University of Virginia Library

IX
Providing Recreation and Relief

Though war is inherently a sordid and selfish thing, it often
serves to bring to the surface noble and generous impulses which
may lie latent and untouched by less dramatic or spectacular events.
During the Second World War this proved true with many people
in Charlottesville and Albemarle County. Though they were living
under greater pressures upon their time, energy, and money than
ever before, their hearts went out sympathetically and their pocket-books
were opened generously to other victims of the war whose
lives were more seriously dislocated than their own. Their resultant
services and charitable contributions can be divided into two fairly
distinct types. One of these pertained chiefly to the fighters of the
war—men who were uprooted from their homes, often lonesome,
bored, and friendless. It took the form of giving them a cordial
welcome whenever they were in the community, of affording them
homelike comforts and atmosphere, and of making available to them
wholesome and diverting kinds of entertainment. These functions
became in time chiefly the responsibility of the local U. S. O. Club,
a community-operated facility which emerged gradually in response
to local initiative and continued in cooperation with an international
organization. The other type of local war charity responded especially
to the needs of civilians who had been oppressed by the war
both at home and abroad. It found expression through many relief
agencies. In several particulars the activities of the American Red
Cross straddle this line of demarcation, and the wartime services
of the Albemarle County Chapter of the Red Cross are recounted
elsewhere in this volume.

Recreation

The United Service Organizations, Inc., was an interdenominational
union of six social service agencies, the Young Men's Christian
Association, the Young Women's Christian Association, the Salvation
Army, the National Travelers Aid Association, the National
Catholic Community Service, and the National Jewish Welfare
Board. Since they were all interested in meeting needs of the men

and women of the United States armed forces which could best be
filled by agencies other than the Federal government, they created the
U. S. O. in February, 1941, as a means of coordinating their efforts.[1]

One of the widely publicized services of the U. S. O. was its provision
of groups of touring entertainers for the enjoyment of servicemen
and servicewomen wherever throughout the world they found
opportunities to relax awhile. At least two men and one young
woman from Charlottesville were contributing to the success of
U. S. O. Camp Shows in the European Theater of Operations as
the war approached its end. Richard Via, son of the Reverend and
Mrs. Bernard S. Via, toured France, Belgium, Holland, and Germany
for eight months as a member of the company of the play
“Junior Miss.” Edgar Mason, a native of Charlottesville who had
gone into the worlds of the stage and radio, arrived in Paris in 1945
with the “Kiss and Tell” company. Each of these men was cited
for his services to the U. S. O. program overseas.[2] Miss Marjorie
Mitchell of Charlottesville, an accomplished pianist, was another
artist who entertained servicemen under auspices of the U. S. O.
During the winter of 1944–1945 she made long visits to military
stations in Alaska and the Aleutian Islands. Later she began an
extended tour of the European continent with a U. S. O. Camp
Show unit.[3]

Residents of Charlottesville and Albemarle County were not able
to participate directly in the work of the U. S. O. until long after
the United States entered the war. Only one of the six constituent
U. S. O. agencies, the Salvation Army, was operating a local unit at
that time, and the absence of any large cantonment of uniformed
personnel in the vicinity meant that no U. S. O. Club was required.
A national campaign for gifts to the U. S. O. in the autumn of 1941
had not been locally a howling success; a “concerted drive” for funds
throughout a week had produced only $413.50 in cash from the city
and county, which had been assigned a quota of $3,400, but there
had been a lingering hope that several large contributions would
transform these disappointing receipts into a respectable sum in four
figures.[4] Probably many people of the community first became really
acquainted with the U. S. O. in the spring of 1942 when it launched
a War Fund campaign having greater popular appeal. Governor
Colgate W. Darden, Jr., the honorary chairman of the drive for
Virginia, and John Stewart Bryan of Richmond, state chairman,
spoke to local solicitors. State Senator John S. Battle of Charlottesville
was one of Virginia's regional chairmen. Fred L. Watson
served as chairman for the city, and W. A. Rinehart headed the
county organization. In support of this appeal The Daily Progress
printed information about the nature and program of the U. S. O.[5]

But already something akin to the U. S. O.'s interest in the welfare
of servicemen had begun to emerge in the community, and eventually

it developed through an easy transition into an official U. S.
O. Club. Under the leadership of Miss Nan Crow, chairman of the
Recreation Committee of the local Civilian Defense Council, entertainment
was afforded to transient servicemen and to local selectees
who were awaiting induction into the armed forces. Soon after
Pearl Harbor this committee, consisting of sixteen interested volunteers
in addition to its chairman, announced that Christmas cards
had been mailed to 158 draftees who could not return to their homes
for the holidays and reported that each departing selectee was to receive
an individual gift.[6] Charlottesville's City Council, apparently
in appreciative response to this start, promptly appropriated $25
to supplement the committee's initial funds from other sources.[7]
By mid-summer of 1942 Miss Crow could report that a few hundred
dollars had been spent for the entertainment of troops travelling
in convoy, that meal tickets had been distributed to them, that
cots and mattresses had been collected in the New Armory for their
overnight use, that they had attended two dances, and that the possibility
of establishing a recreation and lounging room for transient
men in uniform had been discussed. Moreover, the temporary needs of
of local selectees, who might be at loose ends while awaiting induction,
had not been overlooked. In February and again in May,
1942, large groups of selectees were dinner guests of local civic clubs.[8]
The Charlottesville Presbyterian Church offered facilities in its Annex
building at the corner of First and Market Streets for an afternoon
recreation room for selectees. Staffed by volunteer hostesses,
under the supervision of Miss Crow, this resort became a kind of
miniature U. S. O. lounge. To 7,000 white and Negro men who
had time on their hands it made available during the last six months
of 1942 magazines, newspapers, postal cards, soft drinks, cigarettes,
candy, and popsicles.[9]

During the last weeks of the summer and through part of the
autumn of 1942 a revival of the armed forces' policy of granting
two weeks of immediate leave to every new inductee made possible
a renewal and enlargement of the shortlived plan for dinners in
honor of departing servicemen which had been begun earlier in the
year. The Recreation Committee of the Civilian Defense Council
made arrangements for meals, several of which were held in the
First Methodist Church of Charlottesville, the civic clubs took turns
providing dinner programs, and these evenings were made complete
when the groups attended movies at the Paramount Theatre. Two
such parties were planned each month, about two weeks apart, for
each of the two races, white and Negro. The first dinner for Negro
inductees was served in their First Baptist Church; eight selectees,
three soldiers who were at home on furlough, and nine other persons
enjoyed fried chicken and other delicacies before the usual movie that
evening. When it was found that gasoline rationing and other

transportation difficulties prevented many selectees in the county from
accepting these invitations, they received instead farewell gift packages
at the time of their departure. Some other complimentary services
rendered by the Recreation Committee before changing conditions
caused a discontinuance of this program included the gift of a free
newspaper subscription for three months to seventy-two draftees.
Student officers of the School of Military Government at the University
of Virginia were also entertained upon at least four occasions
during 1942–1943.[10]

At just about the same time that it became impracticable to fête
on such a grand scale servicemen who were leaving the community,
opportunities began to present themselves for the entertainment of
other servicemen who were visitors to Charlottesville and Albemarle
County. Ships of the British Navy which had met the enemy on
the high seas and had not emerged unscathed from these encounters
sometimes docked at Hampton Roads, Virginia, for repairs. Their battle-weary
sailors were often under these circumstances granted leaves
of a week or longer. Direct railroad service between their temporary
ports and Charlottesville meant that these British “tars” could practicably
travel inland to pass some of their time of waiting and to
seek a refreshing change in the foothills of the Blue Ridge. Homes
in both the county and the city were opened to them and to small
contingents of sailors of other nations throughout two and one-half
years or longer. Local arrangements for this gesture of international
good will were directed successively by the Recreation Committee
of the Civilian Defense Council and by the U. S. O.

The first two British sailors who made such visits to Charlottesville
arrived early in October, 1942. They were billeted in the New
Armory and enjoyed themselves so much that they later wrote enthusiastic
expressions of appreciation.[11] The third, a young veteran
of seven years in the Royal Navy who had not been home for three
years, remarked that the “country around Charlottesville reminds me
very much of England.” Being here, he said, was “next to visiting
England. And the people here,” he asserted gratefully, “are the very
soul of hospitality.”[12] The society page of The Daily Progress listed
one day in November, 1942, the names of twenty-one other British
sailors and of their hosts and hostesses in eleven private homes of the
city and of the county. Most of these visited Monticello and Ash
Lawn, enjoyed a square dance, and were given movie tickets and
bowling passes.[13] Some two weeks later the local newspaper published
a feature story based upon an interview with three Royal Navy
guests who told harrowing tales of bombings and sinkings at sea.
They all promised to return if they got another furlough within
travelling distance of the community and assured the reporter that
their shipmates had told them before they had left their ships, “If
you want a grand leave, go to Charlottesville.”[14] More than twenty

of the British sailors spent the Christmas season of 1942 in the
homes of city and county residents, were entertained two evenings by
Christ Episcopal Church, and enjoyed other special parties. Plans
for some of their shipmates who had been expected to arrive in
time for New Year's Day were cancelled by a telegram from their
port.[15] The chaplain of the damaged vessel to which many of these
sailors were attached wrote, in part, “I have been tremendously
touched by the wonderful welcome you have given our boys. I
wish you could hear something of the enthusiasm with which they
describe what they have seen and done during their leave. As you
have discovered,” he explained, “many of our boys have not had
leave for around two years and this fact has heightened their appreciation
at being made to feel so much at home again.” The kindness
of local hosts, he continued, “has done a great deal more than
give your guests a good time. The insight gained in such a way can
alone produce a really genuine understanding between our two
peoples. As a friend and admirer of the United States I have felt
pleased that you have allowed our sailors to get a fairer perspective
of American life than would otherwise have been possible.”[16]

These British seamen were not the only visitors to Charlottesville
who mailed complimentary letters when they had returned to eastern
ports. An enlisted man of the United States Navy who spent a
week-end in Charlottesville proclaimed it the finest of many leaves
which he and another serviceman had enjoyed during the eight
months in which they had been stationed at Norfolk, Virginia, far
from their homes. “We found your people to be very friendly and
courteous,” he wrote. “We were comfortably quartered in a hotel
and ate excellent meals at about two-thirds the price that we have been
used to paying.” An employee of the hotel made a particularly favor
able impression. “When a hotel clerk says 'God bless you' as you leave
the hotel, we have the feeling that humanity is still pretty good after
all.” The grateful sailor thought Charlottesville “charming enough
in itself even if the University weren't there.” With a candor characteristic
of servicemen rather than because of any desire to make invidious
comparisons, he concluded, “It is refreshing to be able to
visit a city like Charlottesville which is so different from what we experience
daily here. I think we both appreciated the Sunday quiet
and noticed the absence of hubbub. Your quaint old buildings are
inspiring and your churches are particularly beautiful. We like
your city and do not hesitate to say so. We will go on record as
champions of Virginia in contrast to so many service men who judge
the state unfairly, having seen only the Hampton Roads area.”[17]

A full year elapsed after Pearl Harbor before the U. S. O.
name and insignia could be correctly used in connection with local
recreational facilities or activities for servicemen. The last issue of
The Daily Progress published in 1942 announced a cooperative new

service for military and civilian transients at the Union Station in
Charlottesville. Appended inconspicuously to this article was a
report that plans for a servicemen's lounge were under consideration
and that the U. S. O. had granted permission to use the U. S.
O. insignia in developing it. It was explained, however, that no
U. S. O. funds were then available to Charlottesville and that all
financial requirements would consequently have to be raised locally.[18]
Two weeks later it was revealed that the Old Armory, which served
as the city's Recreation Center, was to undergo extensive renovations
by way of making it an attractive and comfortable place of entertainment
for servicemen. The City Council promptly appropriated
$1,200 for this purpose, and The Daily Progress editorially approved
this outlay.[19]

The opening of the redecorated Old Armory in its new capacity
on Saturday, February 20, 1943, was a gala occasion dignified by the
presence of city officials and their wives. Aside from the attraction
of an opportunity to inspect its facilities, the evening included a
dance to which 300 Naval Flight Preparatory School cadets at the
University and more than 200 young women of the community had
been especially invited. Upholstered chairs, bookcases, rugs, and
other furnishings had been donated by numerous individuals. Serving
as interior decorator, Miss Eleanor Hosey had stressed bright,
masculine colors, predominantly blues and reds, and members of
the Albemarle Art League had loaned some of their paintings to
decorate the walls. In its new role of service the building afforded
a comfortably furnished main reading and lounging room, a snack
room in which tea could be served, and a pretty, spacious dance hall.
All residents of the community who missed the first festive evening
in the newly refurnished quarters were specially invited to see them
during eight “open house” hours of the following afternoon and
evening. Indeed, Miss Nan Crow, who had been the chief leader in
creating this new facility for recreation and in securing the blessings of
the U. S. O. upon it, announced that it was not intended exclusively
for servicemen and extended a welcome to civilians also. This was
natural, considering her dual interest in uniformed personnel as
chairman of the Recreation Committee of the local Civilian Defense
Council and in civilians as director of the Recreation Department of
the city government. And in view of the fact that the U. S. O. had
loaned its name but not yet invested any of its funds, the dual
character of the revamped building's new community services was
entirely proper.[20]

Soon after the excitement of the opening dance Miss Crow announced
a program of regular U. S. O. activities which had been
agreed upon by the group of a dozen or more community leaders
who had served as an advisory committee or policy-making board of
directors. Women of various churches served in rotation as senior

hostesses in the building, which was open every morning, afternoon,
and evening except Sunday mornings. Junior hostesses assisted them
at especially busy times such as Saturday and Sunday afternoons.
The chief feature of the program was a dance every Saturday night.
These dances were directed and chaperoned by various men's and
women's clubs in turn. Men of the Army School of Meteorology
at the University of Virginia were the only servicemen invited to
the second dance, February 27, 1943, but thereafter all dances were
open to all men in uniform. Parents were given assurance that their
daughters who served as junior hostesses and dancing partners could
do so only under the protective proprieties stipulated nationally by
U. S. O. policy—for example, they were not to leave the building
unless they were chaperoned. Transportation to their homes was
provided by the clubs which supervised each dance, a detail for which
the local War Price and Rationing Board specifically condoned the
use of privately owned automobiles, the current ban on “pleasure
driving” to the contrary notwithstanding.[21]

As the community Recreation Center the Old Armory continued,
however, to maintain all of its regular civilian entertainment program.
And in May and June, 1943, for example, after its facade
had been repainted in white and blue colors in accordance with a
design conceived by Frederick C. Disque, it played host contemporaneously
and in rapid succession to the annual spring exhibit of the
Albemarle Art League, a special exhibit of water colors, a dramatic
production and dance for Greek relief, hillbilly dance open to the
general public, and a dance for employees of Frank Ix and Sons,
Inc., in celebration of their first Army-Navy “E” award.[22]

A widening understanding of the value of the U. S. O. program
is indicated by the fact that in June, 1943, the Albemarle County
Board of Supervisors appropriated $50 to the organization as a gift.[23]
Financial support of a more regular kind and formal affiliation with
the national U. S. O. were gained at the end of the summer. Allotments
in the annual U. S. O. budget and a definite status as a community-operated
U. S. O. Club meant twin advantages for the organization
and program which had been growing and changing as local
needs developed during the first twenty months of American participation
in the war.

During these twenty months 1,432 packages had been given to
local servicemen. Hosts had been found for a hundred British sailors
and additional other visitors on leave. Free movie tickets had
been issued to 508 transient and other servicemen, meal tickets to
246, and bowling tickets to 100. Sightseeing trips had been arranged
for more than 100 men, and 415 servicemen travelling through
the city in six military convoys had been entertained. During the
six months since the Old Armory had been transformed into a

U. S. O. Club 3,281 servicemen had attended its dances, and Sunday
afternoon recreation had been provided for 1,057.

Though the Recreation Department of the city government yielded
to the cooperating U. S. O. Club many of its services to the men of
the armed forces, it continued to maintain two of them. Reports in
Miss Crow's office reveal that by January, 1946, a complimentary
three months subscription to the local newspaper had been given to
1,128 white and 223 Negro servicemen as they left the city and the
county. Each unit of local government financed this gift to its own
personnel. The number of free meal tickets had mounted to 1,162,
and 1,300 free movie tickets had been distributed.

In the reorganization which accompanied the transition into direct
affiliation with the U. S. O., Louis Chauvenet became chairman of
the local board of directors. He was supported by subordinate officers,
including Mrs. M. C. Stewart, secretary, and Fred L. Watson,
treasurer, and by committees for the supervision of various divisions
of the U. S. O. program.[24] In November, 1943, a U. S. O. official
came to Charlottesville to make a formal presentation of an official
flag of the organization.[25] Though she had in a sense relinquished
the reins to other hands, however, Miss Crow's continuing interest
and help are attested by the fact that she attended a conference of
U. S. O. personnel in Richmond, Virginia, in the spring of 1944
and brought back recommendations for an expanded program. And
in its behalf she spoke to local audiences.[26]

In November, 1944, Mrs. Robert V. Funsten succeeded Chauvenet
as the head of the U. S. O. policy-making body, which was again
reorganized, and Miss Louise O. Beall assumed the duties of executive
secretary and treasurer, becoming in a different way as much the central
figure in later days as Miss Crow had been in earlier ones.[27] About
a year later Captain Floyd Terry of the local Salvation Army succeeded
Mrs. Funsten as chairman.[28] Closer ties with the national
U. S. O. did not mean the elimination of local financial support.
Collections and sales of waste paper and other salvageable materials
by city trucks had brought into the treasury of the U. S. O. Club
and its predecessor recreation agencies a total of $1,898.26 by December,
1943, and the public was urged to continue its cooperation
in the city's salvage efforts as an indirect means of giving more money
to the U. S. O.[29]

By 1944 marked increases were noted in the number of transient
servicemen who availed themselves of the club's facilities. Beds, showers,
and washbasins had been installed to increase its usefulness.
Within a few months the number of overnight guests leaped from
approximately 90 to about 250 per month, and some statistician
began to record such details as how many of them shaved in the
building. The Saturday night dances usually attracted a hundred or
more men and about half as many junior hostesses, and square dances

were added to the club's program. More than 200 junior hostesses
had been qualified: more than sixty senior hostesses and other volunteers
were actively engaged in the work. Thirteen of the junior
hostesses were presented the U. S. O. award of a pin and identification
card at a formal dance in June, 1944, in recognition of fifty or more
hours of service which they had given to the club.[30]

Full recompense for all the effort involved in successful management
of an effective program was found in the form of appreciation
frequently expressed by those for whom the recreation was planned.
For example, two Seabees from northern states who were stationed
at Camp Peary near Williamsburg, Virginia, wrote, “The way we
were treated by everyone in Charlottesville, particularly the lady on
duty at the U. S. O. at 8 P. M., Saturday evening, did a whole lot
to restore our faith in what we had read about the South and its people.
Your U. S. O. stands way over those in other cities in Virginia
we have visited, and your U. S. O. dance on Saturday night was
real enjoyment to a couple of lonesome and homesick 'Seabees.' ”[31]

Superimposed upon the U. S. O.'s regular entertainment program
were various special demands to which it invariably responded. One
of these was its continuation of the policy of welcoming to the community
men of the navies of allies of the United States. In this
service the U. S. O. had the cooperation of the Recreation Department
of Charlottesville's city government and of many people of
the city and of the county. The groups of British sailors who had
begun in October, 1942, to spend in the community their week or
thereabouts of leave from ships which were under repair continued
to flow into the city during the first several weeks of 1943 while the
Old Armory was undergoing its transformation into a U. S. O.
Club. In this period of the throes of the inauguration of the U. S. O.
in Charlottesville the Recreation Department was finding temporary
homes for about fourteen new men of the Royal Navy who arrived
every third day.[32] The society page of The Daily Progress announced
one afternoon in January, 1943, the names of twenty-six
English sailors who had come from Norfolk, Virginia, to be during
the past week honored guests in fourteen homes of the city and of
the county.[33] The next month's visitors included five British sailors
who came from a vessel docked in the Philadelphia Navy Yard.[34]
Again in the fall and winter of 1944–45 householders of the community
were asked to open their homes to English “tars” who were
expected to arrive daily in groups of eight for placement in pairs in
private homes. Characteristic of the Britishers were their liking for
tea brewed very strong, their “attractive accents,” and their preference
in American music for “Bing [Crosby] to Frankie [Sinatra].”
One of them referred to the U. S. O. as “The Ask and Ye Shall
Receive.” All were grateful for the U. S. O.'s share in promoting

Anglo-American good will, but they were usually “more anxious
for quiet home life than for parties and entertainment.”[35]

One local hostess, Mrs. Roy Howard of Simeon, was so pleased
over her experience in entertaining two of the Englishmen that she
was inspired to broadcast her reactions to it through the medium
of a signed letter to the editor of The Daily Progress. “The U. S. O.
in Charlottesville had asked for homes to be opened for British seamen
and we were in doubt whether to take any or not,” she confessed,
“since we are busy farmers. We were anxious to help and
had been told they were little trouble so we took two on short leave.
We were so pleased with them that we telephoned for more. We
were sent two seamen that had been in a hospital and were given
several days leave. They were so much pleasure to us that we hated
to see the time come for them to leave. They told us so much of
their homes in the British Isles and of different countries they had
seen. One of the boys gained so much weight and his color improved
so [much] that he hardly looked like the same person. It
was gratifying to know that for our small trouble we had really
helped our allies. The boys did not require any waiting on and
were so helpful in every way, in fact they were a pleasure and not a
bother. Our kind neighbors were so anxious to help and offered
their eggs, cream, and anything that we did not have enough of ...
Try taking some of these boys,” she advised all who might read
her letter, enumerating three reasons for such hospitality, “the U. S.
O. will appreciate it, the boys will enjoy it, and you will be more
than thankful you could help.”[36] Mrs. Howard's assertion that she
had asked the U. S. O. to send her more of the British sailors is
substantiated by the fact that she was among fourteen hostesses who
responded overnight to a new appeal issued by the U. S. O. a couple
of months later.[37]

Nor were Britishers the only nationality which found that furloughs
in and near Charlottesville could be pleasant. Upon at least
two occasions French sailors were entertained in the community.
Through the U. S. O. arrangements for a visit in Charlottesville
were made for one pair of them who evidently thought local hospitality
was famous enough to justify their writing to the city's
mayor a request that they be invited into the home of “a family
who would receive us for a few days.” In their imperfect English
they closed their wistful appeal, “If possible we like somebody who
speak French.”[38] To another pair, who were spending their leave
in an unidentified home at Greenwood, the language barrier seems
to have been less of a handicap. Indeed, when they were interviewed
at lunch with a Charlottesville girl, their compliments for all they
observed hereabouts were quite as fluent as they were flattering. “It
is a very nice country,” they asserted, “pretty much the same as

southern France. And the girls, they are very pretty. Thanks to
them, we are having a very good time. In fact, we like all Americans,
because of their ideologies. After our ship is repaired, we will
sail again to fight the Japs and the Germans. Vive L'Amerique!
Vive La France!”[39]

Various groups of servicemen and servicewomen of the United
States were occasionally special guests of the local U. S. O. Club.
Approximately a hundred convalescent soldiers from the Woodrow
Wilson General Hospital near Staunton, Virginia, were invited by the
U. S. O. one Saturday evening to see a production of the Gay Nineties
melodrama, “Ten Nights in a Bar Room,” and to enjoy its usual
dance. The University of Virginia cooperated by giving them complimentary
tickets to an intercollegiate football game at Scott Stadium
that afternoon.[40] When a smaller group of convalescents from the
Army hospital at Camp Pickett near Blackstone, Virginia, arrived
for a sightseeing tour, the U. S. O. added afternoon tea to the picnic
lunch which had been served to them at Monticello by the local Red
Cross.[41] More than fifty young ladies who came from an Army
office in Washington, D. C., for a week-end of sightseeing were
special guests at the Saturday night dance of that week, and upon
another occasion the local U. S. O. arranged a Sunday tour of local
points of interest for thirty-six Navy women from the nation's capital.[42]
The one contingent of nearby service personnel, soldiers whose
duty was confining and prevented their being entertained as a group,
was not overlooked. Since they could not come to it, the club took
at least a part of the U. S. O. to the guards of the German prisoner
of war camp at White Hall by donating to them a radio, porch furniture,
reading matter, and other comforts. In cooperation with the
local Red Cross and other agencies the U. S. O. Club saw to it that
they had a homelike Christmas complete with decorations, lights
for their tree, and a gift for each guard.[43] When the end of the war
came, the U. S. O. was meeting still another need by serving as an
information bureau through which service personnel and some civilians
who were in the city for sightseeing or for other reasons could
be directed to what had by then become one of the scarcest things
in town, a room for rent.[44]

On May 20, 1945, twelve days after the surrender of Germany,
the U. S. O. sponsored the first of numerous memorial services in
honor of the war dead of Charlottesville and Albemarle County who
would not return from their varying duties in the Second World
War. Practically all white and Negro organizations, clubs, and
groups of every kind were represented in this tribute, and citizens
from every section of the community also attended the ceremony,
which was held in the auditorium of Lane High School. All participated
in appropriate exercises and saw the names of 110 servicemen

and servicewomen then known to have died emblazoned on a
large gold star before the flags of the United Nations.[45]

During several months after firing ceased on distant battlefronts
use of the local U. S. O. facilities continued at a high level, but in
the spring of 1946 there was observed a great decrease in the number
of servicemen who availed themselves of its services. The end of
its role was obviously approaching. As it retreated from the center
of the stage toward the wings, it made two final bows. Early in
February, 1946, it entertained the general public and honored some
of the volunteers who had contributed to its success by giving a
Sunday afternoon birthday party in celebration of the fifth anniversary
of the organization of the national U. S. O.[46] The final
Saturday evening dance was held on May 25, 1946, and constituted
a well attended and fitting public finale to three and one-half years
of service since local use of the U. S. O. name and insignia had been
authorized. In a ceremony which preceded the dance Miss Louise
O. Beall, who had been throughout approximately half of this period
the mainstay of the organization, was presented with a corsage from
the junior hostesses and a bracelet from the senior hostesses in
appreciation of her leadership. Service pins were awarded to eight
junior hostesses, fourteen senior hostesses, and six men who had
contributed to the success of the organization many volunteer hours
of willing work. Among these men were Captain Floyd Terry, the
club's last chairman, and William Jackson, who had been its counsellor
and committee chairman from the beginning in all matters
relating to Negro servicemen.[47] Mrs. Robert V. Funsten and Mr.
and Mrs. James F. Minor had previously received pins in recognition
of the more than 500 hours of service which each had donated.[48]
Those present at the final dance also heard a reading of a letter of
praise and appreciation which had been received from Captain S. H.
Hurt, commanding officer of the Navy V-12 unit of students at the
University of Virginia, writing in behalf of servicemen who had
regularly enjoyed the dances and other features of the U. S. O. program.
Referring to the “unselfish efforts” of the volunteers who
had constantly welcomed the men of his command, Captain Hurt's
letter concluded. “Now that these services no longer are required, I
wish to say thank you and to add the Navy's traditional phrase,
'Well done.' ”[49]

Following this swan song dance, the club remained open for the
accommodation of a few transients during the next two and one-half
weeks. On June 15, 1946, it was closed, and five days later
its board of directors assembled for their final session.[50] The building
reverted to the use of the Recreation Department of the city government.

An incomplete but indicative conception of the extent of the local

U. S. O. Club's services can be gained by pondering the meaning of
the following eloquent statistics covering October 1, 1943-April 30,
1946. It had played host to a recorded total of 10,832 transient
servicemen, of whom 2,624 had been overnight guests and 3,845
had been accommodated for showers and shaves. Approximately
1,000 had been taken on sightseeing trips, and rental accommodations
had been found for 275 or more. Servicemen who attended
dances and parties had numbered 19,508. The dances had been
planned and supervised by as many as 395 persons, and dancers had
been entertained by a total of 311 junior hostesses, who had served
21,092 recorded hours. There had been 655 senior hostesses and
other volunteers whose reported hours of service totaled 12,350.
And, within this period of less than 1,000 days, a total of 39,788
servicemen, volunteer workers, and visitors had entered the building
and had found the cheer and relaxation which had become synonymous
throughout the world with the magical initials U. S. O.[51]

Relief

Bundles for Britain was the first war relief organization to strike
a responsive chord in the hearts of the people of Charlottesville and
Albemarle County after the German “blitzkrieg” against France and
near-capture of the British army at Dunkirk. The agency had been
founded in the United States in December, 1939, for the purpose of
sending necessities and comforts to the people of the embattled islands
which soon were so near to—and yet so far from—the western limit
of Nazi conquest. About the first of July, 1940, when it was beginning
to become clear that in the near future the Germans could leap
the English Channel only in the comparatively small numbers permitted
by aerial transportation, the Charlottesville Branch of Bundles
for Britain was organized to bolster British morale against the
destructive air raids which were to follow the debacle in France.

Mrs. Paul White came from the central office in New York City
to assist in the organization of Bundles for Britain's local branch.
She was welcomed by a group of women of the city and county in
the home of Miss Ruth Risher (Mrs. John W. Wheeler-Bennett)
on Oakhurst Circle in Charlottesville. A Britisher born and bred,
Mrs. Arthur Frank Macconochie of Farmington, was their undisputed
choice to serve as president of the local branch. Other officers
elected included Mrs. William H. White, Jr., vice president: Miss
Risher, secretary; Mrs. Edwin P. Lehman, corresponding secretary;
and Harry Frazier, Jr., treasurer. These selections remained unchanged
throughout all or most of the war: Miss Risher retained
her position even while serving with the American Red Cross in the
Middle East.[52]

The basic and most constant service of the enthusiastic women of
the Charlottesville Branch was the knitting of warm woolen clothing

for use across the Atlantic. Its members set up shop in the J. D.
and J. S. Tilman department store. There knitting needles, wool,
and knitting bags were distributed, and articles bearing the British
coat of arms were sold. After about a year they moved their headquarters
into a Corner shop which had been secured rent free. Sweaters,
socks, sea boots, scarves, and headgear were produced by as many
as several hundred women at an average rate of about twenty-five
per week throughout the war years. Some of these garments were
given directly to British sailors when they visited in the community
while their vessels were undergoing repairs. In a letter of thanks to
Charlottesville and Albemarle workers of Bundles for Britain one
of these men of the Royal Navy expressed his appreciation not only
for the organization's gift but also for the attitude of local residents
toward the visiting Englishmen. “The thing that has touched us
... who are so far away from our homes is the great kindness and
friendliness shown to us ...; and when we get back to England you
can rest assured that we [will] take back an excellent report of the
American people.”[53] Other locally knitted garments furnished emergency
relief to British civilians who had been bombed out of their
homes. The greater part of them, however, helped to clothe with
comfortable accessories the men of Great Britain's armed forces scattered
over widespread battlefronts, especially those stationed in cold
and frigid areas.

Supplementing daily work on the production of clothing for the
British, the Charlottesville Branch of Bundles for Britain occasionally
found opportunities to raise substantial sums of money for other
specific needs of the English. A benefit reception was held at the
Farmington Country Club on August 2, 1940, in honor of the
movie star Madeleine Carroll, a native of England who was then in
the community for the filming of the technicolor motion picture
“Virginia.” Among other Britishers present were Lady Russell,
author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden, and John W. WheelerBennett,
thorough student of the modern world. Through this
reception the fledgling local Bundles for Britain group raised about
$700. To meet what was then England's most crying need, this
sum was devoted to the purchase of surgical instruments and medical
supplies.

In the summer of 1940 the British-American Ambulance Corps,
working through the national Bundles for Britain organization,
began to solicit gifts for the purchase in the United States of sorely
needed ambulances, which cost approximately $1,350 each. Mrs.
William Hall Goodwin became chairman of the local ambulance
drive and was photographed, together with other Bundles for Britain
leaders, on East Main Street while standing in front of a specially
labelled automobile used in the promotion of donations for this

appealing cause.[54] Before the end of the war the local group had
collected enough money for the shipment to England of four of
these vehicles of mercy.

Pummeled with destructive explosives from the air, Great Britain
was also in urgent need of mobile canteens during the second half of
the year 1940. These kitchens on wheels were used to carry hot food
to stricken people in bombed cities. One of Albemarle County's most
famous twentieth century daughters, Nancy Langhorne of “Mirador”
near Greenwood, who had crossed the Atlantic to become Lady
Astor and a member of the British Parliament, transmitted through
her niece, Mrs. Ronald Tree of “Mirador,” and Mrs. Chiswell
Perkins a request that several mobile canteens be supplied by gifts
from her native community. In support of this appeal Mrs. Macconochie
delivered a stirring address over the local radio station,
WCHV, on September 9, 1940. She reminded her listeners, “We
... can lay our heads on our pillows at night secure in the knowledge
that our roofs will still be over us when we awake,” and confidently
expressed her conviction “that we want to continue to help
the valiant people in Britain over whom the wrath of modern warfare
has burst in all its fury.” Referring to the “direct request”
from England for rolling kitchens, she pledged that “all future donations
to Bundles for Britain” received by the Charlottesville Branch
would be allocated to the mobile kitchen fund “until we have
reached our goal.” The people of the community forthwith provided
adequate funds to make possible prompt shipment of five of
these canteens.

In a special dispatch to the Charlottesville Daily Progress a British
novelist, Elspeth Huxley, who had been a prewar visitor in the
city, traced the result of another handshake across the sea. “It's a
long way from Charlottesville, Virginia, to Malmesbury, Wiltshire,
England,” she wrote, “yet there's a link connecting the two. Some
time back the Charlottesville chapter of Bundles for Britain made
a very handsome gesture. They sent over the money to buy a mobile
tea kitchen to serve lonely outposts of British soldiers and airmen.
In due course the tea kitchen was built and equipped and became
Mobile Tea Kitchen No. 833, attached to the Y. M. C. A.'s fleet.
And it was put on the road in the Malmesbury area of Wiltshire
where I live. So I've seen it on duty, and now I've been privileged
to drive it on its rounds. ...”[55]

A variety of special events followed the Madeleine Carroll reception
on the local Bundles for Britain calendar. John W. WheelerBennett
described “The Battle of Britain” to an impressed audience
in Cabell Hall at the University of Virginia. His observations of
the aerial peril to which England was exposed were of the graphic
sort which only a recently returned eyewitness could have been capable

of revealing. A Christmas Fair was held at the Farmington
Country Club to raise money. The Keswick Hunt Club gave a benefit
horse show at “Beau Val.” And in June, 1941, an auction of
prized possessions donated by generous friends of the cause was held
at Farmington. Antique furniture, boxwood, and thoroughbred
puppies were among the items which went on the auction block and
produced a revenue of about $750. But there was also offered an
exciting royal antique of a more surprising kind. The “Chips About
Charlottesville” column of the local newspaper enthused over a detailed
description of a genuine Irish linen undergarment—a chemise
or slip—which had belonged to Queen Victoria and on which one
could see the imperial crown done in fine red stitches. “We have
heard of movie stars being mobbed by fans” and losing parts of their
clothing, the awed columnist commented, “but think of being able
to boast that you own the Queen's slip.”[56]

When Lord Halifax, England's ambassador to the United States,
and Lady Halifax visited “Mirador” in 1941, Mrs. Macconochie
pinned a Bundles for Britain button on him. It was then revealed
that several young English refugees, including a niece and a nephew
of Queen Elizabeth, had been evacuated to “Mirador” and had
resided there for some time.[57]

An announcement made by the Charlottesville Branch of Bundles
for Britain at the end of its first year reported that the people of the
community had contributed to it a total of $15,587.80. In addition
to previously mentioned gifts which had been sent across the
Atlantic, this sum had helped to provide three large payments to the
Queen's Hospital for Children in London, two lots of new blankets,
two consignments of new clothes, and twenty air raid shelter cots.[58]
Among many grateful letters of acknowledgment from England
came one which was especially pleasing. On July 2, 1941, Mrs.
Winston Churchill wrote from 10 Downing Street to Mrs. Macconochie:
“I have been told that the Chapter of [Bundles for Britain
in] Charlottesville, Virginia, of which you are President, has
sent a substantial sum of money to the Queen's Hospital for Children,
and as Honorary Sponsor for Bundles for Britain, I write to
tell you how much we over here appreciate this and all your organization
is doing. We thank you for your generosity and for your
thought and care for our people.”

After Pearl Harbor many Americans felt that efforts previously
directed toward aid for England should be diverted to services for
the armed forces of the United States. Indeed, a local unit of the
new Bundles for America organization was established in Charlottesville
with Mrs. Edward Gamble as president, assisted by Mrs. Robert
Kent Gooch. Sharing the quarters of Bundles for Britain, it dispensed
wool for the knitting of garments for American servicemen.

But Bundles for America did not supersede Bundles for Britain.
Though she observed a decline in the number of her knitters, Mrs.
Macconochie and her cohorts continued to maintain an active group
until July, 1945.[59] By then victory had been won in Europe, and
there were no longer such desperate needs in the battered but unbowed
British Isles.

In the period before American entry into the war there had also
been in Charlottesville another British war relief organization independent
of Bundles for Britain. Its original and special concern was
Queen Charlotte's Hospital in London. This hospital had been
founded long ago by the Queen Charlotte for whom the small and
centrally located eighteenth century town in Albemarle County, Virginia,
was named. Some years before Hitler launched the German
armies on their fateful rampage this institution had given a benefit
ball with a colonial Charlottesville decor inspired by sketches which
Mrs. James Keith Symmers of Charlottesville had drawn and sent to
London for the occasion. When the hospital began to suffer German
bomb damage, Mrs. Symmers received an appeal for aid. She enlisted
the interest of others and soon had built a small but effective
organization. Judge A. D. Dabney served as its president, Bernard
P. Chamberlain as vice president, and Dr. W. D. Haden as treasurer.
State Senator John S. Battle, University President John Lloyd
Newcomb, and other prominent citizens were members of its board
or gave it their support. The chief achievement of this group was
the raising of a substantial sum promptly donated to the hospital.
One of its beds was thereby endowed and was named Charlottesville.
Such transitory impulses of generosity are easily forgotten, and so
events proved in this instance. Almost a year after England had
last been bombed Mayor Roscoe S. Adams of Charlottesville received
a letter of gratitude from a mother whose “bonny baby” had
recently been born in Queen Charlotte's Hospital. As “one of the
many mothers who have occupied the Charlottesville bed,” she
wanted to thank him “or whoever is responsible for the upkeep of
the bed.” His Honor the mayor and a local newspaper columnist
could not recall or ascertain who should receive the appreciative
mother's thanks.[60]

Evidently spurred by its initial success, the group which had endowed
the hospital bed was transformed during the autumn of 1941
into an agency for more general British war relief. Jesse B. Wilson
became president, and other officers retained their positions. Articles
procured from British War Relief headquarters in New York City
were sold for Britons' benefit, first in the O. E. and C. L. Hawkins
store downtown and then in the building which later became the
University Cafeteria. Admittedly, the proceeds of the operation of
this shop did not rival the income of the local branch of Bundles

for Britain, but this relief work was supplemented by the mailing
of garden seeds and children's toys to hungry and tired victims of
Nazi destruction in England. In good time the members of this
group pooled their efforts with those of the Charlottesville Branch
of Bundles for Britain in connection with a clothing collection campaign
and willingly lost their separate identity.[61]

Early in the war, at the time of the Italian invasion of Greece,
efforts were made in the United States through the Greek War Relief
Association in New York City to alleviate suffering in that nation
before the total occupation by German and Italian troops could be
completed and all ports of entry closed. In this campaign the local
organization was headed by Gus Gianakos as president. William
Pappas was vice president and Nicholas Velle treasurer. The sum of
$3,900 was raised. After a drive for the collection of used clothing
in 1944 the American-Greek people of Charlottesville shipped a ton
of usable garments.[62]

Nor did residents of the locality overlook the distress of the downtrodden
Chinese, who had been fighting against a ruthless invader
in an almost hopeless warfare longer than any of the world's embattled
peoples. Upon request of United China Relief, Inc., the gift
of $2,000 was asked of the community in 1942. The Business and
Professional Women's Club, of which Mrs. Elizabeth Beard was
then president, accepted the responsibility of equalling or excelling
this amount. Almost as soon as the club made it known that money
was needed for this cause, checks poured in without special solicitation,
and the quota was promptly oversubscribed by ten per cent.
Wendell Willkie, honorary president of United China Relief, congratulated
the club by telegram upon its immediate success. Mrs.
Beard also received an Award of Recognition issued by the democratic
administration in China in appreciation of the community's
assistance to its hard-pressed republican faction. Signed by Mayling
Soong Chiang (Madame Chiang Kai Shek), this certificate of gratitude
was brought in 1943 to the United States in person by the
wife of China's chief executive.

There were uncounted numbers of organized and individual efforts
to send clothing and food to various destinations where normal
living had been disrupted by the iron hand of war. In the spring
of 1944, for example, local Parent-Teacher Associations collected
in the New Armory discarded garments donated in the “Share Your
Clothes With Russia” campaign. Though the Anglo-American second
front assault against northern Europe had not at that time been
initiated and the Soviets had borne the chief brunt of the costly task
of reversing Germany's early successes, a day or two before the close
of this drive receipts were described as being “very light.” The
Charlottesville Ministerial Association endorsed six months later a

clothing collection in the city's churches for refugees who had been
freed from the Nazi yoke. The appeal this time had emanated from
the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. That
new agency was also to distribute the 3,000 cans of vegetables and
fruits from the city and the county which were requested at the
height of the vegetable garden season in 1945. The Charlottesville
and Scottsville Canning Centers cooperated in preparing this contribution
to foreign relief.[63]

The interdenominational group of white and Negro women in
the Charlottesville branch of the United Council of Church Women
did much after V-J Day to help families overseas whose destitute
condition, which was then revealed for the first time in something
approaching representatively stark perspective, shocked the world.
News that many small babies utterly lacked proper clothing gave
rise to a drive by American church women to ship a million diapers
across the oceans. The women of Charlottesville sent 2,347 of them.
Within the year 1946, in a room assigned to them in Christ Episcopal
Church, these women also gathered 2,740 pounds of clothing,
counted up 2,115 pounds of tinned foods, assembled more than
thirty kits each of which contained two dozen articles of clothing
for small children, and collected $772.80 for the purchase of food
in bulk. Mrs. W. Roy Mason was the leader in this work.

Whenever and wherever the status of international mail delivery
would permit the sending of individual packages to relatives or
friends abroad, people in the locality would dispatch carefully selected
and painstakingly wrapped parcels. About two years after
firing ceased in Europe at least five packages were sent by unknown
donors to a total stranger in vanquished Germany. Mrs. Margarete
Meissner of Hessen had written to Charlottesville asking for any special
gifts available. Her appeal was broadcast with excellent results.
The story of her success in making charity prevail over enmity was
deemed worthy of publication in a local newspaper column. Her acknowledgment
read: “My English is not sufficient to express my and
my five little ones' thanks for your wonderful parcels containing so
many delicious things! We should have desired you could have
seen our joy. May God bless you!”[64]

A more personal and rewarding method of trying to counterbalance
the deprivations of war in Europe was discovered by some local
people. Through an international social service organization they
assumed financial responsibilities for French and Belgian children
who had been orphaned and were being brought up in institutional
homes across the Atlantic. Episcopalian women of Greenwood and
Crozet thus adopted a three-year old Belgian boy, contributing $15
per month for his support and showering him with presents. Four
named women of the city and county took war orphans under their

individual wings. The foster parent of a ten year old French girl
was pleased to receive letters from her protege. By way of explaining
why she had undertaken something which might easily be a burden
as well as a joy, this citizen of Charlottesville said, “I feel we
all ought to open our hearts to the world's suffering in some way,
and I hit upon this method.”[65] And a good one it was, at that.

In another and somewhat different type of charitable war relief
Charlottesville provided Virginia's leadership in a nationwide effort.
The American Library Association, the American Red Cross, and the
United Service Organizations, Inc., launched on January 12, 1942,
a Victory Book Campaign to supplement the government's already
existing library facilities for servicemen. Army camps, Navy bases,
ships sailing the seven seas, U. S. O. clubs, and other places where
men in uniform congregated were in need, it was estimated, of
10,000,000 books to provide their personnel with adequate reading
matter of both technical and recreational sorts. Miss Mary Louise
Dinwiddie, assistant librarian of the Alderman Library of the University
of Virginia, served as director of the campaign in Virginia
during the first war year. Within two weeks after Pearl Harbor,
in advance of the opening of the drive, she had begun to make her
plans. Under her leadership a total of 36,956 volumes were collected
and forwarded through proper channels to servicemen, who
were ever hungry for something to read. Almost ten per cent of
these—3,169 books—were gathered at the Alderman Library alone.[66]

The Alderman Library also served the nation in an unpublicized
capacity which remained highly secret until enemy air raids were no
longer feared and which has not even yet been broadcast in full and
rich detail among the “now it can be told” stories of the war. In
panicky days of shock which followed Pearl Harbor irreplaceable
treasures of the Library of Congress were evacuated under the watchful
eyes of formidable guard details to five locations which were
thought to be safer from the possibility of enemy attack. More than
two and one half years later, when they were brought back to the District
of Columbia, the Librarian of Congress found himself fairly
bursting to break the news of a secret which a hundred or more
Charlottesville and University people had helped him to keep. So
eager was he to put on record his appreciation for indispensable cooperation
that he introduced the whole subject into his Annual Report
for the past fiscal year, which had not at the time gone to press,
rather than let it await its proper place in the Annual Report which
he should write later for the fiscal year then current. His account
of this evacuation omits mention of the multiple conferences, telephone
calls, and letters between members of his staff, on the one hand,
and Librarian Harry Clemons, University President John Lloyd
Newcomb, and other University officials, on the other. Nor did he

Miss Dinwiddie and an assistant sort Victory Book Campaign
volumes in the Alderman Library.

in a formal report indulge in what might have been colorful descriptions
of the vicissitudes of travel between Washington, D. C., and
Charlottesville, the midnight arrivals of guarded trucks which were
almost furtively unloaded before dawn at the library, and the special
provisions and adjustments which were made locally to permit the
storage of unopened packing cases, to accommodate workmen when
they needed to catch a few winks of sleep in the library building, or
to arrange scores of incidentals—some of them as humorous as they
were covert—which developed in the course of a very friendly and
mutually pleasing cooperation. Nor does he reveal that the enormous
manuscript collections entrusted to the University for dead storage
were supplemented by the working collection of millions of cards
which constitute the Union Catalog of the Library of Congress,
the most valuable single research tool in the nation, which, together
with its staff, was moved to new quarters in the Alderman Library
and continued to grow more priceless throughout the period of its
evacuation. But what the Librarian of Congress did say within
the restrictions of his formality reveals by implication something of
the atmosphere which surrounded all stages of this wartime removal
and which permeated the thinking of local people who were “in the
know” about the University's role as protector of an incalculable
portion of the nation's recorded heritage. What he wrote on this
subject is of sufficient local interest to warrant republication:

“The most important single fact about the recent history of the
collections of the Library of Congress is a fact which belongs properly
in the Annual Report to be written a year from now. Our
principal holdings, evacuated to five depositories in the interior of
the continent immediately after Pearl Harbor, were returned to Washington
in August and September of 1944, two to three months after
the landing on the Normandy coast. To wait for a year to signalize
this event would sacrifice historical interest to the dictatorship of the
calendar. Furthermore, those responsible for the transportation over
the Blue Ridge and over the Alleghanies of 4,789 cases of books and
manuscripts valued in uncountable millions of dollars should not be
obliged to wait until spring of the year 1946 to read in the official
report of the Librarian that their work was well done.

“The Keeper of the Collections, Alvin W. Kremer, his assistant,
Richard M. LaRoche, and their colleagues on the staff of the Library
and on its guard force, carried throughout this period a responsibility
as heavy, at least insofar as posterity is concerned, as that carried by
military and governmental officials in any field. It may well be
debated, now that the materials have been safely returned, whether
or not they should ever have been sent. As to that, it can only be
said that any man can be wise in retrospect and that problems of
this character have a very different look to those responsible and to

those not responsible for their solution. In any case, the original
move was made on the advice of the military authorities and with
the counsel of a committee of the responsible custodial officers of the
United States Government appointed for the 'Conservation of Cultural
Resources' belonging to the Government. The materials were
held at depositories approved by the military authorities, and it was
not until an opinion of the Joint Chiefs of Staff had been obtained
that the return to Washington of our greatest treasures was finally
ordered.

“The Library of Congress, and through the Library the people of
the United States, are lastingly indebted to the institutions which
freely and generously offered the use of storage space, which they
could have employed to advantage themselves, for the safeguarding
of our evacuated materials. During the period of evacuation reference
to the names and locations of these depositories was forbidden
under the code of voluntary censorship and by military regulation.
It is now possible to announce that they were: the University of
Virginia at Charlottesville, which permitted us to use valuable and
highly protected space in its Alderman Library, including the Treasure
Room of that Library, its Law Library and its School of Engineering;
Washington and Lee University at Lexington, which permitted
us to use not only stack areas, but rooms as well in its McCormick
Library; Virginia Military Institute, also at Lexington,
which provided large areas in its Preston Library; Denison University
at Granville, Ohio, which made available space in its Library,
in its Science and Life Building, and in its Chapel; and the United
States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox, where the Constitution of
the United States, the Declaration of Independence, the Magna Carta,
the Gutenberg Bible, the Articles of Confederation, the manuscripts
of the Gettysburg Address and the manuscript of Lincoln's Second
Inaugural were guarded day and night throughout the entire period
of their absence from Washington.

“No mere acknowledgment of indebtedness, and no mere words
of gratitude, can begin to express our sense of obligation to the officers
of these various institutions and to the librarians and custodians
in immediate charge of the occupied space. Their patient and uncomplaining
acceptance of the inevitable annoyances resulting from
the presence of our 24-hour guards in their buildings and our piled
up cases in their halls and stacks, speaks eloquently of their generosity,
their devotion, and—for no other word is wholly expressive—their
patriotism.' ”[67]

Prompted by the multiplicity of wartime appeals for foreign relief
and the wartime necessity of the most efficient possible type of
organization and operation in all local welfare work, the community
achieved midway through the struggle a unification of the formerly

numerous requests for charitable contributions. The Charlottesville
and Albemarle Community and War Fund was organized in the
summer of 1943. In its single annual solicitation for about a dozen
local health and welfare agencies and for the local share of all nationally
approved war relief services, as opposed to a score or more of
separate annual money raising campaigns, there was implicit an
obvious economy of time, energy, and money. Moreover, programs
of the local social service offices could be more closely coordinated,
and a broader understanding of community integration
evolved. And, in respect to the War Fund division of the new
organization, the uneven results of sporadic peaks of enthusiasm
and of special temporary efforts in behalf of one wartime charity or
another were eliminated by a carefully considered national apportionment
of all War Fund receipts among the U. S. O. and many
foreign relief organizations.[68]

In a Virginia War Fund meeting in Richmond on June 8, 1943,
State Senator John S. Battle, Dr. W. D. Haden, and Jack Rinehart
represented Charlottesville.[69] The War Fund was allotted $32,800
of the $73,685 goal of the first local Community and War Fund
campaign, which was oversubscribed by $6,164 in the autumn of
1943. Approximately $32,500 was given to the War Fund in each
of the next three years, which saw successive objectives of $73,369,
$80,369, and $76,375 exceeded by an average of about twenty-five
per cent.[70]

When these generous annual contributions are added to the many
indeterminable dollars which the people of Charlottesville and Albemarle
County had already donated to an incalculable number of
war relief projects of every possible nature and scope, one can be
pardoned for surprise that they did not themselves become objects
of the charity of others. An inherent humanitarianism, readily
touched by the plight of the world's unfortunates, seems to be the
only satisfactory explanation for purse strings loosened so freely in
an era of unprecedentedly high taxes and despite other inescapable
financial pressures.