BILL IDOL: SEEKER, STUDENT, TEACHER, SAGE AND FRIEND WHO MOVED TOGETHER WITH HIS STUDENTS FROM 1963-1968
Unless Indicated Otherwise, Written by Jim Perlman
As we all know, Bill Idol taught freshman English at The Francis Parker School (Parker) for five school years from the fall of 1963 through the spring of 1968. We will hear later from Bill about how, after Bill spent one year teaching at Von Steuben High School, he was hired by Dr. Cleveland A. Thomas (Gadge) to teach at Parker.
Bill’s hiring by Dr. Thomas coincided with a very challenging period for the school as Parker was in the last stages of transitioning from the old school to the new school. This transition, among other demands on Dr. Thomas, required almost doubling the faculty over the course of just two years.
During Bill’s years at Parker he taught roughly 275 students. In 2020 Bill was still teaching approximately 40 of us via a monthly newsletter. This despite the fact, as David Dunlap observed as he was graduating in 1969, nearly every student who graduates from Parker has the same feeling: “Boy, am I glad to get out of this place.”
The year after Bill left Parker, the class of 1969 invited him to return to give the commencement address. In 1985, Bill returned to Parker for the first All- Alumni weekend and, on Saturday of that weekend, he conducted a seminar for those who wished to attend. In 2010, forty-two years after Bill left Parker, the class of 1970 invited Bill to its reunion. Once again, Bill put on his teacher’s hat and conducted a seminar on some of the things he had learned since 1968. Nine years later Bill was invited to the class reunion for the class of 1969. And, while he was unable to attend, the class of 1971 invited Bill to its 50th reunion.
The thing about all teachers is while you are in school you have to be with this teacher for the duration of the class being taught. It could be great, horrible or anything in between but you had to be with this teacher. However, after the class ends no reason exists for you to want to keep any teacher in your life. And that’s how it nearly always turns out – even for the teachers you loved. But with Bill, when students were finished with his class, many student still wanted more of Bill – some even visited him at his home in Vermont.
The two central reasons why Bill has remained in so many of our lives are: 1) Bill is a restless, inquisitive seeker and 2) Bill also possesses the rare ability to distill what he’s learned into valuable lessons and creative teaching methods. As you will read, throughout this article, a great deal of which will be in Bill’s own contemporaneous words, Bill’s teaching methods were very “in the moment”, interactive, creative, dynamic and, quite frankly, sometimes off-the-wall (This is not to suggest that, at times, “off-the-wall” didn’t work.). Yes, we were expected to pay close attention to Bill. But, at the same time, Bill was paying close attention to us collectively and individually. This didn’t happen so much by conscious design. It is simply how Bill is built. The result, when it worked, was a virtuous cycle where the we learned from the teacher and the teacher learned from us.
Bill began this style of teaching the year before he came to Parker with his English students at Von Stueben High School. During one class, Bill was trying to convey to his students how easy it is for even a small group of people to manipulate public opinion and reality. Bill was using a passage from John F. Kennedy’s Profiles In Courage to illustrate this point. But his student’s weren’t buying what either Kennedy or Bill were selling. However, instead of trying to hammer the point into the heads of his students Bill decided to make a bet with his students that Bill hoped, but did not know for sure, would prove his and Kennedy’s point.
After just three days this bet resulted in proving Bill’s and Kennedy’s point and, eventually, the bet turned a pretty terrible song into not only a hit single in Chicago but a No. 8 Billboard Hot 1 00 hit single as well. Bill writes about Manipulating Perception Influences Results: How 90 Students Made A Terrible Song A Hit.
Perhaps, the best way to understand Bill’s approach to teaching is to look back at one of the last times Bill “taught” at Parker - his commencement address for the class of 1969.
We all know the drill for commencement addresses: Some “important” person, almost always a stranger, comes to the institution of learning and offers “sage advice” about how the graduating class should lead the next stages of their lives.
There’s usually a lot of rah-rah-rahs about contributing to society, or the world, that anything is possible, blah, blah, blah.
But, as you will read shortly, Bill had already accomplished much of this with his students in the class of 1969. So, no reason existed for him to fly in from Vermont to give a conventional commencement address. Instead, he flew in from Vermont to do what he always did: Bring us together and in the words of the title of his commencement address: “To Teach Once More”. And because David Dunlap, the editor of The Weekly, realized the importance of what Bill was going to “teach” David made both his own, and Bill’s, commencement addresses available as a special edition of The Weekly which could be picked up after the ceremony (I’ve kept my copy safely stored ever since.).
Bill started his address with reminiscences, many times humorous, of his time with the Class of 1969 (Including how one of the three English sections of the class of 1969 had to go “Old School Chicago” and bribe one of their classmates to reach the resolution of an assignment.). But once the reminiscing ended Bill segued into the “teaching once more”. Bill began with an excerpt from a Morning Ex he gave in September 1964, Bill’s second year at Parker:
You see, I have this dream about how you and I could be – and in it I am not Mr. Idol, the teacher, who is different in kind from Chris Rago, the student; I am not Mr. Idol, the teacher, who in your minds is a thing, an object to be impressed or tolerated or obeyed; I am not Mr. Idol, the teacher, whose job much of the time seems to be approving or disapproving... No, what I see in my dream is this: I see you knowing that I am a fallible human being just as you are...;
I see you knowing that what I really care about is you as a person, not some amount of material. I see you not set up in opposition to me in the sense that here I am with work for you to do and there you are figuring a way not to do it, but instead feeling that you and I are moving together somewhere; and I see a real understanding among all of us that I am you and you are me and we are both him or her.
These are some of the things that I dream; they are the perfection toward which I want to go with you. But let's be honest - we are not going to get there today or tomorrow... And yet - even though we can't in our time get all the way there - we can start, we can begin. (passage edited from the original) (emphasis added)
After the excerpt from the Morning Ex in 1964, Bill got down the topic that dominated the rest of his commencement address:
So, four and a half years ago and many, many times since I said to you, “Look how things could be if only...” What bothers me now is that I think the idea of process, the idea that we could begin moving toward a humane world, got lost in my emphasis and repetition. I am worried now that I seemed to say and did say – “Things ought to be this way now.”
Bill followed these remarks with a complete reevaluation, and clarification, of what he said and taught after the 1964 Morning Ex.
This reevaluation culminated in one of the most memorable examples of Bill’s wisdom and his ability to convey his wisdom to others. Personally, what Bill said hit me like a lightning bolt. The beauty this example of Bill’s wisdom, besides its truth as it pertains an individual’s inner life, is it also serves as a terrific framework for what happened in our country from 1963 to 1973:Passive acceptance of what is possible now is non-human existence. But to reach beyond our grasp, without awareness of our arm's length is perpetual failure, frustration, self-accusation. You are not passive acceptors – at least this does not appear to be an outstanding characteristic of your generation – but you do reach for what you yourselves probably will never grasp. Our great-grandchildren may in truth be the children of the flowers ... but it is not our role as agents in the process ... to be also the end results of that change.
And there is more at stake here than our psychological health. If we foolishly insist on being what we cannot, we endanger the possibilities for our children's children because, after enough failures, we will condemn our own vision as a lie in order to comfort our disintegrating egos. (Emphasis added)
This is what I came back tonight to tell you. You care very much about your society and its myriad failings, and I helped you to care.
What I forgot to tell you was to care about yourself as well. You have the absolute right to be who you are and at the same time know there are better ways to be; your obligation is not to be what you can imagine, but to help create surroundings that can allow what you conceive for those who come after us. (emphasis added)
The unfortunate reality, however, is so many of the believers, the idealists, ended-up condemning and giving up on their visions as a self-preservation mechanism, just as Bill feared. And to make matters worse many in our country piled-on by claiming the dreamers in the 60's failed when, in fact, these years contained resounding achievements and advancements. All one has to do is to look at what our country was like on November 22, 1963 and compare it with our country in January 1973.
It was during this span of ten years that the following happened:
- civil rights and voter rights legislation was passed;
- the women’s quest for equality had commenced to take root;
- America successfully put men on the moon within a time frame of nine years;
- in large measure due to the peace movement started by the young, the peace agreement for Vietnam had been signed;
- dramatic differences in most of the arts happened; and
- a host of other changes for the better materialized.
If one is a great life teacher, David Dunlap and I write about this below, the teacher is ahead of the curve. This is exactly what Bill was on June 11, 1969 when he said: “If we foolishly insist on being what we cannot, we endanger the possibilities for our children's children because, after enough failures, we will condemn our own vision as a lie in order to comfort our disintegrating egos”.
This is Bill’s singular genius: Over the course of his life he has come up with frameworks, tools in a toolbox, to make a person more skilled at living and understanding both one’s inner life and the external world in which we live. This is why the class of 1969 asked Bill to deliver a commencement address: The class wanted Bill to Teach Once More – not English but life.
Now, David Dunlap and I will dive deeper into the fluidity of Bill’s teaching methods from the fall of 1965 through the spring of 1967. The extent of this fluidity reached a new level during Bill’s fifth year at Parker when he created The Media Program (TMP). Following the sections by David and me, Bill will write about TMP and then share some of his thoughts about his years at Parker. Finally, after Bill’s two sections I will return with some concluding remarks.
David Dunlap - Freshman English Fall 1965- Spring 1966
Bill Idol readied me for the life ahead.
Much of my 50-year writing career has been spent trying to avoid “Slop” and “Glop.” These were the markup terms Bill used in his freshman English class of 1965-66. I did not want to see them on my homework or “Chunk Tests” (A test on the latest “Chunk” of material we had been studying.).
“Slop” meant my writing was sloppy, careless. “Glop” meant my writing was specious, erroneous, or pedantic. Or all three. Bullshit, in other words.
It was bad enough to fail an assignment. Worse yet was the possibility that Bill would make fun of me in front of my classmates. (Withering sarcasm was among his best-honed tools. I’m not sure how long he would have lasted in the Trigger Age (Trigger Age.)
More than anything, however, I did not want to betray Bill’s faith in me. Bill seemed to believe that the grasp of his students, if properly encouraged, could exceed their reach.
That sounds naïve. Bill was naïve; only 13 years older than most of us.
Many teachers at Parker were exceptionally accomplished. Comparatively, Bill was a novice but he was a novice savant.
Bill had to learn on the job, skipping along a high wire. “Ideas came up all the time,” he recalled. Bill persuaded the custodian Lee Simpson to install a theatrical lighting bar in his classroom. He obtained a record player, which he used to stir a warm debate among us over Barry McGuire’s corrosive Eve of Destruction and the Spokesmen’s treacly answer, The Dawn of Correction.
As for the curriculum, Bill often appeared to be making stuff up as he went along. This was true, even in Bill’s first year at Parker, as he writes about in the tale: Maurice & Win-Win.
His classes were unpredictable, entertaining, maddening, and compelling. Never boring.
David O’Neill (Sophomore English) pressed us to read widely. Mary Briault (Junior English) pressed us to write exactingly. Bill Idol — and, later, Marie Stone (Senior English) — pressed us to think critically.
The culmination of Bill’s English class, in our year, was a moot court based on Walter Van Tilburg Clark’s 1940 novel, The Ox-Bow Incident, about a posse that takes the law into its own hands and lynches three innocent men, believing them to be cattle rustlers and murderers.
We were to try three members of the posse stipulated by Bill. Each defendant had played a different role in the lynch mob, from drunken provocateur to ineffectual pacifist. Bill’s choice of defendants forced us to consider whether guilt is divided equally among everyone in a posse, or whether it can be apportioned by individuals’ motives and actions.
Bill chose the prosecution and defense teams from the class, with the rest serving as jurors or witnesses. “What I was really doing was turning it into a play,” Bill recalled, “and you were participants in it.”
Then he threw in a bombshell: If the lawyers or witnesses were clever enough to get away with it, they could lie in the courtroom, unbound by Clark’s narrative structure. Bill later said that this exercise showed “freshmen could cope successfully with the contradictions of confusing and conflicting testimony and with the complexities of group decision making.”
Perhaps. But an unintended message of the Ox-Bow trial was that facile delivery and bald-faced deceit can easily prevail over careful argument and scrupulous honesty; and that truth is whatever the majority says it is, no matter how misled the people may be. (Note by Jim Perlman, this is the other, darker side to Bill’s Von Steuben/Profiles in Courage story.)
Given where America stands today, it seems that Bill readied all of us for the life ahead.
Jim Perlman - Freshman English Fall 1966 - Spring 1967
With Bill the freshman English curriculum changed from year to year. As just one example take the moot court David Dunlap wrote about above. In 1964 the book used was Henry IV, Part 1. In 1965 the book used was Mutiny On The Bounty. As David writes, in 1966 the book used was The Ox Bow Incident which was also used in 1967 with my class.
As in previous years, the mid-term exam for my class was based on the trial of Sacco and Vanzetti. Bill recently told me the reason he kept coming back to Sacco and Vanzetti was “because it was a good example of the failure of a legal system to give the accused a fair trial and would make my students aware of the complexities involved...”
There was also an interesting twist for my class because at mid-term each student had to appear in Bill’s office and present an argument for the mid-term grade he or she should receive. There was a lesson to be learned from this process: You could successfully argue for a higher grade than the grade Bill was thinking about giving you. But, if you made the mistake of arguing for a grade lower than Bill had in his mind, Bill obliged and gave you the grade you asked for. As a teacher, Bill was great at both gentle, nurturing love and tough love. Both of which are displayed in Bill’s Maurice & Win-Win tale.
While there were other modules during my freshman year, including a fascinating module on examining myths, legends and lore from other cultures besides Greek mythology or the lessons one can find in the Bible, one module stood out as quintessential Bill Idol – playing The Propaganda Game (TPG).
For those unfamiliar with it TPG it was created in 1966 by Robert W. Allen and Lorne Greene (yes Bonanza’s Lorne Green) based on the book Thinking Straighter by George Henry Moulds. The game is broken down into six categories of techniques of persuasion with a total of 55 different techniques. The goal of the game is to figure out which technique of persuasion/ propaganda is represented by an example written on a card. For instance, here’s the TPG’s guidebook’s example of one technique: “If it were not for the ammunition makers, we would never have wars.” The correct answer is this is the technique of “Causal Oversimplification”.
There are other things to mention about the TPG module. First, it wasn’t even part of Bill’s curriculum as the year began. Instead, Bill stumbled upon the game during the course of the school year and immediately realized its teaching potential for learning how to think critically. Thus, one Monday morning, whatever we were working on at the time was suddenly put aside and we started playing the TPG. As this happened in the middle of the school year all of us were involved in what could only be classified as a teaching experiment.
Second, there was a built-in problem for Bill in terms of maximizing the value of teaching critical thinking by using TPG: How to keep the teaching going after the class had exhausted the use of all of the cards? Bill resolved this problem in two ways. First, Bill developed his own TPG examples. The source could be an advertisement on TV or radio or in a magazine. The only limit to this was Bill’s imagination. Second, after the section where Bill developed the TPG examples the next step became the students being responsible for conjuring up examples of TPG techniques. These examples were then used by Bill to keep the game, and the learning, going.
Perhaps, the most noteworthy aspect of TPG is it is a very direct, and objective, method for teaching critical thinking, listening and writing. True, it isn’t “everything” in terms of critical thinking, listening and writing. In fact, a large part of what Bill was trying to impart to us during the year was that critical thinking often times has a creative/off-the-wall component. But in terms of assessing an editorial piece, or something said by a politician, or anybody for that matter, once one has mastered TPG, and consciously or unconsciously internalized TPG, one possesses a fantastic BS detector. And to attest to the continued value of TPG not only is it possible to purchase the original game there is now an online version and there are even TPG tournaments. TPG proved to be such an effective teaching tool it was used the following year as part of The Media Program.
To conclude my thoughts about freshman English with Bill two observations come to mind. First, the year was as much about reading, writing and critical thinking as it was about looking inside the reading or writing assignment for the life lesson to be learned. I think that for those who understood Bill, and not all his students did, Bill’s desire to impart life lessons is why many of his former students continued to want to learn more with Bill after he left Parker.
Second, Bill’s approach meshed well with the approaches of other teachers, Marie Stone and David O’Neill, whom David Dunlap wrote about, as well as other teachers like Barr McCutcheon and Muriel Moulton. The end result of all of this was a wonderful process for understanding the “life ahead” as David Dunlap put it.
While it is always helpful to know a lot of stuff, I have come to see it is more important to use the following critical thinking process I received at Parker: 1) Learn how to ask the correct questions; 2) know where to find the answers to these questions; and 3) possess the ability to recognize the answers once they appear. This is the most vital skill I received from Parker especially as all human knowledge is provisional, remember we once thought dinosaurs were all cold-blooded reptiles, so it is vital to possess a process for continuing to learn.
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In Bill’s final, fifth, year at Parker freshman English was totally removed from the curriculum and replaced by a Bill Idol creation – The Media Program. TMP was obviously approved by Dr. Thomas and, as you will see shortly, Bill, and the faculty members who participated in TMP, were given a wide berth by the administration to develop the specifics of TMP. Thus, while TMP was Bill’s idea, the details were a collaborative effort. TMP was quintessential Parker during this period of the school’s history. Now Bill will explain the reasons why TMP came into existence and what it entailed. I think you will see how far ahead of the curve TMP was for 1967 and how some version of it would fit perfectly in the world in which we now live. Take it away, Bill!
Going back as far as when I started teaching at Parker one of my concerns, as I explained in my Morning Ex presentation in 1964, was that:
You see, I have this dream about how you and I could be – and in it I am not Mr. Idol, the teacher, who is different in kind from Chris Rago, the student; I am not Mr. Idol, the teacher, who in your minds is a thing, an object to be impressed or tolerated or obeyed... (emphasis added)
This concern stayed with me during my first four years teaching at Parker: I remained concerned that what the kids were really learning, especially the brightest ones, was to figure out what the teacher wanted and deliver it rather than think for themselves. In other words, my primary effect was to produce good soldiers, not good citizens. This may be what basic training is about, but it’s not healthy for a learning environment...
Experiencing what continued to happen during my first four years teaching, and my natural process of maturing, made a profound difference. Instead of inappropriately throwing the kids into a form of chaotic anarchy, now I wanted to set up a structure that was truly liberating – demanding enough to stretch within empowering limitations. This “structure” became what I called The Media Program and was required for all fifty-five freshmen who began the school year in the Fall of 1967.
There were two major purposes behind TMP. One was to help the kids develop a basic survival literacy in eight different media (drawing/painting, sculpture, woodworking, movement, music, photography, writing and drama). After all, these were kids who for the rest of their lives were going to get more than 95% of their information from non-print sources. The second purpose was to enhance, rather than inhibit, each student's creativity and capability for self-direction.
There existed three parts to the structure of TMP. Skill development was focused on two media each month and was conducted and evaluated by the individual teachers as they had always done it. (If I’d tampered with this, the program would’ve never gotten off the ground.) Each month began with a “Stimulus Experience” (SE) shared by all, and concluded with the students presenting their “Monthly Projects” in a small group setting. These “Projects” were to be uniquely individual responses to the SE in one of the two media studied that month. In other words, there were no “right answers” to be found for this part of the structure (we even went to a Pass-Fail grading system for the whole program so faculty could offer suggestions but not threats).
The third part of the structure was helping the kids process the whole experience so they could understand how difficult freedom and ambiguity can be. This was my primary role, and I loved it! I met each week for fifty minutes with all the kids in small groups ranging from six to eight. There was no content agenda to these meetings. I’d just get the kids started talking about what was going on for them in the program that week, and the rest would take care of itself.
There were nine faculty members involved in the program. We were all artistically inclined with matching egos, we were about to launch a controversial program (it replaced the traditional freshmen English class) and we were designing it from scratch. To facilitate the bonding between the nine faculty members involved in the program I got the school to fund a ten day curriculum development retreat before school started. In hindsight, this was one of the best things we did.
It was in these ten days we all came to be comfortable with how the program would work, but, most importantly, we came to respect and trust one another in deep ways essential to such an undertaking.
A major task during this retreat was to plan the first SE. This opened a rift among us that threatened the whole program. About half of us, myself included, insisted the SE had to be as meaningless as we could make it (the term “Happening” was in vogue then). Our reasoning was that the whole point of the program was to get away from the pattern of students success meaning figuring out what the teachers wanted and delivering it, and if we put “meaning” in the SE kids were supposed to find, we’d be right back in that ballgame. The opposing faction felt just as strongly that to deliberately create “meaninglessness” was an abdication of our responsibility, that if we weren’t going to use our expertise and experience, then "What was the school paying us for?” We found ourselves caught in the paradoxes the program was meant to encompass. How could we have both experience and innocence, discipline and creativity, direction and freedom?
Every leader (teacher, manager and especially parent) must, at some point, confront these paradoxes as fundamental issues of leadership, and, for ten days, we did. It wasn't always easy by a long shot, but we came together, and in the end were united around making the first SE as “meaningless” as we could. More than this, to use they colloquialism of the time, “We really got into it!”
To read what happened on the first day TMP started, when we brought the fifty-five freshmen into the auditorium and sat them in the front rows go to my story Just Go starting with paragraph 4 on page 2. Spoiler alert: It was really rough going at the beginning but, by the end, the kids ultimately figured it on their own.
When I reflect on my five years at Parker I’ve realize Parker was the best place I ever worked, including when I owned my own management consulting firm. It was as close to a family as a little over 700 folks, including faculty, of all ages gets. I could well have stayed for my career had my mentor, friend and principal, Dr. Cleveland A. Thomas (Gadge), not died suddenly in 1967.
When I entered the school, the first thing in my day was the Front Hall and Jane McGuinn asking how she could help. Then I would see a long corridor usually displaying art work done by the students along the wall of the auditorium.
In no time I would see folks from Junior Kindergarten to 12th Grade to mature Faculty and Staff — I always got a boost when the littlest kids would come by and we’d say hello to one another.
One of the many great things about Parker was its emphasis on drama and theatrical productions. Lake Bobbitt was the primary drama faculty and helped us all be better performers and audiences. The auditorium was a beautiful place, and four days a week there was Morning Exercise, in which the content was mostly provided from classrooms and individual students. We all looked forward to Lynn Martin’s fourth grade annual Greek Play Morning Ex.
Over many years, the school had evolved annually repeating events for each class. Early in the fall, the freshman high school class put on County Fair so they would have to interact with the high school kids and get comfortable in their new environment. The juniors always put on the Tea Room at County Fair, and when Christmas came, the seniors put on the Santa Claus party in the gym. It just warms my heart to mention the times I spent at Francis Parker.
Gadge was a father-figure for me. I met him accidentally when he was teaching a course at Northwestern in the program I was using to get certified as a teacher. We hit it off, and he mentioned to me that he probably would have a job for me available in the fall. He did have the job, and I loved working at Parker with him. When I started at Parker I was 25 years old, only ten years older than the students I was teaching. Like so many others, I lost a lot when Gadge had that fatal heart attack in a New York airport.
I'm now entering my 87th year and I’ve had lots marvelous adventures along the way, teaching and otherwise, and you can read and learn about many of them online in the Alumni website. One of my most significant and formative times was my five years teaching in the Francis Parker School, and those memories will always be part of my heart… Love to all, Bill
In 2019, when Bill was in town for the class of 1969 reunion, he stayed at a B&B with his wife Donna. As Bill wanted to see some of his students who weren’t in the class of 1969 there was a lunch at the B&B for some of these students. Present for the entire time were David Pfendler (67), Tom Nathan (68), Bill Rosen (68), Chris Rago (69) and me. Dan Frank was present for about an hour and a half, after which he had to leave and get back to the school. During the afternoon so much territory was covered. Of course, there were all the funny “Bill Idol” stories, stories about other teachers during our time at Parker and a general discussion of our years at Parker.
After we plowed through the usual things, toward the end, Bill said there was something in his life he was trying to understand better and he wanted the group’s thoughts. So, we dug in and tried to help Bill better understand his concerns. This was classic Parker: Students and teacher discussing a topic, sharing their perspectives, listening, very closely, to what was being said by each other, building on these comments and trying to reach something of an answer. Or as Bill put it in September 1964 the group was “moving together somewhere”. Except, to a greater extent than when we were all at Parker, everyone in the group was simultaneously a student and teacher and in possession of “a real understanding among all of us that I am you and you are me and we are both him or her.” And, to be clear, Bill said this three years before The Beatles recorded: I Am The Walrus.
In conclusion, from the perspective of some of Bill’s students, both then and now, Bill Idol was The Walrus. And yes, he was a Pied Piper but a Pied Piper who led in a way where he was also side-by-side with his students. He was the best ever Mad Hatter cast in a “student” play at Parker (And quite possibly the only faculty member ever cast in a student production at Parker.). To be certain, English class with Bill was a time when we learned English. But more importantly we learned invaluable lessons about the values and skills needed to live a better life. And, for some of us, he has become a great and giving friend.

Bill Idol 1964

Bill Idol 1968
© Copyright James N. Perlman, William R. Idol & David W. Dunlap. 2024 All rights reserved.