impossible for
me to move in the seat, not even to go out to the toi let.*
So one part of the examination (Forest Management) I never reached,
but I got a passing grade; and I understand I would have been given
an appointment but Congress was slow in passing the appropriation
bill and I figured that any Congress that is so slow in passing an
appropriation pay bill wouldn t have much interest in its employees,
so I thought, "To hell with it," and took the first job that came
my way and returned to New Hampshire.
*The lumbago is a souvenir of two weeks on the Yale Forest at Keene,
New Hampshire, during the 1913 Christmas vacation, where I was
employed with two classmates to cut gray birch to release the white
pine seedlings it was choking. The souvenir is still with me.
43
Fritz: The State Forester of New Hampshire had asked me to come up there
to make a number of what he called "panoramic lookout maps" for use
on lookout stations for aiding the lookout man in identifying the
location of fires. The map was twenty-six inches in diameter; there
was a three-inch wide ring on the outside and twenty inches inside
the ring. To the twenty- Inch area was fastened a planometric map
and in the three-inch annular area, I drew in the panorama, the en
tire view from the lookout station.
It was done with a very clever special type of alidade. It was very
crude. It started as a two-foot carpenter s folding rule at first,
with the six-inch ends turned up with a piece of stiff paper on one
end which could be moved up and down with the line of sight. It was
developed by Professor F. B. Knapp, of the Eric Forest School at
Duxbury, Massachusetts, and the New Hampshire State Forester took
it up. A man by the name of Falconer, who was then employed by the
State Forester, made a better instrument of brass, and I used the
one he developed. Before I quit I had a still better one developed.
I changed the rack and pinion to a screw thread to give it a finer
adjustment.*
I made fifteen of those maps, from Pawtackaway Mountain in southern
New Hampshire all the way up to Deer Mountain in northernmost New
Hampshire, including several mountains in the White Mountain area.
I had to climb so many mountains not only the lookout mountains
but other mountains to get the terrain that it never occurred to
me that it would be of any interest to climb Mount Washington. I
saw this fine mountain from all sides and I didn t see anything
could be gained by getting on top of it.
That was an interesting experience too. It taught me an awful lot
about at least one state and one state s forest fire organization
and the growing pains of state forestry. This is a good time to
give Ed Hirst credit for being one of the top men among state for
esters of his day. He was a good organizer; he was a fine man to
work with and for, and he gave his assistants a lot of authority,
a lot of responsibility and a lot of time to do a good job. New
Hampshire, I think, was the first to use a circular lookout map
board.
Maunder: You hear a great deal about the contributions which the U. S. For
est Service made, especially in such areas as the fighting of for
est fires in the early days. What about the state forestry agencies?
Were they also in the front rank of this movement?
*The New Hampshire circular fire locating map and the alidade are
described in the Timberman, 1915 (Portland, Oregon). Also in the
Sib ley Journal of Engineering of December, 1917, and The Geographical
Re v i ew 6 : 6 : 50 1 -503 . The lead paragraph of the Timberman artlc le was
prepared by the Forest Service District Office, and Fritz by-line
was replaced with the District Forester s name to make it an "offi
cial" contribution.
Fritz:
44
I think they were about on a par. Of course, the Forest Service
wasn t set up until 1905 while some states were in the fire pro
tection business before the federal government. The state of Cali
fornia, for example, set up a Board of Forestry way back in the
Most of
the need
It didn t
days amounted
the effort was directed to the public to
I880 s and fire protection was one of its objectives,
amount to much, but no fire protection effort in those
to a great dea I .
educate it as to
for protection.
Maunder: But did they pioneer the field?
Fritz: Both state and federal foresters did. They cooperate now more
than ever. New York and Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Hampshire
and California I would say led the parade. I was quite surprised
to learn when I came to California that California was so early in
setting up a Board of Forestry.
The U.S.F.S. was set up in 1905. In 1910, it had the great
2,000,000-acre fire in the Inland Empire. This fire I think came
at a good time. It brought more attention by Congress and more
money. Looking back, all fire protection efforts seem pitifully
feeble. But improvements came rapidly. Not only was it necessary
to learn how to fight fires, study causes and invent equipment, but
the biggest obstacle was public apathy really worse than that be
cause many locals believed fires a good thing! From these small
beginnings, we now have forest fire organization and equipment
similar to a military campaign.
Maunder: Do you recall anything more about your experience in New Hampshire
that would be of value in regard to the history of fire fighting
or any other aspect of forestry?
Fritz: Well, it was cut and try. We tried this and tried that. It was
felt that when you have a fire, in order to put it out, you can t
go to the city fire department and get a hook and ladder truck or
a steamer to go out there and put it out. It had to be fought by
hand, and that called for hand tools: shovel, mattock, pick, and
so on, and a little later, hand pumps for spraying water on little
f i res.
The State Forester in New Hampshire had one of his men design a
tool box in which he would keep fire fighting tools, and these
boxes of tools were distributed here and there in critical areas.
I recall one day one of the men I think it was Falconer set up
the box outside the State House and brought along all the tools to
see how they would fit in the box. Being interested in photography
at the time, I asked him to arrange all the tools in such a way that
the box would show open and the tools would be displayed to show
what goes in. I took the photograph which the State Forester later
used in his annual report, one of the first photographs taken of a
box of fire fighting tools.
45
Fritz: Fire fighting was hard work, of course, especially with hand tools,
and more often than not the fire got the upper hand, that is, dur
ing periods of real fire weather.
Well, the experiences In New Hampshire were especially valuable, I
think, in teaching me a little more of woodsmanship. I was alone
most of the time on the mapping Job. I didn t know the country
although the maps were easy to follow.
Maunder: What was your base of operations?
Fritz: Concord was the headquarters, but I was there very little until the
winter.
Maunder: You were in the field most of the time?
Fritz: Yes. I would come in to Concord once in a while to make a fresh
start. Travel was by railroad, horse and wagon, and afoot. I would
go by railroad to the nearest station to my next mapping mountain,
and would then get the local fire warden, who was a part-time man,
to drive me to the foot of the trail, or I would hire a horse and
buggy and have somebody drive me over. Once in a while there was
an automobile available.
I recall one time I was in a stagecoach, one of the last of the
old Concord coaches left. It was a coach that oscillated back and
forth between the railroad station and the famous Agasslz House at
Bethlehem, New Hampshire, the only stagecoach of that type I ever
rode in.
The job gave me a pretty good idea of mountain forms and of forests,
and being alone, I had a lot of opportunity to size things up. i
think that was the best education in forestry so soon after leav
ing school. Being out in the woods on my own made it possible to
really see what has happened after logging and try to figure out
why.
Of course, there was still some virgin timber in some areas in New
Hampshire in the neighborhood of Waterville, for example, and In
Coos County, the northernmost county in New Hampshire, and on
McGalloway Mountain that was all virgin and on some of the others.
And the lookout men told me a great deal. They were mostly woods
men, trappers and hunters and so on. They were a great source of
woods lore and woods knowledge, which has been very valuable.
It s regrettable that we can t have in our forestry profession
today men of that type. They were really good. They knew the
woods and how to get around. They didn t bitch about the weather
and worked long hours. They enjoyed every minute of it. They
knew how to swing an axe; they knew how to find a corner; they
knew how to follow through the woods on a straight line; and they
were men to watch because you could learn from them. Sometimes
Fritz:
46
they played some pretty mean tricks on city boys like myself but
we had to take them in good humor. It was all part of the training,
Maunder: Do you recall any of those trices?
Fritz: I remember one old ranger that was in the Forest Service after I
came West. He made me believe he had no more saddles. Of course,
he s going to have a saddle for himself, and the supervisor must
have a saddle, and the timber salesman must have a saddle, but
this new guy over here, Fritz, he s going to have to ride this old
flea-bitten mare bareback. Well, I d never ridden a horse before
but this horse had such a broad back that I couldn t fall off of
it, so I made it all right.
They also played tricks on one another. They were a good lot and
I enjoyed those fellows. They even played tricks on the supervi
sors. The supervisors, as woodsmen, were as green as some of the
assistants.
Maunder:
Fritz:
They used the experiment of the observation tower for the first
time in New Hampshire, didn t they?
I don t know where the forest fire lookout stations started. At
first, there were no towers. Observation was from a cleared moun
tain top. New Hampshire had plenty of mountain tops; it also had
some crude towers. Some of the towers were merely poles set up
like a frustum of a pyramid with a platform on top. I have an
article, "Recollections of Forest Fire Detection of Fifty Years
Ago," that appeared in Volume 22 (1962) of the Log ge rs Ha nd boo k .
I had some interesting experiences on those towers; some were not
safe to climb. I recall the one on Deer Mountain in New Hampshire.
That was only a platform of peeled poles slung between the tops of
two spruce trees, right on top of the mountain. When the wind blew,
those trees swayed and the platform, of course, aggravated the swing.
When I arrived on that mountain to make my panoramic map, I was told
that there was my tower, and that if I had to make a map from it,
I d better get up there and start before the wind blows.
I couldn t work except in the early and late hours of daylight,
when the sun was coming up and going down and would silhouette
the ridges. I couldn t do very much at midday. I guess I was about
a week making that map. Generally, it took anywhere from five days
to two weeks. I lost a lot of time on account of fog and clouds.
When I got to the end of my panorama mapping, I yelled down to the
about half an hour, I ll be finished drawing, and
come up and give me the names of some of these valleys
lookout man, "In
I want you to
and ridges." And his answer was, "Young feller,
that platform, either alone or with you up there with me
I m not
never been
safe."
going up
I ve
up there and I m never going to go up there. It isn t
on
47
In Montana and Idaho With the U. S. Forest Service
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Emanuel, you told us about your first experience as a practicing
forester up In New Hampshire. You went on from that point to
what other work?
The New Hampshire job was a temporary one. It involved the prepa
ration of about fifteen of these panoramic maps, and after I had
completed the office work during the winter in Concord, I was
through. About a month prior to that I was offered a position in
the U. S. Forest Service by David T. Mason. I had already turned
down two offers from the U.S.F.S., and the third was to be the
last; and since my New Hampshire job was to come to an end, I took
the Forest Service job which would assign me to Missoula, Montana,
under D. T. Mason. I had met Mason a few months earlier when he
lectured at the Yale Forest School.
Incidentally, I had never had any expectation of moving west be
cause New Hampshire looked good to me, and even though the job in
the state Forest Service was not permanent, I thought New Hampshire
would offer an excellent opportunity to invest savings in abandoned
farms and bring them back into timber production. Land was cheap.
One could buy an abandoned farm for two or three dollars an acre,
which would be a good investment for tree planting.
The job in the west turned out to be part of a study of the lumber
industry. It was to be nation-wide, and, as I recall it, William
B. Greeley was to head it in Washington, and Mason had charge of
the Inland Empire division, and I was merely an assistant to ob
tain data in the field.
What was the year that you moved to Montana?
That was January, 1915. My work on that project was to visit lum
ber company offices in northern Idaho, and also in eastern Oregon
and Washington, to obtain data on price fluctuations, production,
shipments, and so on. I was in the offices of the Humbird Lumber
Company, the Pot latch Lumber Company, the Palmer Lumber Company in
eastern Washington, the Spirit Lake Lumber Company, and several
others, taking data from their old invoices. The lumber industry
received the field men very cordially and was very friendly.
Apparently, the study was undertaken by the Forest Service because
it wanted to ease off some of the criticism the Bureau of Corpora
tions had provoked by its very unfriendly report of several years
earlier. It seems that the Bureau of Corporations, without any
understanding of the lumber industry s situation, made some state
ments which the industry resented and which the Forest Service men
felt were not justified or correct.
The new study was undertaken to get facts from the standpoint of
48
Fritz: men who knew something about the Industry. It was a very pleasant
assignment. The treatment I received In the lumber company offices
was, as I said, friendly, and I met many new people and found out
what the lumber industry is in various parts of the west and had
an opportunity to visit some forests and some forestry offices,
all of which added up to some additional experience.
Maunder: Specifically what data were you collecting?
Fritz: Data on prices, shipments, production ....
Maunder: Over a period of years starting with the origin of the company?
Fritz: As far back as the records would permit.
Maunder: What did you encounter in the way of record resources?
Fritz: Some companies had preserved their records very carefully in
specially made boxes for their storage. Apparently after storage,
they were not again touched because I noticed the dust on the tops
was undisturbed.
Maunder: Which of the companies that you visited had the most complete
records?
Fritz: Potlatch at Potlatch, Idaho. They had perfect records. The man
ager at Potlatch was A. W. Laird. Mr. Laird was a wonderful type
of man, a real gentleman, and apparently a good manager. He was
very friendly. One day he passed my desk, and he put his hand on
my shoulder and said, "Young man, how are you getting along?"
I said, "Very well, sir, and I want to thank you for the courtesies
shown me and the cooperation of your staff," which got him to con
versing, and he said, "We like you men from the regional forestry
offices but we are never sure what will happen to the data when
it reaches Washington where it might be twisted around to serve
somebody s own purpose." That comment has never escaped me and
many things that have happened since have convinced me that Mr.
Laird was correct in his suspicions.
Maunder: Can you point out any Instances in which data that you collected
and which subsequently was forwarded to Washington was treated in
that way?
Fritz: Not in the lumber industry study. I think that was a very honest
job, possibly because Greeley was a man of a very high standard of
professional ethics. But in the 1930 s, I think, a report was pre
pared in Washington, a rather extensive one, known as the Cope I and
Report. Some of the chapters were signed by members of the Forest
Service, but several told me that their statements were revised in
such a way as to slant them in favor of the Forest Service s con
tention that the lumber industry must be controlled.
49
Maunder: And was this a violation of the original report that they had
written, a violation of the spirit and the facts of what thoy had
orlql nal ly c >1;ilod?
Fritz: The spirit was completely different In the Thirties than what it
was before World War I, the short time I was in the Forest Service,
Maunder: No. I mean these field reports were twisted, you say, in the I930 s
in Washington so that they said something different than what the
field man had intended them to say. Is that your interpretation of
this?
Fritz: No, these were not field men; they were office men. One in particu
lar was on the Washington staff. Most of that report was prepared
right in Washington at least, assembled and one of the authors
was very unhappy over the fact that what he wrote was changed con-
si derab ly .
Maunder: Do you remember the name of that author, the man who was unhappy
about the change?
Fritz: I don t want to mention his name right now. He s no longer in the
Forest Service and he s still living. I don t want to involve him.
Maunder: Well, you went from Montana to Idaho and Arizona. Can you tell
us something about that experience?
Fritz: The field work on this lumber industry study was completed in a
few months and then I was transferred to the Coeur d Alene National
Forest at Coeur d Alene, Idaho. The supervisor of that forest was
Meyer H. Wolff, a Yale forestry graduate, 1909, and a native of
Russia, but educated in New York City and Connecticut. In the
office also was R. C. Eggelston, a Yale 1910 forestry graduate.
Later on there arrived Charles K. McHarg, also a Yale forester,
1913, and since I was 1914, we had a nice age distribution and four
Yale men on the same forest. This didn t sit very well with some
of the young foresters from other schools, but I don t think there
was any real resentment. We got along very well.
The supervisor, M. H. Wolff, was Jewish, and some men didn t take
very kindly to him, especially some of the rangers, but he and I
got along famously. When I was transferred a year later from his
forest to Arizona, we parted as very good friends and kept up a
correspondence for all the years until his death. He was typical
of the early foresters. He was very zealous; he saw to it that the
Forest Service got all the breaks in his dealings with others; and
he was very close in spending money on the ranger districts but he
gave all of us considerable leeway to carry on our work without
I nterruption.
Some men were constantly at loggerheads with him, but I never had
any difficulty with him. In fact, I enjoyed working with him. For
50
Fritz: example, it was the first year that the Forest Service was to have
a man on each forest detailed to specialize in fire protection, so
I was to be the fire chief of the forest, in effect. I was hope
lessly incompetent for that job. coming from the East as a city
boy and only recently graduated in forestry, whereas the local
rangers, all of them old-timer woodsmen, very competent and very
experienced, knew more about fire fighting and fire protection than
I would learn in ten years. They knew how to get around, they knew
the timber, and they were very clever in their personal relations.
Maunder: These were all men recruited right from the neighborhood?
Fritz: That s right, yes. Most of them started in the Lake States pine
forests. The Inland Empire, being a pine region, attracted a large
number of loggers and lumber people and others, woodsmen, from the
Lake States. Incidentally, when it was said that the pine forests
of the Lake States would soon give out, some people moved to Idaho
to take up a forest "homestead."
Maunder: What would you have to say about the early efforts to fight and con
trol fire in the Idaho area, the Inland Empire ?
Fritz: It was a tough job, and even though the rangers knew their way
around, they were not able to cope with some of the fires because
the only equipment we had were hand tools shovels, mattocks and
rakes. Trailing a fire was all hand work and we never had enough
manpower. So even though the rangers were good woodsmen, they
didn t find fire fighting in that forest type too easy.
But fortunately for me as a newcomer, the year 1915 was a very
easy fire year. We had just one fire of any consequence and that
was on Big Creek. It was rather important because Big Creek con
tained some green white pine timber of considerable value. Most
of the Coeur d Alene Forest was burned over in the great 1910
fires. You know as much about the 1910 fires as I do. They have
been written up a number of times. The Coeur d Alene Forest took
an awful beating.
Maunder: Well, what about this fire you dealt with in 1915? What was the
extent of the fire and what was your role in the fighting of it?
Fritz: What do you want a sort of blow-by-blow account?
Maunder: That s right.
Fritz: Well, it happens that I was on Downey Peak lookout station, on a
lookout inspection trip to see how the lookout was operating and
what his equipment was like, what was needed, and so on. While on
that mountain, I saw a thunder storm come up, what we called a dry
storm. We could see it coming; those storms always carried con
siderable lightning. The lookout tower was a wooden structure only
about fifteen feet high, and I thought that here was a good oppor
tunity to see how the lookout man works when there was a lightning
51
Fritz: storm brewing. I saw plenty! As soon as the storm approached
the lookout point and lightning began to strike close by, he lit
out for his cabin down near a spring on the slope of the mountain.
Knowing altogether too little about the playfulness of lightning,
I stayed on the tower and recorded iwenty-two or twenty-three
strikes, several of which smoked up but then died down. One, how
ever, remained large and was actually growing.
While each one was reported, no one could do anything about them
because there wasn t enough manpower. The ranger would merely
say, "Well, keep your eye on it," which I did. But the one fire
at the head of Big Creek was booming up, and I called Meyer Wolff,
the supervisor, on the field telephone. He was elsewhere in the
woods, and I told him that the fire seemed to be mostly outside
of our forest but on the Cabinet National Forest side, which was
the Montana side.
He instructed me to go to the fire myself and represent the Coeur
d Alene Forest interests. This was the next morning, and I started
off about five o clock in the morning. I couldn t walk in a straight
line to the fire because of the terrain, and I figured I could make
better time by staying on the trails, which meant going back down
off Downey Peak in the opposite direction to the North Fork of the
Coeur d Alene River and then down to the mouth of Big Creek and then
up Big Creek. It was about ten o clock or later that night that I
arrived at the fire.
Maunder: How many miles had you walked?
Fritz: Oh, possibly twenty. There was a trail but not too good. When I ar
rived at the fire, which was near the top of the divide, I found a
Montana ranger in charge doing a good job and I felt that things
were going all right. When I had a chance, I made whatever report
could be made over the temporary telephone system we established
with wires stretched out over the brush.
That same evening the ranger asked if I would go down to Big Creek
and head off and direct a pack train which was expected to come in
from the Coeur d Alene side and give it directions. When I left,
some of the men who had been on day duty for a number of hours were
ordered to sleep, and as they always did and still do, they pitched
their beds right on the ground.
I trailed off the mountain in the dark down to the creek and awaited
the arrival of the pack train. I waited a long time and I was very
tired from the long hike, so I decided to lie down and rest and I
fell asleep. Very soon the pounding of the hoofs of many horses
woke me up and a fire guard came in with his pack train the one
I d been waiting for. I had a warming fire going so he was attracted
by it.
He was pretty angry. He had had bad luck on the trai I. One of his
52
Fritz: animals stepped off the trail and rolled off the slope into the
creek and broke a leg and he had to shoot it. He also fired his
pistol for help (we had pistol shot signals) but I didn t hear
them the creek was making too much noise. The animal that went
off the trail, incidentally, was loaded with prunes and beans, so
some men probably were happy over that, and others probably would
have preferred to have the beans to what they actually got.
I prepared something hot for the packer, and while he was eating,
there was a commotion in the woods and flickering lights, very
small lights, so I rushed out into the woods and followed the trail
for some distance when I met a number of fire fighters coming out
of the woods with matches and candles and with quite a scare on
their faces. They yelled out, "Run for your life, young fellow.
The fire s following us."
I couldn t see how that could be possible so I found a tree with
some low branches and climbed up as high as I could to get a better
view of the slope. It was all black as night, so I decided that
they were panicked by some very local disturbance, which proved to
be the case, as I found out when I went to the top of the mountain
with the packer a few minutes later. The fire apparently crept
along on the ground and set fire to some low-hanging branches of a
spruce tree. The spruce flamed up very quickly and as quickly went
out. But the sleeping fire fighters were awakened, and when the
sky was lighted up by several of these torches, they didn t stop
to make any inquiries. Some ran down off the Montana slope, and
some came down on the Idaho side.
One of them later sued, or threatened to sue, the Forest Service
for a rupture which he claimed to have obtained on the fire. I
remember the man real well. He was a first-class loafer and was
one of the men we picked up along the railroad to fight fires.
While he was found to have a rupture, it was an old one which he
just figured he could use to get some money from the government.
After the fire a day or so later, when I went back to the railroad
near Wallace, I met dear old ranger Ed Pulaski. He had come up on
a speeder, or "hand car." By that time, some of the men were about
to hold me up because I refused to pay them for the time they were
asleep. Ranger Pulaski was an old-timer, a man who knew the char
acteristics of local people and loggers and drifters, and he sug
gested I add a few hours to the hours of actual work to give them
some compensation for going and coming, but I still declined to
pay them for the time they had been in bed. Anyway, Pulaski in his
quiet knowledgeable way probably prevented me from taking quite a
beating from these ex-fire fighters. Pulaski really deserves some
comment at this point.
Maunder: He was a hero of the 1910 fires?
Fritz: Yes, he was a real hero of the 1910 fires and a modest man. He is
53
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
credited with having saved the lives of a
fighters who, when they were overtaken by
ordered into a prospect tunnel mine tunnel with
guard at the entrance.
dozen or more fire
a rush of flames, were
Pulaski standing
That s all very well documented.
There s no
told him I
Yes, that s all well documented.
I asked Pulaski about it once and
to know some of the story, and he says, "Well
many times, every time I hear it,
I d better let you pick it up
use going into that,
was new and would like
it s been told so
it has gotten bigger, so maybe
from somewhere else."
I learned a great deal from Ed Pulaski. He was said to have been
a descendant of the famous Revolutionary War Pulaski. I had a num
ber of experiences with Ed Pulaski which added to my respect for
these old-timers who spent so much of their lives in the woods and
knew more about the woods and the behavior of forest growth than
we young fellows fresh from school. Although they perhaps didn t
know some of the basic principles, they did know some of the more
Important things when it came to managing a forest. These old-timers
were a very honest, hard-working lot.
Among these old-timers were fellows like Gus Yager, and then there
was Jack Winnington. He was more of a miner than a woodsman, how
ever. And Phil Neff. They were very interesting men. They were
very clever in handling the young technical personnel from the
eastern forestry schools.
Maunder: Are these stories part of the written literature?
Fritz: Some. Here s one, for example. Ranger Neff was in charge of the
Nelson Ranger Station. It was the finest house in the forest, a
two-or three-story building, and when I arrived there, I inquired
how come he has such a fine home when the other rangers do not.
Then I found out that he had been a contractor and builder, and
being a type of woodsman who knew how to "work the angles," and
knowing that he was allowed only $650 for putting up the ranger
station, he found ways to cut corners or to juggle labor so that
he was able to build himself a very fine home. It was a home which
this year would cost him $20,000 to build. At that time possibly
$3,500 could have built it, but on the books it was only $650. He
did it by taking some of the fire guards when they were not needed
on fire fighting, and he would go out and collect stones or saw
lumber and fit it and erect it and so on.
Another time was my first trip to Nelson Ranger Station with a
party which included Supervisor Wolff, the timber sale man, Calvin
A. Dahlgren, an entomologist, Jim Evenden, Gus Yager and several
others. We all rode out on a gas speeder from the end of the main
line of the railroad, and apparently without too much warning to
Phil Neff s wife for lunch. Of course, we couldn t carry lunches
54
Fritz: and there were no lunch rooms. It was the custom In those days to
have the ranger or his wife prepare the meals and bed us down. Neff
had four or five children, and his wife was a very courageous and
competent woman. She had very Ittle time to prepare lunch and
other meals for this big party. She had expected a smaller group.
Fortunately, one of the station men shot a good brace of grouse the
day before. It was my first taste of the deliciously meaty blue
grouse.
We were allowed to pay fifty cents, or was it thirty-five, per meal
to a ranger s wife when she prepared our meals. It was precious
little for the hard work, and I developed a wholesome respect for
the wife of the ranger because of the work they were expected to do
to help out their husbands without any additional compensation ex
cept for meals. They would have to handle the telephone calls while
the ranger was away and even rustle labor and get equipment ready
to ship out to them by pack train in emergencies. For none of this
did they receive any compensation at that time. I mention this
because 1 want to record the sizable contribution of ranger wives.
Another incident at the same ranger station: On one visit there was
some delay in getting me off by horse to the top of Grizzly Peak
from which I was to make a panoramic map, the first one to have
been made in the West. To use the time, I took pictures of trees
and of the ranger station in general. In the background of one
picture was a partially completed structure which was part of the
general scene.
Some weeks later when I returned to Coeur d Alene and the supervisor,
knowing I had photographs, asked to see them, he came rushing to my
desk and said, "What s this building in the background in this pic
ture of the Nelson Ranger Station?" I answered that I was told
that it was to be a new barn. The new barn had been completed only
up as far as the eaves, so Wolff, the supervisor, called in Gus
Yager, another ranger who was headquartered in Coeur d Alene but
who had been helping Neff in building some of the structures.
Wolff asked Yager, "What is this building in the background?" Yager,
straight-faced, told him that was the new barn. Wolff said, "Well,
I thought I allowed only enough money to put up the foundation."
Yager said, "That s right. All we ve got there is the foundation."
Wolff caught on right away and saw that the rangers had stretched
it a point, so he asked Yager, "How high is the foundation of a barn?"
And Yager said, "Well, sometimes a foundation goes up to the eaves,
just enough to hold up the roof." So Neff and Yager, by finagling
equipment and labor and time and putting in unquestionably a lot of
overtime, were able to put up the sldewalls on top of the completed
foundation and got by by calling it the "foundation." The next year
they were to get a little more money to put on the roof.
I mention that incident because it shows how difficult it was to
get quarters and money for buildings and how little the rangers had
55
Fritz: to work on. From my own observation, the rangers got the small
end of the stick when It came to providing the means for carrying
on their work. Yet they were the ones who did the field work.
Fry: The U.S.F.S. had much trouble with fraudulent homesteading on the
Coeur d Alene. Did you see any of this?
Fritz: Yes, just one really small thing, but to me it was very big at the
moment: to face a gun is not a pleasant experience. I met a man
on horseback armed with a shotgun. I was afoot and had just exited
from a side trail when he sighted me. It suddenly dawned on me that
he was one of the last homesteaders to defy the government and he
threatened to shoot any trespasser. It ties in with the application
of the Homestead Act to lands that are not truly of agricultural
character and should have been kept In a timber classification.
The northern Idaho country was well covered with valuable western
white pines. A number of people moved out from the white pine
region of the Lake States to the West to take up some of this land.
A man might take up 160 acres and his girl friend would pick up
another 160 acres. They would get married and have 320. The cost
was small $2.50 an acre which would make 320 acres of prime tim
ber land cost only $800. Most of the land was mountainous and not
suited for farming. Lumber companies were willing to pay anywhere
from ten to twenty thousand dollars for It, so If one could get
patent he would sell Immediately to a lumber operator.
When the Forest Service was organized, it examined a lot of these
claims which were still in the hands of the settlers. For itself,
it claimed that they were fraudulent, that the land was impossible
to farm. It was fraudulent in the sense that it could not be farmed,
but it was quite legal for homesteaders to take it up.
Some of the farmers fought it. To use the term, they were embattled
farmers. They were never organized, though. They gave the Forest
Service and all the men in it a bad time. I did not think It was
quite fair to these farmers. They were practically invited out there
to take up the 160-acre claim, and then they were kicked off.
Well, I was walking along a trail with my little pack and I saw a
smaller trail turn off to the right. It was away from the Coeur
d Alene River. I just wondered where the trail went because I was
trying to get thoroughly acquainted with the forest. I had every
map imaginable and available with me. 1 was making notes on these
maps to bring them up to date. I was adding trails that were not
marked on the map because I was being trained to be a fire chief of
that forest some day.
I got to the end of this trail, which went only about 150 feet. It
stopped at a spring and there was food in the spring to keep It cool.
I did not touch anything. I came right out again. I knew that there
was a homestead close by, and I thought, "Well, this settler is
56
Fritz: taking advantage of the spring," which was very much his right and
the smart thing to do.
When 1 came out to the main trpil, here was a man on horseback
with his gun across his lap pointed right at me. With very few
words he asked me, "What are you doing in there?" I told him
that I was wondering where this trail was headed and that I dis
covered the end at the spring, so I came out again.
Then he told me in no uncertain terms, "I don t want any Forest
Service men on my land." I had a badge, of course, so I was easily
identified. That badge could get you into a lot of trouble. It
carries a lot of authority with It, but ....
Fry: But at that point your authority was pretty far away.
Fritz: Yes. I had no gun, probably would not have used it if I did have
one. He told me that he did not want any Forest Service men on
his land, and he said, "This is my land!" Actually, the Forest
Service claimed it. I told him that I was on my way to some ranger
station, went on my way, and that was all there was to it. It was
a personal experience In how the thing worked. Every forester in
those days had something like that and some had much worse experi
ences.
Actually, it was not wholly fair. The Homestead Law practically
invited f raudulent ^"settl i ng." This law was not adapted to the
western mountain country because of its failure to regard terrain
and other factors. The man I met on the trail claimed his right
under the Homestead Law before the so-called "June llth" forest
homestead law was passed.
This little experience reminded me of my student days when I was in
a camp in Mississippi, where some of the backwoods farmers were very
suspicious of strangers. Shortly before we set up our camp, a far
mer shot and killed an agricultural agent who was dipping the
scrawny cattle to rid the animals of ticks. The farmers feared
dipping would "hex" the cattle. So they were not going to have
their cattle hexed, ticks or no ticks.
Maunder: Were you becoming disillusioned in forestry about this time?
Fritz: No, not on the Coeur d Alene. On the Coeur d Alene I enjoyed
every minute. Wolff was so friendly, and I got along so well with
the other men that I was very enthusiastic about the whole setup.
And of course, Coeur d Alene was a beautiful place for living. I
thought it would make an excellent university town, and later on
when I saw the University of Idaho at Moscow, I felt it was regret
table that the University was not built at Coeur d Alene.
There was a big lake and beautiful scenery. There was also a boat
club equipped with two four-oar shells, two pairs and two singles,
and having rowed at Cornell, I joined the boat club and was soon
57
Fritz: rowing in the fours and the pairs. But I never happened to be in
a boat for the two seasons I rowed that won anything but a heat,
but it was a lot of fun.
I also met my future wife there.
owned a canoe, and after
practice rowing in the morning before breakfast, and practice row-
ing between five o clock and dinner, I would
would go canoeing for the rest of the night.
a youngster.
call on her and we
Quite a workout for
Maunder: Were you married there?
Fritz: No. I had no intention of getting married, but you never can tell
what an infatuation develops into. That came later.
The work on the Coeur d Alene was extremely interesting. At first
I was quite disappointed at having been transferred or assigned to
fire work. Several times I thought about having spent two years
at Yale to become a forester, with silviculture as my main interest
at the time, and then to be made into a fire fighter on a national
forest. It didn t look good. But I soon learned that the protec
tion branch of the Forest Service was the only real job that the
Forest Service had. The rest of it was pretty much going around
in circles and marking time. There was some timber sale work, of
course, but not very much.
While I was on the Coeur d Alene I think it was in the fall of
the year a request came in from the Regional Office to make the
annual report on some plantations that were set out on the land
burned in the 1910 fires. Wolff said, "This is your job. As soon
as you can get out there, you go out and make an examination and
make the report. I don t think it amounts to a great deal because
in the past the plantations couldn t be found, and I believe that
most of them are dead."
So I looked up the old reports, and sure enough, I found that my
predecessors had not found some of the plantations and reported
them as lost. But I had to go out anyway to go through the motions
of preparing the report. Reports, of course, are very important in
any government office.
But I was not prepared for what I found. I actually located the ex
perimental plantations of various hardwoods hickory, oak, walnut,
basswood and others. The seedlings were only a foot high or slightly
more, and although they had no leaves on them, I readily identified
them; and when I looked up the old reports again, I noticed that all
of my predecessors had been trained in western forestry schools
where they didn t have an opportunity to become acquainted with
the bud characteristics or winter characteristics in general of
the eastern hardwoods, which were planted experimentally on the
Coeur d Alene burns. So it was no particular credit to me, but
with the training I had acquired at Yale from Jim Tourney and Sam
58
Fritz: Record on tree identification in the winter condition, I should
not have missed them anyway. But there were some conifer planta
tions that were still intact, especially Englemann spruce. They
were doing pretty well. But In general the plantations weren t
doing too well. Here and there there were some natural seedlings
coming up, and they seemed to thrive somewhat better, which gave
me my first experience in plantations from nursery-grown plants as
against naturally seeded.
Well, an interesting thing happened as a result of that report. I
had a lot of fun writing it and brought in a lot of details that I
had noticed and observed and felt they were important for someone
else who might follow me. But somebody in the Washington Office
apparently thought that here was a si I viculturist that was being
wasted on fire, so I was properly approached later the following
spring about a transfer to a forest experiment station in Arizona.
I thought it was a good opportunity to get into si I vicultural work
and also to see the forests in an entirely new Region, and so I
talked it over with Wolff. He kidded me quite a bit for being
asked to go to desert country, which I thought the country was my
self. Although I had studied something about the pine forests it
didn t make much Impression. But anyway he agreed to the transfer
and wished me we I I .
Before I left the Coeur d Alene, I prepared a number of memoranda,
each one on a different item of forest protection. For example,
one was on lookouts and the design of lookouts and the necessity
for the type of glass to be used, the obstructions from corners and
how they could be avoided, and water development, the height of the
towers to get over the trees, and also the numbering of mile posts
along trails and numbering these mile posts also on the maps so that
a lookout man could report a fire apparently on so-and-so canyon
along so-and-so trail near so-and-so mile post. I don t know if
this was ever effective on the Coeur d Alene Forest but I learned
later it was adopted on the Nezperce.
Maunder: Was this an innovation in the Forest Service at the time?
Fritz: It was new, at least to me. Whether anybody else had thought of it
and was responsible for its being adopted on one of the map systems,
I don t know.
Maunder: You ve never seen it written up anywhere?
Fritz: Only in my own memorandum. I also left, I think, a twenty-page or
more memorandum on the preparation of panoramic lookout maps. A
copy of that was sent to Bush Osborne, who apparently got the fire-
finder map idea from the New Hampshire people, and as a result of
my own memorandum he tried to work a panorama on his own fire-find
ing map, which was about the same diameter as mine.
These panoramic maps apparently didn t work out too well. Later
59
Fritz: on they used cameras for the same thing, but it developed that the
lookout men were so experienced in the terrain that they didn t use
the panorama anyway. By developing a system of trlangu I atlon and
better pinpointing of lookout rtatlons, the panorama wasn t actually
necessary.
That panoramic map method was written up in the TJmberman, and also
in the American Geographic Magazine, of which IsaVah Bowman was the
director. Bowman had given a course to the Yale Forestry students.
(He later became president of Johns Hopkins University. A very
fine man, very able man.)
Fort Val ley Experiment Station, Arizona
Maunder: When did you go to Arizona?
Fritz: I arrived in Arizona in August, 1916.
Maunder: What was your new assignment?
Fritz: My new assignment was as assistant In the experiment station. The
director was Gus Pearson, G. A. Pearson. I learned to love the
old fellow. In fact, he wasn t much older than I was. He was of
the class of 1907 or 08 of Nebraska, when Nebraska had a forestry
school. Incidentally, Pearson was left at that one station until
his retirement, and as far as I know, his is the only case where a
researcher was left at one place long enough to really learn the
local situation, and Pearson became an authority on ponderosa pine.
He and I became very good friends and we kept in touch with one
another until his retirement, and in fact, until his death. If
his widow is still living, I expect to visit her this coming Feb
ruary in Tucson.
The Fort Valley Experiment Station was about nine miles north of
Flagstaff at an elevation of about 7,250 feet, and Flagstaff I be
lieve was about 6,900. Above us loomed the San Francisco peaks,
one peak of which was 12,611 feet. It was really a beautiful coun
try and I loved it at once. It was like being stationed in a huge
park, but the fact that it looked like a park made it appear to me
that it was no place for forestry.
However, I had to change my mind on that because it was a very
good place to learn silviculture, primarily because the site fac
tors were not too good. The only good feature was that they had
some rains in the summertime, a total of about twenty-two or twenty-
three inches of precipitation for the entire year. But It was more
of a park-like stand of ponderosa pine up to about 7,500 or 8,000
feet. There the type changed to Douglas fir mixture, and then
higher up to spruce and white fir. The spruce forest was a very
dense dark one and I always enjoyed going up to it. We found that
60
Fritz: at about ten thousand feet. The timber line was about eleven
thousand feet.
It was a very interesting place for one to be stationed, especially
one who, like myself, wanted to eke out some more training or know
ledge of how vegetation develops. I recall going into the botany
of the region and there was one little plant known by the generic
name of Th I asp i a. The specific name was taken from the name of a
botanist and begins with "f." I can t think of it at the moment.
It sounds like "ferend." Anyway, I observed the plant at the sta
tion, and then decided that as long as I had to climb the mountain
once a week anyway, I would keep a record of the blooming of this
plant at different elevations over this altitudinal range. But
that was the following spring, so I m a little ahead of my story.
When I arrived in Flagstaff, I found Pearson very happy to have
some help. Apparently my predecessor had been away several months
before I was assigned. My predecessor was Clarence Korstian who
later became a research station director himself, and still later,
Dean of Forestry at Duke University.
The work at the station was largely working up data for the few
years past of measurements of sample plots. Of course, we had a
few sample plots to measure ourselves, but they were behind in
working up the data, solely because of inadequate help, and ! could
see that my entire winter would be spent in the office working up
this data.
Pearson was a very helpful man; he recognized the fact that his
assistants were dropping into something brand new and needed help.
Whenever we were out on trips by auto or afoot or on horseback,
he never missed a chance to point out something which had some sig
nificance in learning the silviculture or the si Ivies or the botany
of the region.
We lived in very nice little cottages. They were pretty thin-walled
and not too windtlght but they were heated by hot water from the
greenhouse. Having had some experience in pipe-fitting, I was able
to change the piping in my own house so that the radiators were in
better corners for heat distribution. I also had a chance to do some
pipe-fitting for water lines and insulation and electric light systems
and so on, and was very happy to be able to put into use some of my
early training in engineering.
I had to share the cottage with another assistant, Lenthall Wyman,
who later became a professor of forestry at North Carolina State
University. We were together most of the winter. Unfortunately,
in about February or March, he was transferred and thereafter, I
had to make the field trips alone, although we were ordered never
to go out alone on the snow.
Incidentally I m a little ahead there when the winter approached,
61
Fritz: Pearson had received authority to make a study of climatic condi
tions at various elevations. We started at an elevation of about
five thousand feet, somewhere on the desert or in the area of juni
per and pinion pine, and gradually worked up to about 10,500 feet.
I had to build the stations at 8,500 and 10,500. The others had
already been built. And it was my job then for the time during the
winter and my entire stay at the station to visit these weather
stations once every week to change the sheets on the recording
machines, to take note of the maximum temperatures and so on, to
refill the evaporation pans and whatnot.
It was a very interesting assignment and very illuminating. When
Pearson wrote his final report on that study, I felt quite happy
over the fact that he mentioned me as well as the other assistants
for the help we gave him. It was a pretty good demonstration of
personnel management: Pearson gave everybody credit whenever he
received help, no matter how slight it was. It was quite in con
trast to an article I had written for the Timberman magazine on
the round panoramic lookout map idea which I brought to Idaho from
New Hampshire. When the article actually appeared in the Timberman
magazine being a good soldier, I submitted it through the Regional
Office my name was cut off and the name of the Regional Forester
was put on, by some subordinate, no doubt.
Maunder: Who was the Regional Forester there?
Fritz: That was F. A. Si Icox, a very fine man. Also a Yale forester. He
was a very fine man indeed. He later quit the Forest Service for
some years. He had a sort of a sociological streak and he worked
for the typographers union in New York City, and then later, being
a friend of Rex Tugwel I during the New Deal days, he was returned
to the Forest Service as Chief Forester. If I think of it, I ll
make some comments about him a little later, which I think will
cast some light on the New Deal days.
Work at Flagstaff, as I said, was interesting and also enjoyable.
During Christmas week, the snows came. Of course, it was quite
cold. At six o clock in the morning sometimes in the winter, the
temperature dropped below zero, and the crust on the snow was so
thick that we could walk on it without snowshoes until about ten
o clock. The temperature rise from six o clock to about ten o clock
was really phenomenal. I don t remember the exact figures but while
at six o clock in the morning, water would freeze very quickly in
pans, by about ten o clock we could sit out on the snow in our
shirt sleeves.
It was an ideal climate. During the day in the winter, it was not
only bearable but pleasant, while in the summertime, the temperature
rarely rose above eighty-five degrees, and it was never humid. It
was an ideal climate. And having been reported to have had a touch
of tuberculosis as a young man, I felt that if the TB should ever
return, I would make the Flagstaff area my permanent home, but that
contingency never developed.
62
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
We spent the winter in the office working up the data. Ordinarily
I would have gotten pretty tired and fed up working up somebody
else s data, but the summation of every column gave enough informa
tion which for comparative purposes was illuminating; and Pearson
was on hand a big part of the time, until some time In January any
way, to help me interpret the data.
Of course, we had other duties around the Station. Somebody had to
go out about five o clock and turn off all the water from the ele
vated water tanks so they didn t freeze overnight, and we had to
build a fire in the tankhouse so the tank itself didn t freeze up.
We had other duties like that and of course, Pearson had a cow, a
personal cow, which he had to milk.
That leads me to say something about the management of experiment
stations in those days. Altogether too much time of the technical
personnel had to be devoted to typing letters and ordinary main
tenance work. I recall doing a lot of mechanical work myself
around the grounds, pipe-fitting, carpentry work, and so on. Even
tually, Pearson got a clerk who wasn t very good but nevertheless,
he was a clerk and he kept the accounts. In fact, Pearson always
had a clerk, I believe, to take care of the accounts. But we young
fellows still had a little to do.
Was this just merely a matter of lack of budget?
That s right. In other words, inadequate personnel.
In other words, they were trying to get the technical personnel to
double in brass and so cut down the overhead?
Yes. We didn t even watch the clock. We worked as long as we could
keep our eyes open sometimes to get the job done. On that Station,
we had a pump pumping water from a well to the tankhouse, and that
had to be operated. Pearson looked after that himself until some
time later when he was able for the first time to get a range helper
who was a sort of maintenance and operations man around the Station.
We also had a greenhouse, and the heating of the greenhouse was .
always a problem. And starting fires in the tankhouse, and various
jobs of that kind, took a lot of time. But they were probably a
good thing too because it took the curse off of sitting at the desk
for too many hours at a run just poring over figures.
When this ranger helper arrived, he turned out to be a man by the
name of Porcher. I think his first name was Frank. He was a native
of South Carolina, apparently from an old, old family, and he was a
very bad TB case. His wife had been a nurse and married him to look
after him. They were very much attached to one another.
He was transferred to the Experiment Station from somewhere in
California. We did not know that he was tubercular until he tried
63
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
to do some of the work. He tried valiantly but he couldn t make
It. From my office window, I would sometimes see him walk up a
slope from the pump house to the upper level gasping for air, and
when Pearson and I found out tht he was tubercular, we were pretty
sore at the smart cookie In California who transferred this man,
knowing what kind of work he was to do.
Didn t they have physical examinations for personnel?
Well, this man was already in the Forest Service, and possibly if he
had tuberculosis when he was employed, it wasn t detected.
Didn t they have periodic re-examinations?
Not that I remember.
What provisions were made for hospitalizing men in the Forest Service?
None whatever. Later on, I had to do Porcher s work and my own.
Pearson had been ordered to a detail in Washington, D.C., and was
to be away about three months It turned out to be nearly four
months and he left me in charge. There wasn t much responsibility
attached to It, except to continue the work we had started, the com
putations, and looking after the Station.
I had one of those experiences I i ke a lot of young men must have
had in the early days in the Forest Service when we had to double
in brass. The cow, of course, introduced some problems. Being a
city-bred boy, 1 didn t know which end of the cow gave the milk,
and I had assiduously stayed away from the milking job when we
moved to the country. Porcher, the ranger, had to do the milking
at the Station, and for doing It he got some of the milk. (I don t
remember whether Mrs. Pearson remained at the Station at this time
or moved to Flagstaff with their two children. She was the daugh
ter of a local Judge and a very fine lady.)
When I arrived at the Station, the clerk, who was not too bright
"anyway, came rushTng~ouT~ancf s a fdTrT broken English, "My God, Fritz,
the cow has just had a calf. What I I I do?" And I said, "Where is
the cow?" He said, "I got her in the stable." "Where is the calf?"
"The calf is in the stall next to the cow."
"Where did the cow have the calf?" He said, "Way down in the meadow.
She didn t come in at the regular time, so I looked around and when
I got down to the field, I found she had a calf. So I drove her and
the calf In."
Of course, when Pearson left for Washington, he had told me that the
cow was to have a calf on a certain day in April, but he expected to
be back. Actually, his detail in Washington was extended and he
didn t get back until late in April. So there was I with a sick
cow and a young calf on my hands, and I d never had that kind of
64
Fritz: an experience before. But I knew that the cow was a mammal and
that a calf would therefore suckle from Its own bag. I found out
the clerk knew less about it than I did he had separated the calf
from the cow and put the calf in another stall with a bale of hay.
I asked him what the hay was for, aiid he said, "Well, the calf has
to eat, doesn t it?"
CLaughterU
I thought, "Hell s bells, I didn t eat meat when J_ was born, and
I had to be fed on a bottle, so the calf must be in the same boat."
So 1 put the calf with the mother, and although the cow was a big
animal and had very large teats, she kicked that calf clear out of
the stable because her teats had been very badly chapped. This
was in the cold winter and April was still cold. (April 15th, we
had thirty inches of snow, and on Decoration Day, I planted trees
in a light snowstorm.)
I brought the cow out of the barn where I could get at her and
started to work to find out how I could get some milk out of her.
Her udder was tight as a drum, and I thought, "That can t be right."
The cow was as hot as a firecracker all over and breathing heavily,
so I thought she might be sick. She wouldn t let the calf anywhere
near, so I started to try to milk her. Knowing nothing about it,
she promptly heaved me out of the stable too with a quick push.
I thought, "Well, she s probably in pain. The teats are pretty
badly chapped," so I got some lard and rubbed it over her teats,
and after a little while they were quite soft and then she didn t
kick up so much when I touched her. But to get some milk out was
a different story.
Finally, I figured out there must be valves inside just like there
would be in any pump system, so I figured out where the valves ought
to be and pretty soon I had a stream of milk going and pretty well
filled a pail. Then I let the calf go in with the cow and the mother
accepted the ca I f .
There s a little part of humor to that. When Pearson got back, he
had quite a laugh over this city boy who had this midwifery thrust
upon him, but I asked him, "How is the cow? Do you think she ll
pull through?" And he said, "You did everything right except that
I wanted the calf weaned early."
I said, "How in the devil do you do that?" He showed me how one
puts his finger in the pail and crooks the finger and lets part of
it stick out so that the calf grabs the finger and thinks it s a
teat and gradually he gets in the habit of drinking out of a pail.
Well, that s something else I learned. Anyway, that was just one
of the examples of some of the details that one had to work out
for himself in those days, especially at the Stations.
65
Maunder: Was this tubercular case allowed to go on milking the cow? He
surely knew what his trouble was, didn t he?
fritz: He certainly did. He told us himself,
Maunder: Wasn t that running a great risk, exposing the rest of the people
on the Station?
Fritz: Yes, it was, but we didn t pay so much attention to those things
in those days. In fact, we didn t know so much about them as we
do now. But it was very unfair on the part of whoever it was in
the Forest Service to transfer the man to anything but very light
duty. It was very we I I known what the work would be.
It gave me my first indication of what I still think of as hypoc
risy on the part of people who claim to be interested in the country
and also in other people. It s true of the churches; it s true of
the universities; it s true of business; it s true of public ser
vice. But it hit me rather hard because by going to the Forestry
School at New Haven, I at least for a while had taken up a little
different viewpoint on work.
Maunder: You were imbued with a high degree of Idealism?
Fritz: Yes, and I got to feeling that maybe only industry is selfish, a
thing apart from other people, and that the business people have
no Interest in the country at all. I acquired that after I started
studying forestry; certainly, I didn t have it as an engineer. It
was some few years after that that I learned my mistake.
There were several instances that came to my attention at Fort
Valley that made me feel that the Forest Service is not the altru
istic organization which I had thought it was.
Maunder: What were some of these other experiences?
Fritz: it was like anywhere else, dog-eat-dog and each one for himself. When
the summer came, we had a succession of visitors from Washington who
came out on so-called inspection trips, and I can t figure out to
this day what good they accomplished, but they carried something
away for themselves and left very little. Raphael Zon was one of
the visitors. Sam Dana was another. Sam Dana, however, was a
serious man, and we really got quite a bit out of the discussions
we had with him.
Maunder: He made some real contribution to the life and experience of the
Station by his visit?
Fritz: Yes, he did. Zon made no contribution. He was critical all the
time.
Then, of course, there was H. H. Chapman. He was at that time on
leave from the Yale Forest School and was the assistant district
66
Fritz: forester In charge of silviculture. He was out visiting the Sta
tion, and having only recently graduated from the school myself,
we had some long conversations. Chapman revealed some facets of
himself which I had only suspec+ed before. During the entire time
he was at the Station, I would say ne contributed nothing whatso
ever to the progress of the work, but he kept up a running comment
about how things were going wrong in the Regional Office and how he
was going to correct them.
We took him up to the weather station on the San Francisco Mountains,
and while we were there he wanted to go clear to the top, so I es
corted him clear to the peak. We sat up there under the lee of the
peak overlooking the Painted Desert, and he continued his criticism
of how the Forest Service is run and how he is trying to cure it,
and possibly by his frankness he led me into saying some things
that I possibly shouldn t have said about the way a ranger had
been transferred who was useless to us.
I also discussed another instance which I haven t mentioned before.
It was thought when I was transferred to Fort Valley that I would
be promoted to a forest examiner from the rating of forest assis
tant and given, I believe, a two-or three-hundred dollar raise. The
amount of money I got in those days didn t make much difference to
me because I had enough to live on and was not married and figured
that everything that I was doing for the first four or five years
would be for experience anyway, so I wasn t put out by it.
But when Chapman came, he showed me a letter which had been received
from the Washington Office In which the statement appeared, "If
Fritz does not make too much complaint about not being promoted
to forest examiner, don t let him have it," or words to that ef
fect. That was an improper thing for Chapman to do, and it made me
pretty sore that the Forest Service should have such an attitude
toward its own employees when publicly it was preaching such high
ideals in public service.
Maunder: Who had signed this letter, your superior there at Flagstaff?
Fritz: No. Without my knowing it, Pearson was trying to get me the pro
motion and so was someone at the Regional Office in Albuquerque,
but in Washington, it was vetoed.
Maunder: Was Chapman breaching discipline by showing you this letter?
Fritz: I didn t think it was proper. Although I was glad to see it, I
thought It was an Improper thing for a man in Chapman s position
to do.
Maunder: Why do you suppose he showed you this, to Induce you to make
statements?
Fritz: No, I don t think so. Chapman has always been even more so In
67
Fritz: later years one who loved to have something to criticize somebody
else on. He would criticize his own grandmother if she were alive.
And he certainly enjoyed criticizing people in his own office, on
his own staff at the Yale Forest School. He was very unfair In
his criticism, and I think oftentlcos criticized without knowing
a 1 1 the facts.
Maunder: How do you account for the fact that he rose to positions of im
portance which depended in part on persona! popularity in elections
and things of that sort?
Fritz: He had a lot of drive, a lot of energy, and he forced himself into
a lot of situations. He could easily work up any problem into an
issue in no time, and I think a lot of men, in the Forest Service
at least, were afraid of him while the others thought that he was
just a character to be enjoyed. I had a very unfortunate experience
with him later on, several in fact, in the I930 s and thereafter,
which made me break with him that is, on a friendly basis.
Maunder: What were these?
Fritz: If you want them at all, I ll come to them later.
Maunder: All right, although they might hold together better at this stage
of the Interview than In a purely chronological account.
Fritz: Chronologically they would come later, but I don t want to mention
that unless you think it would be of interest.
68
IV WORLD WAR I AIR SERVICE
Fritz: While I was at Fort Valley, the Unhed States entered the First
World War. I think It was April 6, 1917. It was when Pearson
was away In Washington and had left me in charge.
The day after war was declared, or two days later, it was my un
pleasant duty to take the ranger and his wife to Flagstaff and put
them on the train; his illness had become so that he couldn t work.
His wife was quite incensed over the treatment he had gotten by
being transferred to a Station where he had heavy work to perform
whereas he should have had light duty, and she took it out on the
Station personnel. On the way to the station at Flagstaff, nine
miles, I had to submit to a running comment as to what a bad deal
her husband got, but I had to keep my mouth shut more or less be
cause it was none of my business and I wasn t responsible for any
thing there anyway. In fact, I had tried to make his job lighter
by doing some of the work for him.
While in Flagstaff on that trip, I called on John D. Guthrle who
was supervisor of the Coconlno National Forest, having heard that
he was making up a company of foresters to go into service to get
out lumber and wood for the armed forces In France. So I told
Guthrle that I would be glad to join his outfit If and when it was
official ly set upi
Another man on that forest who was on Guthrie s staff was E. T. F.
Wohlenberg, who later became quite a figure. He was to be given a
lieutenancy, I believe, and all the officer assignments had al
ready been doled out, so I was made a sergeant.
When I got back to the Station, I was thinking about it, and I
thought how foolish to get into a unit which is going to fight the
war with an axe and a saw, when my idea of fighting a war was with
something that had a little more kick to it. So I telephoned Guth-
rie and told him I was going to withdraw my agreement with him to
go into his outfit it wasn t an enlistment anyway and that I was
going to try to get into the artillery.
Maunder: What did you finally do In regard to World War I?
Fritz: I put in an application right away for military training camp. The
Arizona and New Mexico boys were to have been sent to the Presidio
in San Francisco. According to the newspapers, something happened
that left the boys from Arizona and New Mexico completely out of
the first camp through some error, I believe; but we all received
word that we would be given the first chance at the second officers
training camp which was to be held at Fort Leon Springs in Texas,
and I made that all right.
When I arrived, I found In the artillery with me was Stanley Wilson,
69
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
one of my Yale classmates. We were in the same battery or adjoin
ing batteries throughout the training camp, and I came out of that
with a first lieutenancy with the artillery. I was given two weeks
leave with the rest of the graduates and went to Baltimore. I tele
graphed my flance eln Coeur d Alene to meet me In Baltimore, and we
were married there.
What was your fiancee s name?
She was Esther Phillips. She was one of the clerks in the office
in the Forest Service in Coeur d Alene. Her brother, by the way,
is Roy Phillips, one of the heroes in the 1910 fires. He had an
experience similar to Pulaski s, and
several different forests. He s now
Ari zona.
later he became supervisor of
retired and living in Phoenix,
Maunder: Was your unit sent overseas after you got married?
Fritz: While I was in Baltimore on leave, as I said, I got married and
promptly went back to San Antonio to take up duties as a newly
commissioned officer, but on arrival, I found that my name was
posted with about five hundred others who were transferred to the
newly organized air service the Air Arm of the Signal Corps, as
It was called in those days. I didn t like it at all, but we were
told that it meant an early shipment to France, and that took off
some of the curse because we learned that the others would be in
the States possibly for six months more, trai n ing troops.
The artillerymen were all given commands of squadrons because the
artillery outranked the infantry. So when I reported at Kelly
Field, I found my squadron which was then called the 118th, and
later became known as the 639th and I found myself with ten lieu
tenants and one captain medical officer and 150 recently recruited
soldiers, all of them volunteers.
After a few days, we had been prepared for overseas shipment and
went by train from Kelly Field to Garden City, New York. This was
in late December. I think it was around New Year s week. It was
frightful ly cold, and even on the streets of New Orleans, there
was ice. When we left Kelly Field, we were in a violent sandstorm
and I think I took some of the Texas sand all the way to France
with me In my overcoat.
To give the men exercise, I took them off the train at New Orleans
and marched them through some of the downtown streets and dis
covered there was ice on the streets from the cold. All the way
up to Garden City, we were bothered by cold and our pul Iman cars
were frozen up solid. Toilet facilities were inoperative. Some
of the men came down with mumps, and some had worse illnesses and
were taken off the train here and there, and at Garden City I lost
possibly a total of twenty-five. They were replaced with men who
had been drafted.
70
Maunder: Did your forestry training ever find any use during the war?
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
While I was in France, I did very little to keep abreast of for
estry and very rarely even called on French foresters. I think
that was an evidence that I felt I was through with forestry. I
was getting more and more interested In airplanes, an interest
which dated to the day I saw the Wright brothers attempt to make
their flight, at Fort Myer in Virginia, to impress the Army suf-
ficently to purchase one of their planes.
After the war, I felt that, being rather bad off as to nerves, I
should take the university job and hold it for a few years, think
ing that I could recover more rapidly on that kind of a job than in
the more rigorous work of an engineer, so I accepted the university
bid in the School of Forestry.
Emanuel, you say you had a bad case of nerves,
of your war experience?
Was that a result
"training" flight,
French or
Yes, entirely so. I was never in combat, although the neighboring
airfields had been bombed several times, and our own field was
under observation regularly, but I believe I had too many different
duties. The Colonel, C. C. Benedict, a West Pointer, was a very
fine man. Our station was the field from which pilots and observers
were sent direct to the front.
I had command of one of seven squadrons, all airplane mechanics, a
total of 1000 or 1200 men. The Colonel asked me to serve also as
assistant Post Adjutant, Maintenance Officer and Commander of the
Headquarters Detachment of 120, plus or minus, pilots and observers.
This latter job was a tough one. The fliers were all young and full
of beans and vinegar and eager to see action. They commandeered
cars and motorcycles and occasionally took off on a
only to make a "forced landing" at a friendly field of
English squadrons. I inquired why I was selected. The answer was:
"I need somebody to say NO when a car or cycle was requested." It
was hard to say NO to young fellows who couldn t guess how many days
of life were left to them.
At the same time, I put in an application to have my own squadron
changed from a Post engineering squadron for the maintenance of air
planes to a combat squadron. Although the request was aporoved all
the way along the line, through General Pershing s office and to
Washington, when it got into the hands of the Secretary of War after
many weeks, the end of the war was apparently so close that the ap
plication was denied. I thought it was rather unfortunate because
the squadron developed into an excellent crew of airplane mechanics.
It was probably that experience with the planes that made me more
firmly convinced I should go back to engineering.
Maunder: What were you doing? Were you servicing planes coming back off
front I ine service?
71
Fritz: Well, the first field was near Tou I , in the Department of Meuse.
At that field there was nothing but a farm, and my squadron had
to start with picks and shovels to prepare a field. From that
field, when It was completed, wore made the first American flights
over the lines photographic mlssloi.3 and artillery reg I age . (We
used a lot of French terms in our work at that time.)
We were moved to a bombing field for a very short time, and it was
from that field that the famous 96th Squadron took off and never
came back, every plane landing in Germany with its bombs in the
racks. They ran out of gas against a head wind. The very next
day, a German pilot flew low over our field. Whenever a German
did that, we knew that he had a message to deliver. When the boys
picked up the message, tied to a very small parachute, it read some
thing like this: We thank you for the very fine brand new Breguets
(daylight French bombers) and we anticipate great pleasure in as
sociating with your fine young flyers and observers, but what in
hell will we do with the Major? In those days there was a lot of
chivalry between the pilots of opposing forces, and many times when
a pilot ran out of ammunition, he d signal to the German, or vice
versa, that he couldn t fight any more, and the enemy d wave his
hand and they d both go back to their fields.
I was never a flyer but I flew many times with the engineer officer,
which I felt was a necessity since my men were helping to service
the planes and keep them flying. One of the saddest duties of my
job of being in charge of the headquarters detachment was to bury
the pilots and observers when they were killed not In combat, but
in a training accident.
This was the third field of which I m speaking now, which was a
Second Corps Aeronautical School. We finally built up to about
1200 men and 125 planes. At this field, the observers got their
final training in photography missions and some gunnery and aerial
combat, and also in artillery control. We had no two-way radio
then; all the signaling was done from the air to the ground with
some kind of crude radio, but from the ground back to the air,
there was nothing. The pilots had to fly by signals from the
ground usually strips of muslin laid on the ground.
Maunder:
Were you
American
associated
f I fers?
in this experience with any of the great
Fritz: Indirectly. The 94th and 95th Squadrons, which were pursuit squad
rons, were at an adjoining field. In these squadrons were such
pilots as Major Raoul Lufberry, the famous ace, and Eddie Ricken-
backer, and a young man by the name of Donald Campbell, who, I learned
later, when I came to the University of California, was the son of
the man who, in 1923, became President of the University of Califor
nia. There was also Leonard Hammond, who was an ace. He was the son
of A. B. Hammond, the principal owner and president of the Hammond
Lumber Company. I became closely associated with Leonard Hammond
72
Fritz: in California on forestry matters until his untimely death from
leukemia In the early I940 s.
Maunder: You were on sick leave, were you, from your squadron when you came
back to this country?
Fritz: No, I was never on sick leave. I was ordered on sick leave, and to
some kind of a rehabilitation outfit at Nice in southern France.
But I didn t want to leave my squadron because it might have been
ordered back to the States almost any time. Because I was with them
from the start and we were a close-knit unit, I wanted to be sure
their records were in good shape, so I declined that.
But the nerves got worse, and when I finally got back to the States
in May or early June and had my men discharged and it was then the
turn of the officers to be discharged, I was ordered then to the
post hospital for observation and eventual transfer to Cooperstown,
where the Air Force had a recuperation hospital. I learned that
many of the patients there were what we called "gold brickers,"
who wanted to be on the government payroll a little longer. I
decided it wouldn t be any good for me, and I could recover more
quickly on a job as a teacher. So I asked for release from that
and was promptly given my discharge and permitted to leave.
Although during the war, I had become more firmly convinced that
for my own good I should return to engineering, nevertheless, I had
a very soft spot for forestry. It happened that while I was on a
hospital bed in January, 1919, I received a letter from the Univer
sity of California and in the same mail one from Mr. G. A. Pearson,
for whom I worked in Arizona and who was the Director of the Fort
Valley Forest Experiment Station. Both letters offered me jobs pay
ing exactly the same amount, but I had determined that if I did go
back into forestry, I would not return to federal service. As a
result, I accepted the bid from the University of California. (In
fact, the University had asked me to come there to teach sawmill ing
and wood technology back In 1916, but because of the imminence of
war, I had decided to hold off and asked them to forget about my
teaching. )
Well, the army story doesn t have much to do with all this. I might
say that before I went into the Army, I had sent In my Forest Ser
vice resignation to the Regional Office In Albuquerque. I think it
was even before war was declared. And they asked me to reconsider,
but I had gotten fed up not with the work, but with the personnel
practices of the Forest Service.
In those days everybody in the Regional Offices and also in the
Washington Office was not much older than the men in the field, and
in my opinion, ninety percent of them were jumped to responsible
jobs before they were really ready. They took a very bureaucratic
attitude too early in life.
73
Fritz: Some of these men were In top offices until their retirement and
never got out of that bureaucratic attitude. In fact, they got
worse.
After war was declared, I submitted my resignation again, and this
time I had the much better excuse that I wanted into the military
service, and 1 received a very cordial letter of congratulations
and so on from the Regional Forester, who was F. C. W. Pooler.
74
PINCHOT AND FEDERAL REGULATION
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Now, Emanuel, I d like to ask you a question regarding World War I
and the period Immediately thereafter. Did the war have any in
fluences on the character of forestry employment on Industry s
attitude toward employing foresters?
If it had any effect, I think It was very small except for one view
point, and that is the fact that so many lumbermen and foresters
were thrown together in that huge regiment known as the 20th Engi
neers (Forest). That regiment had, I believe, 25,000 men. It was
the largest regiment the country ever set up.
The men were scattered all over France, and their job was to cut
down trees and manufacture them into crossties and trench timbers,
lumber for cantonments and so on. Some of those men who were for
esters joined private companies after their discharge, and some of
the loggers and lumbermen went back to their companies with some
understanding of what forestry is all about. So from that point
of view it had some effect.
Beyond that, I should say that foresters had to make their own way,
they had to create jobs. Some forestry graduates, of course, had
a bent for private employ even while they were In school and took
employment at anything that was available sometimes engineering
work, sometimes logging.
However, I m glad to say that many of them retained their forestry
ideas and principles as to what could be done in the woods at very
little, If any, expense, and they very gradually worked themselves
Into very prominent positions where they could actually do some
thing. Outstanding among those was Swift Berry. He was in the
Forest Service for many years but resigned in the mid-Twenties to
go with the Michigan-California Lumber Company. He gradually worked
up to the managership of that company and, I believe, a vice-presi
dent. When he was retired, he shortly thereafter became a California
state senator.
Then there was Richard Colgan. He joined the Diamond Match Company.
When a man in those days quit forestry, whether it was with the fed
eral service, the state or a university, to go with a private company,
he was looked upon as having left the fold and to have gone over to
the enemy. That was even said of Colonel Greeley when he quit the
chief forestership to become secretary-manager of the West Coast
Lumbermen s Association in 1928.
Were more jobs in private industry made available to professional
foresters after the war?
Fritz: There were always jobs in the lumber industry for foresters not to
75
Fritz: practice forestry, but to do some of the work that was necessary
In the lumber Industry. It was unfortunate that more foresters
didn t make the changeover like Dick Colgan and Swift Berry, be
cause they sold their Ideas to +helr principals, and, in turn,
they gradually got the logging personnel sold on a different method
of logging.
In California, for example, I remember that Swift Berry and Dick
Colgan were looked down on for a while because they quit what the
others called "the profession of forestry," and yet these men did
so much in their companies that they became top men and were able
to change their companies attitude completely from liquidation to
operation designed to achieve permanence.
Maunder: Going back to this World War I period and the period right after
it, this was a time In which PInchot was no longer affiliated
directly with the Forest Service. Yet, as you say, he was having
quite a considerable Influence. How was he doing this and what
channels was he using to exert this influence?
Fritz: Pinchot was influential until the time of his death. Pinchot, as
I believe I stated earlier, had a magnetic personality and a great
deal of energy. He had wealth, and he could indulge In activities
which were denied a man without that kind of money. It brought
him, as you may remember, the governorship of Pennsylvania for two
terms, and he spearheaded several studies and was a frequent speaker.
I recall distinctly one talk he made in 1940. If you re interested
in that, I ll make some comments on it.
He gave that talk before the Society of American Foresters at their
annual banquet in Washington in 1940. Pinchot had a great many
friends and close adherents in the Forest Service men like Earle
Clapp, Raphael Zon, Ray Marsh, Chris Granger, and Dana Parkinson.
They were all fine men, up to a point; as to their philosophies,
they believed in force, and they couldn t see that anyone else
could have any knowledge of the subject but themselves, and they
were going to force themselves and their philosophies on others.
As you know now, that didn t work out. In the case of Earle Clapp,
he even tried to force his philosophy on the schools. He tried to
get the schools to adopt the Forest Service approach and practically
be under the control of the federal Forest Service. He was badly
defeated on that by the school men themselves because school men
want and should have absolute Independence of any outside influence,
whether it s public or private, as long as they are constructive.
Maunder: How did Clapp go about this? How were his efforts rebuffed?
Fritz: When Earle Clapp was acting Chief Forester, he wrote a letter to all
regional foresters and heads of experiment stations, requesting them
to influence the forestry schools to slant their forestry teaching
in favor of federal regulation (the U.S.F.S. policy). The
76
Fritz: ever-watchful H. H. Chapman got hold of a copy through his private
underground. Copies were mailed broadcast among foresters. It
created a furor. It was socialism reduced to a dictatorship and
gradually died out.
Maunder: What was Pinchot s vehicle for exerting this influence? Was it
purely this little group of his loyal supporters still remaining
in the Forest Service, or was it the Society of American Foresters
or any other conservation group he was a member of?
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Pinchot was chairman of the first committee, as I recall it, in
1919 to start the ball rolling toward a regulatory law.
Chairman of a committee of what group?
I don t recall the name. The Journal of Forestry contains the
story in one of its early 1920 numbers" Pinchot s name was magic
among foresters and anathema among lumbermen. We must say that
Pinchot s motives and those of his cohorts were good. Their method
of approach, I think, was entirely wrong.
I used to look at It something like this: If you were a salesman
trying to sell a new product to a new prospect, you certainly would
not go into his office and call the man a name right away and antago
nize him. You would be friendly and you would try to tell him that
the product you were selling would be helpful to him, that the cost
would be recovered plus some extra return, that he could do his job
better, more cheaply, and he would survive better in the competitive
field.
But foresters didn t do that. They put on the gloves and they went
right at It, and that, of course, developed great opposition among
the timberland owners and the operators, from which the profession
of forestry is still suffering.
This committee which you spoke of which Pinchot headed up right
after World War I that was a committee of what group?
Principally foresters. I believe it was all foresters, from my
recollection. I was interested In it only in an incidental way.
Was it a self-appointed group, or was it a group duly appointed by
an established agency or association?
It was a Society of American Foresters committee. In fact, I believe
it was wholly a committee of the Society of American Foresters, and
In turn they got Congress to have a study made. It was one of the
earliest studies of that kind and was followed later by the Copeland
Report.*
*U.S. Department of Agriculture:
Forestry ("Copeland Report"), 2 vols.,
1st Session, 1933.
National Plan For Amer i can
S. Doc. 12, 73rd Congress, "~
77
Fritz: The last one was The Timber Resources Review, which purported to
be merely a statistical study of the present situation as to lum
bering, timber and forestry. But the data was generally Inter
preted by the Forest Service to suit its own desires, and I m very
sorry to say that I believe this is the case today with the so-called
Timber Resources Review Report.
Maunder: Is this a condition, in your estimation, that has always been pres
ent in the resources reviews and reports?
Fritz: In general, yes, at least up to the present (1958). There are new
men in the Forest Service, considerably younger men than my age
class, some of whom have adopted the tactics of the old-timers.
I ve got to say something about those old-timers. They were men
of excellent character, excellent ideas, and they were sacrificing
something. They could have done better in other fields but thev
elected to crusade in behalf of the better management of tinber-
lands.
However, they were almost wholly ignorant of history and economics.
If they had only sat down to ask themselves why the situations were
such as they were, they would have been better able to make recom
mendations.
Now, I feel that Pinchot and his people did a great job while he
was Chief in contacting several timber owners and making manage
ment plans. They are all pre-1910, as I recall, and are now museum
pieces. Not one ever amounted to anything or was adopted, but never
theless they were good for their time. The times were just not ripe
for the application of such plans.
However, I believe the lumber industry could have done a great deal
at no cost whatsoever if it had not been antagonized. There were
a few, of course, like the Hardtners in Louisiana who absorbed
some of it and went off on their own- at first without any support or
sympathy from the foresters. When a lumberman in those days said
that he was going to do something in his woods, he was promptly
laughed at and held suspect. If he kept quiet and after five or
ten years, showed that he was actually doing something in the woods,
he was acclaimed.
Maunder: Did the war years carry with them certain regulatory provisions for
cutting practices to provide raw materials needed in the war?
Fritz: There was no regulatory law passed before or after World War I, but
there were many efforts. The first one was started by 61 f ford Pin
chot and his followers, before the war was hardly cold. I recall
that many foresters lined up with him.
A report was prepared I ve forgotten the name of it but I ll fill
It in later when I go over the text which castigated the lumber
industry and made some wild statements about an Impending timber
78
Fritz: famine.* It scared a lot of lumber people, of course, and made
some others feel that maybe they were missing a bet by net
buying more standing timber to ward off for themselves a famine
of logs for their sawmills. Those men got badly burned. Even
before the war, you ll remember, Pi^chot spoke frequently about
an impending timber famine. This stimulated some lumber people
to go out and invest in standing timber with the expectation
that timber was going to be very scarce. Some of them had to
hold that timber for thirty or forty years and pay taxes on it
all that time with no return on their money. Some of them had
to sell for what they paid for it. A few others did very well
by holding on.
Unfortunately, it created a very bad impression of foresters
among lumbermen. I think the forestry profession is still
suffering from that, and I m very much afraid that the publicity
and the propaganda that has gone out as an interpretation of the
Forest Service Timber Resources Review released this year (1958)
might return some of that antipathy on the part of lumberman
towards foresters as being unreliable forecasters.
U.S. Department of Agriculture: Timber Resources for America s
Future. Forest Resource Report No. 14 (Washington, D.C. : U.S. Government
Printing Office, January 1958.)
79
VI TEACHING AT UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA IN THE TWENTIES
Courses
Fry: When you decided to come to the University of California, there
were two men on the faculty that you knew before, Donald Bruce and
David T. Mason. Did they influence you to come?
Fritz: Yes, I knew both while I was in the Forest Service in Missoula,
Montana. In fact, Mason was my boss there and earlier was the one
who encouraged me to come West to help him on a study of the lum
ber industry. (I had declined two jobs offered me by the U.S.F.S.
when Mason wrote me stating that one is permitted only three offers.
My New Hampshire job was near its end, so I accepted.) The report
on that study was not published until after World War I. It was a
valuable experience for one who later was to teach lumber manufac
turing.
To gather information for the Mason report, I had to travel to the
sawmills of the Inland Empire, spending a week or more at each. I
visited the offices of a lot of pine companies in Idaho and eastern
Oregon, and two in eastern Washington. After all the condemnation
of lumber people I had read and heard while a student, it came as a
pleasant surprise to find the Inland Empire managers and assistants
such cordial and cooperative men.
One day the manager of a large company, A. W. Laird, passed my desk
and asked how I was getting along and if I was getting the coopera
tion I needed from his staff. After I told him it could not be
better, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "We like to help
the Forest Service field men from Missoula and give them all the
data we have for use in their studies, but we are never sure of the
fairness of the officials in Washington."
Bruce, Joseph Kittredge, Steve Malvern, and I were in the same of
fice, all of us assistants to Mason in that study. All came to
California. But I have wandered from your question.
Yes, Mason recommended me to Walter Mulford to teach wood technology
and lumber manufacturing. After my assignment with Mason in Mis
soula ended, June 30, 1915, I was transferred to the Coeur d Alene
National Forest in northern Idaho. Shortly thereafter, Mason and
Bruce resigned from the U.S.F.S. and came to Berkeley to help Mul
ford organize the Division of Forestry of the College of Agricul
ture, as it was then known. Thirteen months later I was transferred
to Arizona.
In the summer of 1917, I was invited by Mulford to call on him for
an interview. I went to Berkeley from Arizona and while there, Mason
80
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
invited me to his home for dinner where I met Ansel Hall and
Knowles Ryerson, both of them seniors in forestry. I was inter
ested but told Mulford I was planning soon to enter Officers
Training Camp and would not be jvailable until after the war.
Mulford renewed his offer in January, 1919, and I accepted.
The
you
lumber
think?
industry was pretty much behind the Mason report,
Yes indeed. They would appear and participate in
In support of it?
discussions.
Yes. They thought it a good thing and they offered help in any
way we asked.
And then you went to California?
Yes. Returning from France and after a short visit with my relatives
in Baltimore, 1 went back West by train to take up my duties at the
University of California. My wife had spent the war period in Wash
ington as a secretary to one of the Ordnance Department Colonels.
After the Armistice she went to Florida to stay with her folks.
When I returned to the States from France, in May, 1919, she came
to Garden City, Long Island, New York (Mitchel Field) to meet me.
I had to remain to muster out my squadron and then in June, I was
discharged.
My wife accompanied me to Baltimore and then to California. En
route we stopped at Flagstaff, Arizona, where I spent a day with
my pre-war boss, the great G. A. Pearson, director of the Fort Val
Forest Experiment Station.
ley
Incidentally, while I was hospitalized in France for an appendec
tomy, I received letters from both Mulford and Pearson, each offer
ing a job and at identical salaries, $2,000. My choice was easy.
I did not like federal employ and was really not suited for it by
temperament, being an ingrained private enterpriser. But I looked
upon the California job as temporary, perhaps three or four years,
or until I could get my nerve system under control again. Although
I loved forestry, my training was mostly (and better for) engineer
ing, and I had a yen to return to it. But I am glad I stayed at
the University and in forestry.
Emanuel, when you made the transition from work in the federal ser
vice to work in the field of teaching at the University of Cali
fornia after World War I, how did your friends in the Forest Service
feel about your decision? Was there any comment about it?
I don t think there was any feeling against it.
most foresters felt it was a good idea for field
into teaching. I had resigned from the U.S.F.S.
Rather I think that
foresters to go
before I was
81
Fritz: offered the University of California professorship. It was the
policy of the Forest Service at that Hmo to rafher welcome n man
leaving Ms own service to go even Into private employ because
they felt It "spread the gospel" of forestry.
In my own case, I was early disillusioned as to the necessity for
crusading, and I felt the indirect methods were entirely wrong. I
made a very definite break in 1924 with that particular group of
foresters who tried to advance forestry by threats of socialistic
legislation and by name-calling.
Maunder: And that was in 1919?
Fritz: Yes, 1919. My duty at the University of California was to begin
on July I. Since it was the vacation period and no students were
in prospect until August, I didn t arrive until the middle of the
month. Almost immediately I made a field trip at the suggestion
of Professor Walter Mulford, who was head of the School at the time,
to acquaint myself with the pine and redwood regions of the state.
(The teaching began in mid-August at that time.)
Maunder: Were the courses that you taught that first year, courses that were
already well established in the curriculum of the Forest School or
were they new courses?
Fritz: They were standard courses for foresters. One was on lumber manu
facturing (officially titled "Forest Utilization"). The other course
was "Wood Technology." They had already been set up, but the School
was new. It was organized in 1914 and had less than a dozen stu
dents at that time. The professor who had started the courses,
Merritt Pratt, was more of a field forester than a sawmill man or
a wood technologist, so I practically had to start from scratch.
Pratt resigned to become State Forester of California.
Incidentally, I gave those two courses continuously for the entire
thirty-five years I was on the faculty, constantly changing and im
proving them. Both gave me a chance to employ my mechanical engi
neering training in Baltimore and at Cornell. My title was assis
tant professor of forestry. However, I never taught forestry as a
course except to pinch-hit for others occasionally. So although
I had quit engineering for forestry, I was tossed right back into
it.
Both were technical courses. Wood technology included wood anatomy,
i.e., how wood is made up of cells, how the cells are arranged, how
the cell pattern can help one to identify the wood and get an in
dication of some of its characteristics. The course included also
the properties of wood, physical, mechanical and chemical, all re
lated to the cell structure. It was a very interesting course and
I enjoyed very much giving it. (For almost ten years it was re
quired of criminology majors because wood is often involved in a
crime. This made me a member of the criminology faculty also.)
82
Fritz: As a matter of fact, I first got interested in forestry through
my "do-it-yourself" work as a kid working with wood. I had an
excellent training in shop work for a period of four or five years.
Also, I had collected about one hundred specimens of wood.
Fry: In Baltimore?
Fritz: Yes. The Baltimore Polytechnic Institute; very highly regarded
by eastern engineering colleges. Dr. J. B. Conant, formerly presi
dent of Harvard and a postwar ambassador, who made a study of high
schools for, I believe, a foundation or the federal government,
stated to me while he was visiting in Berkeley that the B. P. I.
was one of the best high schools in the country.
The title of my other course was a misnomer because when I took
it over, I discovered that the description in the University s
catalog of courses was: "the manufacture of lumber, the utiliza
tion of wood, grazing." Being a city-bred boy, I knew nothing
about grazing except that cattle and sheep ate grass. Some wes
tern forests are, of course, utilized by grazing men on a very
large scale. The Forest Service, after 1905, had a tough time
with the grazing people over the use of Forest Service land.
That s pretty well resolved now. John Muir was one of the first
to condemn the practice of heavy grazing in the woods. He re
ferred to the sheep as locusts.
Fry: I suspect a number of you on the faculty had to more or less put
your textbooks together as you went. Did you find this true?
Fritz: Yes, Professors Record, Hawley, Chapman and Bryant did that. Bryant
did such a good job on his sawmill ing book that there was not a
man in the country, including myself, who could have done it any
better. I had considered at one time, in the 1940 s, preparing
a book on sawmill ing and seasoning and "remanufacturing," as it
is called. I made a fairly good start at it, but I was not in
terested in writing books just to impress the University adminis
tration.
I still have, I think, the best collection of material on the
manufacturing processes in the files at the University of Cali
fornia up to 1954 when I retired. This material is now in Ban
croft Library. Bryant s book served my purpose very well, but
I kept my lectures up to date as improvements in lumber manufac
turing were made. In fact, after World War II, I gave serious
thought to a book to update Bryant s. Glad I didn t further
changes came so fast, no book would have been up-to-date at pub-
I i cat ion time.
Very few of our forestry students were interested in sawmill ing.
Those that were so minded have done very well. Many foresters
still regard sawmill ing as a thing foreign to them.
Fry: Forestry students of the first few decades were more interested in
83
Fry: the out-of-doors? They were primarily there for silviculture?
Fritz: Not entirely, but it was a strong motivation. I was as keen for
the outdoors as the others, but after one has entered a forestry
school he learns about the several branches of forestry. Some
become wood technologists, some loggers, but most stay in some
branch of forest management. I think if you should look into the
backgrounds of the foresters of the first thirty years, you would
find a high percentage of city-bred boys who had the good fortune
to visit a forest or big park and became outdoor men as a result.
In my own case, reared in a large city, I think that the 600-acre
Druid Hill Park in Baltimore and the woody environs of the Cornell
campus had an influence on my decision later to quit engineering
for some outdoor pursuit. Perhaps the clincher was the removal of
the Fritz family to the country in 1907. (Father hated the city.)
But the engineering had its influence too. It makes one practi
cal ize his ideals. My courses at the University of California
were more engineering than forestry.
If there is no logging in the forest, there is no need for for
estry and no need for a sawmill. The owner of a sawmill that buys
its logs from others has no need for a forestei but he may hire a
forestry school graduate who has become interested in wood tech
nology or the engineering aspects of lumbering.
Fry: Was the technology of lumbering largely overlooked then, in the
total curriculum?
Fritz: Not at all. In some schools, more importance might be attached
to silviculture and, nowadays, economics. In others, logging and
milling were given considerable prominence. Our forestry schools
are patterned after the European system where utilization is the
principal objective and plays a big part.
In the West, the University of Washington and Oregon State College
emphasized especially the logging phase. That was proper because
even though logging is an engineering activity, it does affect the
forest. But once a log is made and brought to the sawmill, its con
version is mechanical engineering. The logger is the key man, in
my opinion. He can make or break the forester s plan for continu
ous production. Therefore, he should be not only an engineer but
have a good understanding of forestry and be sympathetic toward its
objectives and methods.
Sawmill ing is not alone in requiring engineering applications.
Wood technology requires it too for mechanical properties and
seasoning. The latter calls for a good course in heating and ven
tilating, but at the same time, the anatomy of wood and the behavior
of its cells must be thoroughly understood to make seasoning suc
cessful. The anatomy of wood can be regarded as applied botany.
84
Fry: Did you have any textbooks on such things?
Fritz: There was one by Professor S. J. Record of Yale University on wood
technology. It was a very simple book. It was based in larqe part
on work done in Europe. I had raken his course at Yale. No one
knew much more about wood than one found In botany books. But
Record and Professor Harry Brown at Syracuse added a lot of new in
formation.
He told me once that I was his best student. If I was the best stu
dent, it was only because I enjoyed working with wood and because
of my previous experiences with it. I had no biology courses in
high school or at college, so had to go to summer school to study
botany so that I could enter Yale. Until then, I did not know that
wood was an aggregation of cells!
I had a collection of wood samples before I went to Forestry School,
somewhere near a hundred, and when I learned more about wood from
Sam Record, I discovered that I had mislabeled a lot of mine. I
had misinterpreted descriptions of the woods in the books available
to me at the time. One was Romeyn Hough s fine book on trees, and
another was old Bulletin 10, by F. Roth, titled Wood. Other books
were pretty sketchy. They must have been written by carpenters.
CLaughterU
Fry: It appears that your Forest Utilization course was a field which
was not yet well defined.
Fritz: It was well defined but very little text material was available
until Professor Ralph C. Bryant, of Yale University s School of
Forestry, wrote two books. One was on logging, the other was on
sawmill ing. He was not an engineer. He was the first forestry
graduate in the U.S. (Cornell University), and therefore the first
in the U.S. to receive a degree in forestry.
I was four years older than most of the students in my class, and
being a Cornell graduate myself, Bryant and I became very good
friends. In fact, Bryant and Record were friends until their deaths.
I owe much to them for their help. Later Nelson C. Brown of Syracuse
wrote a book on I umbering, and Harry P. Brown, also of Syracuse, wrote
one on wood technology, a classic. Harry was quite a scholar. In
cidentally, Harry Brown was one of my three professors in botany at
Cornell summer school in 1911. All three were excellent teachers.
I found botany very exciting.
Fry: Were your engineering studies at Cornell of any help to you at Yale?
Fritz: Yes. It was of great help both In wood technology when we studied
products, and in Professor Bryant s courses, especially when our
class went to Mississippi for the spring semester of 1914, where we
studied logging, then sawmill ing at the company s great mill some
thirty or forty miles south at Bogalusa, Louisiana. The Great
85
Fritz: Southern Lumber Company had the biggest sawmill in the world at
that time, 1,000,000 board feet per day. We were there for two
weeks, at the close of which we had to write a full report on the
sawmill, kilns and appurtenant departments. To me, it was very
simple because sawmill Ing Is a very simple engineering process.
But some of my classmates had an awful time. Several could not
figure out what made that carriage go back and forth. Could it be
the man riding it?
I think I wrote something like 110 pages longhand for my report. It
was illustrated with diagrams, flow charts, and equipment outlines,
as I recall it. It was probably the biggest report that Bryant
had gotten up to that time, and I was quite proud of it. Later on
when I came to the University of California to teach, I used the
report as a guide. Then Bryant asked me to donate it to the Forest
School Library at Yale. I did so, and recently learned it is still
there. (Incidentally, Professor Record wrote a book on the mechani
cal properties of wood while I was his student. He credited me in
the preface for helping him just another instance of my Cornell
engineering being of help.)
Fry: I was wondering if you delved any into timber economics in your
University course.
Fritz: Somewhat. Mason had organized a course which was called "The Lum
ber Industry." It was not so much technical as economic. It
started with the history of the industry and continued through
the full story. He was not at the University very long and I
took over that course when he left. It drew students from the
College of Commerce, some of whom were sons of lumbermen.
Then in 1927, while I was away on sabbatical and leave, and with
out any consultation with me, it was cancelled because somebody in
the University administration felt that we had two courses that
were more or less alike. Well, they were so only in small part; the
course attracted an entirely different type of student. There was
also a campuswide demand for cutting down the number of courses, ap
parently fearful of unnecessary proliferation. I was sorry to learn
it had been dropped. I enjoyed giving it. It was my largest class, with
most of the students interested in business administration. It was
also a course which would have made an excellent book, separate
from my proposed sawmill ing book.
I was pleased that many of the students went into the lumber busi
ness and rose to managerships or part owners. This course was also
an opportunity to sow some seeds in behalf of forestry and manage
ment for permanence.
1
Fry: Do you feel that the University of California had enough emphasis
on forest economics at that time?
Fritz: Very little emphasis. In fact, who was competent to teach it?
86
Fritz: Mason had more experience in it than anyone else because of the
study he had made in Idaho for the Forest Service. Some of it
rubbed off on me.
Fry: You mean it was difficult to ger soi.:?one to teach this because
the field was not well enough developed then?
Fritz: Of course, you could hire a professor of economics, but economics
is such an intangible thing that anyone could do it. An economist
is pretty much like a philosopher no one can contest with him.
Each has his own ideas. It is not like an exact science where
two and two always make four.
Fry: I was wondering if the difficulty was that forest economists were
not available at that time, or if the field itself was not really
built up as a field of study.
Fritz: At Cornell, I used some advance credit time on economics courses,
including corporation finance. At Yale we had a course in forest
economics. We used the book written by the German forester B. E.
Fernow, and titled Forest Economics. The Germans practiced for
estry not because they were emotionally concerned about the forest,
but because it was a business and an economic necessity.
My mother, when I became interested in forestry, began to tell me
about forestry in Germany. Her father was in the forestry service
of the then Kingdom of Wurttemburg. Forestry, as she explained it,
was not only the growing of trees but also their utilization. In
cidentally, ancestry had no influence on my getting into forestry.
Fry: Fernow s Forest Economics was not really applicable to American
forestry, was it?
Fritz: No. Our conditions were entirely different. But the principles
of economics are the same the world around, i.e., you can t get
blood out of a turnip. If there is no market for wood, there is
no lumbering; then you can t practice commercial forestry and
there s no need for it.
Even in the parks, the Germans and Americans use foresters for what
ever they have learned about tree characteristics and forest manage
ment. Even park forests need some management. The theory of letting
nature take her course in a large park is all wrong. People generate
problems. The more people, the greater the number and complexity of
the problems.
The market place sparks lumbering. Lumbering requires forestry for
its permanence. The better the market, the more intensive forest
management can be.
Fry: So you were primarily engaged in teaching the wood technology courses
and some economics?
87
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
During the Second World War, I was asked to give the forest pro
tection course, which was really fire protection, and I taught
that until the end of the war and thereafter continued with the
sawmill ing and the wood technology.
What can you tell us about the early days of your teaching experience?
It wasn t my first experience at teaching. I had four years of it
in the Engineering Department of the Baltimore Polytechnic Institute,
and at the same time I taught mechanical drawing for two or three
years at night in the Maryland Institute. I came to the University
of California with experience in teaching, and 1 really did like it,
although when I left the Polytechnic Institute in Baltimore I felt
that teachers are very much inclined to get into a rut. It was for
that reason that I thought I would stay at the University of Cali
fornia only a few years and then go back into practical work, most
I i ke ly engi neeri ng.
As time went on, however, I
liked it so well, always had such a fine
group of students, developed a great admiration for the University
of California, and delighted in being with foresters in an engineer
ing capacity. There was the closest relationship with young men Cl
was young myself at the time, only about thirty-three when I started)
The first students, being ex-soldiers, were in their early or mid-
twenties, so we got along famously. I also liked the state and
liked the possibilities that the state offered, so instead of quit
ting after a few years, I stayed on and on.
One time in 1937, my wife said, "I don t think you re ever going
back to engineering so I m going out and look for a better home."
We had a nice enough home at the time, but we felt we should have
something better for the two girls. Fortunately, she found what
we both felt was a very nice home with a large garden and we bought
it.
When was that?
November, 1937. It s the house we live in today.
That s when prices on houses were a good deal lower than they are
today.
That s right, and it was a good thing because professors didn t have
much chance to save much. We ve put in a considerable sum of money
to make improvements and more than doubled the cost, to say nothing
of furniture, drapes, rugs, and so on.
In teaching your subjects, to what extent did you take your students
out into the field to show them the actual conditions of sawmill ing?
The University of California, situated in Berkeley, is obviously at
some distance from the forests; so at its very start, before I came,
88
Fritz: the school set up a three-months summer field course, attendance
to which was required and, incidentally, without credit. It was
one of the requirements for graduation and obtaining the degree
of Bachelor of Science in forestry. At that time, three of the
professors would take turns. Each c n e had one month. My month
was generally the third, and 1 taught the field work, principally
timber cruising, logging, and milling. I took the students out on
visits to nearby sawmills and logging operations.
Summer camp teaching was very satisfying and it was a wonderful way
to learn to know the students, what they were capable of, their
drawbacks, their oddities, and their capacities. As a result, the
faculty members were able to place the graduates when an opportunity
presented itself in categories to which they were best fitted.
One particularly interesting summer project was the "mill-scale
study." Each student had a post In the mill, actually in pairs.
At a signal one of each pair would move to another post. In this
way the students got a very good idea of what happens to a log in
the mill.
I m very glad to say that those early men got into very good jobs,
that is, those who stayed with forestry. A few of them went into
other lines of work. During a few summers, 1 had also a few days
of the silviculture, about one week, but other than this, I did
not teach any forestry courses.
Maunder: Who among your students stand out most vividly as being outstand
ing men?
Fritz: Well, one of the earliest was Tom Oliver. He was the son of a
lumberman and shortly after his graduation became assistant manager
of the Hobart Mills, and later full manager. When that company
came to an end, he became manager of the very large Fruit Growers
Supply Company sawmill at Susanvi I le, California. Until his re
tirement, he was the manager of a large sawmill at Medford, Oregon.
Then there was Lawrence C. Merrlam, the present Regional Director
of the National Park Service in San Francisco. There was Herm
Miller, who became a very well-known logging engineer, first with
the Pacific Lumber Company in California, and then with Crown Zel-
lerbach in Oregon and Washington. In the same class was John C.
Sammi , who is presently a professor of forestry at New York State
College of Forestry in Syracuse.
The contact with university students was most pleasant, and after
my retirement in 1954 it was this close association with young men
that I missed most, and still miss. Naturally, in any group of
students there are some students who stand out and are easily picked
as "winners" in the future; there are others who will merely be
good workers, and others who never should have gone to a university.
89
Fritz:
Fry :
Fritz;
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz;
I was early impressed with the way Nature takes care of the dis
tribution of men as to their capabilities, much like the distribu
tion of trees In a forest. For example, there can bo only one
president of any one company, only one president of the United
States, only one governor of a stats, and although they change at
intervals, the number who can rise to such distinguished positions
is quite small. But there s a much larger field for the directive
work, the technical work, the management work, and so on. Then
there s a third group that will always be doing work at a desk or
doing field work as an employee who has very little chance to rise.
Their jobs are no less essential than that of the higher officials.
It reminds me of an editorial I read as a young man in one of the
Baltimore papers in which the author stated that a man must learn
what his capabilities and limitations are, and that he would be
very unhappy if he felt he should have gone higher in competition
with his colleagues. He should recognize his limitations and be
the best and happiest in the category to which he was fitted.
Did you do any work through forest extension on lumbering?
it
No, not through the Extension Division. I might have suggested
several times but it didn t work out. Almost all of my private
redwood forest management work was of the nature of extension, but
not official ly.
I think I noticed a few letters in your files, letters routed your way
asking for specific bits of information that someone in a lumber company
would want regarding either wood product uses or lumbering technology.
Oh yes, I had a lot of letters like that, maybe some hundreds, not
only from lumber companies but also individuals who had a wood prob
lem.
You seem to have had a lot of
giving advice like this.
letters to answer all the time in
They were very interesting letters and I answered every one of them.
Some led to friendships that opened the doors to much help and informa
tion of use in my classes. A teacher sitting at a desk doesn t have
any lumber to handle, he doesn t sell any, he doesn t buy much. So
he knows that when a man writes a letter, he has a problem and you
begin to think it over. It s a problem that you have probably never
thought of before. Of course, when I was new and green here, I had
a lot to learn, even though I had been in sawmills a great deal before
I came here to teach. I started to say, that looking back over my
consulting work, if I had been interested in making a lot of money,
I should have employed my consulting work in the sawmill because
in my opinion, the lumber industry at that time needed mechanical
engineers far more than it needed foresters.
Maunder: At that particular time.
90
Fritz:
Mtiunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Yes. That isn t true now.
The mechanical people have more than caught up now.
managers that you need now.
It s the land
It is land managers we need now, but we still need general engineers
because of electrification and extensive automation. It won t be
very long before we have the helicopter doing the log transportation.
It would be a great aid for better forestry. That s just my opinion.
I ve been in communication with the Miller people for some time, but
this company was sold to Fairchild. Hi I ler had on the drawing boards
a helicopter capable of lifting a twenty-ton load. I don t know
what Fairchild s interest in a large helicopter is.
Harry D. Tiemann has certainly made a contribution to the tech
nology of forestry. He must be ninety years old now.
Let me tell you something about Tiemann. Tiemann could do things
in wood technology that very few foresters could do, because very
few foresters have had complete courses in physics and mathematics
and certainly practically nothing in theoretical mechanics. Tiemann
came into the Yale Forestry School as an M.E., a mechanical engineer,
and with a knowledge of steam, heating and ventilating, good physics
and good mechanics and so on, a natural for those days. He was at
Madison Laboratory, you know.
Before 1910, Tiemann had the same trouble at that time in talking
to people manufacturing lumber or using lumber that those of my age
class had in trying to promote the introduction of forestry. And
Tiemann deserves a great deal of credit for breaking the ice be
cause he convinced lumbermen that they could do their seasoning
more perfectly, faster, more cheaply by studying the physical laws
that affect the seasoning of lumber.
Tiemann did the basic work, and I do hope you ll get him on your
records because I think he never got full credit for his work. The
great Forest Products Laboratory at Madison, Wisconsin, has carried
forward Tiemann s work in lumbering seasoning as well as many other
developments in which wood is involved design of wood structure,
the chemistry of wood, its physical and mechanical properties, wood
preservation, and so on. It was easier to interest wood industries
in its work than it was for foresters to interest them in forest
management. It was of more immediate and practical value to them.
Faculty
Fry: What did you think of the University faculty outside the School of
Forestry when you came here?
Fritz: I made many friends in other departments. There was a large coterie
of distinguished professors. It was stimulating to converse with
Fritz: those with whom I came in contact. There were very few "stuffed
shirts," but there were a few Communists. One in the English de
partment used to visit lumber towns and stir up trouble, right
after World War II. He was probably the one who called the redwood
area the "green hell of the redwoods." If he ever had a mea! at a
western logging camp, he never ate so well at home.
There also were some cliques. One would meet at lunch around a
large circular table in the Faculty Club to discuss campus politics,
a subject that never interested me.
Shortly after my arrival, I called on the Dean of the College of
Engineering, thinking that since we were both Cornel I ians and en
gineers, I could enlist his help to attract some engineer students
to my classes. I was taken aback when he started giving me a lec
ture on conservation. (In those days, forestry was regarded as a
synonym for conservation.) Pointing to his waste basket, he in
effect said, "If you foresters are really interested in conservation,
you could start saving trees by reducing the waste paper load."
I learned from him that there must have been a hassle over setting
up a forestry school. Apparently some felt that the engineering
department could give all the courses needed. I got the idea that
our little forestry school started off under a cloud.
Walter Mulford, then head of the Division of Forestry, told me
about the Academic Senate and that I was automatically a member.
He volunteered to take me to several of its meetings and acquaint
me with some of the issues. Well, I went and listened to the de
bates. Apparently, there was a schism in the Senate on the matter
of a president to succeed the retired great Benjamin Ide Wheeler,
and other matters that I have forgotten. The debates seemed child
ish to me, small stuff and not in accord with what one might expect
from a body of mature professors. The proceedings at the first and
subsequent meetings left me with a bad taste.
After that, I attended very few Senate meetings. I was not inter
ested in internal politics. But perhaps one should expect some
violent disagreements in such a large body of professors, especially
among those who had no contact with the outside world.
Maunder: But the academic senate in any institution involves strong debate
just as any deliberative body does. Sometimes this debate can get
rather acrimonious and seem perhaps even petty in some cases. But
that s part and parcel of democratic organization, isn t it?
Fritz: That might be, but some of the men spoke like children instead of
grown-ups.
Maunder: Has this always been true of all of the Senate meetings you ve been
to on this campus?
Fritz: Some of them are just ordinary meetings about routine matters.
92
Maunder: But surely you wouldn t judge the Academic Senate on one visit,
would you?
Fritz: It s pretty well known over the campus and it was also published in
the newspapers, and Senate proceedings.
Fry: This was what year, Professor Fritz?
Fritz: 1919.
Fry: Oh yes, this was the year that began what some refer to as the
"Faculty Revolution." Yes. This was a very tumultuous year.
Maunder: Over what?
Fry: Over the presidency, and also over the relationship of the faculty
to the Regents. That was a pretty brutal initiation for you, proba
bly, Professor Fritz.
Maunder: So you were never very active in the Academic Senate from that
point on?
Fritz: No.
Maunder: Were your colleagues in forestry of a like mind, would you say?
Fritz: I don t think they went to the Senate meetings very much until much
later when some additions were made to the forestry faculty.
Fry: Yes, you sure can t ignore the faculty Senate, because it has at
least two very powerful committees that could make or break anybody.
Fritz: I would rather wait for my promotions than to get them in that way.
Fry: Is there any other way you can characterize the forestry faculty,
rather than its lack of relationship to the Senate?
Fritz: Well, the other part of that was that in those days, there was a
hassle over public regulations. Federal regulations of lumbering
were being pushed by a group headed by Pinchot. And this school,
1 think to a man, didn t agree wholly with Pinchot about regulation:
if you want regulation, Pinchot s was a heck of a way to go about
it. And there were quite a number of foresters in the Forest Ser
vice also who did not agree with Pinchot. We felt things like this
should be done on a cooperative basis and that was Bill Greeley s
big point. That s what made Greeley great but lost him the friend
ship of Pinchot.
Maunder: Emanuel, when did you become full professor?
Fritz: I was made an associate professor in 1922, after I was here three
years, and then I was made full professor in 1950. So I was on the
93
Fritz: faculty for twenty-eight or twenty-nine years as an associate pro
fessor, and for twenty-two of those I got no increase In rank or
salary. Now you shouldn t wonder why I was doing consulting work
on the outside: I got $325 a month (minus ten percent during the
Depression days. The Univershy employees were the only state
officials or employees that took a Depression cut In pay.)
One day, casually, I asked President Sproul, "Why don t I get a pro
motion?" And he said, "You were never recommended by the head of
your division."
I heard, when I was in Washington in 1938 as a consultant in the
Interior Department for three months, that a good friend of mine
in California, without my permission (unless it was a facetious
one), undertook to have some recognition conferred on me here at
the University. I don t recall what it was. Word of that must
have gotten to Mulford because I got a letter from him telling me
that if he didn t hear from me to the contrary, he would assume
that I am not coming back and that I would take a job in the In
terior Department. (I actually was offered the number two spot.)
Well, that sort of floored me. That was assuming I wouldn t tell
him that I m going to resign If I intend to. I d like to find a
letter that I wrote to him about that. It must be in my files in
Bancroft. That was not very nice of him.
I had many other opportunities. I had three different deanships
offered to me. I turned them down without talking with Mulford
about it.
Fry: Why didn t you let anybody know? I thought that half of the beauty
of getting offers is letting your present superiors know that you
are held in high esteem on other campuses.
Fritz: I ll tell you. You mentioned Lovejoy yesterday. I was offered
the deanship at Michigan State, and as a matter of fact, they
worked awful hard on me. They were angry that I did not accept.
While in East Lansing, I called on P. J. Lovejoy. I knew him
well and just wanted to say Hello to him. He asked, "What are you
doing here?" And I said, "To talk to the president of the Univer
sity and to the dean of the College of Agriculture, and to look
over the school at their invitation. They want me to come here as
dean."
And he said, "Are you going to accept?" I said, "I m not going to
accept until I can talk it over with my family."
He laughed and said, "Oh, you re going to do some academic high
jacking when you get back." I answered, "Not at all. I have never
licked anybody s boots for favors in my life, and I m not going to
94
Fritz: In fact, on the train going back to Berkeley, I thought it over,
decided against it, and telegraphed my refusal. While in Michigan,
I also called on Sam Dana, dean of the Forestry School at Ann Arbor.
We conversed about the M.S.U. offer and at one point he said, "I
hope you don t accept. Michigan forestry is not big enough to have
two aggressive and competing deans." I had much respect for Sam.
Perhaps his remark had a bearing on my negative decision.
Maunder: What were the other schools that gave you offers? You say there
were three.
Fritz: Idaho and Syracuse. At Syracuse, it was at the time Nelson Brown
thought he was going to get the deanship (I was his speaker at the
big annual dinner they have). He was the acting dean and thought
sure he was going to get it. I had some other information but I
couldn t tell him. He drove me down to the train. It was a mid
night train to Albany where I was to interview Graves, the head of
the State Department of Education.
Brown didn t know exactly why I was going there, but on the way
down to the train he tapped me on the knee and said, "Fritz, I m
going to be dean of this school, and when I m dean I want you to
come here as the head of the Department of Utilization." I had been
offered that position once before, back in 1922 after I was at the
University of California only two or three years, and I turned it
down then without telling anybody about it, although Mu I f ord knew
about it. (He told me about it.)
So I felt awfully bad about it because Nelson Brown was a good
friend and a nice friendly chap. It was rather embarrassing to be
his principal speaker there that night.
Maunder: Who was the man appointed then?
Fritz: Sam Spring. I was at Cornell at the time as an exchange professor,
and I knew a little about what was going on and that I was one of
those who was being considered. But I let Dr. Graves know at the
start of our interview that I was not interested and I gave him my
reasons. He had given me a long spiel about the new building named
for Trustee Marshall, Bob Marshall s father, and that it was only
the beginning of New York State s largess to Syracuse. The Onon-
daga County delegation was very powerful and ambitious for Syracuse.
It was this delegation that murdered the second forestry school at
Cornell in about 1932, after a fresh start in 1911.
Maunder: The Mulford papers are at Bancroft Library, aren t they?
Fry: They are probably there in the University Archives section.
Fritz: Well, you ll find an awful thick file on Fritz in there. I m sure
he kept a lot of notes on me. He would never come out clean and
straightforward and discuss things with me, so I practically Ignored
him. Naturally, I wanted to know where I stood but things would
95
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
leak out once in a while, and
lot of evidence against me.
Mu I ford was?
I gathered that he was piling up a
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
He was certainly wishing that I would resign. He made that clear.
Now, let me see. Once I had talked with him about the fact that
the school has no forest and we should have one because the forest
is the forester s laboratory, and none of us will know as much as
we ought to know to be effective teachers of forestry unless we
have a forest where we can cut our eyeteeth in management.
His reply was, first of all, that it would be too heavy a drain on
our finances, without his even having gone into it. He could have
gotten the finances at that time. And second, if we wanted to
manage a piece of land like that we might make a mistake which would
be a black spot on the forestry profession. That was the clincher.
From that time on, I thought the man was either nuts or he had no
guts. I think the latter was more true. The President of the Uni
versity of California told me once I shouldn t repeat this told
me that, I don t remember the exact words
That was Sproul ?
Sproul, yes that, well, "Mulford doesn t have a whole lot of
courage, does he?" Something like that.
Emanuel, what was the tenure situation here at Cal when you came
to the school?
I came here as an assistant professor, and I had the usual three-
year probationary period.
And when did you establish tenure?
At the end of three years. Tenure comes automatically when one is
made an associate professor.
So you were protected to a considerable extent by that tenure, were
you not, in the disagreements you had within the department? You
were actual ly beyond the
Reach? They could reach me all right. They tried to. The best way
to reach a man is to deny him any promotions.
In other words, you feel that there was a systematic effort made to
discourage you.
I m sure of It. I once asked Mulford, "Is there any future for me
here at the School of Forestry?" And he said, "No." Now, you
couldn t be any more definite than that.
96
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Maunder:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Had you no support from your col leagues?
We were a very friendly group. They knew nothing about it, and I
wouldn t take it up with them. That would be putting them In a
bind and wouldn t be fair to them.
And yet you did stay, and you did have offers of better positions
elsewhere, and you apparently were considering staying in Washington,
D.C., in the Thirties when you went back, according to a letter in
your f i les.
I had hardly arrived back in California in 1933 from Washington
when let me see, it comes clear now Lee Muck wanted me to stay in
Washington as assistant director of forestry.
In the Department of Interior?
Yes. And I declined. If I had advised Mulford about it, he proba
bly would have encouraged me to accept; I don t remember all about
that. There is some correspondence in my files on it. About two
years later, the offer was repeated, but this time to be director
of forestry, when Muck was moved up to be assistant to the secre
tary, Harold I ekes.
And you sti II said No.
What was the overriding consideration for your refusing these other
job offers?
Fritz: First of all, even though I liked Washington (I still think it s a
wonderful place to rear an American family) I had the wonderful
opportunity as a boy to spend my summers in Washington with an aunt-
I liked Berkeley and the University much better.
And you had a lot of relatives right around there too.
Yes, I was born In Baltimore, only forty miles away. Once I walked
to Washington on a bet as to the time it would take ten and a half
hours.
Wouldn t it have been good for your family then?
your reasons?
Or what were
Because of both children. I liked the University of California, I
fell in love with teaching, I liked the kind of students we got,
and I was getting so much interest and support from the sawmill
people for my lumbering course and wood technology, that I thought,
"I can t afford to lose all that."
About that time also I was getting deeper and deeper into redwood
forestry, a field that I thought I was completely divorced from
when I came to the University of California in 1919. And as for
97
Fritz: the returns, the salary, we were living on it. We had some addi
tional income plus the bits I could pick up in consulting work.
That didn t pay very much, it never did. But it was profitable
in two ways: It gave me a little extra money and also it gave me
a more complete and clearer Insight Into what makes the lumber In
dustry click and why they were so hesitant In adopting better for
estry practices.
Fry: You had this continuous feed-in and feed-back with industry.
German vs. American Forestry
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
You ve mentioned several men in the course of this interview who
have been in a sense pioneers in their field and have led industry
and forestry into taking steps that needed to be taken. Mason was
one, Tiemann is another, and you ve commented a little bit on the
character and the personality of these men. I m sure you ve seen
others similar to them over the course of your career who have made
similar contributions in other areas of leadership in forestry,
the early foresters.
I don t want to take your time to go over that now.
No, but what characteristics do a I
in common?
of these men seem to have had
They had an intense love of the outdoors. They were incensed over
the way the Public Domain was being administered. The Forest Ser
vice was set up in 1905. It was the time of Theodore Roosevelt and
Gifford Pinchot, Ida Tarbell and others who were giving big industry
a bad time.
I was an engineering student at the time. Having considerable spare
time, I read many, perhaps all, of their speeches and articles in
the magazines. For the public speaking class, I prepared a speech
on T. R. s and G. P.
I was on G. P. s side
s writings ( I sti I I have
but at the same time
on conservation, based
the pencilled copy),
could not see how every ill could be corrected as quickly as these
energetic people seemed to think was necessary. I noted early the
antagonism they aroused among forest land owners and operators.
Hindsight tells me some of these fine people were motivated not
only by bearing down on the need for better forest practices but
also by creating for themselves the images of saviours.
Among the more selfless_in the days before 1900 were Dr. J.~T. Roth-
>ock of Pennsylvania/ "Dr. Samuel B. Green of Minnesota, and Dr. C.
E. Bessey of Nebraska. These three were botanists, interestingly
enough.
Pinchot was the principal publicist. He had wealth, charisma and
98
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
energy, and he revelled in publicity.
Germans.
Then there were the three
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Who were they?
C. A. Schenck, B. E. Fernow, and F. Roth. Schenck and Fernow were
forestry trained. I don t recall if Roth had formal forestry train
ing but, like many Germans reared in or near a forest, he had in
grained knowledge of the forester s art. These three Germans had
a profound influence on American forestry. (That was true also of
French farmers who had a little woodlot. They knew the species of
trees in terms of value and how to manage them. 1 noted that while
soldiering in France in 1917-1919.)
Pinchot, of course, studied forestry in France in the |890 s. But
this, it seems to me, served him the better to handle the political
end of forestry promotion than to manage forests.
After we began to train foresters in the U.S. (1898 et seq.), the
three German foresters influence increased. Except for these three,
none of the forestry teachers knew much about forest management other
than what they read in European books, much of which did not fit
American forest or economic conditions. They were all German.
To the three one should add Carl Schurz for his management of the
Interior Department. (And incidently, Elwood, you have done some
writing on Schenck.) If Pinchot and his young foresters had given
Schenck, Fernow and Roth more support, American forestry on private
lands could be much further along than it is right now. Just think
that over, and if you want to ask a question
Yes. Why?
I am reminded of something my mother told me when she learned I
would go back to college to study forestry. Her father was a
"Jaeger" in the Black Forest, a sort of guard with hunting privi
leges and in charge of a small forest unit. She described his nur
sery, the planting and harvesting. The forest was handled like a
crop to be reared and harvested. Sentiment was secondary.
I think that what you re getting at is that Fernow, Roth, and
Schenck were more realistic than the American first echelon of
trained foresters. There was a difference. The first Europeans
in America were more pragmatic in their approach to forestry,
whereas the American group, led by Pinchot and his early cohorts,
were more crusaders, weren t they?
Crusaders and idealists and full of missionary zeal. I do not use
these terms in a derogatory sense. They were fine men and did a
great job .
Maunder: There was a difference between the pragmatic approach and the
99
Maunder: idealistic approach. Is that what you have in mind?
Fritz: Yes. In Germany, forestry developed from immediate needs after
centuries of warfare and exploitation. Forestry in Europe was a
long time growing up. In America wo still had an abundance of
primeval forests.
Pinchot and others of that time had an idea to sell but no cus
tomers. They had difficulty even getting their foot in the door
to talk about their "product," if you want to call it that. The
product would be the practice of forestry. And regrettably they
followed methods that I don t think were particularly kosher.
They antagonized people. It s exactly the same situation you have
in California right now with the Sierra Club antagonizing not only
the owners but a growing portion of the public, the local people.
The objective was worthy but the approach to its realization was
unwise, heavy-handed and close to socialism. The latter, socialism,
grew stronger into the I930 s and up to about 1950. Public owner
ship was not in accord with our spirit of American private enter
prise, mistaken as it sometimes was and is.
Maunder: But it seems to me that we re talking about not only two very dif
ferent peoples, but we re talking about two very different cultural
situations in which these two very different groups of people had to
operate. The European forester came out of a situation in which
the land, for the most part, had been owned by the aristocracy,
the landed gentry, for hundreds of years.
Fritz: Yes.
Maunder: Barons, so to speak, had employed "Forstmeisters" to manage their
lands for what could be cut from them in the way of timber, what
would be gathered in the way of fuel, what would be done with them
in the way of using them as hunting preserves, fishing grounds,
and so on. And they had Forstmeisters to do this; they were em
ployed people. And these Torstmeisters were like lots of other
people in the European situation: they handed their craft on from
son to son.
That was a totally different situation from the one here in this
country. We didn t have the same condition at all, and our for
esters moved into a situation that was totally different from what
their forebears had come from in Europe, our German mentors being
"Daddy Roth" at Michigan and Fernow at Cornell, later at McGi I I
(at Toronto) and Schenck down in Bi Itmore. So you ve got to take
Into consideration the cultural differences.
Fritz: That s the reason I said that the German foresters who came over
here had several centuries of forestry background, while our for
esters had to start from scratch.
100
Maunder:
Fritz;
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
They started from scratch
have to sell anybody, did
In and assigned work and
over the years to malntat
whereas In this country a
cloth and It had to sel I
at all sympathetic probab
And Pinchot and his group
to sel I an idea. The other breed didn t
they? They had themselves been brought
they were perpetuated 1 1 ke a bureaucracy
n and rarry out their professional duties,
profession had to be created out of whole
Its basic Ideas to a country that was not
ly to any of these ideas In the beginning.
therefore had a different job.
The Germans and other Europeans had already established forestry
and had developed management methods that are in vogue today, such
as clear cutting and selective cutting. We didn t start them. We
only applied them to an entirely different forest, different as to
species and types. Our job was to convert virgin forests to man
ageable forests. We had to learn from trial and error.
I have been described several times, when being introduced as a
speaker, as the inventor of the selective cutting system in the
redwoods. That isn t correct. It was already established. In my
early days in California, I called it selective logging, later I
felt selective cutting was more correct. Selective logging could
be understood to mean selective picking up (yarding) of logs al
ready made. I merely determined that the virgin redwood forest lends
Itself to selective cutting. That was In early 1923 when I made a
study of second growth and found several trees on the plot that had
survived earlier logging fires and responded with remarkable ac
celeration In growth rate.
In other words, the American foresters didn t have the economic
background for American forestry that the Germans had for European
forestry?
Nor the experience of actual practice. And, as for the philosophy
of forestry, I think that basically they were more recreation-minded
than pragmatic in the sense that forestry should go with lumbering.
Yet the cry for forestry was to prevent a "timber famine." We had
no idea which system of management was best for our virgin forests.
We had to learn, and our economic situation did not permit close
utl I Ization.
That wasn t true in the early days, was it, Emanuel?
Pinchot did a great deal to have articles written on waste utiliza
tion what you can do with the waste or how to make less; how to
arrive at closer utilization, which was in Its infancy. There was
one drawback. The American foresters had had no chance whatever
in those days of managing a forest.
You take, for example, Walter Mulford. He was about the second or
third man to get a degree in forestry in this country. Now of course
he had Fernow as a teacher. He also had Philip Roth as a teacher.
He was lucky in that respect. He got his forestry from men who had
had practical experience.
101
Fritz: But when Mu I f ord was out of school, what could he, what could
Pinchot, what could the others do without a piece of land to
manage? Pinchot, through his family connections, was hired to
advise George Vanderbilt on handling his Biltmore forest. In a
few years, he handed the job over to Schenck. Just why, was never
clear to me.
Cornell, the first forestry school, had Fernow as the head and Fer-
now reasoned: "The laboratory in that building over there is the
chemical laboratory, and that s the physical laboratory. My labo
ratory is out in the woods so I ve got to build me a laboratory.
And to build a laboratory, all you do is buy a piece of land with
some trees on it."
So he was going to manage that forest land. He made a good start,,
but he antagonized the wealthy people in that area owning great
acreages. They were less interested in practicing forestry than
in the preservation of their hunting and game reserves. They pro
tested this German forester coming over and logging a slope clear.
(Well, I think the local people were unnecessarily infuriated over
it, because it would grow up again and be better than it was before
in a sense. Of course, the scrubby forest is the best for hunting
anyhow.) So the local people turned against him and, being very
powerful in Albany, they cut off Cornell s forestry appropriation.
That killed the Cornell forestry school.
Fry: You are saying that the lack of experience in forest management
was something that the American foresters had to deal with right
from the first, that this was one big thing that they had to con
tend with which Europeans didn t?
Fritz: Don t let me play down the American men, the early Americans in
forestry, because they were an unusual lot. In those days, trying
to sell forestry was like trying to sell birth control today or
some new re I i g i on .
But we couldn t follow European foresters totally because they were
already working on managed forests, and we had no managed forests
on this side. Our first job was not to manage the forest so much
as to convert or transform a virgin miscellaneous lot of species
and sizes and qualities of trees (on the same acres sometimes and
certainly on the same forty acres) into manageable forest.
You can t manage a forest unless you have a lot of money and want
to do it for the pleasure, like a man who has a horse farm just
for the fun of It, with the losses tax deductible. Management
implies, of course, the building of protection roads, the cutting
of trees that are inferior, and utilizing the mature crop. Nowa
days it calls for also recreation and watershed control. In other
words, to develop a crop with not as many trees per acre, but with
fewer and far better trees.
102
Fritz: When I look back on it, especially when I think of that party for
my eightieth birthday, I sat there wondering what In the devil
have I ever accomplished that deserves all this, because so many
times what I tried to do was a complete failure. And many of the
things I suggested be tried out never were. They will some day,
but maybe it was put up in the wrong way or the market wasn t
ready for it or I wasn t ready for it. Maybe 1 wasn t a good
enough salesman, I wasn t smooth enough.
Fry: What do you think were the major mistakes made by forestry in
general in the early days in America, now that we have the advan
tage of hindsight?
Fritz: Well, I m talking from personal experience over the last fifty
years. I think I would have, if I could have afforded it myself
or gotten somebody else to apply it, a large tract of timber which
was to be harvested, and I would have made that an example or a
trial, a pilot plant of what the problems are in managing it.
I think I can say something that will epitomize this in just a
few words. When I came here In 1919, of course, my mind was all
set on wood technology and sawmill Ing and not on forestry. But
then when I got out in the woods and roamed around and found some
of this magnificent second growth, already sixty-five years old
or more, I thought, "This is what the school should own."
So we went back to Mulford and suggested that we ought to have a
school forest, and I don t recall what he said to that particular
statement, but later on after we told him of a second-growth tract
and what it would cost, what we could learn from it, his answer
was very definite: No, we should not own a piece of forest land
and try to manage it because we might make a mistake, and that
would give forestry a black eye.
If we had such a tract now, we of the forestry faculty could have
acquired in the forty years some second-growth management facts
that are badly needed right now when such young stands are being
cut on a large scale. Also we would have served timber owners
much earlier as competent advisors. More important, we would have
learned early how dependent the forester Is on markets. We for
esters represented ourselves as knowing how a forest should be
managed! Yet we still do research work and hold seminars to find
out what can be done and how much it will cost.
Maunder: But you take the Harvard forest for example. Here was a school of
forestry which did have a tract of land, and they had the vision
of the future of how to manage that land. Now you go back there
and talk to Hugh Routh who has been with it from the very begin
ning, and he ll point out to you: Well, we had the wrong vision.
Our whole plan was based on false notions. What we do, we do in
terms_pf what we understand about the market and the needs of our
"own times. We cannot foretell what the conditions are go mg to be
103
Maunder: forty, fifty, sixty years from now when the crop we re managing
comes to maturity.
Fritz: He is right. But Harvard learned that poor soil does not
permit what one can do on better soil. Harvard certainly knows
that every cultural activity costs money and that this cost can
not be returned for some years. For example: I have been asked
often why I don t recommend thinning some of our dense redwood
young growth. My answer always was: Yes, the forest should be
thinned but if
(cut) out, you
the future.
you can t get the cost back from what is thinned
are setting up an intolerable financial burden for
Of course, we should have had experimental thinnings here and there
to learn what good the thinnings would accomplish, how much it would
cost, and what can be done with resulting debris. Some of our young
redwood stands are up to 110 years old. They came up without help.
Had intensive management been possible, these stands should have
been thinned several times and at unknown intervals.
Thinning is an economic problem. There are good signs that it
will be solved when the number of new pulp mills require more chips
than mill and woods leftovers can supply. Or the small logs derived
from thinnings may some day suit the needs of small mill men for
lumber if they are suitably equipped.
A_ School of_ Forestry a_t Stanford?
Maunder: Were you ever accused of trying to start a competitive school of
forestry at Stanford?
Fritz: I don t know that I was ever so accused. No one in his right mind
would go out and try to get a school started somewhere else in com
petition with his own school. The suspicion would come into his
mind right away that Fritz wants to be dean of it. The deanship
of any school is the last thing I would ever want. In my opinion,
a deanship is pretty much of a very well paid clerkship, and I hate
to see some men take a deanship because of the prestige that goes
with it. I feel their usefulness in their own specialty fias been
lost. You already know that I turned down several deanship offers
from other schools.
Now as to your question: There was indeed an effort made to start
a forestry school at Stanford.
Fry: There was?
Fritz: Yes. John Hemphill, who was the general manager of the large Sugar
Pine Lumber Company at Fresno, came to me once and asked he either
came to me or he spoke to me when we met somewhere. I used to visit
104
Fritz: his mill a great deal. It was a great mill but cost too much. He
might have written me about it, in which case my letter file should
contain copies of the correspondence. That was way back In about
1925 or 26 that he was sounding me out as to the need for another
forestry school in California. Now as you know, in the early I920 s
there was a Pinchot battle for public regulation of lumbering. The
Capper report resulted from it.
Perhaps Hemphill thought that his idea would be a counter against
the Capper findings and a counter offensive against other forestry
schools, siding with Pinchot. Actually the schools were cool toward
Pinchot on federal regulation.
Fry: Do you think then that he thought that U.C. was too oriented toward
Capper-type forestry?
Fritz: No. This school was not in favor of the Capper thing at all.
Fry: But you felt that he_ thought this way?
Fritz: That he might have thought this way, yes. Hemphill was a graduate
of Stanford University and had been secretary to President David
Starr Jordan. Apparently the two of them were still on very good
terms (I m sure Jordan was still there). And if he had ever taken
that to Jordan, that would have killed it right away because Jordan
must have known about that gentleman s agreement between U.C. and
Stanford.
Now, 1 personally felt this way about it: At that time there was
no need for another school in California. Second, that if there
were a need for another school, Stanford would be an idea! place
because the students would be able to practically walk to a forest
for their field work, whereas U.C. students have to go a couple of
hundred miles before they can even see a good forest. We are at a
great disadvantage in that respect but more than make up for it by
having a ten-week summer camp.
Nothing ever came of the Hemphill idea. First of all, it was none
of my business, and I would have had to go to Professor Mulford
and tell him that this thing was brewing. Maybe I did I don t
remember.
Fry: Did you talk to anybody in the College of Agriculture here?
Fritz: I don t think so. I had no personal interest in it.
Fry: Oh I see. But did you encourage Hemphill to check with the presi
dent of Stanford on this?
Fritz: I don t know. That s too far back and I wasn t interested in get
ting involved in it anyway. I now frequently have dinner with a
Stanford group at Bohemian Club. They are all very good friends
105
Fritz: and we talk about the University of California Forestry School
(you know there s a lot of kidding between the two universities),
all very friendly. They will make some comment, like, the forestry
school should have been at Star ord, or something like that. "You
fellows haven t any forests over there and we have," and I would
have to agree.
I personally think it would have been a far better thing if the
school had been placed at Stanford rather than In Berkeley, because
of the proximity of a forest over there. And incidentally, Stan
ford University owned a lot of timber, second growth, the kind of
timber that American foresters of our time should have been working
in long ago to have everything all ready with data by the time the
second growth was really merchantable and needed when the old growth
was nearly gone. That time is now here and we haven t got that
information.
Herbert Hoover s brother what was his name, Theodore? owned a lot
of forest land on the peninsula not very far from Palo Alto. One
day Professor Mulford told us in a faculty meeting that they had
been given the chance of accepting that property. It was to be a
gift to the University of California Forestry School. None of us
knew anything about it. At least, I didn t, and I m sure none of
the others did. Later, Mulford told us that he had been offered
this property and that he had declined It.
Fry: v Do you know why?
Fritz: Because it would be too much of a drain on our finances.
Fry: To keep it up, you mean?
Fritz: To carry on the research work and to maintain and administer it.
Maunder: Wouldn t it have provided some income that would have taken care
of that?
Fritz: Eventually, yes. That was a heartbreaker. That must have been
around in the late 1920 s or early 1930 s when that offer was made.
I wish you could find Mulford s papers, the official papers, about
that. I have never seen them. Incidentally, during the depression
when the federal government set up work camps C.C.C. and W.P.A.
Mulford apparently finally succumbed to approving a school forest.
He approached the lumber industry for a gift of cutover land. That s
the forest the school got and what is now called Blodgett Forest.
Now that you brought up the Stanford subject, I should add that about
ten years ago, during a conversation with a lumber Industry man, a
Stanford engineering graduate, he asked If it would be a good idea
If he should promote a lumber manufacturing professorship at Palo
Alto. I encouraged him. With so much lumbering In the West, at least
one university engineering school should give more than the usual
106
Fritz: three-unit course given by forestry schools to sawmill ing opera
tions. Most forestry schools pay adequate attention to logging,
but sawmill ing is really a purely engineering undertaking.
107
VII THE REDWOODS
Second Growth I nvestlgatlon
Maunder: Can you give us a little background on your first Interest In the
redwoods?
Fritz: Everyone is interested in the redwoods. If he has never seen them,
he want? some day to see them; once he has seen them, he wants to
see them again. Because of my sawmill course, I had to go through
the redwood country to visit the mills; that was my job. I wasn t
there to study the woods, or even to work out the forestry. That
started after 1923. I would visit a sawmill and if there was any
time left, I d go out to the woods just to look around to see where
the logs came from.
It was a time when preservationists were becoming active in saving
the best groves. The Save-the-Redwoods League had already been or
ganized and had preserved several fine groves. There was so much
old-growth redwood then that there appeared no difficulty in getting
owners to sell. But it was a very hard job prying money loose from
people and agencies that had it.
I was very fortunate early in 1920 when Mr. Edward James, represent
ing Sage (.and and Improvement Company of Albany, New York, and his
son and a surveyor were going up to the redwoods by automobile on
timber business and invited me to go along. I had been to the red
woods once before by railroad in 1915, but never before by automobile,
Mr. James later became a member of the State Board of Forestry. He
was a very interesting and helpful man. He lived in Santa Rosa,
looked after the Sage properties, buying and selling timber. En
route, he told me much about the redwoods and what goes on, and in
troduced me to a number of people so that I got a running start
there. The road was dusty, narrow and crooked, but very scenic.
Mr. James had data on most of the fine groves along the highway.
We stopped at many of them, visited split-products operations, and
a shingle mi I I .
In 1921, during the regionwlde reforestation efforts, the companies
had decided to reforest their cutover lands. The University, under
Professor Woodbridge Metcalf, helped out with methods of planting,
collecting seed, and rearing seedlings. I had nothing to do with it.
It was out of my line at the time. However, it was important to
know what kind of lumber the young growth would produce. The only
way to find out was to cut some of the second growth and run it
through the mill. This second growth was already sixty or sixty-
five years old. In 1922, Woody Metcalf and I had come across some
fine second growth on Big River, owned by the Union Lumber Company.
108
Fritz: In 1923, David T. Mason, at the time the advisor of the redwood
owners, arranqed for the cutting ,of a small area on Union s land.
It turned out to be only seven-tenths of an acre. I was In charge
of the study so I saw the produc from the stump to and through
the mill. The company furnished the falters, and I brought a for
estry assistant. As the trees were all felled and bucked, we would
scramble over their trunks and stumps to get a Jot of data for what
we call "stem analysis." It was the first one made by the School,
and the data has been very useful ever since.
The logs were milled in the Mendocino Lumber Company mill at Men-
doclno (subsidiary of Union Lumber Company). The biggest log was
only twenty-four inches at the small end, the smallest, about eight
inches. The sawmill carriage had very low head blocks for handling
large logs. Some of my logs were so small that they had to be held
against the knees with a cant hook. It took two or three days to
mill the logs. The lumber was piled in the yard for seasoning. One
truck load was taken to the Union Lumber Company plant at Fort Bragg
for kiln dry i ng.
It was an extremely Interesting and revealing experience. I wrote a
report but it was published only In local newspapers. In the Univer
sity forestry files, It is designated Project 688. The quality of
the lumber was disappointing. That from top logs was better than
that from butt logs because the knots were sound. As to figure and
color, it resembled the coarsest grain in old growth. Far more im
portant (at least in my opinion) was the discovery that three of the
130 trees cut on the 0.7 acre plot were relics of the original for
est cut in 1858. These three trees were then under twenty-four inches
in diameter on the stump. These three escaped death in the slash
fires. Without the competition of the trees that were cut, these
three experienced an accelerated growth rate. I think the largest
of the three was about forty inches or more in diameter. Their IUJP-
ber was coarse-grained but mostly free of knots. The report draws
special attention to these three trees because they indicated that
redwood forests should be cut on a selective basis. The machinery
then used in logging made such cutting impractical at the time.
The owner of the lumber company was C. R. Johnson, the grandfather
of the present president, C. Russell Johnson. He was a very fine
man and to him I owe a great deal for his sympathetic help. He
was a real leader and a gentleman.
Maunder: What year was this?
Fritz: 1923. His logging bosses, all old-timers, thought the study was all
a lot of foolishness. They declared that it was impossible to grow
redwoods from seed, that they always came from sprouts, though the
evidence was right there in front of them that redwood does come
from seeds as well as sprouts. Also they said the lumber would be
no good, that it would fall apart when it was dry, all of which was
proved fallacious. We were too far ahead of our time, I think, and
109
Fritz: I was asked not to publish the report because it might interfere
with the planting program. That was a big mistake on my part.
Anyway, as a result of that experiment, I returned a few weeks later
to relocate a stand across the river which was of the same age and
which Woody Metcalf and I saw and measured In 1922. In 1923 I made
a permanent study plot of it. It has become known as the Wonder
Plot. In 1958, its trees were one hundred years old.
Maunder: Did Dave Mason sell certain redwood companies on supporting re
search that he was generally overseeing, and then bring you and
Metcalf into it as "subcontractors" to do certain things?
Fritz: Metcalf and I were the first of our faculty to see this fine young
growth in 1922 and told Mason about it. It was my idea that Mason s
planting program should be preceded by learning what kind of lumber
young trees would make. But Mason got the company to make a cutting
possible. He was not on the plot while I worked on it. It was my
project.
At the University, we were allowed one semester for teaching and one
semester for research, and in addition, since 1934, I had the sum
mer off also. (I was on academic status.) But at that particular
time, 1923, I was on an eleven-month basis.
It was clearly the honest opinion of the redwood owners and opera
tors, and especially the local people, that young growth redwood
would not produce good lumber. In order to get good lumber, it was
felt, you have to raise a tree to be a thousand years old. It was
a common expression: "It takes a thousand years to mature a red
wood." That, of course, was altogether fallacious.
The labor of felling, bucking and yarding was all done under the
direction of the Union Lumber Company s logging boss, Ed Boyle, one
of the great logging characters of the redwood industry. But when
it came to how high the stump should be, how long the log should
be, that was my job.
Maunder: When did you do this work?
Fritz: In the spring semester of 1923. I started the job in early March,
collecting the data on the logs. Yarding the logs to the railroad
track and thence to the mi I I took another week. Then the sawmi II
work began I think in early April. This is my recollection. It s
all in a report in the University forestry library files.
Fry: And I believe you said a copy is over in the School of Agriculture?
Fritz: Yes, and I have one copy. The Union Lumber Company has a copy.
Maunder: Did the Union Lumber Company pay you or the University anything
for this work?
I 10
Fritz: No. There was no question of payment. None was expected and they
offered none. The Union Lumber Company provided the land, the trees
and the labor. Some of their own foresters would come out and help
us sometimes. It was a fine example of cooperation between the
company and the University.
Maunder: Did you do all of the data collecting?
Fritz: All of the data was collected by myself and my assistant.
Maunder: Who was your assistant?
Fritz: That was Leonard Kellogg. He s now a recently retired professor
of forestry at Iowa State College, very able and very conscientious
and a meticulously accurate worker.
The report incidentally showed that the redwood lumber produced
by a sixty-five year old tree, grown under natural conditions with
out any help of man and with no form of forestry management, was
very knotty, very coarse grained. This was to be expected from
the size of the trees and their age, and the high percentage of
sap wood. Sap wood ranged up to three inches wide, which is no
wider than it is in an old growth tree at the maximum, but on
small logs like ours, a three-inch ring of sap wood is a big per
centage.
Maunder: Well, would you say that the results that came from your research
supported or refuted your contentions about the value of second
growth redwood as a good commercial species?
Fritz: Without any intention to brag about, before we put an axe into the
trees, I deduced that the lumber would be coarse and very knotty.
It was very obvious. The branches or stubs of these 65-year-old
trees were sticking out all the way down to the ground. Dea3
branch stubs make for rotten knots, but in other U.S. regions, such
common grade lumber was accepted when the old growth gave out. So
why should not the same hold true for second growth redwood when
the old growth has given out, as it must some day. However, by
leaving undersize trees standing after logging, they would produce
clear grades in considerable volume. The wider growth rings of
the accelerated growth portion of each log would serve many of
the uses that are now met by the finer grained of the old growth.
When the lumber people looked at the boards we sawed, they were
disappointed over its grade. It was difficult to sell them the
idea of not making comparisons between old growth and young growth
lumber but to project an image fifty years hence when their old
growth was used up and lumber would be still I n_ demand. I never
expected to see that situation myself buf~here It Is, and we are
already dipping Into the young forests for logs in significant
volume and having no difficulty getting a very good price for it.
The selective cutting program, if it had been started earlier and
Emanuel Fritz in second-growth redwood on Smith Place,
Mitchell Heights, above Ryan Slough, near Eureka.
Photograph by Harold Olson, August 24, 1950.
Fritz: followed by a firm policy in the front office, each operator In
terested in permanence would now have not only young trees on each
cutover acre but a handsome volume of upper q n ade lumber yield
from the residual trees scattered throughout the property. One
operator Is already In such good sha ( <e after thirty years of
selective cutting as to be able to continue lumbering In per
petuity and at his present rate. This is the Union Lumber Company.
The other large operators are in position to cut continuously but
at a reduced rate unti I the young growth has caught up.
I am reminded of what one of the engineering professors used to
tell us: "Never sell an idea short." In other words, it may be
untimely, it may be way ahead of its time, but all it needs is
some additional work, some change of the economic situation or,
as in the case of the gas turbine, until a metal is perfected to
withstand the terrific corrosive effect of the jet stream and the
high heat.
Maunder: In other words, the redwood market of the future, just as in the
case of the gas turbine engine, is going to be determined to a
great extent by technological change and new inventions and a more
favorable economic situation.
Fritz: Technological and economic. I have no feeling whatever that wood
will ever go off the market, and I can give you the reasons why in
a very few words. Redwood, as an example, is no different than
any other wood. Some of your finest black walnut nowadays comes
from farm-raised trees, coarse grained but the market buys it.
It pays several times more for it right now than it paid for the
beautiful stuff of the old days, the virgin stuff.
The market doesn t need upper grades for every item or for every
product. It can get along with the lower grades. So we are now
actually flooding the market with upper grades and getting a lower
price than their quality should command.
Fry: So what you discovered was that it s true that the grade of lumber
was much lower in the younger trees, but that it could still be
utilized by industry. Did you distribute these results to industry
or did Dave Mason?
Fritz: Yes. It was distributed in a typewritten sheet, and it was pub
lished in the local newspapers.
Fry: Did you get any feedback on this?
Fritz: Some. Each man who got a copy, especially those who got a copy
of the full typed report, stated that it was "very interesting."
But the reaction was uniform, and I should say unanimous, that it
will be a long time before we can market that kind of lumber. That
left me with the only real argument: that it takes a long time to
mature a merchantable tree and in order to have even this knotty
I 12
Fritz: second growth, forty or fifty years hence, you had better start
growing It now. Well, that, I think, sank In. I used to use
forty years as the time some mills could see the end of what they
then owned. It wasn t very long after that that they began to
leave a lot of seed trees and taue ar> entirely different atti
tude toward fires. That was in the late I930 s when selective
cutting was undertaken. Thanks also to tractors which made it
possible.
It s forty years ago that I guessed forty years, so there was just
a difference of ten years in there.
Fry: Forty years for the old growth to last?
Fritz: Yes, providing they were logging it at the same rate. I missed
the boat by a wide margin because first of al I the war came on,
and the poorest grade of lumber was plenty satisfactory for many
customers.
And small mills are a part of the picture. A lot of that second
growth was owned by local families or nonresidents, generally by
inheritance, who had no interest whatever In lumber. But they were
pleased to get something back from their land. A number of these
smal I -owner second growth properties were logged clean. When the
war ended, the market collapsed but revived a few years later when
the housing and industrial markets boomed.
And the other part was that I didn t give enough credit to the in
genuity of engineers and to the possible changes in economic condi
tions in those factors which would permit the lumber manufacturer
to utilize his old trees much more cfosely. It was called close
utl I Ization.
In the early days of forestry, when I was still a student and even
before, there were many articles written about the waste in the
woods and at the mills. Lumbermen were excoriated as wasteful tim
ber barons. And we heard such terms as "reduce waste," and "utl-
"llze more closely." It was absolutely impossible In those clays be
cause you and I and everybody else would have spurned some of the
lumber that comes out of an old growth, thousand-year-old tree. It
Is not all peaches and cream. Some of It is as bad as a soft
tomato, and for the same reasons.
Fry: What were they referring to when they wanted you to "utilize it
more closely" then?
Fritz: Not long ago in one of the evening park lectures with tourists
gathered around the fire, the nature guide had given them a talk,
and somebody In the audience asked, "Why doesn t somebody pass a
law agpinst all these waste burners up there?" (This was in the
redwood country, by the way.) And the naturalist said, "Well,
they re very wasteful people. They waste a lot of lumber."
Fritz: Another question was raised, "Well, why don t they make something
out of it?" He said, "They re not interested." Just like that.
That man knew nothing about the situation.
The whole fact Is that lumbermen arc business men, and if they
could have made a nickel from every dollar they would have to in
vest In utilizing that waste, they would have done so because that
nickel was not really a nickel made but was really about twenty
cents made because It cost them money to dispose of that refuse.
Also the fire insurance was affected by what kind of a fire they
had for burning up this refuse.
You and I wouldn t buy the small stuff anyway. Some of the stuff
that they threw into the burner was short and narrow. Builders,
when they ordered a load of lumber, wanted boards sixteen feet long
because it divided evenly into the common sizes used in building.
But now the mills will save a piece only one foot long and two
inches wide. Those pieces are then rebuilt into wide boards that
can be made a mile long If there is room to handle them. From the
standpoint of wood technology, I would say that those boards are
superior in utility to a one-piece board: they are less likely to
warp and they are less likely to split. The glue joint is stronger
than the wood Itself.
The reasons for the change were the Improved economic situation,
the development of better adhesives, and better machines. Lumber
prices were better too. The user gave up some of his objection to
knots, coarse grain or other factors that ones caused sales resis
tance. Even a large portion of the bark Is used. (Ironically,
conservationists who once labelled lumbermen as wastrels now call
them so greedy that even scraps are sold!)
Fry: What kind of utilization was in the minds of the people back in
the Twenties when they called for "closer utilization"?
Fritz:" They had no idea. But it was politics to play up waste. Very
few consumers know what the manufacturer s problems are. Nobody
knew much about it. Foresters talked about it a lot, but didn t
thlnk it through. In the days when the spread between the price
of a perfect board and a knotty one was small, the buyer often
selected the better board even though one of lower grade and price
would have served the purpose.
Of course, the saws could be made thinner, but no steel had been
developed to carry the great strains. A large part of our lumber
is made by small sawmills, operated on small capital and unable
to afford the price of band head saws. Their I nserted-tooth cir
cular head rigs make about fifteen percent more sawdust than a
band ml I I .
Maunder: Even today would you say that this is a factor?
Fritz: Why, sure. Might be a good thing to penalize an operator buying
14
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
federal timber and sawing into boards on circular head rigs.
In other words, by saving on the kerf, there would be a tremendous
saving on forests?
Not only the kerf, but in a lot of these small circular sawmills, the
man who is operating the saw is like a truck driver who owns his own
truck. He doesn t even spend Saturdays and Sundays to repair his
truck if he can get a load to haul on these days. . He cuts corners
and takes chances. So the small sawmill man can t stop unless his
equipment breaks down.
The situation was especially bad during World War (I. I drove my
car very slowly behind many a truck of lumber. The boards were
often badly manufactured one edge thinner 1han the other, some
overly thick, some offset because the top saw was not well aligned
with the lower saw.
Well, what about the standards?
that time, is that right?
They were just not applicable at
The standards were good, but let s look at
man s lumber does not go directly out into
of it does now that is
it this way. That small
the trade. (A large part
in the form of two-by-fours and two-by-eights.
That s practically the only part that s a production line product.)
They got by because their lumber went to dealers who had a planing
mill and kilns even, for surfacing and seasoning. Many boards sawn
for one inch rough would not dry or plane out to the market thick
ness standard.
What did Professor Krueger think about the results of your work on
second growth? Did he help write this up?
No. He wasn t on the staff at that time. He was actually in the
logging business at the time. Later at the University of California
he taught logging.
Oh yes, this was when he was working for Pacific, I guess.
Pacific Lumber Company and later, Korbel. He was the only one on
the staff who had any practical experience in forestry and logging.
Did he pick up these results and try to work with them and influence
his own company?
He was a logging engineer. When the reforestation was undertaken,
he was put in charge of it. His own company, The Pacific Lumber
Company, had him plant up some of their cutover lands with the
seedlings raised in the nurseries that Mason had set up. Later
he went back into logging but this time at Northern Redwood Company
at Korbel .
Fry:
Did this lead to anything else in your further research?
I 15
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder;
Fritz:
Maunder:
I never did very much research. You can call that research if you
wish, but ! wouldn t call It that. It s just going out and getting
some data. It Isn t research In the sense as used on the campus.
I never regarded myself as a scientist or as a researcher. I think
I was more of an experimenter.
Did your investigation on the Union Lumber Company s lands have any
significance in getting you interested In redwoods?
Yes. In fact, I had no business out in the woods then. I was not
expected to go into the woods unless I wanted to see where the logs
came from. My teaching job made visits to sawmills, and the yards,
and the factories desirable. I knew nearly every sawmill in the
state and the principals, pine and redwood. But at that time, I
had no desire, no intention, no thought of ever making redwood any
kind of a specialty.
It is true that I spent more time on redwood, but I spent a great
deal of time on the other woods also, because as a wood technologist,
I had to know them all. It was very useful information and good
experience for a teacher expected to be knowledgable about wood,
Its manufacture and uses.
Your real work
that right?
in redwoods didn t begin until the Thirties, Is
I didn t begin seriously until about 1934. But I had gotten inter
ested in the redwood forest. There were very few foresters there
at the time, most of them hired through Mason by the companies pri
marily to conduct the nurseries and to set up the plantations. You
can probably get a record of that rather large and extensive pro
gram of reforestation from Mason or from Metcalf.
Do you credit Dave with starting the redwood people to thinking
seriously about forestry?
The redwood people were behind the eight ball. In the discussions
between industry and others, particularly Mason, they probably
thought they had to do something about It to meet the save-the-
redwoods campaign. Dave also helped In making the campaign for
parks. I think the League retained him for a study.
Was this before or after Dave
practice for himself in about
left the faculty?
1921.
He went into
Yes. He had been a professor here from 1915 to 1917, then he was
In military service, after which he was with the federal govern
ment in Washington with the Bureau of Internal Revenue. He or
ganized the timber end of the Bureau.
He came back to Cal briefly In 20 and left in the spring of 21.
I could be a year off in my dates.
I 16
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
He decided to quit teaching. I think he had pretty much the same
experience here that I had in those early years. He could, as well
as I, maybe even better, see that lumbering is the tall of the doq
In forestry; nnd he was a sort of a practical fellow and had spent
a lot of time studying the lumber Industry on an original project
In the Inland Empire In northern Idaho and the adjoining parts of
Montana and Oregon and Washington. I was one of his assistants at
the time, as I told you.
What I was getting at was,
credited with arousing the
land management problems?
to what extent do you think he can be
industry to doing something about its
The campaign to save the redwoods served as a good pry to gain in
terest. He did a great deal to promote reforestation. There wasn t
much else that could have been done. The machinery that was in
vogue at the time was very powerful and very fast, and the way had
to be cleared from the stump to the landing, leaving the land bare.
This was the day of highly destructive logging.
It was called destructive, but It was actually about the best you
could do under the circumstances. The old ox teams couldn t supply
the logs es fast as the market needed the lumber. One man developed
a donkey engine suited to logging, another man tried out wire rope,
another man tried out this and that, so that it was a natural evolu
tion.
And Mason came in at a time when the donkey engines were made even
larger and more powerful, and he tried to get them to save some
strips along ridges to serve as seed trees. It was a logical thing
for a forester to think of, but (and this isn t generally under
stood by the public) in those days when even a forester would make
a suggestion, he had to realize and be aware that he was talking to
people to whom forestry was merely a cuss word, and to whom a for
ester was a persona non grata, a trouble maker. So a man had to
put up his arguments to the industry with considerable cleverness,
and I would say also a tentatl veness. It took a smooth talker to
put it over.
It is not generally known that the redwood operators were early
conscious of the need for reforestation. In the early 1900 s, they
planted eucalyptus. That tree was getting a great deal of public
notice because of land promoters. Some of those plantations still
stand. One company Caspar planted California laurel and California
(false) nutmeg. The Union Company thought the hardwoods should be
encouraged and made quite a study of possible products. Famed
botanist, Willis L. Jepson, also did some of the early missionary
work. -
17
Projects With the U.S. Forest Service
Maunder: Emanuel, I was reviewing a file of your correspondence this morning
which deals primarily with your rek-Mons with T. D. Woodbury and
others in San Francisco in the Regional Office of the U.S. Forest
Service there; and this file shows to what extent in principally
1937 and 38 research was going forward in the Forest Service in
the redwood region. The file shows your part in all this and your
close association and contact with Woodbury and others.
The papers show that a lot of goodwill existed between you and
Woodbury, but they also show that there was a good deal of feel
ing of hostility between you and Director Ed Kotok, here on the
campus in the California Forest and Range Experiment Station.
Indeed, it appears that you preferred at this time to do your work
in cooperation with the forest people in San Francisco rather than
with the people in the Experiment Station here in the building.
Fritz: Does that concern setting up a project?
Maunder: In the redwoods a selective logging experiment.
Fritz: Selective cutting. Yes, I remember that.
Maunder: And slash burning, that sort of thing.
Fritz: Yes. That got me Into a lot of trouble with the lumber people.
Maunder: Well, in your note attached to this file, which is evidently a
later appraisal of it that you have made in recent years, you say
this: "This file records a good cross section of (I) the diffi
culties in getting industry to become aware of its responsibilities,
(2) genuine Interest on the part of the principals of the larger
companies in forestry practices, (3) the ill will on the part of
the socialistic fringe of the U.S. Forest Service and those who are
hell-bent for federal regulation, and (4) constant harassment of
the industry and of its forestry consultant to handicap progress
of forestry, to keep the industry looking bad before the public."
Fritz: What date is that?
Maunder: Your note is not dated.
Fritz: This must have been in the Forties.
Maunder: That s your handwriting in the Forties period, is that right?
Fritz: Yes.
Maunder: Well, it s quite obvious here in this exchange of correspondence
that you had a number of projects going in close cooperation with
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
men in top management in the industry, in particular Leonard Ham
mond of the Hammond Lumber Company and Mr. C. R. Johnson of the
Union Lumber Company.
Now at one point in the correspondei ce here, Woodbury writes a
letter to you on May 24, 1937, In which he states that the Re
gional Office Is ". . . eager to give some helpful service in the
redwood region," that he is w.i I I i ng to insert this project, the
private forestry project on Hammond lands, into the program of
the Regional Office. They would be compiling logging and milling
data, and he says in his reply to you here, that previous studies
have been made in this same general area of subject matter for the
Amador Timber Company and the California Door Company, and that a
logging engineer by the name of John Berry had been involved in
this.
That was the brother of Swift Berry.
And that Berry, in attending a logging conference, had met you and
had asked you to get Interested parties at the logging conference
together, so that they could talk about this project. Do you re
member that particular matter?
That particular detail I don t remember, but I remember the thing
in its broad scale. What is it you wanted to know?
Maunder: Well, I just wanted to know a little bit abo-jt your relationship
with Woodbury and your appraisal of the man and the job that he did.
I want to ask you one or two questions in regard to it. You were
urging that the job be handled through. the Regional Office of the
Forest Service rather than the California Forest and Range Station,
which had already done surveys of a similar nature and had all of
the data that had to do with this. Now was this a deliberate ef
fort on your part to avoid doing the work through Ed Kotok because
of your feelings of antagonism?
Fritz: No. Kotok wouldn t be doing it anyway.
Maunder: Well, it would be somebody under Kotok. I realize it wouldn t be
Kotok.
Fritz: It was an economic study , wasn t it, rather than a mechanical study?
It was a study that Mr. Burnett of Hammond Lumber Company~asked me
aTJouT one d ay 7~and~ Woodbury was the one man I could deal with in the
Forest Service Office. He was the Assistant Regional Forester In
charge of silviculture or management. He had a very able man over
there, Charles Tebbe, who had made such a study In Slskiyou County.
It was a county study, and I was trying to get them to make one In
the Humboldt redwoods and to assign Tebbe to It.
One way to get the Forest Service to undertake a project which you
would think would help speed up interest in forestry was to let it
19
Fritz: be known that you were going to make such a study under the aegis
of the University. They d be over right away. Woodbury once wrote
to me: I suggest you don t go into this because we have it on our
program.
I had almost forgotten about this project. Mr. Burnett, vice presi
dent of Hammond Lumber Company, asked me i f we could undertake a
countrywide economic study of the forest resource situation. I
doubt that Burnett knew of the Siskiyou study by Tebbe. I believe
it was original with him. He was interested in such matters.
I could not handle the study and the school did not have the funds
to support !t. But I either wrote or talked to Woodbury that we
have been requested to consider making such e study. It was then
that Woodbury asked me to lay off, because he had the same thing
in mind. Naturally, I encouraged him to undertake it. Although
I kept after him, nothing ever came of it.
You said earlier the project concerned selective cutting. You con
fused me by bringing in the Hammond Company project. There was
Indeed another project on the lands of the Do I beer and Carson Lum
ber Company, on Elk River. It came about this way: After the pas
sage of the National Recovery Act under which, in Article X, the
lumber industry agreed to leave Its cutover lands in a productive
condition, the Industry was to be its own policeman. I was asked
to be advisor to the redwood people in effectuating practices which
would implement the purpose of Article X.
Maunder: Here a a letter from you to Woodbury, dated May 15, 1937. "Dear
Woodbury, Inasmuch as the Hammond Redwood Company plans to begin
logging its Eel River tract sometime early this fall" (That would
be fall, 1937) "and inasmuch as also the president, Mr. L. C.
Hammond, is very much interested in making this a sort of proving
ground for selective logging, I think it offers an unusual oppor
tunity for some cooperative work between your office of Public and
Private Cooperation and the Company. In fact, I think it is such
a good opportunity that you cannot afford to pass it up.
"At any rate if you are interested please let me know so that I can
take It up with the Company. Captain El am is at present making a
topographic map on which the final logging plan will be based.
Please let me know about this as soon as possible because logging
plans will have to be prepared before very long. I think this is
a job for your office rather than the Experiment Station."
Fritz: Now that you read that letter, It all comes back to me. As soon as
you mentioned that tract it was a five thousand acre tract, wasn t
it? This was not connected with the county study I just described
to you .
Maunder: I don t know. It doesn t say.
120
Fry: On Eel River, near Camp Grant.
Fritz: That was a different project. I had worked on a tract adjoining
the Hammond tract and belonging to the Pacific Lumber Company.
Knowing that general area, I though* it to be an ideal area to get
selective cutting data. Incidentally, that tract was the one I
thought the Forest Service should have bought In the days when it
wanted a redwood national forest. It was only five thousand acres,
and it would have been under operation in 1937. They would have
gotten necessary data right away, data we badly needed, then and
since.
Maunder: Why didn t they?
Fritz: That s a good question. When the Save-the-Redwoods League learned
that the U.S.F.S. was examining a tax delinquent tract in Del Norte
County, Newton Drury called a meeting. We were talking about it
over here in Berkeley: Newton Drury, S. B. Show, T. D. Woodbury,
E. I. Kotok, and maybe several others. The Forest Service had ig
nored the Save-the-Redwoods League. We felt the U.S.F.S. should
have learned what the League had in mind to acquire for parks.
The acquisition program of the League could have been seriously
affected by the Forest Service s purchase pians.
The meeting was held on the ground floor of tne Bank of America
Building in Berkeley, and I remember recommending to Show and Wood-
bury, "Why don t you try to buy that five thousand acre piece of
Hammond s and make that a part of your national forest; because
if you really want to do what you say you want to do, which is to
get the data to help the lumber industry to do a better job In log
ging, there s your opportunity."
Fry: Was this in a meeting with Newton Drury of the Save-the-Redwoods
League?
Fritz: Yes. They said, "We can do better if we go to Del Norte County.
We can get far more acres for less money." So I said, "How is
that going to help you in getting information to help forestry in
the industry? By the time that Del Norte (Ward Estate) property
can be opened for logging, the end of the old growth will be so
close that the figures won t have any meaning."
That s what actually happened. It was twenty years before they
actually started to log that land and then in a very small way.
Nothing has come from the studies of actual use to the redwood in
dustry in logging old growth that it did not already know.
Fry: I don t understand why it takes longer to log it in Del Norte than
in Humboldt County.
Fritz: There was no economical transport up there then. It was considered
more or less inaccessible. It was eighty miles from the railroad.
121
Fritz: To that you had to add the trucking of the logs over a road not
designed for heavy truck traffic.
Fry: What did Drury think about this suggestion, If he wanted this
for a park? Weren t you on the Council of the Save-the- Redwoods
League at that time?
Fritz: Yes, I have been a Council member since 1934. It wasn t a
question of a national forest versus a state park at the time.
Drury had to know what the Forest Service wanted to buy or what
it was examining for a future national forest, because then the
League would know whether it should stay away or whether it would
protest it as a possible purchase by the League for a state park.
The U.S.F.S. finally bought that land at about twenty-five cents
per thousand board feet, dirt cheap. It was an excellent "buy"
for the U.S.F.S. It has been selling it for fifteen dollars or
more. The sales had nothing to do with research. That same
timber, at present, if it were near Scotia, would bring about
fifty dollars. That s where distance makes the big value.
It was a classic Instance of the Forest Service talking through
both sides of its mouth. It was not so much, as I said, an interest
in getting data to help companies to do a better job. It was really
to satisfy an old desire to have a redwood national forest. To
satisfy this ambition, the U.S.F.S. missed a great opportunity to
institute a prospect! ve I y very useful research project. That
project, when finally set up, came too late.
By establishing its redwood national forest in Del Norte County, its
research results would be applicable only in that county and north
ern Humboldt County. The redwoods are quite different as to site
factors in middle Humboldt and southward. A forest stretched in a
thin strip for five hundred miles of latitude in California is
certain to vary greatly. Furthermore, most of the lumbering is
southward. It was only during the World War II years that
lumbering became important in Del Norte.
Maunder: Let s get back to the study projects.
Fritz: Yes, let s do that, because we are confusing several projects.
More and more comes back to me as we talk.
There was another one for which E.T.F. Wohlenberg deserves credit
for involving the U.S.F.S. My part was only that of a catalyst.
Wohlenberg had been for many years the timber man of the Internal
Revenue Service and was now, about 1940, returning to the Forest
Service. Just previously, Roy Wagner of the U.S.F.S. San Francisco
Office had completed several great studies in the pine region on a
thorough analysis of timber stands, their make-up, the effect of
tree size on costs, and so forth. I felt we badly needed such a
study In. the redwood country. Wohlenberg was highly respected among
foresters and lumbermen. He undertook to discuss the Wagner studies
122
Fritz: with redwood operators and found the Pacific Lumber Company res
ponsive. I had recommended to this company that It should have the
study made. Roy Wagner was detailed to take it on. Wohlenberg, at
the same time, Interested the I.R.S. In the taxation aspects. The
end sought was an encouragement of selective cutting.
Fry: Who in that company did you deal with and find most helpful there?
Fritz: The president and the manager. The president was A. S. Murphy, and
. E. Yoder was the manager and, of course, far more important be
cause he was the logging boss Gordon Manary. Wohlenberg discussed
It with me before the Company was approached. Wohly was an old
friend from our Arizona days.
Fry: Do you remember whether the Pacific study was initiated primarily
by the company, or by the Forest Service, or by you?
Fritz: It was suggested to the Forest Service by Wohlenberg and myself.
Most likely, Wohlenberg knew of the Wagner reports and thought the
redwood industry should have one too. The study made by Wagner on
the Pacific Lumber Company lands was a wonderful Job, very thor
oughly and nicely organized. He got a lot of valuable daTFTor
Organizing selective cutting Based on woods data.
But then, In I94J, we got Into the war [Second World War], and we
needed a whole lot more lumber than Industry was manufacturing for
France and Britain. Unfortunately for forestry and for the selec
tive cutting system, the Company s cutting program had to be tuned
to the war effort. The area on which the selective cutting system
was to be Installed had to be logged by the company s slack line
system of clear cutting to get out logs more quickly, rather than
doing it with tractors.
Maunder: But it raises hob with the land.
Fritz: Yes. The land was later seeded, but I don t think It caught very
well. We had a period of very dry years.
Fry: Where was this?
Fritz: It was on Jordan Creek, a tributary of the South Fork of the Eel
River. After the war, the Company gave up the slack line
for good and went wholly to tractors and selective cutting. The
Wagner data came into use. It was not lost because of the war.
Maunder: Was there an inclination on the part of the Forest Service to be
more interested in pine area research than in redwood research at
this time?
Fritz: The Forest Service had 150 million plus acres of timber to admin
ister, only a pittance of it In redwood. So naturally their re
search was concentrated on their own lands. Whatever they learned
123
Fritz: there could then be extrapolated to private lands. Now they
didn t get into redwood forestry for some years. I think I |-
was in 1ho Thirties when fhoy got started In the redwoods 1o
do some work. Show had written a bulletin In the I920 s but
that was taken largely from the work of others. They didn t
do much field work on It. Some blanKs were filled in by
Duncan Dunning of the Experiment Station.
Fry: This was a bulletin concerning what?
Fritz: "Minimum requirements for logging in the redwood region," I
think, that was the title.
Maunder: Well, the reason I brought this up was that in your correspond
ence in I937 with Woodbury, you mentioned the fact that you d
been talking with him about the matter of the industry taking
up practices of good forestry in the redwoods. And you say
that he was coming to you, but that his work facilities were
rather limited, and that the pine region demands took up a
major part of the Forest Service s time, and you understood
that. But at the same time, you thought It was hardly good
policy or even good salesmanship for putting over the forestry
Idea, to be overly critical of the redwood region until you can
find the time to get the necessary data for an effective sales
talk.
You go on: "I think you can afford to leave it alone until you
can present something really convincing, otherwise nothing but
antagonism is aroused. If and when your organization or any
other group has developed sound proof that what we want is good
business, and if the industry should then show a deaf ear just to
be contrary, I ll help you to be critical . I don t think it will
be necessary though. I haven t found one operator yet who will
turn down a good business proposition."
In other words, you re pointing out the opportunities that exist
for leading the redwood Industry, and you re suggesting to the
Forest Service in this letter that perhaps they do need to do more
studies that will have meaning to the redwood people.
Fritz: You ve read a great deal there that refreshes my memory. This was in?
Maunder: March 5, I937.
Fritz: We are still confusing the projects. You mentioned one for Hammond,
one for Pacific Lumber Company and one for Dolbeer & Carson. I
think you had the latter In mind. As I said, it was understandable
that the U.S.F.S. would concentrate fts research in the pine region.
Their men were trained in that region, and they had responsibility
there to the taxpayers because they were managing the taxpayers
pub I ic property.
Now, the fact that they were not doing any research in the redwoods
124
Fritz: was probably the result of a combination of things. First of all,
they didn t have the funds to go Into the redwoods for research
work; second, the redwood people didn t Invite It or there wasn t
a demand for It. There wasn t a demand In that sense, but there
was a real need for It.
Maunder: And you were pointing out the need.
Fritz: Yes. I don t recall how that happened to come up, but Woodbury and
I had corresponded on several occasions about research in the red
woods. It was brought about by Article X of the NRA Code. The
Forest Service men let it be known that they wanted to help.
practicing selective cutting because of
?
920 ? s, and many more there-
I was sold on the idea of
my experience with several trees in the
after, and by observing and boring a lot of trees that were left by
the early day loggers. I felt that we needed some more data to
help anybody, and especially myself, to back me up or back up my
argument that selective cutting should be given a fair trial.
I had one project in mind. Kotok came into this picture because
he was head of the Experiment Station. Now I don t know If this
particular project Is concerned In that letter that you read ex
tracts from, but In this project It was my Idea that the Forest
Service should find an area of modest size which would be logged
very promptly on which they could get all kinds of needed data:
the size of the trees, volume, quality, cost of logging, cost of
milling, and so on, and the grades that came out of it, tree by
tree, the "green chain cost" of the lumber. I had made studies
myself like that before and had even trained the students in mak
ing such studies at summer camp, but we had no facilities for an
extensive study like that.
So they set up a project with "Doc" Brundage in charge. He was a
very competent man, on Kotok s staff, and a very independent thinker,
He had made studies like this In the pine country, and I would like
to have had Brundage make such a study In the redwoods so that I,
or others, In talking to the lumber people about the feasibility
of the selective cutting system, would have some figures to back
me up. And of course, the Industry Itself would have been glad
to have that data.
Well, they made the study. I got Into some trouble over it.
Maunder: Why?
Fritz: The study was made on the Do I beer and Carson Lumber Company lands
on a seventy-acre piece. I had previously taken the Company s log
ging superintendent about it to get his approval. I would go up
there by night train and get there Saturday mornings. (In those
days, I930 s, they all worked on Saturdays.) I wanted to see how
things were going.
125
Fritz: One day I was called to one side by the superintendent and was
asked In terms like this, "What In the world aid you get us into
here?" I said, "What s wrong?"
He said, "This Is supposed to be a study of selective cutting and
so on, but It turns out to be a program of Indoctrinating our crews
in socialism, public ownership."
"How is that possible? They re supposed to be out there getting
this data on trees and so on."
"I suppose they re getting that. But they had to stay at our camp
at night, and they would visit with the loggers and discuss socialism
versus private ownership of natural resources."
Maunder: Who was leading these discussions?
Fry: Were these forestry students who were working out there?
Fritz: No, they were all employees of the federal Forest Experiment Station
and the Regional Forestry Office In San Francisco. So I made some
Inquiries. I was astounded. The superintendent, Clarence La
Boyteaux, then told me there were more than twenty men on this job.
I couldn t figure out where they could use twenty.
It turned out that some of these men were "observers." The Forest
Service was eager to get into the redwoods. Here was an opportunity
to get a start for the proposed redwood national forest. Mr. La
Boyteaux was furious about the political work of these men after
working hours.
Fry: Well, what finally happened?
Fritz: Brundage did a very good job and prepared a report on his findings.
He was not involved in the politics. His mathematics were good but
the economics were missing. It meant that only six-foot trees were
profitable. The rest should be left standing. Now, six-foot trees
are in the minority. There wouldn t have been enough six-foot and
over to make the operation pay. It is dangerous business to apply
statistical methods to biological data. Economics had to be con
sidered too.
Maunder: What about H. L. Person, a si I viculturist? You must have had a
great deal to do with Person.
Fritz: Oh yes. I think he was responsible for the trouble In the Dolbeer
and Carson camp.
Maunder: Oh, you rrean he was the one who was preaching socialism?
Fritz: Yes.
Fry: He was the superintendent.
126
Fritz: He was the general In charge of the research, as I remember It,
but Brundage was In charge of the field work.
Maunder: Well, what can you tell us about H. L. Person besides that? He
did a lot of data gathering, did he not, on selective logging in
the redwood region? Wasn t he the man who was going to do the work
on the Hammond Eel River tract in 1937 or 38?
Fritz: I don t remember that. Person would not have made that one. That
was an economics study; Person was in silviculture. Person did make
a study on accelerated growth of redwood following selective cutting.
I think that was published as an article.
Maunder: Well, I can t help but come away from an examination of this cor-^
respondence file with an idea that there was a developing of good
feeling between you and members of the Forest Service over re
search projects in the redwood region in the late Thirties. It
wasn t all negative. You had rather good relations with this man,
Woodbury, in the U.S.F.S. administrative office In San Francisco.
Fritz: Well, that may be correct, but It had no relation with Woodbury,
as to his observers on the Do I beer and Carson study area. Of
course, ! took It up with Woodbury. I doubt that he knew what his
men were doing evenings. Anyway, the observers were recalled. That
left only the Experiment Station men out there to do the job.
Fry: Who brought them back?
Fritz: The Forest Service and the Experiment Station. They left only the
necessary men out there, not the sightseers and the "observers."
Woodbury and I were always good friends. I trusted him.
Maunder: You say, Emanuel, in this letter that I m particularly bearing down
on in this interview, that you and Woodbury are essentially seeking
to get forestry practiced in the redwoods but that you see the prob
lem in different terms. And you go on in your letter specifically:
"And please get over the idea that I am not in favor of pushing
redwood forestry or that I try to gloss over the shortcomings of
the Industry. We are trying to get the same objective but my methods
are entirely different than yours. Time alone will tell which Is
right."
Fritz: As I said, Woodbury and I were always on friendly terms and we dis
cussed things back and forth. When I was hospitalized one time, he
was the only Forest Service man to call on me.
Maunder: When were you hospitalized?
Fritz: It was in 38. Broken leg.
Maunder: Did you maintain friendly relations with him for a long time after
he retired?
127
Fritz: Yes.
Maunder: Is he sti I I I Iving?
Fritz: He s still living. I heard recently he s not In the best of health,
I tried my best to get him to write something about his early days,
but I think when he retired he became a loner.
Fry: Bitter?
Fritz: Bitter, maybe. And shucks, I had more reason to be bitter than he.
Bitterness will ruin a man if it isn t controlled.
Maunder: Do you know where he lives in retirement?
Fritz: East Oakland. I think you d have a hard time getting anything out
of him though.
Fry: What s he bitter about?
Fritz: Oh, perhaps his own experiences in the Forest Service.
Maunder: What were these that made him bitter, do you know?
Fritz: Well, one of them was that he and a lot of his friends thought he
should have been the Regional Forester instead of S. B. Show. It
would have been a far better choice considering the way things
turned out, although Woodbury himself was pretty hard on his own
men. This is all right. There s no reason why a man shouldn t
be hard on his own men If he Is also fair. Woodbury was always
on the level with me. I was told once that he defended my course
of action in endeavoring to get forestry into the redwoods.
Industry Cooperation and Forestry Attempts
The Union Lumber Company
Maunder:
Fritz:.
Maunder:
Fritz:
Which among the redwood companies would you say were more cooperative
in the first stages of forestry practice in that region?
Easily the Union Lumber Company. It helped me by opening its opera
tions to me as early as 1921 or 1922. In time, all the principal
operators gave me an ear and cooperation.
Why do you single them out first?
First of all, the president of the company, Charles R. Johnson, was
a man of much broader view than the presidents of the other companies
in the I920 s. He felt that it wasn t right to log redwood the way
128
Fritz: he was logging, but that it was the only way he could log it and
come out ahead. Every timber company was in debt to the banks
and bondholders. It was a terrible sword of Damocles over their
heads.
When I needed help to carry on a sawmill study, C. R. Johnson gave
it. He was all for it. Long before that, C. R. Johnson spent
thirty-five or forty-five thousand dollars a lot of money in
those days to make a study of the hardwoods that they encounter
when they log redwood to see what can be done with them as a crop.
But economics were not favorable.
Fry: This was a study on utilization of hardwoods?
Fritz: Very much so. Hardwoods mixed with the redwood in many areas. He
also wanted to do something about his cutover lands. He wanted
to get them to grow up again.
Fry: This was after you came when he tried to do something about cut-
over lands?
Fritz: He had that idea long before I came. I merely helped it along, but
I didn + generate the idea in his mind. You see, in the early days
of redwood lumbering, the coastal area was cut off from the rest of
the state. You couldn t get up there except by boat or very poor
roads.
Union Lumber Company and Humboldt County mills were accessible only
by boat. It wasn t until 1914 and 1915 that they got a through
railroad, the Northwestern Pacific, owned jointly by the Santa
Fe and Southern Pacific railroads. Prior to the extension of
N.W.P.R.R. north from Will its, the Union Lumber Company had its
own railroad from Fort Bragg to Will its.
It was yery difficult to get meat in there, for example. So they
thought they ought to raise their own meat, but where to raise it?
It was logical to raise it on cutover land. As soon as the for
est was cut, they would burn all the trash and then seed the land
to grass, mostly orchard grass. It would yield good forage for
about three years. Each year the cutover land area was added to,
so there was always a fresh area to reseed and run stock on. The
grass was thinned out by invading brush and trees.
Later on, the economic situation was different. There were rail
roads, and the lumbermen gradually gave up running of cattle on
their own lands or leasing that use to others. The lumber people
were actually in the cattle business, as well as lumbering.
In the early 1910 s, Mr. Johnson heard about the eucalyptus boom
and thought, "Well, let s try it out," and they planted quite an
area to eucalyptus. And some of the other redwood companies did
the same. Some of those stands of eucalyptus are still there.
129
Fritz: They re very valuable to the forester because they give him an
idea of what this particular species of eucalyptus could endure
as to cold and frost and winds and whatnot and what kind of wood
they make.
Fry: Were they planting this for commercial ....
Fritz: For lumber, hopefully. The West Is rich in conifers, but very
poor in good hardwoods.
Fry: Did he have a specific idea about utilization at the time?
Fritz: He must have. The world needs hardwoods as well as soft woods.
Redwoods are regarded as soft wood. The principal claim made for
eucalyptus was its rapid growth, as against what was believed to
be the slow growth of redwood.
Fry: But eucalyptus didn t work out, did it?
Fritz: It didn t work out because you couldn t grow it in competition with
the very fine hickory and oak and ash and others from the eastern
U.S. Worse, eucalyptus is very hard and heavy and difficult to
season and work. In 1923, the owners turned to reforestation with
redwood and Douglas fir. That program came to a sudden end when
the Depression started.
Fry: Why did this end with the Depression? Just a general lack of
funds you mean?
Fritz: The mills were shut down; business was dead.
Fry: There were no si I vicultural problems Involved?
Fritz: Some. We haven t got some important answers to a I I of them yet.
Also, local people were cool to reforestation. Some hired for
planting did very poor jobs. Fires destroyed some plantations.
Mr. Johnson was a broad-minded man. He took a chance on a lot of
things, both mechanical in the mill and also out in the woods, even
on equipment. He was one of the first men to try out a tractor in
the middle 1920 s.
Fry: And I guess he had a swing at selective cutting in redwood?
Fritz: That came afterward. Mr. Mason, of course, was interested in se
lective logging, and his activity In It I think got a boost from
the report I wrote in 1923, about that cutting experiment on Big
River in which there were several trees left by the early loggers
which showed what they will do when they are left standing for seed
trees and further growth.
Fry: Who was in Mr. Johnson s Company who helped him with all these things?
130
Fry: Did he have some bright young forester? This was before there
were any foresters at all, wasn t It?
Fritz: No, there were no foresters at all. But several of his officials,
like Bob Swales, Walter Collins, anr 1 Ross, were interested. I n 1921 or
1922, he began to hire some foresters to carry on the reforestation
program. They built up a very large nursery, probably one of the
largest in the state. They went into it very seriously and con
scientiously.
Fry: For your own part in this, were you a consultant for the Union
Lumber Company later on, from 1934 on?
Fritz: I had nothing to do with the planting program. I did no consult
ing work until about 1934, that is, private work for compensation.
Don t forget, I was teaching wood technology and lumbering, not
forestry.
The University gets calls every day from taxpayers for advice on
many things. When wood was Involved, the inquiries would filter
Into my mall tray. For example: "Can the University send a man
to see why I have dry rot In my house?" I would go and determine
If It Is rot or termites and advise the owner on what to do. I
crawled under dozens of houses, Into attics, over wooden bridges,
and so forth. I felt it was my Job to learn from actual contact
with problems.
The lumber people too, once they lost their fear of professors,
would ask for advice on their lumber drying problems, dry kilns,
wood properties, wood preservation, and so forth. I regarded it
as Extension work. It was very valuable to my teaching. From
1919 to 1934, I never requested or received compensation for such
advice. I profited, however, in that I was building up practical
experience to use in my courses.
Consulting in the Redwoods
Maunder: Emanuel, you say that for a long time, over twenty-five years, you
worked without a promotion here and at the same pay, and that you
were obliged in order to meet your expenses to go outside and do
consulting work. Where did this develop? Where did you find your
first clients? Who were they?
Fritz: Yes, I could not live the way I wanted to live on my salary. Being
placed on academic status in 1934, I felt free to charge for my
services when they were for people in business who sought help
for business purposes.
Well, somebody would telephone to the University and would ask for
some advice about a timber sale contract, a builder would want ad
vice regarding lumber, a lawyer would ask for advice and maybe court
appearances In cases concerning wood use. I had picked up a lot of
experience on the practical side, and I d give a caller an answer
over the telephone. And he would say, "Well, can t you come out?"
131
Fritz: I d say, "Well, I ll have to do that weekends." But it got to be
a burden. I spent more time under people s houses than I did in
the office, I would tell them, "From the way you describe it, it s
this and that and that. It can t be anything else, and this is
what I would recommend that you do." "No, I Insist that you come
out."
My first fee came when one day a man wanted to know if a piling
contractor was supplying tKS right species to go under a very large
and very heavy building. He wanted to know if Oregon pine is as
good as Douglas fir. Naturally, I said not only as good, but they
are one and the same thing.
Maunder:
"Well," he said, "I won t accept that over the telephone.
you to go out in the woods and examine the trees from which
pilings are made. Can you
do it?" I told him I d have
want
these
to do it on
my own time. He said, "That s all right. We ll expect you to do
it on a professional basis."
That s the way it all started, and then of course, when Article
X came out, it was different altogether; then it began to grow
from there. From the consequent experience, I feel that every
professor should be permitted to do outside work to help sharpen
his teaching.
From that time
work?
on in the Thirties, you had a lot more consulting
Fritz:
Maunder:
Not at all "a lot." I want to have this on the record. Never did
my outside work interfere with my teaching. My redwood work never
paid any more than a modest retainer. I regarded most of it as
Extension work. Concurrently I made a number of independent Im
promptu studies on redwood tree and forest details to fill in the
gaps in the general knowledge for application in the selective
cutting program, as well as a better understanding of the struc
ture of the wood itself.
There is always the danger that outside work will cause suspicion
of overdoing it. I can say frankly that my private work was minimal.
My teaching never suffered. Rather, it was benefited. Most of what
others would call consulting work was actually what I should have
been doing anyway as a teacher to improve my experience.
I could have made consulting a major job and it would have been
profitable, but It would have meant resigning from U.C. And I
wouldn t resign for anything in the world. I liked the job, I
liked the people and they trusted me, I liked the state and I had
my roots too deeply in the effort to put forestry into the woods
where It belongs rather than in preachment.
I don t want to get into a long discussion. There are just a few
other things I want to clear up here. One is that you were doing
132
Maunder: consulting work in this period, in the middle Thirties. Was this
a time when you began to be involved In redwood consultancy, or
was your consultancy In another area?
Fritz: It started In cases where my wood ttohnology and acquaintance with
lumber was required. I wasn t really ever a consultant to the Red
wood Association. More correctly, I was their advisor but on their
records I was a consultant.
Maunder: I mean the redwood companies.
Fritz: For several redwood companies I prepared reports on what needs to
be done to put the operations on a perpetual basis. This was done
on a professional basis.
Maunder: What is the essential difference between an advisor and a consul
tant?
Fritz: Not a great deal. An advisor is not necessarily paid much. The
consultant does work on a professional basis. He makes field studies,
prepares a report, and takes some professional risks. When I came
to the University of California, we were expected to do a certain
amount of Extension work and each year we were asked how much work
we did In teaching, how much in research, how much In Extension
services.
Maunder: None of which was for pay it was all part of your job?
Fritz: Yes. The job I did on Big River on the Union Lumber Company s
land in 1923, of which you asked me earlier, was all for the Uni
versity. The same was true of the Humboldt study. When I took on
the advisory work for the Redwood Association, I would have to go
into the woods, naturally, and talk to a lot of people, and I was
gaining a real knowledge of redwoods. I had to bootleg a lot of
experimental work which I should have done as a University man, and
did, but C.R.A. paid the expenses. It was all to get some data to
make selective cutting workable. The selective cutting program
should have been under the University in its entirety.
Maunder: Weren t you ever put to work on special assignment by David Mason
when he had an office in San Francisco and he was doing a lot of
work with the redwood companies?
Fritz: For pay? I should say not.
Maunder: He didn t?
Fritz: No.
Maunder: I wondered, because he was one of the early consultants who had
an income from the redwood industry.
133
Fritz: Mason was the type of man who wouldn t pay If he didn t have to.
He was more of an exploiter.
Mnunder: On some of the studies that wore made In the redwoods?
Fritz: That project on Big River he explained It to Mulford as his. That s
one reason it was never published. It was discouraging that Mulford
should listen to an outsider rather than to one of his own faculty
members. Mason was not a member of the U.C. staff then.
And then another time in 1928, I carried on a study on old growth
redwood as to what becomes of the wood in a redwood tree after it s
cut on a lumbering operation. It involved about 1250 trees. That
was a job. That s the most I m not bragging but that was the
most complete job that was ever done on getting information on any
redwood trees. It has been used by the U.S. Forest Experiment Sta
tion on several occasions since. They made use of my data on a
cull study but never gave credit to the University or to me.
You wonder sometimes why I have been critical of the Forest Service.
If anybody deserved criticism, It was that bureau. They are al
together different now.
Maunder: Well, you were commenting here a minute ago about Dave Mason s use
of people. Can you cite any instances where this imposed on you
personally in doing things for him that . . . ?
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
I d rather not go into this further. He wasn t fair with me, but
I will mention one matter that was revealing as to where I stood.
It soured me on formal research.
In some research study?
I was engaged on a large project in 1928 to learn what becomes of the
contents of a felled forest. It is important to have an answer be
cause, obviously, the conversion of a tree into lumber is^aTtended
by considerable waste; for a tree is tapered, contains sapwood and
bark, is often irregular in cross section, and, in the case of old-
growth stands, frequently very defective. Once the volume of this
unavoidable waste is known, one can determine how much money one
dare spend on studies aimed at its utilization.
Well, the project was well under way when Walter Mulford, the head
of our department, came to my office one day and suggested that I
restrict my project because D. T. Mason had taken on a similar
study on the same property as a consultant.
I refused, because my project was entirely different except that
the data could be used for such studies as selective cutting. My
assistants and I were not inconvenienced much but we did learn the
difference between selective logging and selective cutting. I worked
on the theory that once a tree is felled it should be used as closely
as market conditions justified.
134
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder;
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Let me make a generalization here and see how you react to it.
It sometimes almost seems as if there s a lot of diplomatic ex
change between protagonists In this struggle on the one hand the
lumbermen, on the other hand thfi Forest Service In which they go
through a lot of artful dancing back and forth, loving each other
at close range, but whenever they get amongst themselves in their
own council they are savagely attacking one another. When the
foresters are in their own bailiwick, they are calling the lumber
men ravagers of the woods and devils incarnate. When the lumber
men are assembled in their council, they are damning the Forest
Service from hell to breakfast. Now this repeats itself over and
over again, it seems to me.
You are very discerning. It used to be that way, but times have
changed. There is more mutual understanding and better cooperation.
There s always a lot of nice friendly talk back and forth among you
guys on opposite sides of the fence, but frankly one comes away
from the whole examination thinking that for al! the friendly ex
change and talk, you really hate each other s guts. And you really
don t trust each other any farther than you can throw a bull ele
phant by the tai I .
Now that s my impression of It. And excuse me,
tor tans, for enclosing this personal view Into
interview,
get off my
but frankly this
chest.
is Just something I feel I ve got to
you future his-
an oral history
t,
Fritz: Well, I would say that you have a very penetrating mind.
that I m on
neither side.
a member of
I m very
I m not a member of
glad that I can say
the Forest Service, and I m not a member of the lumber industry.
In my position I can be independent. But I will say that the For
est Service was trying to do on its own lands what 1 was trying to
get private owners to do on their land. So there couldn t be any
opposition there. But whenever the Forest Service would try to do
something which I would interpret as an attempt to spread its con
trol beyond its own forests, I felt I should make my feelings known,
And in the redwoods you really felt that there was lots and lots
of evidence that this was what the Forest Service was trying to do?
And they had a wonderful chance right after World War I I closed.
What was that?
i ntro-
I ion
When Helen Gahagan Douglas, at that time a congresswoman
duced a bill to purchase the entire redwood region for $500 mil
to set up a great Franklin Delano Roosevelt National Park and a
great Franklin Delano Roosevelt National Forest.
Was this all to be accomplished within one grand purchase for over
$500 mi I lion?
135
Fritz: They couldn t touch it for $500 million, but they didn t know that.
Maunder: Well, why do you say the Forest Service lost a grand opportunity
at that point after the war?
Fritz: To prove it was really sincere about its trying to help the in
dustry rather than to get control of it.
Maunder: I see. What was the Forest Service s position on the Douglas Bill?
Fritz: Well, wouldn t you be for it if you were among the top brass in the
Forest Service? Here s a chance to get a big chunk of forest land
and have a new national forest. And the Park Service would be
happy to get a new park. Each asked for too much to win.
Maunder: I don t know whether I would or not. Who was the Chief Forester
at that time?
Fritz: Lyle Watts, wasn t it?
In spite of the fact that I m very much in favor of parks, and
would have favored a national park and a national forest if they
had gone about it in a statesmanlike manner rather than just go
out there and practically blackjack the owners and blackmail them
before the public, that isn t the way to do things.
Fry: What was done here in California when the Douglas bill came up?
Fritz: There was opposition.
Fry: And you were probably a part of it. CLaughter]]
Fritz: Well, in the sense that I injected myself into it; but I was never
asked to take a part by anybody, including the redwood people. The
redwood people are an interesting lot. They are highly individu
alistic, and even though I was their advisor on forestry matters,
they could have come to me because I was on a retainer basis. They
didn t regard me as a salaried employee; I was a "subcontractor,"
you might say. They never asked me to take an active part in the
controversy. I acted solely on my own.
My sole interest was to see that the redwood lands were so managed as
to put the industry and its dependents on a firm and perpetual basis.
The cut-out-and-get-out policy was ending. Why throw a monkey
wrench into the works?
Maunder: They never sent you to Washington, for example, to lobby against
this legislation?
Fritz: No. They never asked me to lobby in Washington or Sacramento.
Maunder: You did, I recall, come out with strong statements on it in the
136
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder: American Forest Magazine, and I m not sure but I think you wrote
Fritz:
something for the Journal of Forestry on it.
I don t remember, but I could have done It. I get very much con
cerned when I think of some of the ^hlngs that are being done in
this country even right now under the present administration. A
first-generation American of north European extraction is more
jealous of and more eager to preserve the American system of fair
play and of private enterprise than Mayflower descendents.
Maunder: Well, cite a few things j
\ a^e specifically to what we ve been
talking about. What things are not kosher in the current redwood
national park controversy?
you know
wouldn t
who
you,
Supposing you wanted to buy a piece of property and
the owner is. You would deal with the owner first,
even though you had to deal through an attorney?
Right.
You wouldn t go out and spread the gospel in the newspapers that
had a better way of handling that land than Its owner, call
you
him
greedy and too profit conscious, destructive, and so on, or say
,
that he s ruining the land and you should be supported In taking
it over
Maunder: If you re asking me what I would do, I ve never contemplated buy
Fry:
Fritz:
ing anything except a house. I ve never heard of anybody using
the tactic you re talking about to buy a house.
Haven t you been called in as consultant on
park question for the Save-the-Redwoods League?
this redwood
national
The Save-the-Redwoods League rarely comes to me for any advice
either on technical or otfier~"matters. On my own I would bring
some matters sometimes.
up
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
They used to come to you, according to your correspondence files.
Not on matters affecting decisions except in a most general way.
In my early days I would make suggestions about, for example, a
museum, or helping get selective cutting established or at least
recognized. It was desirable that the fine state parks be supple
mented by well-managed adjacent commercial operations. They could
have accomplished more I think if they had had a man on their
board who could have advised them on those matters.
Well, I was trying to establish what your connection is with the
proposed redwood national park, just for the record.
Merely as a very
question. I was
interested onlooker.
asked by the Redwood
You asked me a
Association if I
definite
would write
Emanuel Fritz, "Recommendations for Accelerating the Acquisition
of Redwood Lands for State Parks," presented to Save-the-Redwoods
Leaaue Council. 23 October 1952. See Appendix Af PP.
137
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz :
Fry:
magazine and press articles about the redwood parks, but I declined.
I was not Interested In manufacturl nq public Imaqes. One thlnq was
sure. I felt the manaqement of the T>lerr;i Club was less inforosted
In preserving redwoods than In creating a reputation of saviors.
The Club resorted to false statement and slanted propaganda. I
never qot the whole story from either side as to who Initiated all
this, or why the propaganda for a park had to be so offensive. I
tried to get it just yesterday at lunch and I failed miserably. My
belief is that the Sierra Club started it without consulting the
League or the owners, perhaps for the impact of surprise.
Tried to get the story from whom?
Sometimes I went to a park man and sometimes I would go to an in
dustry man. Being retired, I have no official source of information.
I think this
since 1919.
is a question that has been wandering around ever
Fritz: Well, you are given that impression, but it s like starting in a
business and selling out, and then going across the street and
starting another business some years later, the same kind of a
business. When the park issue was dropped out In the early 1920 s,
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
it dropped out cold,
the same tactics, the
And when It was up
park lost again.
again In the 1940 s with
Who is "they"? The Sierra Club?
the Sierra Club, the National Park Service, and their supporters
my view, the League was ignored, yet the League was the wheel
Yes,
From
horse since 1918 and accumulated all the best
call that the Sierra Club had much to do with
I940 s. If so, it was not an active part.
groves
it in the
I don t
1910 s
re-
or
Conservation agencies, as you probably have learned, are no better,
no stronger, and no more honest than their executive heads. Some
conservationist executives have mainly a job interest in conserva
tion, or a determination to be another John Muir. Some have de
veloped to a fine art the agitation of the public with the "scare
hell out of them" tactic.
Do you think the executives in these organizations are becoming
more expert in accomplishing just that?
They generally have good stated objectives but the methods of some
are questionable. You have only to study the publicity on the
redwood park issue.
Before we close
tional park but
this, let me add that there
it will be in the wrong place.
will be a redwood na
It will not be as
good timber or as accessible as the existing redwood state parks.
The League, under Drury, has already acquired the best stands. The
Sierra C ub, without checking with anyone, arrogantly included three
138
Fritz: of the best state parks In the area it demanded for a national
park. Without them, the national park Is without a flaq. I hope
the shite of California will not give up the two the latest bill
Includes. These parks belong to California; the taxpayers paid
one half of the cost, private donorr gave the other half. Our
state park people have done an excellent job administering them.
The National Park Service can do no better.
The Tree Farm Movement
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder;
Fritz:
Maunder:
Emanuel, how did legislation in the early Forties affect the
lumber industry?
Near the end of World War I I , we had some legislation called the
Sustained Yield Forest Management Act.
Yes, in 1944.
It was to establish cooperative sustained yield management units
between the private timber owners and the Forest Service with its
own timber. Only one unit has been set up, that of Simpson Tim
ber Company, a ninety-nine year contract.
Why only one since then? Wasn t this a good idea?
I urn-
It was a grand idea, but just then the situation changed. The
ber industry was carrying the ball for the first time. In 1941,
it had set up a tree farm system. That program had two reasons
behind it. One is generally spoken of as growing new forests.
Second, companies wanted to practice forestry on their lands for
effectuating their hope of continuity of production. They couldn t
do it as long as the public was so careless with fire and didn t
give a damn as long as it was the other fellow s property that
they burned down. And they needed more old growth to carry them
over to the time their young forest was to be merchantable.
Wasn t industry threatened again by federal cutting regulation, and
this was a reaction to prevent that legislation?
And in some way to soften the controversy over regulation.
I ve had the impression, in reading the background of this story,
that a very considerable amount of the impetus for the creation
of the tree farm program stemmed from what industry saw as a ris
ing tide of new effort to get regulatory legislation passed; and
they felt they had to do something to demonstrate dramatically
before public opinion that they were capable of managing their own
af fai rs.
Fritz: Well, that probably had something to do with it, but I don t think
it was the main reason. And I wouldn t blame them for it.
Canyon Acres Tree Farm Dedication, April 17, 1954. Tree farmer
E.O. Freeman, left, points out his acreage to Professor Emanuel
Fritz, Consulting Forester, California Redwood Association.
Professor Emanuel Fritz at Union Lumber Company
tree farm dedication. May, 1951.
139
Fritz: The tree farm system from the very start was jeered at by Forest
Service men. Several came into my office at different times and
said, "What do you know about this tree farm system?"
"I don t know; it just started. Whai do you think about it?"
"Oh, I think it s just window dressing."
Well, when you have a program like that, somebody s going to get
on the band wagon and use it for window dressing, but the majority
will take it seriously.
The tree farm system started on Weyerhaeuser land. That company
was unquestionably sincere toward perpetual operation. This policy
requires public support in preventing forest fires. The program
grew from that small start. It was a public relations effort, in
part to acquaint the public with forest management problems.
Maunder: There are good ones and there are bad ones.
Fritz: Just like there are good and bad farmers.
Maunder: All right. If somebody was just doing it for window dressing,
couldn t he be tossed out of the system? Tree farms, after all,
had to be certified as tree farms.
Fritz: Yes.
Maunder: And if they did not perform to certain standards, could they not be
"de-certified"? And if this were done, it would offset the criti
cism, would it not?
Fritz: Some tree farms were indeed de-certified. Well, you can t do much
in three years. The Sustained Yield Act was passed about 1944,
and the tree farm system was started in 1941. The criticism was
that this was window dressing in an effort to throw the public off
its guard. I think It was very unfair. If a man promised you
that he s going to do a certain thing, you better wait and see
that he does it before you suspect his sincerity.
Maunder: Now let me ask you a question. To what extent did this attitude
towards tree farming represent the thinking of all people within
the Forest Service? Was It something that went right down through
the ranks from the top to the bottom?
Fritz: No Indeed. There were plenty of men in the Forest Service ranks
who felt the tree farm idea is good and should be encouraged.
Public men who talked conservation outside were the most careless
with Uncle Sam s and the taxpayers money. Now making a dollar
go as far as possible is also conservation, and there s also the
conservation of time you only have twenty-four hours a day. If
you waste some of it, you can t get it back.
140
Maunder: Charles Dunwoody, with whom I had an interview just the other day
in Pomona, told me that he was directly responsible for getting
Ed Kotok all kinds of money for special projects, both from the
state legislature and from the federal Congress. Can you tell
me anything, about that?
Fritz: Well, I wasn t close to that, but knowing both Kotok and Dunwoody,
I would say that if Dunwoody was capable of influence of that kind,
Kotok would certainly use Dunwoody very well. I remember one case
which was talked about a great deal here. I think he got some
thing like $25,000 for, I believe, watershed protection research
in southern California. The first thing he did was to buy an auto
mobile, which he used as a private car, since he had no car of his
own. He could not do that with a federal car. He would oscillate
back and forth between his office and his home for lunch when there
were lunch rooms close to his office. That isn t conservation.
Maunder: He was right here in the building, is that right?
Fritz: Yes. IT was a very bad influence on some of our students.
Maunder: In what way?
Fritz: Word would get around among students mostly those he employed on
a part-time basis the way he handled his affairs.
Maunder: Was his kind of behavior the kind that they emulated or found
attractive?
Fritz: Who?
Maunder: The students.
Fritz: No, the students at that time were brought up under a different
phi losophy.
Maunder: I know, but would they be attracted by the kind of behavior
they . . . . ?
Fritz: No. They didn t want to work for a man like that.
Maunder: Well, when did this clique begin to lose its influence and power
in the profession?
Fritz: Just about the time the United States got into the Second World War.
Maunder: Why did they lose their influence?
Fritz: They had the war to think about.
Maunder: What happened then after the war?
Fritz: They tried to resuscitate. But things changed very rapidly after
141
Fritz: the war. The tree farm program was taking hold, and we in Cali
fornia saw the effects of several other things very strongly. For
example, the tree farm program was apparently being discussed among
the people themselves I mean the owners. And every once in a
while you d hear, up in the Douglas fir country, that such-and-
such company was buying up cutover land. Why? Because they
wanted to keep it growing to use when their own old growth was
used up.
We saw the impact in California. A number of small operators,
small logging contractors, and small mill men, had moved to north
western California, having learned that there was good timber in
the Douglas fir belt, just east of the redwood belt, which there
tofore was considered inaccessible. They would buy a quarter sec
tion here and a quarter section there, and set up a mi I I and a
little logging operation, and go to it. And we suddenly found
ourselves with several hundred additional sawmills in the redwood
belt. They were really mostly Douglas fir mills. (The Douglas
fir eastward of the redwoods is a tributary to the redwood high
way.) Being regarded as inaccessible, the timber was chea~p^ The
small tracts of young growfh~ln Oregon and Washington were no longer
available to them because of "f he tree farms being set up TFTere.
Maunder: Was it this trend that offset the potential for the sustained yield
unit arrangement with the Forest Service that Simpson Company em
barked upon?
Fritz: The Simpson people had some young stands but not enough to sustain
their plant capacity. They needed old growth in sufficient volume
to give the young stuff more time to become merchantable timber. In
my opinion, conservation of forests is best served by large mills.
They can have better machinery (that makes for less waste) and can
build by-products factories, for utilizing the odds and ends that
inevitably develop because of internal decay in the trees and the
fact that logs are round and tapered.
It is too bad there could not have been more of the Simpson-U.S.F.S.
type of sustained yield units. Our remaining old growth would
have lasted longer because of the lessened waste, and there would
be greater local stability.
C.R.A. Forester for the NIRA Lumber Code (Article X)
Maunder: What part did you have, if any, in the formulation of the NIRA
Lumber Code? Did you sit in on any of the meetings?
Fritz: Yes, but I had no great part in it except to present my views. As
you recall, the NIRA was an industry-operated scheme to install
practices voluntarily. Every trade association had to have a for
ester at that time, and I happened to be the one asked to serve
142
Fritz: for the California Redwood Association. At the same time, the
Forest Service ?asked Myron E. Krueger, my col leaque hero, to holp
them in organizing their part. What their part was to be was never
quite clear to me, but Krueger -,nd I were out several times to
gether. However, it was largely an independent job, and a rather
lonesome job too, at first.
We sat down, the Forest Service men, the University men, a few
lumbermen, and myself, and we worked out the wording of Article
Ten for the redwood region. It was based pretty largely on what
I had learned before, and what we put into that code was this
rock-bottom minimum.
Maunder: Where did all this take place?
Fritz: In the office of the Redwood Association. Rex Black was in on
that too; at that time he was Executive Director of the California
Forest Protective Association.
Article X was a part of the National Industrial Recovery Act of
1933, but it then had to be implemented In and by regions. The
Redwood Association was part and parcel of this region and, like
other regions, had to write Its own rules. After they d written
the rules, they had to abide by them. That was the philosophy
of the NIRA.
Well, the code was written, and even before that, I had been asked
to serve as the C.R.A. advisor, or Code Forester; so I promptly
went out in the field equipped with these rules. Of course, the
operators all had copies of them too. I was very much encouraged
and pleased that every man I talked to said, in effect, "We have
agreed to do this voluntarily and we mean to carry it out, but we
need your help, not only yours but that of others also. We want
you to tell us what foresters think can be done or should be done,
and we will then see how it can be done, and we ll try our best."
In a very few months the whole NIRA was invalidated by the U.S.
Supreme Court. However, the industry decided to continue Article
X, which was not in controversy, and they asked me to continue
to do that same kind of work; and I can give you some examples of
how that worked out.
I would visit the logging operations but not without the boss man
knowing about it. Of course, later on I became better acquainted
with the logging superintendents, and I had practically carte
b I anche to go anywhere I wanted in the woods and talk to anybody.
They were very, very good that way. My respect for the people in
the lumber business began to rise, rise, and rise, and I finally
decided that the s.o.b. s are not limited to this or that group,
but every business and every profession has its fair share of them.
There were some that were not enthusiastic but others were one
143
Fritz: hundred percent and leaned over backwards. I would go out with
the manager or the president, and with the logging boss, and we d
watch the logging. At that time, it was all steam engine, donkey
engine, and high lead or slackline logging very destructive.
We would discuss how we could leave some seed trees.
The logging boss would say something like, "It s going to be very
difficult, but we ll try it. It s going to be costly and I m afraid
the boss is going to say we can t do it." They made a real try. If
you know about the slack line system, you know that when those lines
were moved across the territory being logged, everything was pulled
down. When they re through and the fire is run through to consume
the slash, there isn t a green leaf left.
I suggested that instead of tight-lining across the area, they pull
in the lines and rethread back on another radius, using straw lines,
back in and out every time they had to change a tai I tree. This would
result in pie-shaped pieces of residual trees. They actually tried it
out it was very expensive but it worked.
I photographed the area at the time. In ten years the new forest was
too tall to photograph. This was because they left some trees stand
ing, and that area was protected by parks on one side and uncut
timber on the other. It was also protected from the ocean winds by a
ridge, so the seeds blew in, germinated and started a very respect
able forest. In some places it s entirely too dense.
It was decided the slackline system would be changed, but you can t
change overnight. There s a lot of money involved. For example, one
slackline setting has from 11,000 to 13,000 feet of wire rope, and
that s expensive, and those donkey engines are expensive. They
couldn t scrap them overnight and buy other equipment.
The idea was to see if we could adapt the Old system to selective
cutting. At present the wire system is not used except in a few
cases in winter, and then for short pulls so they leave a lot of trees
standing. But the high lead system is simpler than the slackline.
It happened that the Union Lumber Company had experimented with
tractors I think in 1 932 and I had watched them. I was out there
merely as a University professor, but it seemed to me they had a very
definite application to the redwoods. Before that we a I I felt that
the tractors weren t strong enough. That was true, so they used two
tractors in tandem. It happened that the Union Lumber Company only
had that machine on loan, so they went back to their steam system.
The operation depended on the logging bosses. Some wanted to do a
bang-up job and others didn t care; some did a magnificent job of
leaving seed trees stand, and it was quite a thing for them to do
because it meant a lot of changes in their thinking and in the
training of their men and their supervision, and so on.
Fortunately, in that same autumn of I934, the Forest Service
144
Fritz: decided to work up a small party and go to Oregon and see how the
tractors were working in the big timber up there on the coast.
There was John Berry, M. M. Barnum from the Forest Service, Myron
Krueger from the University, myself, and Captain A. W. El am, who
was my field man. Cap was not forestry-trained but he was very
sympathetic to forestry ideas.
We watched the tractors in operation for several days, and the
Forest Service group and Captain El am and I were looking at it
from several angles. We liked what we saw. I asked all of them
when they came back not to express too much enthusiasm about the
tractors but merely to report that they appeared to us to have
possibilities and were worth trying out in the redwoods. I did
that because any forcible and too definite statement is generally
met with opposition, no matter who makes it.
A few weeks after that, as we suggested, some of the lumber com
panies sent their superintendents up to check on what we had seen
and reported on, and one in particular came back and said, "Let s
buy some and try them out ourselves." So they bought two they
were Chalmers tractors and used them on flat ground on the Van
Dusen River. That was the Hammond Lumber Company. Elmer Baker
was the logging superintendent at the time.
I watched those tractors many, many hours and days and we were all
satisfied that they do have a very definite place in the redwoods,
but that they must be made more powerful and more flexible. Of
course, they were trying them out on the worst kind of ground, on
flat ground where they had to drag against the full weight of the
log. The beautiful thing was that they could weave in around
among the trees that were still standing, just like they would
have to weave in among the stumps anyway, so they left standing
a lot of trees under four feet in diameter, breast high.
Maunder: Whose operations were you observing up there in Oregon in the use
of tractors and were they the pioneers in developing that method
of logging?
Fritz: They were among the pioneers. Several of them started about the
same time. We visited mostly the Crown Zel lerbach operations.
Maunder: Was it Crown s Ed Stamm who gave the tractor its first test in
the woods?
Fritz: Ed Stamm, Tom Jackson, Bert Torrey, and several others were very
helpful. It was so interesting to go up there as practical re
presentatives of the lumber industry. Even though we were for
esters, we were received differently than if we had gone out there
as University men representing the University or the Forest Service.
They were very helpful and told us about some of the problems, and
we reported on all that.
The outcome, as I ve already said, was the purchase of two tractors
145
Fritz: by the Hammond Lumber Company, and their application to a piece of
flat, very heavy timber on the Van Dusen River. That was in Jan
uary, 1935, and from that point on, the number of tractors purchased
and put to use in the redwoods -"lultlplled very rapidly. In a very
short time, there was about $500, OOu Invested in tractors, and In
even less additional time, a million dollars worth. And today I
don t know what it is, but you can t go anywhere in the woods now
without seeing a tractor used for logging work, not only road-
making but actual yarding. Nowadays, the bulldozers are used even
for making a layout for heavy trees and smoothing out the ground
so that the trees will fall on even ground to reduce the breakage.
That in itself almost pays for the tractor.
/
Those were the days, as you expect, of many frustrations, but also
of many, many satisfactions. Here and there was always a man to
say, "Yes, we ought to do it that way," or "We ve got to do it
better than we are right now." Even though I worked solely with
the men in the woods, from superintendents down, and did not work
very closely with the men in the front office, they certainly heard
about it. When I would meet them at a meeting or in their offices
and would casually bring It up, they expressed satisfaction as to
how things were going.
Some of them thought that it didn t hurt them to do this or that
and that it was good public relations, so they would continue it;
but the more progressive ones took the attitude that they d been
passing up a good bet and ought to get Into it wholeheartedly and
make a go of it.
That was the beginning of real selective cutting in the redwoods.
The 1923 experiment on Big River, referred to earlier, proved very
helpful. It supported the belief that the redwoods should be cut
selectively. It has been proved that it s not only desirable sil-
viculturally but also feasible and profitable commercially.
Some operations, of course, are better than others, but I should
say with very few exceptions (the smaller outfits) the results are
very, very satisfactory. They are way ahead of the state forest
practice rules as to the appearance of the cutover land. Some
times they incur a violation as to the number of shovels they have
handy for fire fighting and as to snag removal, but in the actual
si I vicultural part, they re way ahead of the state rules.
Logging Conferences
Maunder: What part were the Pacific Logging Congresses and the regional
congresses playing at this time in getting information about new
technological developments disseminated through the industry?
Fritz: I m glad you mentioned that because it s a very appropriate time
146
Fritz: for it. Harry W. Cole was for a short time the head of the Cali
fornia Redwood Association. He had been a company manager but the
company was sold out to Hammond Lumber Company and left him stranded.
It was the delightful and polished Harry Cole who asked me to serve
as the Code Forester In the first place, and one day I told him
that we could speed things up If we could get the loggers together
in a conference.
Redwood loggers didn t know one another well. Each one on each
operation talked a different language. Most of them were good
fellows but they didn t know what it was all about. It was hard
to reach them all, so why didn t we have a convocation or a meet
ing to which we would bring all these loggers, perhaps on a week
end? He agreed, and as a result, we held our first logging con
ference in the redwoods in February, 1936; and with the exception
of three years during the war and because of a strike, we have had
a meeting every year since then. This year we held our twentieth
meeting in a period of twenty-three years.
That first meeting was merely a trial. I don t think we had more
than sixty or sixty-five people present, and of that group proba
bly no more than half were loggers. The rest were equipment men
who saw there was some honey around with a lot of bosses to see
at one time. There were also the Inevitable federal and state
men and a few professors. It was a very successful meeting.
The next year, the California Redwood Association approved hold
ing a second one. We actually called that the Second Redwood Log
ging Conference R.L.C. That went on until 1947 when, because of
the heavy logging in the Douglas fir belt right alongside the red
wood belt, we decided to expand and we ca I led it the Redwood Region
Logging Conference. Instead of letting the Redwood Association
carry all the expense, we made it an entirely separate entity.
Having been the father of it, I was made secretary-manager. I wrote
the constitution and organized the thing, and I got wonderful sup
port from men like Waldron Hyatt, Earl Birmingham, John Gray, Gor
don Manary, and a lot of others.
Maunder: This sounds as if it was completely independent and separate from
the Pacific Logging Congress.
Fritz: That s right. The Pacific Logging Congress is much older and covers
the entire West. The P.L.C. started about 1907 or 09 to assemble
loggers annually to discuss mutual problems, new equipment and
methods.
It would seem the P.L.C. should handle our proposed meeting, but
we felt that we had specific problems down here peculiar to the
region, and that the Pacific Logging Congress was an overall con
gress for the entire West. Also, we felt we could do better run
ning our own show because we were closer to the job. I know that
the P.L.C. manager, Archie Whisnant, didn t like the idea and took
147
Fritz: me to task for setting up the redwood meeting, but later on he
agreed that it was the best thing possible and he saw to it that
more regional conferences were organized. As a result, we have
the Willamette Valley Logging Conference, Northern Rocky Mountain
Logging Conference, the Sierra-Cascade Logging Conference, the
Olympic Logging Conference, and so on.
Maunder: All of which directly tie in with the Pacific Logging Congress?
Fritz: Yes. They are all absolutely separate entities, but we all agree
and feel that the regional conferences (they were called conferences
deliberately) should be considered to be affiliated with the Pacific
Logging Congress, although there was no control by the P.L.C. and
no money changed hands or anything like that. They had nothing to
do with the program, but they were always very helpful with sug
gestions and helped when they were asked.
Maunder: Do you suppose then that the Redwood Region Logging Conference got
its stimulation and original structure from the pattern which had
already been set up north?
Fritz: By the Pacific Logging Congress? Yes. We thought that the Pacific
Logging Congress covered too wide a difference of logging conditions.
Now, with the regional conferences, the P.L.C. can concentrate on
the overall more important problems.
Maunder: Yes. Don MacKenzie explained that to me last year at the P.L.C.
when I made an interview with him. He said that the operators
over in western Montana and Idaho had a feeling that the Pacific
Logging Congress was dealing with basic problems but that the solu
Fritz:
Maunder:
tions weren t applicable in their own area; so they found
essary to set up
you probably had
an Intermountain Logging Conference,
the same general experience here.
and
it nec
I think
That s correct. I think the Intermountain Logging Conference was
the second one; ours was the first. Of course, we had the advice
and the pattern set by the P.L.C., but our problems were more
specific and limited to a region. If we had the same program as
the Pacific Logging Congress, it would take a month to hold a meet
ing. Now, each conference takes up local subjects and problems.
At the start, the R.L.C. had a very precarious hold on life because
some of these old loggers (many of them uneducated men but very
competent loggers) didn t take very kindly to meetings or talking
at meetings, and to this day, it s hard to get them to talk at a
meeting.
To what extent did the manufacturers of logging equipment enter
into this thing enthusiastically in the beginning to stimulate it?
Did they put their backs into it as far as manpower and money was
concerned?
148
Fritz: At first, you must remember, it was sponsored by the California
Redwood Association, which paid the expenses. It didn t cost very
much, and 1 got no compensation for it over my regular retainer.
I did it as a goodwill matter.
But the Redwood Association objected to giving a broadcast invita
tion to the equipment people. Because the redwood region was
small we had probably fifty loggers and they would be easily out
numbered by the equipment people, we wouldn t be able to hold our
meeting because the equipment people had a penchant for entertain
ing the loggers in their rooms and we had a hard time getting them
out.
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
So the Association decided not to keep them out, but not to invite
them either. However, we would go outside of that rule at times
when we wanted a certain man to talk about a specific subject, like
torque converters. That was a new thing to be added to a truck
and to a tractor. We also had fire equipment men come up.
The equipment people, of course, didn t like that because it was
duck soup for them to have so many loggers congregated together
in one place and they could make a killing. However, the equip
ment people were generally of the engineer type. They had a lot
of know-how and knowledge of their machines and their capacities
and uses. I felt it was a loss not to have them around, but we
had to abide by the Association s edict.
In 1947, when we became a separate entity, we decided to ask the
equipment people to come in, and they came in wonderfully well.
They volunteered many aids. For example, they volunteered to put
up the entertainment. They volunteered to stop room entertain
ment, to concentrate their entertainment in what we called "The
Sawdust Bowl." We copied that idea and term from the P.L.C. The
Bowl was to organize the socializing and arm-bending. It had a
beneficial effect on the banquet too; the banquets became more
quiet instead of being rowdy like a few of the earlier ones were.
This has always been a problem in meetings of lumbermen and loggers,
hasn t it? [Laughter]
And foresters too.
It s a problem of having a good time but at the same time, serv
ing the real purposes of the meeting.
It was a flashback to the old days when the logger would come to
town for weekends and get himself gloriously tight, but that is a
matter of history now. In the Redwood Conference, we always in
sisted on having quiet banquet nights where we could actually hear
a man talk and enjoy ourselves. Banquet entertainment was worked
up from local talent, but as the Conference grew larger, the equip
ment people took over the entertainment and obtained professionals
149
Fritz: from agencies.
It was a very excellent experience. It made one acquainted with
a lot of loggers, and they learned that foresters did not have
horns or tails and that they re all trying to do different parts
of the same job.
Maunder: Who were the men who were most instrumental, along with yourself,
in getting this thing started? You ve mentioned Cole.
Fritz: We had to have the backing of industry principals. I went to them
and asked them how they felt about it, and they said, "Go to it.
It looks like a good thing." There are very few redwood companies,
but many more Douglas fir loggers. Altogether it made a lot. I
believe at one time over seven hundred individuals registered.
Some of the original individual wheel horses were Earl Birmingham,
Elmer Baker, Gordon Manary, Dana Gray, John Gray, Waldron Hyatt,
and others.
Maunder: What was involved in the way of cost in the initial stages of the
Redwood Logging Conference?
Fritz: Nothing. We got the meeting room for nothing, provided we had
our banquet there. The men had to buy their own banquet tickets,
but the Redwood Association paid the expense of mailing and mimeo
graphing and typing and so on. I got actual personal expenses.
Nobody got a dime in salary or fees. There were no dues.
The equipment people later put on the entertainment and sometimes
they spent as much as $6,000 or S7,000 for one meeting, and the
R.R.L.C., as it was later known, spent about an equal amount.
Beginning in 1947, the secretary-manager was put on a retainer.
At first, it was very small and finally, $300 a month. There was
some work to do for the R.R.L.C. all through the year. Then, at
my own request, I asked that it be cut in half, and that one-half
be turned over to another man who would be my understudy and who
in a short time would take over. That took place this past August
first. Fred Landenberger, the man who followed me, is a capable
young man and mightily interested.
Maunder: He got this as an additional income to his regular job.
Fritz: Yes, with the Redwood Association. Now, it looks bad to have the
Redwood Association man doing the job for the R.R.L.C., but on the
other hand, there s a gentlemen s agreement that they ll be kept
absolutely separate, and the Redwood Association will not interfere
with the R.R.L.C. Financially, of course, they re entirely separate,
Maunder: Now the Income of the group is derived on what basis?
Fritz: From membership fees. We didn t have any membership fee for ten
50
Fritz: years, but in 1947, we had a five dollar individual membership
and a twenty-five dollar membership for firms. There weren t
enough lumber firms, of course, to support it, but the equipment
people also came in on the twenty-f I ve dol lar fee and they were a
great help, not only financially but in many other ways. The equip
ment show that they put on was really something superior. It draws
laymen as well as loggers and is an education for youngsters.
Maunder: It cost them quite a good bit of money, I imagine.
Fritz: The individual distributors sometimes spent more than $10,000 just
on putting up their exhibits, quite aside from their contributions
for entertainment and so on. One year, Chrysler shipped its ex
perimental gas turbine, designed for trucks and heavy tractors,
by ai r express.
Maunder: Of course, these things have had a tremendous impact on the rapid
mechanization of the industry.
Fri-rz: Before this tape runs out, I d (ike to tell you that all the
records, up to the time 1 retired from the R.R.L.C., are being as
sembled at the present time, and they will be bound at my expense
and turned over to the Bancroft Library.
Maunder: Conferences like this must be the most effective way of getting
across the idea of forestry.
Fritz: The logging conferences always have a lot of forestry in them.
They have a dual purpose: to improve logging and to improve the
woods practices. They go together. Sometimes our whole program
is what you might call forestry, and other times it s all logging,
but you can t divorce the two anyway.
If you read the description of the theme on our last program, it
reads: "The
tice because
to what it s going to
hundred years hence."
logger is the key man in
whatever he does on the
putting forestry into prac-
and earmarks that land as
look like, not next year, but fifty or a
And they understand that, I m sure.
The companies that do have foresters, of course, let them meet
with their local chapter of the S.A.F., and they talk about tech
nical matters. Then, of course, they take it back to their com
panies and they re always in contact with their principanF7"so
all you need is an outfit like Western Forestry.
Emanuel Fritz, former Governor Earl Warren, and
Waldron Hyatt, president of the Redwood Region
Logging Conference. The occasion was Warren s
campaign tour for a fourth term as California s
governor. Eureka, California, May 27, 1950.
Photograph courtesy of The Lumberman.
151
VII! SOCIETY OF AMERICAN FORESTERS
Role of the Society
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
When did you join the Society of American Foresters?
I was made a ful I member in 1919. I joined it because I thought
every professional man should join his professional society, if
only to keep up with what s going on in his field.
How well do you think the Society of American Foresters has served
you over the years?
Very well. Its Journa I had to be supplemented, of course, by a
lot of additional reading. The profession was still very young.
Were you an active member from the start?
Only since 1919. I think I was a contributor to the Journal of
Forestry for the first time In 1924. I wrote an article with the
man who helped me get the data; he was a student, a very able
young man. I also wrote an article on nomenclature of trees about
the same time.
Who was that? Do you remember the name?
James L. Averell. It was on a discovery that redwood growth rings
often don t encircle the tree completely. We checked it in a num
ber of ways, including even under a microscope. We called them
"discontinuous rings." This article was an offshoot from my 1923
study of young growth.
And then you wrote a paper on this which was accepted and published
in 1924. In what other ways did you take part in the Society in
those early days? Did you go to meetings regularly?
Yes, when there was one here. We had a California section. In
1928, I believe, I was its secretary.
Yes. What part did you play in organizing that California section?
None. It was organized before I came to California. Being new, I
merely I istened.
How long had the Society s chapter been in existence here before
you came?
Possibly two years, perhaps more.
Who were the leaders of the section at the time that you came?
152
Fritz: There was Fritz Olmsted and Coeurt Dubois (he resigned shortly
after that to join the consular service) and of course, the faculty
members of the University of California. The members were very
active and we had very lively rrretlnqs, but they were often related
to legislation for regulation of lumoerlng.
At that time, Pinchot decided to go to bat for legislation provid
ing for regulation of lumbering. G. P. was drafting bills and hold
ing discussions in Washington. I think a bill had been Intro
duced in Congress. But 1 took no active part in such matters at
that time.
Maunder: Weren t there any discussions at the practical level at that time?
Fritz: Very little in the first few years; in the late Twenties, yes.
There were several men like Swift Berry, Richard Colgan, and later
on, Rex Black, Dwight Birch, myself, and several others who were
interested in private forestry and the utilization phase of for
estry. Just as a cannery man is interested in the utilization
phase of farm crops, so the sawmill is the converter of tree crops.
I got very well acquainted with these foresters. I should add,
there were more in the northwest and southeast.
Maunder: All these men were members of the Society of American Foresters?
Fritz: Yes, all were forestry trained. Of course, through them and also
through my visits to the mills, I became acquainted with the opera
ting and management personnel at the sawmills, particularly in the
pine regions. I didn t then go to the redwoods very much. I had
more familiarity with the pine regions southern pine, Inland Empire
pine, and California pines.
Maunder: So you were more in contact with this group than with the foresters
whose interests were more in the direction of what you might call
forest pol icy.
Fritz: Forest policy, yes. That was the big subject and I took an early
interest in it.
Maunder: Did the Journal in those years reflect that major interest?
Fritz: Yes. Policy matters got much space. Of course, there was also the
great U.S. Forest Products Laboratory at Madison, Wisconsin. I
visited there a number of times. Its staff had interests similar
to mine interest in developing wood technology and its application.
The Madison Laboratory did more to make friends for foresters than
the administrators of the national forests.
Maunder: Your interest in the S.A.F. in those first few years of your mem
bership was a mixed one. You had rather great reservations, I take
it, about the bent of most of the discussion in the group.
Fritz: Yes. I still think the polemics some of us engaged in were not what
153
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
forestry needed most. It needed friends among forest owners. We
spent too much time alienating the people we needed most. We were a
sophomoric lot. I have always taken an active interest in the Society;
though retired since 1954, I m still interested in what the Society
does and particularly what it does rot do.
I think the Society at the present time is in a depression, a men
tal depression. It has been (particularly its Washington office)
inclined toward preserving a status quo. Of course, if it should
strike out as it did in the past, crusading without a sound basis,
I would certainly become more articulate again. The Society is
actually undergoing a change quietly. The Western Forestry and
Conservation Association, the American Forestry Association, and
the Forest Products Research Society are carrying much of the load
and doing fine jobs.
The forestry profession itself is changing. There is a stronger
professional attitude; it is getting to be more realistic. This
will ultimately be reflected in the Journal of Forestry. So a
quiet period may be a good thing. The large number of members in
private employ are showing strength.
What are these other organizations doing which in your estimation
the Society should perhaps be doing? What show of leadership are
they demonstrating?
Take Western Forestry, for example. That s a short name for Western
Forestry and Conservation Association, headquartered in Portland,
Oregon. It has the same objectives as the Society of American For
esters but its membership is professional only in part. It is a
working membership and it operates on the friendly and realistic
approach, and by that approach, it has been able to get into its
membership many companies and company representatives from the
principals on down.
It actually was started by private owners and was one of the first
to really attack the fire problem realistically in the West and
be successful; and if it hadn t been organized, I think it would
have been many more years before we would have gotten laws like the
McSweeney-McNary and the Clarke-McNary laws.
In that organization are men like E. T. Allen, Clyde Martin, Ed
Stamm, George Drake, Truma n Collins, Ed Heacox, G. F. Jewitt
foresters and timber company managers. Timberland owners pay on
an acre basis. Nonowners, like myself, pay a small membership
fee. Most of the private company representatives have very res
ponsible jobs and are men of real ability who combined courage
with their convictions and dealt directly with their own principals.
The men that I have mentioned have been extremely successful in
their particular companies, and actually put forestry into the
woods where it belonged rather than at the desks in Washington or
those of forestry school teachers.
154
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
What has characterized the Society s activity as opposed to this
other approach that you say has been made by other forestry or
ganizations?
I felt that the Society was following Pinchot too blindly. There
was not sufficient understanding of the forestry and lumbering
problems and of economics. Many members of the S.A.F. felt that
a man in private industry, if he was in logging or milling, was not
a forester. That was quite the opposite of what is true of engi
neering where, if a man goes into mining, or blast furnace work,
or rolling mill work, or structural design, or structural fabri
cation, he is still an engineer; and even if he goes into selling,
he s still an engineer.
I have met some of my old engineering classmates who are salesmen.
Their engineering training has been not only valuable but indis
pensable. Too many of the early-day foresters let their love for
the forest overcome their practical understanding of forestry prac
tices. That is rather strange because the earliest foresters like
Henry Graves and Gifford Pinchot were trained in Europe, in France
and in Germany, and they should have learned over there that the
German foresters grow trees only to be cut to make useful and
needed products. It was a crop with them, while with us it was a
beautiful object that only God can make.
The aesthetic has always been strong among foresters, but the re
alities cannot be overlooked. I must confess I was influenced by
the appeal of the forest in selecting forestry for my profession,
but my engineering background probably brought about a balance.
In spite of this feeling that you say characterized the thought
and direction of the Society, still you, as a man representative
of forest utilization, were a candidate on at least one occasion
for the presidency of the organization; and for some period of
time you were also editor of the Society s Journal of American
Forestry. This would seem to indicate to me that there was some
recognition of your special field and interest. It wasn t a com
plete concentration on the other. How would you reconcile those
two?
Fritz: You probably didn t know it, but at the University of California
every member of the forestry faculty is a "professor of forestry"
not a professor of lumbering, or of logging, or of silviculture or
wood technology. I think that was a mistake, but to this day I m
regarded by the lumber people as a forester and preservationist
and not as one who taught the engineering aspects of sawmill ing,
forest products, and the properties and uses of wood.
Perhaps I should have emphasized my own interest in the engineei
ing aspects of lumbering and forestry in the early days, but I liked
to feel that I was a forester plus an engineer. However, it didn t
work out that way. Even at the University of California when I
155
Fritz: wanted to expand lumbering or wood technology, I was voted down.
One time I suggested we should have a tes M ng machine so we could
test our own native woods, but we never got it. I was told, "We
should not duplicate equipment a ready In the engineering department."
In 1925, I was working on plans for a forest products laboratory
for the University, but one day was told to quit further planning
because "it is not the function of the University to make money for
the lumber industry!" That struck me as strange because we were in
the College of Agriculture, and the College of Agriculture had a
fruit products laboratory where it was trying to find out how
better to can and prepare fruits, how to refrigerate them and so
on. That certainly was to the benefit of the canners and refrig-
eraters, not necessarily to make more money for them but to ad
vance the technique of the preparation of fruit products. And
certainly the forest products laboratory was a parallel except
that it dealt with trees that produce wood rather than apples
and other fruits.
Maunder: In other words, I believe you are saying that the profession of
forestry has differed from other professions In the agricultural
sciences. Has it been oriented through a long period of its
development to the idea of preservation rather than to utilization?
Fritz: It would be unfair to say foresters Ignored utilization. From
the earliest days some of them found more appeal in utilization.
The Forest Products Laboratory had foresters on its staff, and
there were others who studied and wrote reports on that subject.
One of the big criticisms of lumbering was its apparent and, to
some extent, real wastefulness. Some of the early reports con
cerned "closer utilization," as a conservation measure. There
was waste indeed. But much of the tree cannot be used.
If lumber prices had been higher there would be a wider spread
between the prices of various grades. The buyer would be more in
fluenced by price to buy the lower grades. At present much material
must be burned to get rid of it. The reduction of waste is largely
a matter of economics. Some day there will be no refuse burners at
sawmills because the lower grades at lower prices serve the purpose
as well as better grades. Furthermore, as more pulp and paper mills
are needed and built, what is now waste will be the raw material
for paper pulp.
It can be said of the forestry profession that it was largely for
est preservation and management minded. The foresters who went
into lumbering were badly outnumbered.
In the Redwood Region Logging Conference, which I started in 1935
or 1936, I constantly bore down on this fact: that the logger and
forester must work together because, while the forester may make
plans for the ultimate permanence of lumbering, the logger can make
or break any forestry plans the foresters may have made and gotten
156
Fritz: approved by the owners.
Maunder:
Fritz:
Was there then within the ranks of professional foresters a clear
line between the two philosophies with two groups standing In op
position to one another?
Well, as I said earlier, I think that was manifested by the atti
tude of public foresters towSrds the foresters who quit to go into
private service as loggers or as mill men. Let me add that in 1928
when Colonel Greeley joined the West Coast Lumberman T s Association,
very well-known Forest Service man asked
that Association very recently. Does it
has gone over to the enemy?"
me, "You ve worked for
mean that Colonel Greeley
Well, I bristled, because Colonel Greeley just wasn t that kind of
a man, and the Colonel would never have gone with the West Coast
Association merely to be an Association secretary, but he saw an
opportunity to spread the foresters philosophy as to timber man
agement, and I think we must agree the Colonel was very successful.
Perhaps the fact that the Forest Service is a federal bureau and,
like most bureaus, thinks in terms of its own permanence and growth,
Its members thought of forestry in terms of federal control.
Maunder: Emanuel, what I m driving for here at this particular juncture is
simply this: somewhere In the history of the American forestry
profession there came a recognition of the fact that there was
more to forestry than just the idea of growing and preserving the
trees. There came into recognition by a few individuals the idea
that forestry should serve the function of utilization.
I wish you could help us pinpoint the origins of this trend, single
out the people who gave it first expression, and let us know any
thing you can recall about how this discussion made its way into
the Journal of Forestry and other publications so that it became a
subject "of deFate within the forestry profession.
Fritz: Well, El wood, I have already given you some names, but I think you
should credit Colonel Greeley as the Number One man who started
foresters to thinking in more pragmatic terms while at the same
time converting timber owners to forest management for permanence.
It never became a real debate, but here and there were some indi-
dual foresters forestry trained men not necessarily practicing
forestry, although it included both categories who, whenever an
opportunity presented itself, spoke in behalf of lumbering as a
legitimate business.
For example, I think Nelson C. Brown had a considerable impact be
cause in his contact with foresters he tried to promote the idea
that logging and milling were a necessity. Then there was Kenneth
J. Pearce of the University of Washington. He did his part. Then
there was Oregon State College, particularly Dean George Peavy, and
[57
Fritz: there were a couple of men like Matthews at Michigan, Grondal at
Washington, Bryant at Yale, and several others; and there were men
in private employ who, when they had an opportunity, presented the
case. I did it at the University of California. It was a sure
way of becoming unpopular with the H ublic foresters.
Since I have mentioned some names, I must add that none of these
men gave up his original professional forestry principles and acted
as an apologist for the lumber industry. Someone must some day
write out the impact these men had toward instituting private for
estry. It wasn t easy. I have been, myself, labeled an apologist
for the lumberman, perhaps because what little 1 have written
sounds like I was covering up for what the industry was not doing.
Actually, one had to learn salesmanship, to credit a prospect for
what he ^s_ doing rather than shouting from the roof tops what is
not being done. I think I, for one, knew more about why forestry
was slow in taking hold on private lands. When you know and honestly
recognize the difficulties, you are in better shape to know what ap
proach to take.
Maunder: Would you say then that this had its beginnings on the campuses
of our colleges where there were either schools of forestry estab
lished or departments of forestry?
Fritz: I think much of the impact really came from the schools because
the school men had independence and some of them elected to speak
up. I think I was regarded as one of the articulate ones, which
wasn t to my advantage. It made all of us suspect as being chattels
of the lumber industry, which was entirely wrong.
In the many years I was a forestry advisor to the lumber industry,
I was never asked to make a slanted statement in its behalf. I
don t believe any of my colleagues in teaching had a different ex
perience. The foresters in private industry had to be more cir
cumspect because their own principals were against antagonizing
public foresters, but gradually here and there, one of them would
speak up.
Journal o_f_ Forestry Work
Fry: I d like to move on to your accepting an associate editorship of
the Journal of Forestry, in 1922. I think this was when Zon was
editor-in-chief, is that right? And then later on Dana came, in
October of 1928.
Fritz: Fernow was editor-in-chief when I became one of the associate
editors. I m quite sure it was Fernow. [Editor from 1917 to
February, I923U
58
Fry: You had the experience of working under all three of them. Ac
cording to the record, you vjere an assoc.iate editor from 1922 to
1930, then editor from October, 1930 to December, 1932.
Fritz: Right.
Maunder: What did associate editor mean? What did you do?
Fritz: Each associate editor represented a special field like silvicul
ture, protection and utilization, and was expected to look for
articles in his specific field and to help edit them. Actually,
Zon did very little in the way of submitting articles to his as
sociate editors. He did it in the field of utilization with me,
but he apparently had very bad luck with the others, or he did not
use them. Their papers were slow coming back, and he didn t have
too much to publish at that time anyway, so as soon as he got a
manuscript, he ran it, with the result that some of them were not
edited at all.
Maunder: This was in the Twenties?
Fritz: Yes. Zon followed Fernow in 1923. I wrote a few editorials for
Zon and would try to get foresters to prepare articles. Zon and
I did correspond on matters affecting the Journal . Serving the
magazine was purely a labor of love; there was no compensation
and no expense account. But I enjoyed It. I must add, in fair
ness to Zon s associate editors and mine, that since many of them
were in public employ and were in the field a good deal of the
time, they did not have much spare time to devote to the Journal .
Maunder: Did you work then for a spell under Fernow when he was an editor?
Fritz: Well, "worked under him," you can t say that; and you can t say
I worked with him. The editor in those days, you must remember,
was a volunteer editor.
Maunder: That was true for some time thereafter too, wasn t it?
Fritz: That was true through my editorship and partly through the next
one, I think.
Fry: Were you always in wood technology, in your capacity as associate
editor?
Fritz: Yes. Wood technology and lumbering.
Maunder: What was the system in those days? Would the acting editor refer
to each one of you, as specialists in certain fields, articles
which had been submitted in those fields?
Fritz: That was the theory. It didn t work out well.
Maunder: How did it work out?
159
Fritz: Fernow was the type of man who I think wouldn t want to take the
time to send an article all over the country and then wait for the
man at the other end to edit It. He d go ahead and do It himself.
Sometimes articles went In ther- , especially under Zon, without
very much editing at all.
Fry: What was Zon like as an editor?
Fritz: Zon was associate editor, then editor. He was kind of an oddity.
A very able man, and a man I thought I had to watch very closely,
he wasn t above arrogating credit to himself when he didn t de
serve it. However, the load wasn t heavy. Very few articles in
my field were submitted so I didn t have very much editing to do
or commenting on whether an article should be published or not.
In the first years of your association with the editorial staff
of the Journal , what were your specific tasks?
I tried to get articles in my own field.
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
How did you go about doing that?
People I knew.
Writing to them?
Writing to them or speaking to them.
Suggesting articles that they might write?
Yes.
What results did you get from this effort?
Very little.
I saw a letter from Fernow, dated April 4, 1922, to you. This was
a month after you were appointed and Fernow said, "It will hardly
be necessary for you to look out for articles, which so far we
have secured without solicitation."
Fritz: Yes. Well, he didn t say, articles on what subject. You could
get any number of articles on the philosophy of forestry. That s
what most writers in those days wrote about, as much as to say,
"Forestry is a fine thing; you ought to practice It on your land."
Fry:
Fritz:
I was wondering if you could comment on the ways that these three
editors handled the Journal of Forestry.
Well, sometimes I would feel sorry for men like Zon and Fernow
be
cause, as I mentioned, sometimes the basket was awfully low in good
articles. There would be articles like: Pinchot or other S.A.F.
160
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
members would give a talk somewhere to some conservation agency
and that would be an article. Or someone would write something
on one of his efforts to develop Interest In forestry. Somebody
else would write an article on federal policy: should the govern
ment own all timber or should it be .:!! private? It was a natural
thing in the formative years.
In those years,
that determined
get?
it wasn t so much a particular editorial policy
what went in. It was just what the editor could
Yes what was sent to him. During my own editorship, I used to
write a lot of letters for articles and I think I interviewed
more people than I wrote to, begging for articles. I presume that
Dana did the same thing because Dana was a very good editor. And
Smith, my successor, was a very hard worker. Zon and Dana had
less time to devote to the Journal
were beautiful essays.
than I had. Smith s editorials
What did you look for in articles that you were trying to get for
the Journal ?
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Well, I was satisfied to publish an article even though the thing
that was proposed, or explained, was still experimental --though the
authors weren t sure whether it was going to work or not. I wanted
an article on what was being done right then.
My editorship was so long ago that I don t recall very much about
the articles published in the first twenty years. Some of my own
contributions as articles were in the same class polemics although
I was generally on the unpopular side.
Well, you were seeking for a more scientific type of article,
that right?
is
I wasn t so much interested in the scientific aspects alone (I
wouldn t be against it), but when you go into real scientific work,
you are taking up a subject which might require ten years to get
an answer. I felt that we had problems right now today in trying
to sell forestry. Why not concentrate on the immediate problems
at once and let the glamour projects wait until all of us learned
more about the nature of the problems and how they should be ap
proached.
The problems I thought should have high priority were in the field
of forest management. Fortunately, a few management projects were
set up very early, but as I said earlier, they take years to yield
results. An outstanding project was the ponderosa pine project at
Fort Valley Forest Experiment Station, under G. A. Pearson, in
northern Arizona, started in 1909.
We got many policy articles. Most of them were published, perhaps
all.
161
Fry:
Maunder :
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
And this opened up the whole question of forest policy in the
Journal as I understand it, about the first time It had really
become a subject of wide dialogue between members of S.A.F.
Did you get many scientific article; during your chief editorship?
There were very few forestry scientists in the first two decades
of American forestry. The Forest Products Laboratory did much
scientific work on wood. The Lab had to feel its way, just as did
the foresters, but it had a real advantage. It could work on pro
jects that would yield at least preliminary results in a few years,
whereas si I vicultural research would require many years. The basic
work at the Lab in those early years was also a training ground.
To study wood was somewhat new in the U.S. That the Lab built a
strong foundation is evidenced by the reports and research articles
that now appear in the Forest Products Journal, twenty-five years
or more younger than the Journal of Forestry. The Lab had its own
outlet a long series of technical bulletins, notes and articles.
The Journal printed some.
Did your role change in any way in the period from 1922 to 30?
No, there wasn t any change.
Did you have a feeling you were being groomed to become the editor,
or were you ever told by ari^ of your predecessors that this might be
the case?
No. In fact, I wasn t even in California when the invitation came
to me. I was at Cornell at the time as an exchange professor, and
I didn t have the slightest idea I was being considered for the
chief editorship. It hadn t even occurred to me that I would want
to be the editor. I had been on the board of editors of the annual
year book of the graduating class at Polytechnic Institute in Bal
timore, but I wouldn t consider that editing. It s something a kid
just likes to do. (Incidentally, it was never published.)
Wei I , what was
the Journal?
the first hint that you were going to be editor of
I think it was a letter or telegram I got from Paul G. Redington,
then president of the S.A.F.
Redington was in San Francisco then, head of that Forest Service
Region?
He was president of the S.A.F.
And was he also head of the Forest Service s California Region at
that time?
Yes. Now maybe I am wrong. Perhaps Redington had already left the
U.S.F.S. to take the directorship of U.S. Biological Survey.
162
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Did he make a persona I appeal to you to take on the job?
I don t remember. It came to me as such a surprise, I thought,
"Well, maybe he s trying out several. He just wants to see how
I feel about it."
You were succeeding Sam Dana, weren t you?
until 1930?
Was Sam editor up
Fritz: That s right, 1928 to 1930. Dana was Zon s successor. Dana was,
a very able man. At that time
carried the Journal through
1930,
of course, we I I -known as a writer and
we published only nine numbers. Sam
June. I picked it up with the October, 1930, number. Dana had too
many duties as dean at the University of Michigan, so he asked to
be relieved. Paul G. Redington told me later when I asked him why
I was appointed, "Well, Dana said that you were the only associate
editor who ever gave him any help." So I was appointed.
Maunder: In other words, there was no controversy that caused Sam Dana to
leave?
Fritz: Oh no, none whatever. Dana was one of forestry profession s best.
He had his hands in a lot of things, and the Journal was dropping
back as to the date of publication. That editorship to me was a
very expensive thing, expensive In view of the value of a dollar
in those days.
Maunder: How do you mean? You were sacrificing the time you could have been
using to make additional income for yourself?
Fritz: I had the pleasure of doing it, but it came at a time when I was
to write a report on a study I made in 1928-1929 on Pacific Lumber
Company land. Its purpose was to find out what becomes of the wood
in redwood trees: how much of it is lumber, how much is shingle
bolts, how much of it is something else, and how much is left in
the woods.
I wanted very much to write that report because of its immediate
interest to foresters and the lumber people. That was something
that touched their pocketbooks. I felt such a project would help
sell an experiment in selective cutting. Its data was very help
ful for some years. I am going to turn the raw data over to the
Bancroft Library for safekeeping.
Fry: You became editor-in-chief when you were teaching one semester at
Cornell, is that right?
Fritz: I have to think hard. It has been a long time ago. 1 feel sure
it was early 1930 when Redington wrote to me. Yes, because I had
the teaching semester. I was in Florida with relatives in January.
The spring semester began sometime late In that month, and I taught
at Cornell until June. Then my family came up from Florida and met
163
Fritz: me in Ithaca. We drove back to California, and on the way back,
I stopped at a number of places where there were foresters and
talked to them about what they thought of the Journal of Forestry,
what I could do to make It more useful to field men, and its policy
and whatnot. I had some ideas what the policy- might be, from my
associate editorship, but I needed to know what others thought.
Maunder: I take it that the editor determined this.
Fritz: He did, within reasonable limits of course.
Maunder: He was not governed by the S.A.F. Council or . . . . ?
Fritz: It would have been a fine thing if the Council had taken some active
interest. I went to one Council meeting in December, 1932. The
Councilors talked about everything but the Journal , which was the
principal output of the S.A.F., until I brought it up when our time
was running out. I thought it showed ingratitude to a volunteer
editor. So I thought, "To hell with it," and resigned.
Maunder: When you went to the editorship, you did it of course as a strictly
unpaid volunteer within an organization which had two paid employees,
and these were in Washington, D.C. an executive secretary and a
business manager.
Fritz: They had a business manager, Miss Warren. Her name was Hicks at
that time; then she was married and divorced, and she retained her
married name, Warren. There was also a paid secretary at that time.
Maunder: And what sort of a person was Miss Warren as you remember her then?
Fritz: I would say a dynamo. She took a sort of a mother-hen attitude
over the foresters that she had to deal with. We always got along
well except for one occasion which was very embarrassing to me. I
was a new editor and I was three thousand miles away in California
when it happened.
I went to Baltimore, where the Journal
Press (I think they still print it).
remained a couple of weeks, visiting
I
On my drive West from Ithaca,
was printed by the Monumental
And I had relatives there and
back and forth between Washington and Baltimore, and of course,
called on Miss Warren and the printer. I told her I wanted the
book to be exactly like Dana left it, no change in paper, format,
or type.
Well, the first issue came out that way, but the November and De
cember issues came out on "pulp." It stank. When I opened my copy,
I thought, "What the devil have I done wrong!" It would give ev
erybody the impression that the Journal of Forestry was just another
cheap pulp magazine.
So I wrote to Miss Warren and protested the change in my instruc
tions as to paper.
164
Maunder: Had she taken it upon herself to order it?
Fritz: Yes, to save some money for the Journal by changing to a cheap
grade of paper. She was a keer business manager. When the Decem
ber issue came out, it was really bulky. Dana told me he had about
thirty articles in his file, and he said, "None of them are good
but that s all you ve got to start with." So I thought I d clear
the decks right away and print them all, good or bad, just because
I didn t want any author to feel hurt. Paper was already bought
for two issues. The December number looked bad because of the
paper and the book s bulk.
Maunder: What reaction did you get from the members?
Fritz: Very, very little. They probably thought it was a matter of
economy. But it was one of those cases where it is better to
forget it.
Maunder: What responsibilities did the people in the office in Washington
have to assist you in the job of editing and publishing the
Journal?
Fritz: Well, I don t know what they were asked to do, but obviously Miss
Warren was the business manager and therefore had to watch the cost.
She meant well. She had to look after all dealings with the printer
and keeping books on costs.
I tried to start a program of getting advertising to help meet
costs but I was voted down by the Council. They said the Journa I
of Forestry is a professional magazine of a high quality, and they
dTdn t want advertisements of equipment, and so forth, in our maga
zine. Well, now the Journal gets a handsome help from advertise
ments.
Fry: It must have been a tremendous strain on you to handle the editor
ship and your faculty duties as well. How did you work it out?
Fritz: It didn t work out too we I I for me; it proved to be a very expen
sive experience. I lost out at the University because I gave the
Journal too much time. I put in many a week of thirty hours,
mostly at night. It advanced the need for eye glasses. I was a
fast reader then and I could edit very rapidly. In addition to my
other reading and teaching, It was rather bad for eyes.
Maunder: Was there any stipend involved in doing this work?
Fritz: Not a penny. I figured it cost me all the fees I could have re
ceived from consulting work. I hadn t been doing very much in the
consulting field at that time, but it was enough to make it pos
sible for me to stay at the University of California. All Univer
sity personnel took a ten percent salary cut during the depression.
Maunder: How long were you chief editor of the Journal ?
165
Fritz: Nearly three years, and that s a story in itself. I discovered
at the University of California that even though I was told that
my editorship was considered a legitimate University faculty mem
ber s work and would be accepte^ in I leu of research, I suddenly
found out that It was not the case. The dean himself told me that.
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry :
At the same time, I was a little fed up by the lack of interest in
the Journal on the part of the S.A.F. Council. I attended Council
of course, and when it came my turn to talk about the
meetings,
Journal and
what it required, I got very little response, so I
felt I was wasting my time.
Maunder: This was, of course, during three of the hardest years of the De
pression, and part of the trouble lay at that point, didn t it?
Fritz: Not exactly. They were not years of stress for the Society of
American Foresters. In fact, we were pretty well off during the
Depression. Our membership increased very rapidly because so many
men went to forestry schools merely to get jobs with a CCC camp as
a foreman, or a WPA camp. For example, at the University of Cali
fornia we had, as I recall it, 375 students in the year 1937, and
many of them became members of the Society. In fact, the secre
tary of the Society wrote me once that the University of California
had the best record of alumni joining the S.A.F. It was one of the
voluntary duties I took on to get the alumni interested in the S.A.F.
and in joining.
Maunder: When you resigned from the editorship, this really put the issue
rather squarely before the Council, did it not, to face the fact
that it needed to hire a full-time editor?
Well, 1 think they were stunned. Stunned, not because I was leav
ing, but because they suddenly realized some other provisions must
be made.
To find somebody to take it?
To find somebody to take my
the prob I em of publishing a
to the interest of the editor"
place and do it quickly, and to solve
Journal of quality. Quality is related
and the time he can give it. I really
was sorry to quit the editing. I enjoy that kind of work. Even in
my retired days, I help writers of articles and books. Just recently
I went over a manuscript on redwood for a botany teacher.
Franklin Reed followed as editor the next month, January of 1933.
That s right,
issues, and I
we I I and I iked him.
He needed help.
Of course, I had a lot of articles ready for future
helped on the editing that spring. I knew Reed very
He wasn t a self-starter but he had good ideas.
When you were editor of the Journal , do you remember the incident
of the Charles Lathrop Pack Foundation offering to subsidize
166
Fry: publication of the Journal , and the Society apparently turning
this down even though you wanted it? I was wondering what the
story was on that and why it was turned down.
Fritz: That is very hazy in my recollection. I don t remember that well,
but I m not surprised that it was turned down.
Fry: Reed wrote a letter to Pack and said that they couldn t accept
the offer.
Maunder: Why are you not surprised that it was turned down?
Fritz: Let me ask a question. What was the date of that episode?
Maunder: It was in the period of your editorship.
Fry: Yes. You were editor but I don t have the exact date of the letter.
Fritz: There was a celebrated controversy between H. H. Chapman and Pack.
You can t go into these controversies without bringing in Chapman.
But wasn t it the American Forests Magazine, rather than the Journal
of Forestry? It would have been a good thing for the S.A.F. at that
time to have more non-foresters among its membership. There was a
goodly number of men in the lumber and related business who had a
serious interest in forestry but who couldn t understand why for
esters had to be so pugnacious about Its introduction on privately
owned lands. They might have been a leavening and Informative in-
f luence.
Pack was a multimillionaire and a very fine man. He had a real
desire to do something for the public. He was also a practical
man, the kind that looks for action rather than words. At the same
time, he felt that he ought to have a chance to convey his views to
the public, and his outlet would have been the American Forestry
Association magazine.
Now there again, my memory is hazy, but I think he was president
for several terms of the A.F.A. Then Chapman got into the picture
and the fight got so hot that Pack just threw the whole thing in
the scrap basket as far as he was concerned, withdrew from the
American Forestry Association and started an association and maga
zine of his own. He called it the American Nature Association.
The magazine was called Nature.
Maunder: American Tree Association.
Fritz: American Tree Association, yes.
Maunder: And Emanuel, let me interject something here. There was a con
troversy, but it wasn t only H. H. Chapman. There were on the Board
of Directors of the American Forestry Association a number of men,
and among them the forester of the American Forestry Association,
Ovid M. Butler, who were quite unhappy with the way Mr. Pack was
167
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry :
Fritz:
trying to run the show and direct the editorial policy of the
magazine. And finally it came to a showdown and Pack s influence
was removed and his financial support was lost and ....
It was in the early Twenties.
That would have preceded Pack s offer to back the S.A.F.
Right. And I think the reasons for S.A.F. being rather standoff
ish of Pack s offer was the memory of the experience earlier with
the American Forestry Association.
Let s go back a little. I started to tell you that when I came
back West by automobile, I called on the Journal s office and on
the printers, also I called on the Forest Service. One man (I
won t mention his name) asked, "What s going to be your policy on
the Journal?" I said, "I m going to continue the editorials and
di rect them to the fact that forestry is based on the cutting of
trees for products and that as long as people are cutting down
trees, that s where foresters are needed. There must be a more
realistic relationship between foresters and timber owners. I
shall try to bring the two together."
My argument was that closer utilization, for example, was to the
interest of the forester. He should be interested in the future
of doors, wooden window frames and sash, and the future of lath
and the future of shingles, because all make for closer utilization.
The closer the utilization, the better the realization in dollars
and therefore the better the possibilities for forestry.
So you wanted this to be the primary aim of the Journa I ?
No. My main interest in forestry originally was silviculture. I
had been in the Experiment Station in Flagstaff, Arizona, the first
forest experiment station in the U.S. Silviculture, economics, and
so forth, must be given proper coverage.
Well, what I meant was, when you first became editor of the Journal ,
Maunder:
Fritz:
did you see as the primary policy publishing articles which could
be of practical use in the field of utilization and timber manage
ment?
Absolutely. Like the article I asked A. E. Wackerman to write on
the Crosset Lumber Company s forestry program. His company declined
Wackerman the permission because they wanted more time to be sure
their forestry policy was effective. Such an article would have
been stimulating in the promotion of forestry. Then the Urania
Lumber Company in Urania, Louisiana.
Henry Hardtner.
Henry Hardtner was a pioneer forestry convert in the southeastern
168
Fritz: United States. Then there was the Great Southern Lumber Company.
They had actually started after World War I to plant on cutover
land, which was quite an undertaking. So I wanted articles on
that.
Fry: And instead, what did you get?
Fritz: I started to tell you of the U.S.F.S. man who asked what would be
my policy on the Journa I . He reacted with "If that is the case,
I ll see that you do not get past three issues."
Maunder: Did you ever try to get an article out of Goodman up in Wisconsin?
Fritz: I think I got something from him. C. B. Goodman, wasn t it?
Maunder: Yes.
Fritz: Did you ever meet him?
Maunder: No, I wish I had. He must have been one of the most interesting
men in the industry. His personal papers or those of his company
would have historical value.
Fritz: He was a short man but vigorous and a delightful gentleman. At
meetings of lumbermen, he would listen to their arguments and dis
putes with the government and quietly get up and say his little
piece, and point out the obligations each lumberman has. Goodman
was one of about twenty I saw in action at one time or another who
were well-balanced and farsighted. and had the guts to make their
ideas known to their fellow lumbermen.
Fry: And these were the ones that you had hopes of getting papers from?
Fritz: Yes, not necessarily from them personally, but from their employees-
the company foresters or woods managers.
Fry: The man who was really doing it.
Fritz: I got an article on the McGifford loader. You know that is the
loader that hoists itself off the rails. I didn t want it because
it was a McGifford loader but because the Science and Industry
Museum in Chicago had put up quite an exhibit depicting lumbering
from way back to the present. Every machine was built in minia
ture. The young man who organized the exhibit was a forester who
eventually became one of Rand McNally s top cartographers. I hoped
to get other articles of a similar nature which would show the mar
riage of lumbering and forestry instead of just a long drawn out
cold war.
Maunder: In a sense, you were representing the interest and the inclination
of what was just becoming a merging industrial forestry. And as
such, you were still running against the currents of the older
169
Maunder: PInchotvian group whose inclination was more along other lines.
Isn t this where the war really developed between the two groups,
and weren t you in the eye of the hurricane there in the editing
?
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
The way you put it, it looks like I was at the end of one and at
the beginning of another. There was too much of polemics and of
public excoriation of the lumber industry. I m not defending the
lumber industry.
dustry reacted as
I knew better than men like Chapman why the
it did toward foresters.
n
When they discovered that I taught lumbering and wood technology,
I could sit at their meetings and join in their discussion. In
time, I had broken the ice. I didn t break the ice on forestry
but my part in lumbering served as a catalyst to get a .favorable
ear for forestry.
Did you usually write the editorials?
Whi le I was editor?
As editor-in-chief.
I think I wrote every one. You have probably seen one there that
was called "Lath, Sash and Shingles."
Yes, but I didn t read it.
Another was on shop grades. Now the average forester knew nothing
about those things, and yet trees were not cut to make lath solely
unless it was by a small mill in very small timber. Lath was all
made of stuff that ordinarily would have gone to the fire.
There was a time when you couldn t even afford to bring in some
kinds of logs, and they would have to be left In the woods. Times
have changed. The better lumber prices make it possible to bring
in the stuff that, in former years, had to be burned. The irony
of it is that conservationists who once condemned lumbermen for
their wastefulness now characterize them as being so greedy, they
even use the bark.
What you were trying to do in your editorials and in the Journal
was to disseminate this knowledge so that the people who had the
power to do something about it in industry might conduct their
forestry practices better for utilization?
No, those editorials are written primarily for foresters, to let
them know who butters their bread. Who butters any forester s
bread? It s the man who owns the timber and has to convert it
into a useful product. Now, If he hires a forester to supervise
the marking of trees to be cut or to grow another crop, the money
the forester gets as wages, or as a fee, sti I I comes out of that
lumberman s pocket. That s what a lot of early-day foresters
170
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
didn t understand, or didn t want to understand. So those edito
rials were directed largely toward the forestry profession itself.
Your very first editorial I think It was your first one--you
really qot Into trouble. Do you remember that?
The Interior Department.
You re right. It was the Interior Department. You said the Interior
Department had an infamous reputation, and who was it somebody
wanted you to withdraw this, and you did reprint it.
I don t think 1 used the term infamous. The Department has had
some very good secretaries. Paul Redington, the S.A.F. president,
called me long distance from Washington. He reported that many
Washington foresters objected to my description of the Department
of Interior. I liked Redington but he scared easily. We were
good friends in Arizona and New Mexico, and continued to be when
he was transferred to California as Regional Forester. He was very
friendly to me. Incidentally, Redington at that time was no longer
in the U.S.F.S. but was director of the Biological Survey; at least,
that s my recollection.
He had asked you to be the editor too, hadn t he?
Yes. I thought,
out. Who am I?
forestry. "
"This fellow is in a jam. I ve
Just an editor trying to make a
got to help him
place for American
So did you change your editorial?
I gave him permission to reprint a revised version from which the
offending adjective was omitted. On Redington s initiative, the
revised version was mailed to every Journal subscriber with the
request that he substitute it for the original. The new editorial
also carried a tag stating that the editor sincerely regrets having
cast aspersions on a good department like Interior. It was a damn
lie because, In the sense that there was any aspersion, it was a
deserved criticism, and furthermore, I thought it was double-cross
ing me by the Forest Service people when they themselves had been
condemning the Interior Department ever since the days of Pinchot.
It was the rankest kind of hypocrisy. But there was something in
the wind, possibly political, of which I was not aware. It must
have concerned the Hoover administration plan for reorganization,
and the foresters were afraid of the Interior Department.
And you wrote Chapman that you would be happy to resign if asked
to by Redington.
Did 1 say that? Chapman made that episode a criticism of Redington.
Yes, and you d just been in the editorship for a month.
171
Fritz: What s the date of that letter?
Fry: It occurred In November, 1930, and we have it numbered in file
S3:2. It s a letter to Chapman, but the letter regarding this
November editorial might have been \<~\ December.
Fritz: I d just love to see that again. As I say, I ve made an awful
lot of mistakes and that was one of the worst. I regret to this
day that I permitted the change. It was hypocritical of the Wash
ington foresters to take such umbrage. I still believe some boot
licking was involved. It was foolish also of Redington to send
out a revised editorial and to ask that it be substituted. It ac
complished only one thing it called attention to the situation.
Fry: Well, I guess what doesn t show up in the letters, you might want
to clarify on the tape. Somehow you did send out these reprinted
copies leaving out this phrase.
Fritz: I did not send it out. This was done from Washington. I received
only the copy to be substituted in my copy of the Journa I .
Fry: And then you heard again from them that what they wanted from Red
ington was this replaced In" every Journal that was mailed out and
you refused to do this. Thl s was" what you felt was too much. You had
already permitted your regrets to have been printed.
Fritz: I don t recall this, but If [ did refuse \ must have had second
thoughts on having acquiesced to the change, ht was silly. You
take, for example, a lawyer would ask a question in court knowing
that the judge would disallow It. But he gets the question before
the jury. It s the same thing. So you ve got your Journa I , you ve
got my editorial in it, then you get the correction paper. What
would you do with it? You d stick It on or paste It on. That s
what I did with mine.
Fry: So your "unsavory" quotation probably stood.
Fritz: You know, I think the term 1 used against the Interior Department
was "unsavory. "
Fry: It was "unsavory," yes. I just found it here in my notes.
Maunder: Was there a spirited exchange of letters in the period in which
you were editor? Did you get a strong rise out of some of the mem
bership in reaction to your editorials?
Fritz: There were not very many but those I got were very rough, from men
like Ward Shepard and Ed Munns and a few others. Earle Clapp and
Raymond Marsh, while they didn t write, would tell me about it or
would tell others, and I got the word that my editorials were too
strong. They felt that I should have sought more articles of the
type that indulged in policy discussions, and the relationship of
forestry to the general economy and stable communities, whereas
172
Fritz: I tried to get articles which showed forestry as to actual prac
tice. I was unsuccessful In doing this because the field forest
ers were not writers. They were busy on their jobs and didn t
Indulge very much In writing. I did get one article on the plant
ing program in the redwoods and several others, but they were not
very well accepted by the membership in general. When I say "in
general," 1 mean the old-timers who still ruled the roost.
I resigned voluntarily and possibly in a huff because of the state
ment the dean of the college made to me about doing that kind of
outside work, and also because of the lack of interest of the
Counci I .
Maunder: What was the dean s attitude? Was his feeling that you should be
doing research rather than this work?
Well, I don t like to say it, but when you re editor of a magazine
like that, your name is on the front page. You re singled out as
being with the University of California, and I don t think that
sat well with the head of the school. I don t think the dean of
the College of Agriculture cared very much, but he was the man who
had the final say as to a professor s future.
Fritz:
Maunder;
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Are you suggesting there may have been a
personal ego involved in the matter?
little bit of perhaps
I m afraid so. Also, it interfered with what I was trying to do
locally in getting forestry moved into the woods. I wasn t doing
any teaching and consulting work in forestry. My consulting work
then was almost solely in the general field of wood technology,
the decay of wood and attack by termites, wood preservation, the
grading and seasoning of lumber, and the like.
I think the format of the magazine today is better than it was
when I had it but, except for the fact that there s a better class
of writers now and it s easier to get articles, I think the-- Journa I
has slipped in the sense that it has lost leadership. If one~"wants
to read something on practical forestry today, he has to read maga-
z i nes I i ke The Timberman, The Southern Lumberman, and the exce I I ent
Northeastern Logger. I think there s a lot of dirt forestry in
those magazines, good stuff. That s the kind of stuff I was try-
Ing to get for the Journal of Forestry, but if I had gotten it and
printed it, I think I wouldr^t have lasted more than six months.
Do you think that these periodicals you ve mentioned maintain high
professional standards of editorial writing?
They are excellently done editorially for their particular field.
They are not professional magazines; they are trade magazines, but
trade magazines often run technical articles. You will find that
many foresters, when they can t get their stuff
where or if they want to be sure that it s read
pub I i shed el se-
by the people to
173
Fritz: whom it is addressed, will not give it to the Journal of Forestry
but to a magazine like The Tlmberman. In my own case, I have f re-
quently given short articles to a trade magazine because I wanted
them to reach the people who coi ld use them. They would not have
come across them otherwise.
CSince this interview was made, the trade magazines have changed
ownership but "dirt" forestry still appears in them. The Journal
of Forestry too has changed and has been greatly Improved in con-
tents and format under Hard in Glascock.H
The "Unholy Twe I ve Apostles"
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Emanuel, now we want to talk specifically about some matters that
had to do with your time as an editor and immediately following
your editorship of the Journal of Forestry in the Thirties.
You will recall that on June 13th, 1934, twelve members of the
Society signed a petition which they presented to the president
and Council, criticizing the present policies and methods of man
agement of the Journal . And at this particular moment, Franklin
Reed was editor-in-chief of the Journal , having succeeded you in
that position only a few months before.
A year and a half before.
I have some notes here which show that your editorship ran from
October, 1930 to December, 1932.
Right. The petition was introduced a year and a half later and
another six months later, the matter was discussed at the annual
convention, January, 1935, two years after my resignation.
And Franklin Reed had begun then, in January of 1933, and was still
editor at the particular moment when this petition was presented.
Now, I think it is also true that Reed continued in a sense the
policies that you had Initiated as editor, had he not, generally
speaking?
To a great extent, yes. You should know that the controversy was
not so much who was editor but the attempted use of the Journal by
a clique of socialistic convictions.
And was it also true
editor-in-chief, you
Reed a great deal of
that even after you resigned your position as
continued for a long time thereafter to give
help in getting out the Journal ?
Well, naturally every editor keeps his editing way ahead of his
needs. I made my decision to resign very suddenly in the month of
December. I had two or three issues edited ahead so they would
require very little more work, and maybe some new stuff would come
174
Fritz: in to me direct, and I would edit it for Reed, but that had nothing
to do with policy. The January, 1933, number was either on the
press or ready for It. I have forgotten. I must have completed
the editing for two more number c , so Reed had a running start.
Maunder: But you were not an "associate editor" in 1934?
Fritz: No. I was completely out and at my own free will without any pres
sure. There had been some criticism, but no more than any editor
receives. There was some "nit-picking" by a few in the lower eche
lons in the U.S.F.S. offices that an editor has to laugh off, and by
a few others, e.g., Ward Shepard, who was quite critical, but he was
not a we 1 1 man .
Maunder: In this article that we carried in our journal Forest History back
in the fall of 1962, on "The Evolution of the Society of American
Foresters as Seen in the Memoirs of H. H. Chapman," there is quite
a long section that has to do with the editorship of the Jpurnaj_
of Forestry. And your resignation from the editorship of the
Journal is noted here in December of 1932.
Chapman describes the event as follows: "On June 13, 1934, twelve
members of the Society petitioned the Council to give consideration
to needed changes In the editorial policy of the Journal of Forestry.
The twelve members who signed this petition were George P. Ahern,
Carlos G. Bates, Earle H. Clapp, L. F. Kneipp, W. C. Lowdermilk,
Robert Marshall, E. N. Munns, Gifford Pinchot, Edward C. M. Richards,
F. A. Silcox, William M. Sparhawk, and Raphael Zon. With the ex
ception of Ahern, Marshall, and Richards, all were members of the
Forest Service or affiliated with it. Gifford Pinchot and Major
Ahern had for some time been conducting a vigorous campaign to
secure national legislation which would give the Forest Service
authority to put an end to forest devastation* by regulating the
methods of cutting by all private owners including owners of farm
wood lots. The Editor of the Journal , Emanuel Fritz, CsicH did not
sympathize with this policy and the men who signed the petition
were determined to force the issue."
"The petition raised three points: I) the separation of the offices
of the Editor-in-Chief and Executive Secretary, 2) the selection for
Editor-in-Chief of a man of high literary and technical attainment
and with strong social convictions, and 3) a certain degree of in
dependence for the Editor-in-Chief within the limitations of policy
formulated by the Council."
Now, a little farther on here, he describes how all of this came to
a head, following your resignation in December of 1932. But then
in January of 1935, at the annual meeting of the Society in Wash
ington, D.C., William Sparhawk had prepared for the petitioners a
long statement covering the charges against the editor. Now the
editor at that time was Franklin Reed and In our footnote we note
this fact, but we also note the fact that their charges were proba
bly directed as much against you as the former editor, as they were
175
Maunder: against Reed as the present editor. And that you were present at
this annual meeting, according to Chapman, "prepared to defend
yourself," and that he, Chapman, asked you a favor, namely that
you say nothing In rejoinder tc these Twelve Apostles in their
statement.
Then he goes on to say that you, however, made rejoinder to the
Sparhawk statement, and that in so doing, you spilled the beans.
By launching your defense, you deliberately attacked one of the
signers of the petition in a personal manner, accusing him of
Communist sympathies. Now what do you have to say about that?
What did you actually say in response to Sparhawk?
Fritz: It sounds like Chapman asked me to make no response at all to Spar-
hawk. (Are you sure it was Sparhawk?) Actually, if my memory
doesn t play me false, I was on the program and was invited up to
the podium where I was to and did speak at length about Journal
problems. While I was up there, Chapman had left the room to go
to the White House.
Maunder: Yes, to present a Sen Men Medal to Franklin Roosevelt.
Fritz: We went through part of the lunch hour. It must have been the
vice-president who had the chair and who decided to recess for
lunch. The topic was to have been resumed after lunch. Don t
forget that: the Journal matter was to have been resumed after
lunch. I was speaking more or less "off the cuff" and in general
terms from notes I made while the spokesman of the Twelve Apostles
was speaking. My only preparation, as I recall, was notes on a
card file concerning each of the petition signers.
I had not reached a discussion of this particular group of men
when the meeting was recessed for lunch. I was going to let the
audience know just what each petitioner had done to the Journal .
Not one of the Twelve gave the Journal any help. One was an as
sociate editor whose own article had to be heavily edited to make
it readable. Another was the one 1 mentioned earlier as having
threatened to end my editorship before it got started.
Fry: You never did read your notes on them?
p ritr: I will come to that. Sparhawk had a long statement and my rejoin
der was equally long. I was not defending myself, 1 was defending
the policies of the Journa I at the time Reed was editor. 1 want
to make that clear.
Maunder: Did you make those policies or did the Council?
Fritz: No one had suggested anything to me as editor as to policy. As far
as I know, the editor, until the latter years of Clepper, had full
sway. But there might have been some suggestions on the part of the
Council or president that the Journal ought to do this or ought to
do that. Well, that s all right. They certainly had that privilege
176
Fritz: and they were supposed to have and show an interest In the Journal .
But I was not given any orders as to what the policy shou I d be\
All of the Twelve and the many others knew what my views wero lonq
before Redlngton tendered me the editorship.
Maunder: Did you have to submit any editorials you wrote for publication to
anyone before they were published?
Fritz: I wasn t asked to, and why should an editor have to do that?
Maunder: I don t say that you should. I just asked if you were ever asked
to do that.
Fritz: No. No one knew what the subject was going to be until it appeared
in the Journal . I wrote several editorials during Zon s editorship
which he published without revealing the authorship. These were on
practical subjects such as concentrating on the great expanse of
conifers in the West and ignoring the hardwoods of the eastern U.S.
Another one concerned the term "selective logging": just what does
it mean, the selection of logs after clear-cutting and abandoning
the rest, or does it mean the felling of trees on a selective basis
and leaving the others stand? I had seen some of
logs from clear-cutting. It was very wasteful.
Maunder:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
the selection of
Once a tree is
felled,
mitted.
it should be utilized as far as market requirements per
We re wandering away from the subject again.
Do you mean that you and Zon really didn t come to a splitting of
the roads until later?
I wouldn t say that we ever split, but in my opinion, Zon did some
things that are not regarded as good scientific spirit.
This was after you became editor?
After I quit the editorship. Zon loved his editorship and could not
adjust to someone else sitting in the editor s chair. Zon was the
mouthpiece of the Pinchot group.
Who was the member of the Twelve Apostles you implied was or ac
cused of being a Communist in the course of this discussion in
January s annual meeting of 1935?
First of all, I did not accuse him.
What did you say?
I said that one of the Apostles (a signer of the petition) had that
very morning been reported in the newspapers as having been accused
of being a Communist the day before in Congress. A big difference,
isn t it?
77
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Well, who was this man?
Robert Marshal I .
Who called him that In the Congress?
I don t recall. I think It was In the House of Representatives.
How did you happen to know that he had been called this in the
Congress that very morning?
It was in the newspapers. (It was
the accusation must have been made
cuse him of being a Communist,
me go on from there.
in the morning newspapers so
the day before.) I didn t ac-
. i
That s what Chapman said. Now let
At the close
tion was to
down to a ta
that night,
he was boi I i
never walked
hanging down
said, using
my orders."
of the recess for lunch, the discussion on the peti-
have been resumed. I remember skipping lunch to go
i lor shop to have my dress suit altered for the banquet
When I got back, the first man I met was Chapman and
ng mad. Chapman, you know, was of chunky build and
erect but leaned forward with those long arms of his
in front of him. He came at me like a gorilla and
the mild profanity he used to use, "You didn t follow
I probably told him that I wasn t under his orders and that I cer
tainly felt that way about It. I told him what happened. He told
me L. F. Kneipp came to him and said that I accused Marshall of
being a Communist. Kneipp and Marshall were very close friends.
Fry: Did you tell him you d only Implied it?
Fritz: I must have told him it was in the newspapers in the morning, but
that didn t make any difference to Chapman. When Chapman had his
mind made up that that desk there was white instead of dark gray,
that settled it.
Maunder: Well, do you suppose that he felt that by making this implication, you
may have alienated a lot of the members present? There are a lot
of people who don t like this kind of Impl ication.They don t like
this assigning labels to people. And Chapman may have felt that by
this tactic or statement on your part, you gave the enemy in this
case some ammunition.
Fritz: Well, you make me recall the comments made personally at the end of
that talk. I have never before or since been approached by so many
people who shook my hand and said, "That was a wonderful thing you
did this morning. You put those fellows in their places." And one
of those men was Walter Mulford. I was pleasantly stunned by Mul-
ford s favorable comment. I knew that he did not approve of the
petition. He was a very meek and reserved man.
178
Fry: What else did you say In that speech? We ve just been talking
about one remark here, but you said you had notes on all of these
men.
Fritz: Yes. It was my intention to point out to the Society members that
this group had designs on the Journal , to make it a sort of propa
ganda organ to promote public ownership and/or federal control of
all private forest land. They even had designs on the national
parks.
I think most of the audience wanted to hear what I had to say about
the signers, but when we reconvened after lunch, Kneipp moved that
we drop the subject and go on to the next item on the program. Chap
man was in the chair. So I lost an opportunity to show how unfair
the petitioners were to Editor Reed and how they were endangering
the independence of the Journal . On that day, Chapman showed his
color. He was not in favor of the petition, he felt the editor
should have independence, and he had been all for my beingfon the
program to protest the petition. My reference to Marshall would
have pleased him, had not Kneipp worked him over. Chapman made
life miserable for Reed and soon had him separated from his job
as secretary and editor. Reed died soon thereafter. He was a very
sensitive person.
Maunder: Were there proceedings to this meeting?
Fritz: There should have been.
Maunder: Was there a transcript made so that there would be a verbatim
record of everything that was said?
Fritz: It would be a wonderful thing to have.
Maunder: Would you know if there was such?
Fritz: I don t remember that anything was published.
Fry: Wouldn t Reed have seen that this would have been made? There are
proceedings of the annual meetings during these years in here.
Fritz: All this took place more than thirty years ago before we had tape
recorders and before the S.A.F. could afford to hire a court reporter.
Please don t think I was proud of the stand I felt I had to take.
When I adopted forestry as a profession I had one single purpose
to put forestry in the woods. I had heard or seen too much of
condemnation of lumbermen destroying the forest, too much mission
ary zeal, too much worship of Pinchot. At the same time, there was
a growing number of young foresters going into private employ who
had the same idea I had. These young fellows had to submit to the
ridicule and sometimes the suspicions of their counterparts in pub
lic employ. They had to overcome opposition from the woods workers
179
Fritz: and had to win the confidence of their bosses. If there have been
any heroes In American forestry, It was this bunch of foresters on
Industrial payrolls. It took courage to go into private employ in
those days.
Fry: About that petition I wonder about the first point. It says that
the Twelve Apostles suggest that the editor (this future editor that
they want) not be subject to dictation by the Executive Council in
editorial policy, and yet you said that you hadn t been subject to
dictation by Executive Council. Why did they put that In their
petition?
Fritz: They were probably thinking of the future. It was already plain
that the Pinchot group was losing control of the S.A.F.
Fry: Well, do you think that they were really serious in wanting to
start a new magazine?
Fritz: There were rumors. If there was any such thought they could con
trol the magazine, I am sure that it would have become a propaganda
organ.
Fry: In other words, they were criticizing you for not having enough of
the New Deal spirit In yours.
Fritz: Well, that s about right.
Fry: They said it was lacking in the "spirit of social leadership,"
while the problems "were not discussed in the spirit of the New
Deal" over the last few years.
Fritz: That is certainly true. The S.A.F. is not a welfare association.
It is a society of professional foresters. The social welfare
game should not be the main business of foresters.
Fry: And so you think their new magazine would probably have been spe
cifically a magazine to back up their efforts to get federal con
trol of forest management?
Fritz: You have no idea how close this country was to a dictatorship and
a socialistic form of government, the forerunner of a strong bur
eaucracy topped by a dictator. In 1940 or 39, Earle Clapp wrote
to all the regional foresters and all the experiment station heads,
to do their utmost to influence the forestry schools to adopt pro
grams that the Forest Service was promoting. Now that was really
something! You will find a copy in my files.
Fry: This letter went to whom?
Fritz: It went to all the regional foresters and to all the heads of the
experiment stations to exercise their influence on the schools to
make their policies those of the Forest Service. Now that was
180
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry :
Fritz:
Maunder:
really trying to control education, wasn t it? And I know that
here in this school, when we were in Glarinlnl Hall, the head of
the experiment station did actually try to force his Influence on
us.
On what issues?
Influencing the faculty to follow the tenets of the U.S.F.S. and
the support of the U.S.F.S. efforts to get control of private for
est land management.
Regulations specifically?
Yes.
Did this actually trickle down into classrooms or do you know?
Well, it certainly would have if the head of the school should have
gotten the faculty to follow the leadership of the U.S.F.S. Mulford
would not have stood for it. Our school, to a man, opposed the
kind of federal regulation Pinchot and Clapp wanted.
Was Pinchot the figure behind this move to get forestry regulations?
He was more than a figurehead; Clapp, as acting Chief Forester, fol
lowed the Pinchot line.
From a letter in your files that Chapman passed along to you, I get
the idea that Pinchot was willing to put up money to get this new
magazine started. Do you remember anything about that?
No, I don t remember that. I wouldn t be surprised though, because
at one time and I think it was in the Forties or early Fifties
Mrs. Pinchot, after G. P. di.ed, actually started a counter organi
zation .
What was that?
What did they cal I
I ike that.
it American Conservation Association, something
Oh yes. Well, they still have one called that.
Some of the Twelve Apostles and some of their sycophants were in
volved in that.
Emanuel, I have been studying Volume Thirty-three of the Journal
of Forestry for 1935, in which the "Proceedings" of the annual
meeting of that year are published. These "Proceedings" cover
January 28, 29, and 30, and they seem to be quite complete with a
rather notable exception of the morning session of January 29, which
is the session we ve been talking about in which this storm blew up
between you and others and that Is expunged from the record here.
18!
Fritz: I m sorry to be reminded of that. I had completely forgotten
about it.
Maunder: That part was not published. N^w, every other session, morning,
afternoon, and evening, of every other day is represented in here
by some comment and reports of one kind or another and papers, but
the morning session, January 29, does not appear here.
Fritz: Who was editor then, Smith?
Maunder: I believe so because at the very beginning is a little editorial
by Henry S. Graves, announcing Herbert A. Smith s appointment as
editor of the Journal .
Fritz: Well, Smith was all that I described him as being, a real gentle
man and a scholar. He was also imbued with the spirit of Pinchot.
His editorials were more like essays. He was a very good writer.
One could not call his editorials propaganda.
Fry: So he was a New Deal type.
Maunder: Would you say that he withheld this part of the debate?
Fritz: I doubt it. It is very likely that he never got it. Smith was a
very honest man.
Maunder: Why? He s got everything else here.
Fritz: Who was the business manager or the managing editor?
Maunder: Franklin W. Reed.
Fritz: Well, Reed was an employee. If anyone took notes, it is likely
that he was ordered not to give them to the editor. But I doubt
the performance was recorded.
Maunder: Weren t you aware of this item being missing from the Journa I ?
Fritz: That I don t remember. In this case, I probably did.
Maunder: Didn t you ever challenge the editor with why he didn t cover this
i n the Journal ?
Fritz: No. No, I don t recall ever challenging him, and I don t recall
ever noticing that was missing. I heard it, and that was all I
was interested in.
Fry: Well, do you think Chapman would have asked him to take it out?
Fritz: I don t know.
Maunder: Did this discussion on the morning of the twenty-ninth become a
real shouting match?
182
Fritz: ! don t recall any interruptions,
outnumbered.
The Twelve Apostles were badly
Maunder: I m trying to understand why it s not in the "Proceedings," and It
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Fry:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
seems to me that if it had descended to that level
been kept out for purely good professional reasons.
it might have
I recall no interruptions. The afternoon session might have been
different, if Kneipp had not moved to drop the subject.
But then Chapman took over after lunch.
On an occasion like that, I might have gotten wrought up, but not
on that one. Awaiting my turn while sitting in the audience, I got
myself in as calm a mood as possible. Usually I am very tense on
the platform. Sparhawk was very serious. I knew 1 had to be calm.
In fact, this whole business was a comedy and I tried to treat it
as such. I spoke with no rancor or vehemence. This part I remember
very well. I think it hurt the petitioners cause.
Sparhawk s statement is also stricken from the record here.
That s not in here either?
That s something that I d like to look into why It was cut out.
Or have I forgotten that I noted its absence. Perhaps there s some
thing in my file on that. If the S.A.F. file for that performance
has been saved, I hope I can see it just to read the whole story
again. I really enjoyed the scrap. The motivation and action of
the Twelve was silly and childish. A sense of humor would have
helped them. But they left Sparhawk holding the bag; his compan
ions did not rise to help him. Kneipp s motion to drop the sub
ject was fortunate.
Perhaps we should be glad a full report of the morning s proceed
ings were withheld from the Journal . It wasn t pretty. 1 never
could understand why some of the signers put their names on the
petition. The petition was probably the work of only four or five.
The others probably were talked into signing.
What were all the undercurrents that seemed to come to a head here
in 1934?
I think the January, 1935, convention of the S.A.F. in Washington
was a turning point in the battle for federal regulation. The
National Recovery Act had been passed and its Article X, applying
to logging, was put to work. The general economy was improving.
(Logging was almost at a complete standstill until about 1934.)
Proponents of federal regulation were being beaten down by those
who favored cooperation.
This whole matter as we talk about it here reminds me of the U.S.F.S.
man who said he would see me removed from the editorship before my
183
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
I announced to him.
me on the Journal
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
third month if I followed the editorial policy
We have already discussed this when you queried
Job.
Who was this? Earle Clapp?
No, I won t mention his name. He was a good fellow but he was over-
enthusiastic, and sometimes overzealous. However, his name was on
that list of Twelve Apostles. So you see the hierarchy in Washing
ton wanted that Journal as its own particular mouthpiece.
Had it been that way under Raphael Zon s editorship?
To a large extent, yes. Zon was one of the petitioners in 1934.
Raphael Zon had been, to all intents and purposes, editor-in-chief
of that publication for roughly twenty-three years because even
while Fernow was the editor, Zon was really doing most of the work,
was he not? At least, that is the interpretation that is given by
Franklin Reed here in his "History of the Journal of Forestry."
On page 787, in this October, 1934, issue, he summarizes the issue
of the Journal by citing the various editors-in-chief. And he says:
"To all practical intents, Zon was editor-in-chief for the Society
for twenty-three years. He served on the editorial board of the
proceedings from its inception. ..." That was back in about 1903
or 1904, I be I ieve.
1902, probably. The Journal started as "Proceedings" in that year.
"During the same period, he was Fernow s right hand assistant on
the quarterly. During the five years that Fernow was editor-in-
Zon s resignation
Zon was managing editor,
initiative for a combination of reasons, one of
chief of the Journal
was at his own
them being that his official duties no longer left him this neces
sary spare time." And then Dana took over in 1928. Well, the point
I would like to raise here is this: having had such a long span as
the editor of the Journal and of its predecessor publications . . .
Not editor but influence you mean.
Right. But managing editor in many cases is the man who is really
cutting most of the editorial pattern. And I would imagine that
over this long period of time, Zon must have had quite a proprie
tary feeling about the Journal .
He did that. There s no question about it. But I would disagree
that the managing editor has more power over what goes in the book
than the editor in this particular case. It might be in a commer
cial magazine where you depend on advertising. But you take for
example, Dana. Dana was a very well-educated man, a man of superior
intellect and standard of ethics, a man of good common sense and
independence. And although he s never said this to me, I sensed,
when I took over the editorship, that the people in Washington
[84
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
hoped to get control of the magazine. They couldn t get control
of it while Dana was In charge of It.
These were the federal forester.., you re talking about?
Yes. Most of them were federal foresters.
You three, Zon, Dana, and then you, took on the magazine s editor
ship, and then all of you had to give it up for essentially the
same reason, that it just required more time than you could reason
ably afford to give it?
It was a very thankless job for any volunteer editor and for me it
was very costly. I ll just give an example of the time involved.
I had a comparatively light teaching schedule, but I had consider
able other work to do also. Some of the administrative work at the
school was farmed out among the faculty members, and I was also
interested in this controversy over the control of lumbering by
the federal government.
My wife and I used to attend plays, concerts and lectures in Wheeler
Hall or somewhere else around the Bay Region. She wanted to arrive
before the crowd came when it would be hard to find a seat (when
they re not reserved), and she Insisted on being there at least a
half an hour early. So to occupy that half hour sometimes it went
to an hour I took along two or three articles and would edit one
or more before curtain time.
You mean you just used every available moment.
I had to but I enjoyed it.
When did that so-called clique within the profession go into eclipse
as far as its power was concerned?
You ve got to put several things together there. I think Silcox
was the Chief Forester and he was followed by Lyle Watts. I knew
Silcox when he was regional forester in Missoula, Montana. He quit
the Forest Service for a number of years and was sort of a union
boss of the typographers in New York City. He had strong social
istic tendencies. Nevertheless, I asked him one day, "What is the
matter with the Forest Service back there in Washington? It isn t
like it was when you and I were in Missoula." And he said, "No, it
isn t. I m terribly concerned over the self-righteousness of the
Forest Service." And in just those two words he expressed my own
sentiments.
Who first called the petitioners the Twelve Apostles?
I don t know where it arose.
Was it well bandied around? Was this common talk?
185
Fritz: Yes.
Maunder: Was It ever published in the Journal In this way? Were thoy called
this publicly In the Journal ?
Fritz: Could be. If I had been editor at the time, I certainly would have
used it.
Maunder: Well, how long did this group hold sway? When did its power reach
its apex and when did it start to go into decline?
Fritz: In my opinion, the January, 1935, confrontation was the beginning
of its eclipse. But its end came shortly after World War II.
There had been some deaths, the country s economy began to boom,
the Forest Service was on the verge of a boom itself in timber sales
and therefore had public relations problems of its own. A tire-con
suming effort toward a redwood national forest was made at the be
hest of Congresswoman Helen Gahagan Douglas. The Tree Farm program
was expanding rapidly, and other events changed the entire forest
situation.
The forestry profession has grown out of its sophomoric period.
The men in responsible forest jobs, private and public, are more
objective, better trained, and have had more field experience. Most
important, the forestry schools are far better. Their professors
"have better backgrounds in science and economics, and this has in
creased their independence. What has gone before is now history.
I was glad to have been a pa.rt of the profession In its "teen"
years, even though my part was small.
Maunder: When you were editor, were you seeking to build a bridge of under
standing between the two groups?
Fritz: As the editor, yes. Let me make something clear at this point.
The difference between the two groups was really a clash of phi
losophies. The Pinchot-Forest Service group was determined to get
control of all private lumbering through Congressional legislation.
The other group felt the cooperative approach was more democratic.
In the U.S. there always have been some people who wanted all au
thority centered in Washington and some others who were for the
private enterprise system. Foresters in private employ resented
a federal bureau ordering their activities. Each side was still
learning the timber management job. Of the two, the private for
ester had the best opportunity to learn the job because he had to
prove himself in the accounting room as well as in the woods. The
editor of the Journa I was expected by the one to beat the drums of
doom if the government isn t given the authority to regulate all
forest practices, while the other side expected him to publish
stuff of practical use to the manager.
I was interested in applying forestry in the woods. A common ex
pression I ve used a hundred times was, "Take forestry out of the
swivel chair and put it into the woods where it belongs." And that
186
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
is what I was trying to do in the Journal . When you look over
the list of men who formed those Twelve Apostles, you ll find
that some of them never had a forest to manage.
When you were editor, you not only solicited articles, but you
critically read them, made suggestions for improvement to the
authors, and carried them all the way through the editorial pro
cess, including copyreading and proofreading all this by long
distance, I presume, with the authors and the publisher, by mail.
You re quite right. I also wrote the leaders, a brief summary at
the head of each article. I had a card index, which was my guide
as to the authors and the titles. The cards kept a record of wfterr
an article was received, what was done with it, and so on. In-
cidentally, that card index came in very handy to me one time.
Zon was a peculiar type of man. He had a lot of excellent quali
ties and he was a very able man, but he was very one-sided and
susp icious.
After he gave up the
the magazine was goi
I Ike Zon. He wrote
refusing to pub I Ish
He said that I dldn 1
my card index and I
celved the article,
it, and when it was
I ish an article with
Journal of Forestry editorship, he felt that
ng to the dogs, that no one could do a job
me a very nasty letter once, accusing me of
an article written by one of his own staff,
t even acknowledge it. I immediately went to
found the whole record there the day I re-
the day it was acknowledged, what was done with
to be published. It was not possible to pub-
in thirty days after its receipt.
Was there much plagiarism on the part of the Washington office?
There was some. I first learned about it while I was stationed in
Arizona at the Experiment Station near Flagstaff. There would be
long letters and long distance telephone calls from Washington.
Gus Pearson was the head man at the Station. He was a very honest
man, very consciencious and very sensitive. Sometimes when the
telephone conversation was ended, he would walk around the room,
evidently distraught or distressed. He then would unburden to me
(he and I had become very good friends), "What do you think so-and-
so said to me?" or "What do you think so-and-so is doing?" Gener
ally it concerned plagiarism or a dictatorial attitude at the other
end of the I ine.
Maunder: Nevertheless, you were elected a Fellow of the Society of American
Foresters.
Fritz: Yes, I was made a Fellow in 1951. I knew my name was up because
it was published along with the names of other candidates. I gave
it little thought because I felt I d never make the grade.
Maunder: Weren t you denied election as a Fellow for quite a long time be
cause of this row?
87
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Fry:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
Maunder:
Fritz:
It s possible, but I don t recall having been a candidate earlier.
At least, I was not among earlier lists of candidates.
How many blackba 
