My first job in New York was as a secretary to a vice president of The Diners’ Club located in the Empire State Building. His name was Jules Ash and he was a total jerk. I stayed there a year. About then I announced I was getting married.

The back story is that a long-lost step daughter of Jay’s, thinking, however, that she was his biological daughter, had found him. He was delighted and arranged a party to introduce her to friends. At that party she met her future husband, Bruce. Bruce had recently been divorced and his ex-wife married Jules Ash, and they were still in the honeymoon phase when I went to work for him, not knowing any of this. But marital happiness didn’t affect his basic meanness, and anal retentive business style. I thought that when the romance wound down, he might get even worse. So I left.

I then got a job at Marschalk & Pratt, a division of the big ad agency of McCann-Erickson, I stayed there a couple of years. Ad life was so shallow, I could hardly breathe. My boss was the media director. We were at a departmental luncheon at a fine restaurant and I was sitting next to him drinking a kir. He was an AA. I asked him if it bothered him to be around when people were drinking (I, apparently, had no censors) and he said, not really, just what I was doing, which was nursing my drink. That bothered him.

The day after Eisenhower was elected President, I showed up and got on the elevator with an executive, name forgotten. He was elated. He grabbed me by the shoulders and enthused “We Won!!” And I said, “I voted for Stevenson.” Whatever possessed him to think that a secretary would be a Republican? Oh, gah.

Finally, I got a job with a management consultant, being his only amanuensis for all of his office needs and consulting materials that I produced and shipped to conferences he ran. Hi name was Dick and it suited him. I stayed in that job many years and only because he was always traveling and I saw him maybe once a month or less. He had a habit of picking up marginal females in bars in various cities (he was short, stocky, and full of swagger) and giving them the office number. They would call and think I was deliberately lying when I said he was not there. He told one that I could show her New York. Another was going through a divorce, and Dick had said I could find her a lawyer. Not likely.

Other than being on my own in a nice office, the best part about that job was meeting Edie (Edith Whitfield Seashore). She became a major player in behavioral science. We were buds for a while, but then she left to work in Washington with the National Training Laboratories. She had an illustrious career. I learned when I Googled her recently that she had died in early 2013 just after a memorial service for her husband. I imagine going on without him was something she couldn’t bear. What a loss. She was truly special.

Dick did well working with academics. They didn’t really like him, but he was very successful and got them consulting jobs with his clients that were very lucrative. I met all the major figures of behavioral science – the ones that stand out were Warren Bennis, Robert Blake, Gordon Lippitt, Leland Bradford, Jan Clee, Matt Miles, Douglas McGregor. Bennis was a hottie and he is still active - University Professor and Distinguished Professor of Business Administration and Founding Chairman of The Leadership Institute at the University of Southern California. He sent me a nice note when I left the Dick.

During the time I worked for Dick, I was taking ballet. Sometimes I would sneak in a class during the day and then work late to finish stuff. One day Dick said he was thinking of saving money, and closing the Manhattan office (it was an apartment in the 22 House, connected to the Plaza Hotel and maintained by Plaza staff). His plan was to operate out of his house in Mount Vernon, N.Y. (From our place to Penn Station, ½ hour if the subway ran smoothly -- then another hour on the train – basically, fuggedabat it.)

To convince me I should stay with him for this change, he took Jay and me to dinner. We were sitting in Chris Cella’s steak house, dawdling over dessert, and Dick, ignoring me, was outlining to Jay how this would work. At last, Dick remembered I was there, turned towards me and asked, “Well, Harriet, what do you think?” And I smiled, bemused by all this talk about my future without my input, and said, “I want to be a musical comedy star.” And Dick thought I was joking. My Broadway aspirations were not to be, but not too long after that, I got a job with a literary agent and left Dick to his devices. I called Edie, who, by then, was working for the National Training Laboratories in Washington, and said, “I quit!” She was thrilled for me.

Dot’s all for now.

Xx, Teal