Universities can be strange places where politics, institutions and pop culture can collide. In 1989, I was a graduate student at Temple University and also served in Temple’s Student Government (TSG). At that time, the university was in an awkward position with the city of Philadelphia. Temple University was suing Philadelphia, stating it was losing 6 million dollars per year through Temple University Hospital’s paying for the medical treatment of the indigent of North Philadelphia. On October 23, 1989, President Peter J. Liacouras held a press conference, outlining the University’s stance against what had been an ongoing problem since the 1977 closure of the old Philadelphia General Hospital.  Since then, Temple University Hospital had had to carry the costs of many poor North Philadelphians who had little to no health insurance to pay for the care they received.  So, after 12 years of this, on that Monday in 1989, President Liacouras basically said, “No, this isn’t going to continue to happen”.  He reported that Temple University was mounting its legal suit against the city of Philadelphia for not providing its share of funding to support the hospital. The press conference was held in Sullivan Hall and a number of television networks were invited to cover it, including ABC which was represented by reporter, Karen Friedman. President Liacouras gave a half-hour presentation to assembled press, staff and students. I was there in the back of the audience, along with fellow TSGer, Chris Walsh.  Liacouras outlined the cost to the university, where at least 5% of the patients treated at Temple had no health insurance. He said that it was fouling the university budget, and that Temple could no longer afford to pay for it. The losses that Temple hospital, and the university were being forced to take on would no longer remain unaddressed. The city would have to step in!

After this half hour presentation, Liacouras opened the floor to questions. Though I was in the back, I had a direct unobstructed view of Liacouras, as he had of me, even though there was about a 20-foot distance between us. Unexpectedly, the glance we shared turned awkward.  Chris, who was standing beside me when the President offered up the room for questions, whispered ever-so-quietly into my ear, mentioning comedian Bill Cosby who had been on the Temple Board of Trustees since 1982 and spoken at Temple Commencements.  So, Chris says coyly to me, “Ask the President if Bill Cosby ever attends Temple Board of Trustees meetings and asks financial questions in Fat Albert’s voice”? To understand how simultaneously plausible and ridiculous this suggestion was, one would have to remember and be familiar with Cosby’s voices from the animated cartoon in the 70s and 80s.  If anybody remembers Bill Cosby from “Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids”, it was certainly a funny juxtaposition.  I was taken completely off guard by the humor, and my face must have shown it, because I turned back toward Liacouras, about to burst into laughter, which would have really confused the entirety of attendees at the press conference. Liacouras locked his eyes on mine, and his expression was shooting daggers. His sharp glare translated, as, “Don’t you dare spoil this moment or the seriousness of this thing. If you do, I’ll, I’ll have you on the rack (or something like that).”  Marshaling all my effort, I stifled the laugh. But it was a comedic moment and it’s a moment that I’ve reminded Chris of at times throughout our friendship. But, maybe, as we say in bar stories, you had to be there!

It’s funny how things that you do earlier in life can come back as odd things in your life later. So I was a freshman in high school.  It was Fall, 1977 at Cheltenham high School in Wyncote, PA.  A bygone era, it was before either computers in classrooms or school shootings. One of the freshman experiences I had was a new class in industrial arts. The instructor, Mr. Theodore Kratzke, explained that the first semester we would be doing wood-working and the second semester would revolve around metal working. The first day of class, Kratzke introduced our goals for the course, focusing on the first semester of wood-working.  He concluded his introduction, saying, “Let’s raise our hands, and present some of your ideas for wood projects we might want to do in this first semester?  Think of anything you might make that could be used around your house, anything that might be of use to you?”. So, a number of the freshmen students raised their hands, and said, “Oh, how about a bird house?”-And Kratzke says,” That sounds like a good idea”. And then another student offers,” How about a cabinet?” “Okay,” said Kratzke, “another great idea”. I stuck my hand up, and Mr. Kratzke acknowledged me, ” Okay, Rickles, what do you want to make?” I said, “Well, how about a wooden pickle.”  And the entire class broke into laughter.  After the laughter died down, Kratzke said, “What!?” And I repeated in a shaky voice, “a wooden pickle”. He said, “Well, what the heck do you want to do that for?” I said, “Well, you know, it might look nice, sort of a decorative piece”. And he says, Rickles, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. But I’m not letting you out of my sight.” True to his word, he didn’t. He stayed with me, and we did work on a couple of projects, including a cassette tape cabinet. So, every time I came in there for the rest of the semester.  He gave me special attention to make sure that it was coming out correctly and safely.  Kratzke really didn’t trust me after that wooden pickle suggestion. (I think he assumed that my mind worked differently than all the other freshmen.)

As I stated, it’s interesting because in recounting the experience years later it led to a further outcome.  During my second visit to Israel (1982), I briefly attended Ohr Somayach yeshiva in Jerusalem. The circumstances of my time there and my departure are summarized in my book, “Catching Lameds: Reflections on an Unconventional Life”. As reported there, I wound up leaving Ohr Somayach on less-than ideal grounds. I had stopped attending classes, and therefore the yeshiva administration didn’t feel there was any reason for me to continue there. I had two weeks in Israel before I could get a flight back to the United States, and I had to figure out what to do with myself. Where was I going to stay? What was I going to do? So, I went to Aish HaTorah, which is another yeshiva in Jerusalem, and they allowed me to attend classes and stay in the dorms with the students. I took my meals there. And anyway, I can remember one day, just a few days before my return flight to the US was scheduled, I had been sitting on a hillside, possibly near the Mount of Olives. I recounted to a few of the students sitting with me on the hillside, my freshman introduction to woodworking and my suggestion to Kratzke of a wooden pickle. They certainly laughed. A few days later, shortly before my flight to the U.S., three or four of them approached me and presented me with—yes—, a wooden pickle!!- which I saved for many, many years. It was a simple wood rendering, and may have been made from sanded down, or shaved, balsa wood.  Anyway, all I can say is that I was touched by this gift, it’s thoughtfulness, and the fact that they felt there was enough fun in the story that they wanted to present me with the wooden pickle I had never gotten to create in class.  It was really great. I stuck it in my pocket and it was with me when I returned to United States.  Yes, wooden pickles can share sentimental value!-and be fun!