Jack Schwartzman:
A Life in Service to Liberty
Edward J. Dodson
[January, 2002]
In 1980 I began my association and involvement with what we lovingly
refer to as the "Georgist Movement," completing the program
that year on George's works at the Philadelphia extension ("the
birthplace') of the Henry George School. Not long thereafter, George
Collins invited me to become a member of the volunteer faculty. Not
long thereafter I made my first visit to the School's headquarters at
5 East 44th Street in New York City to attend my first Georgist
conference. Among the long-time Georgists I met was this remarkable
and stimulating character named Jack Schwartzman.
What I began to learn from Georgists such as Jack was that the Henry
George School was in something of a state of decline. I learned that
funding had been taken away in the early 1970's when the Lincoln
Foundation decided the School's adult education program was not
accomplishing much, that Bob Clancy had been discharged as director
even before Lincoln pulled its financial support and that the School
had subsequently closed down nearly all of its extension and affiliate
programs. In subsequent private conversations with Jack over the next
few years, he did not withhold his contempt for the persons he held
responsible for the decline of the School and, in particular, the
treatment Bob Clancy received from the persons who controlled the
school at the time. A decade later, those wounds were just beginning
to heal.
In the interim years, Bob and others formed the Henry George
Institute, offering correspondence courses in George's political
economy for students all around the globe. The School had just moved
into the headquarters at 5 East 44th Street and had invited the
Institute to move its operation into the building. From this point on,
many of the programs I attended in New York City were held by the
Institute. Jack, looking more and more like a robust Einstein, was
ever-present and a frequent presenter.
In 1982 I came up with a not particularly original idea for an
Institute program. I compiled from their own writings a dialogue on "the
land question" between eight or ten historic figures, including,
of course, Henry George. Jack honored me by participating in the
reading (although I do not recall which of the roles he played). My
own Georgist involvement was now complete; and, as one of the youngest
in age, was constantly invited to take on more of a leadership role.
In 1984 I was elected to the boards of the Institute and of the
School. My trips to New York City became more frequent but my time
there was absorbed by matters affecting the School. As a consequence,
the time I was able to spend with Bob Clancy sadly diminished. Jack
was only infrequently at the School on the days I showed up for board
meetings, so I saw him less often as well. Still, we remained good
friends and cemented our friendship each year at the annual
conferences. In 1985 I delivered a paper on "Proudhon, Tolstoy
and George" at an Institute symposium, and Jack had a number of
nice things to say on my treatment of these three great thinkers.
One of my hopes when joining the board of the School was to work to
expand the School's program, to somehow return the School to its
former leadership role within the Georgist movement. And so, in 1986,
when Paul Nix informed me he wanted to step down as President and put
my name in nomination, I agreed. Jack, Bob Clancy and others were
encouraging but did not hold out much hope that the vision I had for
the school would get very far with other board members.
The School's financial situation had improved considerably since
arriving at 5 East 44th Street; however, the location did not prove to
be good for attracting students; so, there were few classes being
held. Faced with this sitution, Stan Rubenstein concentrated his
efforts on development of materials that could be used by high school
teachers teaching history or economics. During 1986 we made a decision
to relocate to a more desirable part of Manhattan and began looking
for a building that would be more promising from the standpoint of
attracting students. Eventually, a building at 121 East 30th Street
was selected and purchased. A Japanese firm paid the School around $5
million for the existing building, which allowed us to make moderate
renovations in the new building and add funds to the School's asset
base. And, then, surprising many people, students began to enroll in
larger and larger numbers. The classrooms began to fill up every
semester. Stan still wanted to concentrate on the high school program
(which was also taking off nicely), so the board invited George
Collins up from Philadelphia to become overall director of the School,
with Stan taking on a subordinate role as director of the high school
program.
Somewhere along the road, Jack and I had a falling out. We never
really talked about it. It just lasted for a couple of years. The
source of the tension was clear to me. When I first joined the board
of the School, I was hopeful of bringing Jack (and, possibly, Bob
Clancy) on as trustees. Bob was not really interested; his energies
were focused on the Institute and Council of Georgist Organizations.
Moreover, some of the trustees still on the board had been there at
the time of his removal. He expressed sincere hope that the School was
back on a path of growth but was not interested in any role with
School. Over the next few years as openings on the board became
available, Jack's name would be brought forward (usually by Oscar
Johannsen) but he could never secure the votes. In private
conversation, those who opposed his presence on the board thought he
would be disruptive and too argumentative, which is ironic given the
frequent heated exchanges that subsequently occurred during my years
on the board. Whether an expression of support from me would have
changed the way a few trustees voted or not, I cannot say. But, I must
admit that I remained silent. There were issues and proposals under
consideration I thought more crucial to the future of the School than
bringing Jack (or any particular person) onto the board. I guessed
that Jack was informed that I did not support his candidacy and that
his feelings for me turned less friendly. A second incident occurred
when Jack asked the School to reimburse him for expenses he incurred
delivering a paper on Henry George at an economics conference in
Canada. He had not asked the School for any support prior to the
event, and he was not speaking as a representative of the School; so,
the board voted down his request.
Jack and I would see each other at Institute events and at the annual
CGO conferences but scarcely spoke to one another. Finally, I decided
to write him a letter. I said, "You may think of me as a ..., and
maybe I am. But, from one ... to another, we need to bury the hatchet
and work together to do some good in this world" (or words to
that effect). He did not respond, but the next time we saw one another
he approached me and began a conversation just as though there had
never been a lapse in our friendship. And, so it continued from that
day on. Jack was eventually elected as a trustee of the School and was
neither disruptive or argumentative at the meetings. He remained after
I stepped down as President at the end of 1996 and resigned from the
board the following year.
Jack would periodically encourage me to submit something for
publication in Fragments, but I had entered that period of
life many of us experience when there just does not seem to be enough
time to do everything we would like to do. Finally, however, I wrote
an essay that appeared in the Summer of 2001 edition of Fragments.
I would have enjoyed knowing what Jack thought of the essay and
whether he and I agreed on its sentiments and essential points.
Wouldn't it be great if there is, in fact, an afterlife, and that Jack
is there now engaging in dialogue with Henry George, Henry David
Thoreau and others whose words and ideas he treasured as beacon lights
into a true age of reason.
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