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SCI LIBRARY

The Henry George School's
First Twenty-Five Years

Robert Clancy


[Orignally published with the title "Five and Twenty Years".
Reprinted from the Henry George News, January-April, 1957]


1957 is here -- and with it the twenty-fifth anniversary of an institution devoted to bringing the world a knowledge of the Georgist message. The Henry George School of Social Science enters its second quarter-century with mingled pride and humility. Pride in the greatness of the Georgist philosophy, the vision of the founder, Oscar H. Geiger, and the progress that has thus far been made. Humility in the face of all that yet remains to be done and the knowledge that "we do not see it all." But we know that this institution will go on and that truth must ultimately prevail.

I. Founding of the School


"There is an enchanted, hidden sot in the human soul," wrote Stefan Zeromski, "fastened with seven locks which no one and nothing but that picklock, bitter adversity, can open."

If there ever was a time of bitter adversity it was surely in the dark depression days of 1931 and 1932. January first, 1932 was the most cheerless of New Year's days. And it was on just that day that the soul of a man was unlocked and a brightness came forth. The man was Oscar H. Geiger and the brightness was the Henry George School of Social Science.

For many years Geiger carried the school idea within him. He was an ardent follower of Henry George and watched the emergence of the movement under its leader's guidance, saw it flourish for a while, then decline and become all but extinct. He participated fully in the movement's activities, its propaganda, politics and pamphleteering. But within him he knew that something more canny, more concentrated was needed than these brave gestures. He knew that Henry George was the bearer of a profound message, a philosophy of life, of which the fiscal means though very important, was but an outward manifestation. He knew that this philosophy called for nothing less than the re-education of mankind.

But during ail those years there were too many distractions, a disastrous war, revolutionary upheavals, the noisy prosperity of the 'twenties and all sorts of new fads and "isms" competing for attention. Geiger himself was fully occupied with running a business and raising a family.

But by January first, 1932, things were different. The Georgist movement had all but spun itself out. The world was bewildered and chastened by a long depression. And Geiger who had become jobless as a result of the depression was living on his savings.

It was thus that in this time of Georgist, world and personal adversity, Oscar Geiger made his decision and brought his school into being.

Now on that New Year's day there was nothing conspicuous to see except perhaps a man's New Year's resolution. But soon there were developments.

Sometime in January a lecture was given by Oscar Geiger in a rented room, the first meeting under the name Henry George School of Social Science.

In February, a letter went out to Georgists all over the country inviting them to form into an advisory council. Most accepted.

On April fifteenth a board of trustees was formed.

Weekly lectures were conducted by Geiger and by guest speakers at the Pythian Temple, Manhattan.

The Pythian Temple lectures were suspended for the summer. At the final meeting in June the younger members expressed a desire to see something done about the Georgist message they had been hearing. Geiger's response was, "For forty years I have been watching young minds opening up to the truth and never have I been so touched as tonight." And he added, "you are the nucleus of a movement that will some day spread around the world."

The "nucleus" continued in a private home in the Bronx during the summer.

In October, the Friday lectures at the Pythian Temple were resumed and the Bronx meetings were continued on Sundays. There were also meetings at the home of John Luxton in Brooklyn on Wednesdays.

Besides his three-a-week lectures, Geiger did considerable work at his home in West 154th Street, and I well remember several visits to his home, with pleasant Mrs. Geiger presiding over refreshments. These visits were rich experiences for me. Never before or since have I met anyone with both the spiritual depth and mental acumen of Oscar Geiger. It seemed to to me that the things he said were just so.

Besides Geiger's home, there was also the tiny office of Land and Freedom at 150 Nassau Street, which served as the official mailing address of the school. Land and Freedom was the leading Georgist journal in the U.S. for many years, edited by the kindly sage, Joseph Dana Miller. Geiger served as its treasurer and also wrote much of the editorial matter.

Between his five bases of operation, Geiger had to keep a lot of scattered threads together. "The school needs a home," said he, and when friends asked him how he expected to acquire such a home, his own as well as general prospects being what they were, he replied, "a door will open."

Another need was beginning to make itself clear, and that was the formation of some educational program. A smallish group of people came to the lectures fairly steadily, others came and went, but there was not enough growth. Geiger, having conceived the idea of a course based on George's Progress and Poverty, went through his copy of that masterpiece, marking it up extensively and making up a series of questions based on the book. These emerged as a ten lesson course to be given in weekly two-hour sessions.

Two trial classes were held in the spring of 1933 at the Pythian Temple attended by a total of about fifty students. The marked success of this experiment pointed the way to the future program. With some slight revisions from time to time, Geiger's outline of the course has since become the basic teachers manual and the course has become the school's chief teaching activity. Other courses have more or less followed the same pattern.

The need for a home was seen by one of Geiger's students, Leonard T. Recker, and he offered to pay one full year's rent for a location to be selected by Geiger, "A door has opened," said Geiger, and on July first, 1933, Oscar Geiger and the Henry George School moved to 211 West 79th Street.

A fund appeal was sent out to Georgists that summer but the results were pitiful. Geiger's faith remained strong, but he was sorely tried by the difficulties. He believed that if he did the right thing, help would come. He did not plan for the future but he was determined to make the foundation solid so that others could and would continue the school.

In the fall of 1933 the first term started in the new headquarters -- indeed it was the first full-fledged Henry George School program ever launched, in a regular school with a classroom and a course of study. Eighty-four students enrolled. There were several classes a week, and Geiger taught them all besides doing all the work of directing. The only staff help was from a young lady, Edith Salkay, who was taken on as secretary. He might have turned over some of the teaching to others, but such were his standards that he felt he had to blaze the way all by himself. The work and anxiety naturally told on his health.

To the ten-week course in Progress and Poverty was added another five-weeks of Protection or Free Trade with Social Problems as collateral reading. The length of the course, fifteen weeks, was mainly to suit the requirement of "alertness credit" for public school teachers.

Following this, an advanced fifteen-week course was given, based on The Science of Political Economy, and The Philosophy of Henry George, by Oscar's son, George R. Geiger. There were 84 students for the first term and 75 stayed through the entire course of study.

One of the students was Helen D. Benbigh, an assistant principal of a Brooklyn public school who had come not for alertness credit, but to find the cause of poverty -- and she saw much of it. At the Henry George School she learned the reasons for it and, pure and unselfish soul that she was, she dedicated herself to the cause. In the spring of 1934 she arranged a meeting with her fellow students and urged them to form into a group in order to help the director in his pressing tasks. Again Geiger was deeply moved. A fund appeal was prepared, signed by Miss Denbigh on behalf of the students, and sent to Georgist friends.

To Geiger this initiative taken by Miss Denbigh and her fellow students was significant; it proved that the school was solidly established, that others could and would carry it on.

Indeed not much more time remained for Oscar Geiger in this sphere of life. The spring term was over. A well-attended dinner was held on June 7th at the Town Hall. Plans were started for the next school year. During the summer Geiger was to enjoy a long-overdue rest by being a guest at the summer home of Miss Denbigh. Alas! his rest came in another way. All during June he was ill and early Friday morning, on June 29, 1934 he died of a coronary thrombosis.

His shocked and grief-stricken students gathered for the funeral which was held at the school on Sunday, July first. They were totally unprepared for this calamity. They knew, though, that this was not the end.


"Men congregate naturally. It is in the nature of things for them to do so. Our mission should be to use this tendency to induce men to gather to talk the philosophy of Henry George." [Oscar Geiger]

This is the second of a series of four articles on the history of the Henry George School, written on the occasion of its 25th anniversary. The first article told of the school's beginnings up to the death of the founder, Oscar H. Geiger, in June 1934.

II. Growth


When the founder died, what was left? Who would carry on?

Oscar Geiger had allowed few to help him because few came up to his high standards. He was a perfectionist -- but perfectionism, he felt had to go into the founding of the school. No one had been trained, no plans were made for carrying on the work.

Was this a mistake? Not according to Geiger's outlook on life. "All the planning has been done by Nature," he said. "If I am acting in accordance with Nature's plan, help will come. It is only for me to do my part. If I have done my part well the rest is in other hands," and so it was!

Not long after Geiger's death his faithful student Helen Denbigh called a meeting of her fellow students. At this "Pentecost," the group expressed their determination to do their best in carrying on the work of the founder. They were not experts but laymen deeply moved by the Georgist philosophy and Geiger's teaching. A reasoned analysis plus a moral urge led them on.

The board of trustees appointed a new director, Norman C. B. Fowles, one of the "old-timers" of the movement. Geiger's notes for the course made the basis for a teacher's manual. Copies were made up by Leonard Recker's printing company.

In the fall of 1934 notices of classes were printed up and mailed out. Geiger had offered "alertness credits" to school teachers, and these were continued, but the mailing list became more diversified. Geiger had charged $10 for the 15-week course (including three textbooks and a free subscription to Land and Freedom), though he was liberal with "free scholarships." It was now decided to offer the course tuition-free, and to depend on contributions to keep going. New students did come and classes were taught by Mr. Fowles and others.

There was movement elsewhere, too. One of the Georgists of Chicago Henry L. T. Tideman, formed an extension of the school in his city. Julian P. Hickok did likewise in Philadelphia. Georgists in other cities also started extensions -- all on a voluntary basis.

Mr. Fowles was director for about a year, then Otto K. Dorn took over, modestly using the title of business manager. (Mr. Dorn later became, and still is, a trustee). Anna George de Mille, daughter of Henry George, became president of the board of trustees.

John Lawrence Monroe (son-in-law of Henry Tideman) came to New York from Chicago and was engaged as field director. Mr. Monroe brought to this new taks his experience with his late father's touring Henry George Lecture Association. This time, John Monroe toured the country on behalf of the Henry George School, encouraging Georgists to form extension classes. Between 1936 and 1939 no fewer than 200 cities and towns launched classes in Progress and Poverty. In 1939 Mr. Monroe returned to Chicago to become director of the Henry George School there, a post which he holds to this day.

In 1936, Frank Chodorov became director of the school in New York. Up to this time modest contributions had enabled the school to carry on, and now a bequest from Charles O'Connor Hennessy, and conuibutions begun by John C. Lincoln, opened up possibilities of expansion.

A correspondence division was started in 1937. Gaston Haxo was engaged to conduct the course and the project grew rapidly. The year 1937 also saw the launching of The Freeman, a monthly edited by Mr. Chodorov. Classes were promoted in the suburbs of New York, a job vigorously pursued by Teresa McCarthy. (It was also in 1937 that the school received the absolute charter from the State of New York).

With these expanding activities the school soon outgrew its rented quarters at 211 West 79th Street. A building at 30 East 29th Street was purchased from the New York Telephone Company, and the Henry George School moved into its first own building in September 1938. A few months later the Robert Schalkenbach Foundation moved in.

It was a roomy five-story building with scope for the growth that was taking place. Up went the enrollments, the number of advanced courses, the classes around the city, and the extensions in other cities. A speakers' bureau was formed, with Dorothy Sara as volunteer chairman, and scarcely a day passed without a school speaker filling a lecture engagement before some other group. All speakers and teachers were volunteers -- and still are.

Was some of this growth pushed a little too hard? Possibly. But during the depression of the 'thirties people were concerned about economic problems and they had the time and inclination to study and discuss them serously.

The Henry George School was becoming known abroad, too. In 1936 there was an international conclave of Georgists in London. Anna George de Mille and Lancaster M. Greene (newly elected to the board of trustees) attended and encouraged Georists from Denmark, Australia and England to form schools.

Another international conference (sponsored by the same group. the International Union for Land Value Taxation and Free Trade) was held in New York in 1939 -- the centenary of Henry George's birth. The conference opened at the Hotel Commodore with a welcome by Mayor LaGuardia, and climaxed with a meeting at the World's Pair addressed by Judge Samuel Seabury, on Henry George's birthday, September 2nd. On that very day World War II broke out.

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III. Ebb and Flow


When the war broke out in Europe in 1939 the effects on the Henry George School in the US. were not immediate. Enrollments continued to go up, and in fact 1940 and 1941 were peak years with over 1,000 graduates of the basic course each year, in New York alone.

But, as Henry George observed, the tide can still be seen to advance in some places while it has already begun to recede. It was, of course, inevitable that the war should take its toll with this as with all civilian efforts.

In 1939 the pattern of school extensions in various cities was not yet what it is today. Many were still going along under the impetus given by John Monroe, on a loosely organized volunteer basis. Some extensions, however, began to be operated on a more permanent base with a full-time director and an office. The first ones, in 1939, were Chicago with John Monroe; St Louis with Noah Alper; and Montreal with Strethel Walton. Later came Philadelphia in 1941 with Joseph Stockman; and Los Angeles in 1943 with William Truehart. (All are nill going strong.) Contributions were given by New York headquarters, supplemented by local contributions.

As the European war waxed, Americans were divided on the issue, and so were Georgists. Feeling on both sides ran high in the school and the controversy reached the proportions of a split until that fateful day, December 7, 1941, took the matter out of the realm of discussion. One by one the teachers said goodbye as they headed for the armed forces, war work, or, in some cases, camps for conscientious objectors. Margaret Bateman, who had come to New York from Canada, replaced Frank Chodorov as director early in 1942.

Students and potential students too, were involved in the war effort, and so it was that 1942 to 1945 were ebb-tide years.

But -- and this is important -- the work did go on. It was not like World War I, which crippled beyond recovery the great Georgist political efforts that had been going strong prior to the war. This seems to me to indicate that Oscar Geiger was right in his diagnosis of the Georgist movement and that the educational work was truly a solid foundation that would make continuous growth possible.

In 1944 the school bought the building it now occupies at 50 East 69th Street from the Dommerich family, and moved into it in June. This beautiful building, the school's finest home, served not only as headquarters, but also as a morale booster to Georgists the world over.

Came the war's end and the return to civilian life. I came back, too, from service with Uncle Sam, and was offered a job at the school as office manager. In May, 1946, Miss Bateman resigned and I became acting director, and in 1948, director.

In March, 1947, Anna George de Mille, president of the board of trustees and the last surviving child of Henry George, passed away, and was succeeded as president by John C. Lincoln. In her last years Mrs. de Mille had been working on a biography of her noted father; and just before she died it was accepted for publication by the University of North Carolina Press. Henry George: Citizen of the World appeared in 1950, and a special celebration dinner was held by the Henry George School.

The Freeman had been converted to The Henry George News in 1943, and in April 1946, Alice Elizabeth Davis became, and still is, editor.

The postwar work picked up and the school began expanding again. New full-time extensions were started in Boston, Ohio, Detroit, San Francisco and other locations. Of the volunteer extensions, a stout handful remained -- notably Hartford and Pittsburgh. San Diego started on a full-time basis, but entirely self-supporting. The New Jersey school founded in 1935, also became self-supporting. National annual conferences were held, with a different extension as host each year. The school and its branches started joining adult education councils. Numerous advanced courses were added to the curriculum. The Chicago school launched its Commerce and Industry program, and teaching experimentations were carried on in practically all extensions.

The first postwar surge seemed to reach its height in 1949. Then the Korean war, 1950-51, put something of a crimp in the work, but not enough to cause another ebb-tide.

All branches of the school, however, did have to work extra hard to attract students. A weird sort of "prosperity" -- with threats of atomic war and depression hanging over it -- left lots of people who formerly would have been students, with no time, energy or inclination to study economic and social problems.

Then there was the era of McCarthyism, overlapping the Korean war. I doubt whether this manifestation really hurt the school though we had our share of telephone accusations, demands to discontinue sending notices of classes, etc.

On the international Georgist scene, there were conferences sponsored by the International Union for Land Value Taxation and Free Trade -- in 1949 at Swanwick, England; in 1952 at Odense, Denmark; and in 1955 at St. Andrews, Scotland -- each succeeding one attended by an increasing number of school delegates.

Besides the schools already going in England, Denmark and Australia, new Henry George Schools were started after the war in New Zealand, Spain and Formosa. In 1955 a trip around the world was undertaken by Norman S. Casserley, on behalf of the school, which opened up possibilities for more expansion, particularly in Isreal and India.

The Correspondence Division also expanded its work internationally and translations in Spanish and French were made, with more in the offing.

In 1954, the school observed the 75th anniversary of Henry George's Progress and Poverty, The Robert Schalkenbach Foundation came out with a handsome new edition of that classic, the first new one since the 50th anniversary edition in 1929.

The school and the foundation collaborated on observances during the year which included presentation ceremonies and exhibits at The Cooper Union, the New York Public Library and the Library of Congress; the school's annual conference held in San Francisco, where Progress and Poverty was written; and a nation-wide lecture tour of the US. by Dr. Viggo Starcke, leader of the Danish Justice (Georgist) party.

Within the past couple of years, full-rime extensions have been formed in Oakland, California; Denver, Colorado; and Toronto, Canada; and volunteer extensions in Sacramento, California; Tampa, Florida; Edmonton, Canada; and Great Falls, Montana, where the director is mayor of the city.

This year, the Henry George School celebrates its own 25th anniversary (it is actually in its 26th year).

How far have we come, in relation to the school's long range goal? What does the future hold? What can we reasonably hope to accomplish? In the next and last article in this series, I will examine certain problems and prospects of the Henry George School of Social Science.


IV. Problems and Prospects

More than 75,000 people have completed the basic course in Fundamental Economics as offered by the school, in classes and by correspondence. (This includes Canada as well as the U.S.; also overseas correspondence students, but not counting classes in other countries.) We may double this figure to include those students who have completed some lessons (it could be up to six lessons in class, and nine lessons by correspondence), but who have not graduated.

What does this mean? For one thing, it means that the Henry George School turned the tide and rescued from oblivion the philosophy of Henry George. Not that it would have gone out like a light forever. Somebody would have fanned the flicker into a flame again, but it happened to have been Oscar Geiger. Because of his vision, I think we can feel confident that this won't happen again.

One thing the school's record does not mean is that we have 75,000 or 15O,OOO ardent recruits ready to whip into action if only somebody did something. This is often implied by friendly critics who give the school more credit than it is entitled to when they say, "Why don't you do something with your graduates? Why don't you give them something to do?"

This is supposing that our compact ten-lesson course has more magical powers than is actually the case. It does make converts, does create enthusiasm and does spread much good will toward the Georgist philosophy.

But it does not automatically turn each and every student into a fiery crusader. Nevertheless, as graduates go forth they are not lost to us. They can't help but carry the influence into their own life and work. We get plenty of evidence of this. It is like a little leaven that leaveneth the whole loaf -- and isn't this what we want, this penetration into society at large -- undirected and therefore more varied and effective than we could possibly plan?

Then, too, Georgists, as has oft been noted, are individualists. Outside of the school organization itself, they have never been able to weld into a cohesive actionist group. (I am just speaking of the U.S.) Even within the school there have been numerous alumni organizations, or attempts, which sooner or later have come to nothing. Among the now extinct groups, in or out of the school, that have issued the "clarion call" to graduates, were the Student Alumni Council, the Henry George Fellowship, the League for Freedom, the American Alliance to Advance Freedom, the Society of Free Men, Wealth, Inc, the Society for the Advancement of the George Economy, and I could name more.

I participated in every one of the above (except the Society of Free Men, which came about when I was in the army) and I am still puzzled.

In most cases there was capable leadership and a right good will on the part of the members. There was, of course, the usual reasons why any voluntary organization fails -- the rarity of responsibility, the difficulty of getting sustained help, the opportunists who lead it astray. But why didn't the law of averages yield at least one success in our case? Here is my diagnosis: There is nothing in a person's introduction to the Henry George philosophy, via the school, to prepare him for the discipline of organization. His school experience and his textbook Progress and Poverty, conspire to urge him to think things out for himself, to make up his own mind. The Georgist philosophy which would establish economic freedom uses intellectual freedom to get itself known. The graduates may think they want to "get together" but when they do, they find themselves making up their own individual minds about things. This a a good thing in itself -- but it is fatal for collective action.

But the individualist propensity of Georgists does accomplish the biggest, most important job of the Henry George movement -- the teaching. Whether he does it by class, by a lecture, a conversation, a letter -- the school man is a teacher.

Another question that frequently comes up is whether Progress and Poverty should continue to be used as our textbook; and a related question, or criticism, is that our students are not sufficiently broad in their outlook. To take the latter first here again, our friendly critic doesn't realize he is flattering us -- for he wants our student, Mr. Anybody, to go through our ten-lesson course and come out an expert economist, logician, prophet, politician, martyr all-round good fellow. While we can't always deliver the goods, I will say this -- that there is a high rate of motivation among our students to keep learning, to expand their horizons. And this brings us to the other -- for I believe that the use of Progress and Poverty is largely responsible for this motivation. The charge of narrowness was iustified, I think, in the case of many pre-school aficionados, and one reason for their narrowness is that they were not conversant with Progress and Poverty. They had picked up a phrase here and there and reduced the whole thing to a pat formula with which they could go around slugging people. Progress and Poverty is a liberal education in itself as some of the world's ablest scholars will testify. A careful study of it does not narrow the mind but broadens it. It is still the school's best resource. Nothing better has yet come along. Until it does, we had better remember what happened to the movement once before, when Progress and Poverty was given up.

The problem of doing our educational job more effectively remains. Here we get many criticisms -- and these I cannot answer as confidently as the above criticisms, for I can only agree -- we should do a better job. With the desire to tell nothing less than the whole world our message, we are doomed to everlasting neurotic discontent until we achieve that goal.

To our sincere critics I can only say this: An organization by its very nature must be conservative. If the school sometimes seems to be in a rut, it is in the rut that we think will lead it forward. New ideas can and should be tried by those who have faith in them -- if they succeed, well, it's a case of the better mouse-trap. But the school cannot very well throw open its entire resources to an untried new idea, or go off on a new tangent without serious repercussions. Do not, however, stop presenting new ideas, and do not get discouraged if something isn't done right away. Give it time. Lots of things that are now standard practice in the school were once far-fetched ideas -- like our contributing membership plan, the translation of our courses into other languages, the holding of annual national conferences, etc.

The Henry George School was founded for a purpose. I wrote a book about the founding and called it A Seed Was Sown. That's it -- the school is a growth. This may seem animistic, but I sometimes fed that the school has an almost organic sentience. It seems to know what elements to absorb for its growth, and what elements to reject. Sooner or later the things that would make the school other than what was implicit in its seed, get spewed forth.

And now for the final and biggest question of all: What prospect is there for achieving the basic economic teachings of Henry George? It would be rash to try to answer that one in this article. But it is not rash to say that the school is making progress toward that ultimate goal. Who, where when, what, how --we don't know. But you and I know that it will be a reality some day.