After Such Pleasures

The great American era of the automobile came to a virtual end in 17 States along the Atlantic seaboard last week. Without any warning, the Office of Price Administration banned all pleasure and nonessential driving. At the same time, OPA cut the value of fuel oil coupons for home use by 10% and the amount of fuel oil for nonresidential purposes by 25%. Taken together, these orders brought about the greatest civilian dislocations to date.

Almost overnight nearly all private automobiles disappeared from the streets and highways of the East. There was almost no place to go by car except to work; and many a home was cold for lack of oil. Outlying restaurants, dance halls, horse-and dog-racing tracks folded up; suburban movie-theater owners wondered what they would do next. In Boston many a school closed for a day for lack of heat; in New York City all public schools will close for a week next month.

Necessity, Bungling? The reasons for this sudden action were as complicated as the rules for enforcing it. Partly it was the now well-known story of lack of tankers (which once brought in 95% of the East's oil and gas); partly it was new military demands in North Africa; and partly it was fumbling and lack of foresight in OPA, which should have established more drastic controls earlier in the winter. Best explanation why the action was taken now was that the East's oil and gas reserves (the amount is a military secret) were running dangerously low. OPA hoped to avert a serious crisis in the event of a future cold spell or more pressing military needs.

In Stride. The orders cut to the very heart of daily life; but,by & large the people took them in stride (although no one laughed when 21 oil and gas cars were derailed near Springfield, Ill.). No one looked for complete enforcement of the pleasure-driving ban. After the first day there were surprisingly few violators, but OPA investigators who swarmed over the streets and highways got elaborate excuses. Some direct results of the order:

> Question (asked at Manhattan's OPA office): "May I drive my car to shop around secondhand dealers so I may sell it?" Answer: "No." Question: "May an Italian in a Jewish neighborhood drive to an Italian store a mile away once a week to buy Italian food?" "Yes."

> Rhode Island's Governor J. Howard McGrath walked a mile over icy sidewalks to an ice-skating exhibition. He took along his chauffeur to hold his arm.

> North Carolina's OPAdministrator Theodore S. Johnson gave permission for the use of private cars for this week's address by Wendell Willkie at Duke University. Said he: "... an important public meeting . . . related to the war effort."

> On the first night of the ban, Eleanor Roosevelt drove three blocks in a White House car to hear Negro Contralto Marian Anderson at the D.A.R.'s Constitution Hall. Three days later, unable to wait any longer in the Union Station for Daughter Anna Boettiger and Son-in-Law John (whose train was late) she walked the mile and a half back to the White House with a soldier she had met in the USO lounge.

> On the first night after the ban, Richmond (Va.) primped for a presentation of Die Fledermaus by the Philadelphia Opera Company. That afternoon an irate operagoer called the Times-Dispatch, inquired: "Do you mean to tell me that the best element in Richmond is going to be subjected to this rule?" Cracked City Safety Director W. C. Herbert: "We think the 'best element' is in uniform."

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