Futility Closet - 143-The Conscience Fund
Episode Date: February 27, 2017For 200 years the U.S. Treasury has maintained a "conscience fund" that accepts repayments from people who have defrauded or stolen from the government. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet ...podcast we'll describe the history of the fund and some of the more memorable and puzzling contributions it's received over the years. We'll also ponder Audrey Hepburn's role in World War II and puzzle over an illness cured by climbing poles. Intro: Wisconsin banker John Krubsack grafted 32 box elders into a living chair. According to his colleagues, Wolfgang Pauli's mere presence would cause accidents. Sources for our feature on the conscience fund: Warren Weaver Jr., "'Conscience Fund' at New High," New York Times, March 18, 1987. "$10,000 to Conscience Fund," New York Times, July 21, 1915. "$6,100 to Conscience Fund," New York Times, Feb. 4, 1925. "Swell Conscience Fund; Two Remittances, Small and Large, Bring In $4,876.70," New York Times, Feb. 6, 1916. "Sends $50 to War Department for Equipment Stolen in 1918," New York Times, March 2, 1930. "Depression Swells Total of Federal Conscience Fund," New York Times, April 21, 1932. "Federal Treasury Gets $300 to Add to Conscience Fund," New York Times, March 25, 1932. "9,896 Two-Cent Stamps Sent to City's Conscience Fund," New York Times, May 15, 1930. "$30,000 to Conscience Fund; Contributor Says He Has Sent Four Times Amount He Stole," New York Times, March 10, 1916. "Guilt: Settling With Uncle Sam," Time, March 30, 1987. "The Conscience Fund: Many Thousands Contributed -- Some Peculiar Cases," New York Times, Aug. 5, 1884. "Pays Government Fourfold; Conscience Bothered Man Who Took $8,000 from Treasury," New York Times, June 13, 1908. Rick Van Sant, "Guilt-Stricken Pay Up to IRS 'Conscience Fund' Gets Cash, Quilts," Cincinnati Post, Jan. 26, 1996. John Fairhall, "The Checks Just Keep Coming to the 'Conscience Fund,'" Baltimore Sun, Dec. 10, 1991. Donna Fox, "People Who Rip Off Uncle Sam Pay the 'Conscience Fund,'" Christian Science Monitor, Feb. 24, 1987. Associated Press, "Ten Thousand Dollars in Currency Is Sent to U.S. 'Conscience Fund,'" Harrisburg [Pa.] Telegraph, July 20, 1915. "Washington Letter," Quebec Daily Telegraph, July 3, 1889. "Figures of the Passing Show," Evening Independent, Sept. 16, 1909. James F. Clarity and Warren Weaver Jr., "Briefing: The Conscience Fund," New York Times, Dec. 24, 1985. Warren Weaver Jr., "'Conscience Fund' at New High," New York Times, March 18, 1987. "Conscience Fund Too Small," Los Angeles Times, Aug. 16, 1925. "Laborer Swells Conscience Fund," New York Times, June 28, 1912. "A Conscience Fund Contribution," New York Times, Feb. 14, 1895. "The Conscience Fund," New York Times, March 27, 1932. "Swells Conscience Fund: Californian, Formerly in the Navy, Gets Religion and Pays for Stationery on His Ship," Los Angeles Times, May 5, 1915. "2 Cents, Conscience Fund: Sent to Pay for Twice-Used Stamp -- Costs Post Office a Dollar," New York Times, June 2, 1910. "$30,000 to Conscience Fund: Contributor Says He Has Sent Four Times Amount He Stole," New York Times, March 10, 1916. "'Conscience Fund' Rises: New Yorker's $8 Is Item in $896.49 Sent Treasury," New York Times, Nov. 28, 1937. "The Conscience Fund: Many Thousands Contributed -- Some Peculiar Cases," New York Times, Aug. 5 1884. "The Conscience Fund: Young Woman Seeks a Loan From It From a Belief It Was Created for Benefit of Honest People," Los Angeles Times, July 13, 1914. "Gives to Conscience Fund: Contributor of $36 'Forgot Tax Item' -- Another Sends $32," New York Times, April 3, 1936. "Conscience-Fund Flurries: Due to Religious Revivals," Los Angeles Times, Nov. 28, 1903. "$100 for Conscience Fund: Customs Officials Think Same Person Sent $10c a Few Days Ago," New York Times, March 10, 1928. "Swell Conscience Fund: Two Remittances, Small and Large, Bring In $4,876.70," New York Times, Feb. 6, 1916. "Conscience Fund for President: Pasadena Writer Sends Dollar to Harding to Make Good for 20-Year-Old Theft," Los Angeles Times, April 17, 1921. "$33 for Conscience Fund: Smuggler Sent Taft the Money After Selling His Goods," New York Times, May 21, 1911. "$1 to Conscience Fund: Remorseful Laborer Pays Off Debt to Government by Installments," New York Times, Nov. 10, 1912. "The Nation's Conscience Fund," Scrap Book, May 1906. "Uncle Sam's Conscience Fund," Book of the Royal Blue, November 1904. "The Conscience Fund," Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, July 1894. "Gives $18,669 to Conscience Fund," Chicago Tribune, Nov. 26, 1901. "Large and Small Sums Swell Conscience Fund," Virginia Chronicle, March 6, 1925. "Miscellaneous Revenue Collections, or Conscience Fund," Internal Revenue Manual 3.8.45.7.35 (01-01-2011), U.S. Internal Revenue Service (accessed Feb. 12, 2017). Listener mail: "Myth Debunked: Audrey Hepburn Did Not Work for the Resistance" [in Dutch], Dutch Broadcast Foundation, Nov. 17, 2016. The official Audrey Hepburn site. To see the mentioned image of Hepburn and her mother in a musical benefit concert in 1940, Samantha gives these steps: From the homepage, go to the "life & career" section. On the left side of the page, choose "1929-1940," then "Audrey's childhood." Click the down arrow below the image 15 times. A screen test of Hepburn in 1953, in which she says she gave secret ballet performances to raise money for "the underground": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSnKWwRCWnw Airborne Museum's exhibition on Audrey Hepburn and her mother, Ella van Heemstra. Two obituaries of Michael Burn: William Grimessept, "Michael Burn, Writer and Adventurer, Dies at 97," New York Times, Sept. 14, 2010. "Michael Burn," Telegraph, Sept. 6, 2010. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Alexander Loew. Here are two corroborating links (warning -- these spoil the puzzle). You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or Google Play Music or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation on the Support Us page of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Welcome to the Futility Closet podcast, forgotten stories from the pages of history.
Visit us online to sample more than 9,000 quirky curiosities from a grower of chairs
to a disastrous physicist.
This is episode 143.
I'm Greg Ross.
And I'm Sharon Ross.
This is episode 143. I'm Greg Ross.
And I'm Sharon Ross.
200 years ago, the U.S. government had to decide what to do with money it was receiving from guilt-stricken people who had stolen from it.
The answer was to set up a special account just for this purpose.
In today's show, we'll describe the history of this conscience fund and some of the more memorable contributions it's received over the years. We'll also ponder Audrey Hepburn's role in World War II,
and puzzle over an illness cured by climbing poles.
The U.S. Treasury Department maintains three so-called gift funds
for people to donate money directly to the government.
One is designated for the military.
One is for people who just want to contribute money straight to the government out of patriotism or friendliness.
And the last is something called the Conscience Fund, which is an account that's expressly set
up for people who have stolen from or defrauded the U.S. government and want to make voluntary
contributions to it just out of guilt or just out of wanting to redress the wrong.
There are several stories
as to how this got started. One says that during the Civil War, the treasurer, Francis Spinner,
received a letter with a check for $1,500. The sender said he was repaying some government funds
that he'd misappropriated when he was a quartermaster in the army. He wrote, suppose we
call this a contribution to the conscience fund and get it announced in the newspapers,
and perhaps we will get some more. That doesn't seem
to be the beginning of it, though, because there's another common story that says it started in 1811
when President James Madison found a $2 bill on his desk with a note saying the writer had stolen
that amount from the government. Madison ordered that the money should be credited to account
conscience. The incident was published in all the newspapers and the conscience fund was established.
I think the truth is that it goes back even further than that.
People were giving money, at least in small amounts, to the government prior to 1811,
but the government was just turning those donations into general revenues without anyone keeping track of them.
But in 1811, they were so heavy that a special fund was created.
In any case, this has been going on for a long time, more than 200 years.
And the fund is there, and new donations even today come in every week from
guilt-stricken citizens. According to what I've been reading, they tend to drop off a bit in hard
times and to increase around holidays, Christmas and Easter in particular, and around tax time.
Any money that's donated to the Conscience Fund is deposited into the Treasury's general account
as miscellaneous receipts, and then it's just used for general expenses for any purpose that the government deems proper. Because they feel guilty about
their transgressions, people tend to be cautious about making donations. They send cash, and they
often hide their identities by using an intermediary, such as clergymen, attorneys, relatives,
friends, people have even used jailers, to avoid being tracked down. But generally, as one spokesman
said, the treasury is not in the business of prosecution.
Generally, the government doesn't ask questions
as far as they know the donor is innocent,
and in most cases, they don't even know of the indebtedness.
And it occurs to me that if they prosecuted even one person,
that would scare away everyone else,
which kind of defeats the whole purpose.
Yeah, exactly.
And the spirit of the thing.
I know of only two cases where the government
tried to track down a contributor, and in both of those, they were trying to return the money rather than to punish the sender.
In 1925, three checks totaling $6,100 were received by a collector of the Internal Revenue Department.
The checks were from the John Doe Company and were drawn on three different Chicago banks.
The accompanying letter said they were for tax and interest and that the sender, quote, trusted the money would be received in the spirit in which it was sent.
The government couldn't trace any outstanding debts that matched that payment, so they began to think he was just mistaken, the donor, that he didn't really owe this money.
They tried to trace him in order to return the money, but the bank said the man who drew the checks was not known to them.
He'd identified himself as John Smith of Cleveland, Ohio, and the trail just ended there. They had no way to return the money. The other case where I know they tried
to track someone down and here they succeeded is that during World War I, a young woman worked as
a clerk at a local draft board. Her job was to send notices to men who'd been selected for service,
who had been drafted. She used to write encouraging messages on the notices, and she realized only
afterward that this was official mail sent free of postage, and hence it shouldn't be used for private correspondence.
So she sent the Treasury a check for $340 to make amends for this.
She signed her name, which identified her, so the Treasury was able to track her down
and return the check, saying, you don't have to pay us for that.
So over the past few weeks, I've been rooting around through newspaper reports of all the
letters they've received over the years, and I've made a little list of some of the notable ones.
These are in no order.
When Grover Cleveland was president in the 1890s, he received a letter from a 15-year-old girl.
She wrote,
To His Majesty President Cleveland,
Dear President,
I am in a dreadful state of mind, and I thought I would write and tell you all.
About two years ago, as near as I can remember, it was two years,
I used two postage
stamps that had been used before on letters, perhaps more than two stamps, but I can only
remember of doing it twice. I did not realize what I had done until lately. My mind is constantly
turned on that subject, and I think of it night and day. Now, dear President, will you please
forgive me, and I promise you I will never do it again. Enclosed fine cost of three stamps.
Please forgive me, for I was then but 13 years old
for I am heartily sorry for what I have done. And she signed it from one of your subjects.
But that's real contrition. I mean, her parents didn't make her write that. You can tell she
really felt bad about it. In 1932, the New York Times reported, some years ago, a Civil War
veteran confessed to a minister out in Indiana that he had never felt the same since he had left
the army and taken with him a government mule. His penitence brought $200 into the treasury. In 1912, a laborer in
Kittery, Maine sent monthly contributions for more than a year to repay a debt that he never explained.
At one point, he sent President Taft a $2 bill with a note saying, I am sorry to keep troubling
you in this manner, but I am anxious that all money shall reach its proper destination as it
is close work saving it. In 1904, a letter from West Virginia read, I have settled with the Lord. I am due the
government two dollars which find enclosed herewith. You need not send receipt as the Lord
has already receipted. It was signed yours in the Lord. In 1987, a government contractor stole some
room dividers. He wrote, my conscience hurts. I am extremely sorry for this rotten act.
Enclosed is a $50 bill to cover the cost.
He enclosed a brand new $50 bill.
This really bothers some people.
Well, I think it's kind of sweet because they don't, there's no way to gain by this.
And it's, people don't even know who it's coming from.
So the only reason to do this is real guilt.
Just to clear your conscience and feel like, okay, I got those stamps off my conscience. Right. And a lot of them are just very, just a few pennies.
In 1930, the chief of finances of the war department received a check for $50 from a
former soldier who now lived in Colorado. He included a letter that read, while on the service
during 1918 to 1920, I stole equipment and clothing to the amount as near as I can tell of about $50.
Since that time, God has wonderfully saved me and I am going back over my tracks and making
every wrong right that I possibly can. Enclosed fine check for same, and by his grace, I hope
nothing of its kind will have to be repeated. One contributor who sent $625 to make up for
back taxes added, P.S. I would not call myself a patriot, not in any fanatical sense at least,
but let me say that I do love this country.
I especially appreciate the way we take care of the poor, the unemployed, and the homeless.
I just thought I'd add that.
In 1929, a veteran with an unusually severe attack of conscience sent the War Department a check for $110.76 with an itemized list of his transgressions.
It reads,
Marksman's extra pay received but not deserved, $14. Three
weeks pay while sick, not in line of duty, $24. Five days AWOL, never discovered by commanding
officer, $5. Request for reduced railroad fare, illegally used, $10. One small spark coil, may
have been government property, $5. Ten yards of target cloth stolen, $5.
Government stationery and envelopes used, $5.
Interest for 10 years at 5%, $42.76.
One former federal employee felt guilty about copying private letters on a government duplicating machine, so he sent in $20.
He said he figured the copying cost came to $5, but he sent more, quote, because the Bible says to repay fourfold. And that's a common theme in these letters. The
Bible says that if you acquire something by theft or fraud, you should make restitution by repaying
four times the amount of the debt. Many of the Conscience Fund contributors did this. In 1905,
Treasury Secretary L.M. Shaw received $12,000 in paper money with a note that read, Dear Sir,
I am sending you here with $12,000,
which is to go to the use of the United States government. Years ago, I defrauded the government
of money, but have returned it all, and now I'm paying fourfold in accordance with the teachings
of the scriptures. The way of the transgressor is hard, and no one but God knows how I have
suffered the consequences, and I would seek to do a bountiful restoration. May God pardon while
the United States government is benefited. And he signed it, A Sinner.
Most impressively in this line, in the early 1900s,
someone who had stolen $20,000 sent in $80,000 in installments over several years to repay the debt.
The last installment, $30,000, came in 1916 with a letter that read,
May every thief understand the awfulness of the sin of stealing is the sincere wish of a penitent.
Let no one claim any of this amount on any pretext.
These get increasingly strange.
In 1904, one 1904 article says,
Mingled with the truly pathetic cases are quite a number of more or less ludicrous atonements.
One man wrote,
While I was employed as a letter carrier in a town which I don't mention here, I stole $10 from a letter.
I got religion since,
thank the Lord, and that $10 has been bothering me considerable. Nobody ever knew I took it,
and there ain't no chance of me ever getting arrested for it, so I send hereby $5, which you
will please put in the conscience fund, for I want to do what's right and proper, spelled R-I-T-E
and P-R-O-P-P-E-R. Another man informed the treasurer of the United States that he had experienced many twinges of conscience
because of owing the government $65.
He had finally decided to ease his conscience
by sending the $10, which he enclosed,
and he added that if this did not give him
complete relief from the twinges,
he might send another $10 at a later date.
It's like, send as little as I can
until I can finally feel okay about it.
In 1906, a Kansas man wrote to say that
36 years earlier, he had bought a horse from army deserters who had stolen it from Fort Leavenworth.
He had paid them $40 for it and eventually sold it again for $40. So he'd made no profit.
But the fact that he dealt in a contraband horse had preyed steadily upon his conscience. And so
he sent $40 to the conscience fund. A Chicago man sent $1 for
taking a small apple tree from the government orchard at Fort Sheridan years earlier. In 1906,
a letter from the West confessed that the writer had stolen two sheets and a pillowcase from an
Indian school. He enclosed a dollar. In late 1905, a farmer in Michigan sent $30 as the duty on a
horse that he had driven across the border from Manitoba a number of years earlier. Nearly a month later, he sent a second letter with $6.65 to cover the harness and the buggy.
Not all the Conscience Fund money is sent by people with troubled consciences.
This is interesting.
Some of it is money that came in a perfectly legal way into the hands of people
who didn't think they were entitled to it.
Sometimes this gets political.
In 1873, Congress gave itself a pay raise,
and many of the members who opposed it donated the extra money to the Conscience Fund to show that they would have felt guilty accepting it.
Somewhat conversely, when President Herbert Hoover and his cabinet volunteered to reduce their pay in 1932 during the Depression, they asked the Treasury not to put the money in the Conscience Fund so that they wouldn't look as they were returning the money out of guilt.
It went into the General Fund instead.
Some people send in money that they
simply find on the street. One sent in a dime and a letter that read, this afternoon I found
the enclosed coin on the pavement. So I thought I'd send it to the government. Sure. In the 1980s,
someone in St. Louis sent in at least four separate coins he'd found on the street. In 1984,
he sent a dime and a penny. And in 1985, he sent two nickels, one at a time, explaining that the
owner could not be found. When I read about that, I wondered why these wound up in the Conscience
Fund, and I think the reason is that the sender wasn't making a free donation of his own money,
he was returning money that he felt belonged to the government. I guess there's not a bright line
between the funds. Some letters are just incomprehensible. Enclosed is $210 for some
letters I read many years ago and some food I didn't pay for.
No one at the Treasury knows what that means.
One Chicago man who considered that he owed the government $1,665 assembled the money in cash and then cut the bills in half,
sending one half of each piece of currency to the Treasury at Washington and the other to the sub-Treasury at New York.
That was to guard against theft.
The halves would be worthless until the government reattached them so he could be sure they would
reach their destination safely.
Which is odd, but clever.
Two last odd ones.
Some people just get the wrong idea.
In 1914, a young woman heard of the Conscience Fund and decided it was a fund created by
the government to reward people with clear consciences and asked for $100 to fund her
education. She wrote to the Secretary of the Treasury saying that she had a perfectly good
conscience and would repay the money in time with interest. She guaranteed that the government would
lose nothing. They turned her down. And sadly, and finally, even the conscience fund itself is
subject to fraud. Sometimes when a large gift is reported in the news, someone will try to get his
hands on it by deceit. When the story of a $30,000 donation appeared in the newspaper, one woman wrote in to claim half of it. She said her
husband had been drunk at the time he had sent in the money and that he'd sent twice as much as he'd
intended. She asked them to send her $15,000. They didn't.
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They also protect your eyes from harmful UV light, which can contribute to long-term damages like eye
disease. And with Crizal no-glare lenses, your friends and family can actually see your eyes, Thank you. I have some updates on the Audrey Hepburn question that I covered in episode 140 on
whether she had participated in the Dutch resistance during World War II.
This question sprang from a lateral thinking puzzle in episode 138, in which Hepburn was
said to have danced to raise money for the resistance.
Samantha Lisk wrote to say,
Dear Sharon, Greg, and Sasha, I am a newcomer to Futility Closet and I listen to the
podcast throughout the day, often to the detriment of my productivity at work. Everything is so
interesting. I was particularly happy to learn that you live in the Research Triangle area because
that is where I live as well and I don't know of many other podcasts originating from here.
I'm writing in regards to the debunking of the Audrey Hepburn blackout performance story that you mentioned in
episode 140 of the podcast. Classic films are a hobby of mine, and it is documented in several
places, often in Audrey's own words or those of her children, that she did make such performances
to benefit the Dutch resistance during the war. One example is found at Audrey Hepburn's official
site, AudreyHepburn.com. There is an image of Audrey and her mother Ella in one such performance.
The caption reads,
Audrey and Ella performing in a Tableau Vivant musical benefit concert in Arnhem, January 1940.
The website also describes their life in occupied Holland
and specifically mentions Audrey's benefit performances.
Ella did her best to keep Audrey's spirits up and enrolled her in ballet
lessons at the Arnhem Conservatory. For her part, Audrey participated in blackout performances held
to benefit the resistance and gave ballet lessons in her grandfather's house to refugee girls in the
area. In addition, Hepburn herself described her efforts to aid the resistance during the
occupation in her screen test for Roman Holiday,
though I think you may have quoted this directly in the podcast episode.
And Samantha sent a link to a video of Hepburn saying the words that I had quoted in episode 140 about how she gave secret dance performances in 1944 to help raise money for what she called
the underground. I had seen this quote on the CNN website and hadn't known in what context
she had said it, so it was interesting to learn that it was part of a screen test and also to see
the video of her saying it herself. Samantha also notes that Hepburn's oldest son, Sean Hepburn
Ferrer, wrote a book entitled Audrey Hepburn, An Elegant Spirit, in which he mentions her aid to
the Dutch resistance, and Samantha includes a quote from the book.
Audrey participated in several benefit performances whose moral uplifting value to the Dutch-occupied population concealed fundraising efforts on behalf of the Dutch resistance.
So that seems like some decent evidence in the support for the story column.
Yeah.
We also heard from a couple of our Dutch listeners about this topic. Right before we had
released episode 140 with the follow-up on Hepburn, John Seegers wrote, it has only been six
weeks since I discovered your podcast and I was instantly addicted to both the stories and the
lateral thinking puzzles. One puzzle that was based on an actual piece of history I found
particularly enthralling, the puzzle about the ballet dancer whose performances had to be kept secret and who was later to become famous as an actress. Indeed, I am talking about
Audrey Hepburn, who was one of the few people with a Dutch background that became celebrities
in Hollywood. It so happens that right around the time you published episode 138, an exhibition was
opened in a Dutch war museum that addresses Ms. Hepburn's wartime years in the Netherlands and
the role her mother played during this time. In addition, the research done in preparation for the exhibition gave rise
to a psychological novel entitled Et Keheim van Audrey H., or The Secret of Audrey H.
All of this I learned from a late night show on Dutch television two days after listening to
episode 138. What an incredible coincidence, don't you think?
It really is.
It is.
Many thanks for the wealth of interesting stories that you research and publish.
I hope that my message contributes a tiny bit to one of them.
So thanks for that, John.
And yes, you certainly did.
And yeah, the timing was a complete coincidence
because Sid had sent us that puzzle back in October,
and we just happened to use it right before this exhibition opened in the Netherlands, apparently. It's a pretty obscure
topic to come up twice like that. Yeah. And Robert Der Hart wrote in response to my asking for help
with the translation of the Airborne Museum's news article with their claim that Hepburn had
not worked for the resistance. This was the article that seems to have prompted the whole
question in the first place, and Robert's translation made a lot more sense than the Google
translated version I'd been trying to understand. So I really appreciated both that and his very
helpful pronunciation tips for names and places that he included in his email. It seems that the
Airborne Museum in Osterbeek has concluded that the idea of Hepburn working for the resistance
was a myth that was spread by her
biographer, Barry Paris, among others. The museum says that there were nearly two dozen stories
about Hepburn's work for the resistance, which ranged from smaller things like dancing to raise
money or delivering messages, to claims that she had helped evacuate British soldiers after the
1944 Battle of Arnhem. The museum's director said that they searched archives
from Australia to Brussels and spoke to numerous sources
but could not find any evidence for these claims.
The investigation did, however, turn up enough material
for the museum to put together an exhibition
on the influence of Hepburn's mother,
Ella von Heimstra, on her career.
This exhibition, which I think is the same one that Robert,
that, excuse me, John was writing about,
was opened on January 26th by Hepburn's sons. And Robert sent some extra information on the exhibit,
which according to the museum is partly about how Van Heemstro was the driving force behind
Hepburn's career. The museum also says that part of the purpose of the exhibit is to show that for
the majority of Dutch people during the Second World War, daily life went on as usual and that the population did not consist only of collaborators or resistance fighters.
The exhibition is about the core values of citizens who were under pressure at that time.
The storyline shows how a Dutch mother tried to find a moral compass in a chaotic world,
but also how she was sometimes led by opportunistic motives to offer her daughter the chances that she herself had never enjoyed. The exhibition is not intended to show good or bad,
but to disclose the gray area in between. And the museum points out that Hepburn's mother had been
involved with fascist groups earlier in her life. This had given her a large social network that may
have helped to launch Hepburn's international career, but also caused the family some disgrace right after the war.
As for whether Hepburn did participate in the resistance, Robert says,
I wouldn't be surprised if, after the war, Hepburn and or her mother embellished the odd story,
singing to raise money, or left an inaccurate claim by an overzealous biographer or publicity
agent unchallenged. An heroic story about a young
girl during the war can't have been bad for her public image. Better in any case than the truth.
But that is pure speculation. I'm inclined to think Hepburn did not work for the resistance.
As the museum says, people weren't all resistance fighters. For most, ordinary life continued as
normal. So I guess overall, it seems to me that it looks unlikely that Audrey
Hepburn participated in any serious resistance activities such as helping to transport soldiers.
But there does seem to be at least some good reasons to think that she very well may have
participated in at least some fundraising for the underground, as she said. I guess it would
be hard to definitively prove either side at this point. Yeah, but that's interesting. If there were
bolder claims that are being thrown out,
that doesn't mean these sort of milder ones are false too.
Right.
It seems like the museum was kind of throwing them all out together.
And I don't know how they accounted for the fact that Audrey herself seems to have said it,
but I can understand why they would want to say she probably didn't help transport soldiers.
Yeah, I certainly buy that.
But I think you already made the point.
If she did dance as she did in this puzzle,
it would be hard to prove that, especially now.
Right.
There's probably no written records of, you know,
who was participating in secret performances.
Right, exactly.
On a rather different facet of Audrey Hepburn's wartime doings,
Brian Arnold wrote,
Hello, Greg, Sharon, and Sasha. We just finished listening to podcast episode 138 and as always
thoroughly enjoyed it. The puzzle about the ballerina who actually ended up being Audrey
Hepburn made me recall an obituary in the New York Times about Michael Byrne, a British man
who passed away in 2010. It feels like there could be a whole episode about him, but some highlights.
He flirted with Nazism, ended up being a decorated British Army commando,
was a POW, an author, and was the gay lover of a KGB agent.
He had had an affair with Audrey Hepburn's mother,
and she sent him a Red Cross package while he was a prisoner of the Nazis.
After his release, he returned the favor by sending cigarettes to her in the Netherlands,
which she was able to sell on the black market to buy penicillin, which was needed to treat Audrey's malnutrition-related infection.
I thought this was funny because it must be the first time in history when cigarettes were
actually responsible for drastically improving someone's health. And by the account of the New
York Times obituary, it does seem that Byrne had an extremely colorful and eventful life.
The Times goes as far as to say that Byrne saved Audrey Hepburn's life.
And I wondered if maybe that was overstating things a bit.
But so I looked into it a little bit.
And his obituary in The Telegraph says,
he helped save Audrey Hepburn's life by sending food parcels to her in occupied Holland,
where she was critically ill in hospital and where she and her mother were subsisting on tulip bulbs burn also sent them hundreds of cartons of cigarettes which commanded
high prices on the black market the money raised from their sale bought audrey hepburn supplies of
the new drug penicillin which were crucial in her recovery from an infection brought on by
malnutrition she had a really hard life yeah she did she did. And so overall, I think I'm going
to go with that he sounds like he helped to save her life. And I also think that it would make a
great lateral thinking puzzle to ask how cigarettes managed to save someone's life if anyone wants to
try that out on their family or friends. And on a non-Audrey Hepburn related note, Brian Ford wrote in about episode 108 and the story of Ruth Belleville, a London woman who, until 1939, would set her watch at the Greenwich Observatory and bring the correct time to her customers in the city.
never heard of this. You may be interested to know that a similar service still existed up until this century. We have a friend who was a clockmaker living in Greenwich. He repairs and maintains
the most wonderful timepieces you can imagine. One of the things he used to do was go to the
City of London each week, where many venerable institutions have antiquarian clocks on display.
Every Friday he would go and do his rounds, which consisted of winding these clocks and setting the
time. So it's not exactly what the Greenwich Time Lady did, and certainly not for the same reason,
but as recently as the last 15 years, the time was still being taken from Greenwich to the city.
I like that.
So thanks so much to everyone who writes to us. And if you have anything you'd like to say,
please send it to us at podcast at futilitycloset.com.
to say, please send it to us at podcast at futilitycloset.com.
It's my turn to try to solve a lateral thinking puzzle. Greg is going to give me a strange sounding situation and I have to try to figure out what is actually going on, asking only yes
or no questions. This is from listener Alexander Louvre. The doctors of the French court asked
their patients to climb a tall pole in order to alleviate the symptoms of their disease. What were they trying to cure? This is really real? Yes.
Well, we think so. We think so. I mean, that could be almost anything, depending on how confused
they were about physiology at the time. Okay. Would you have expected one gender more than the other to be
told to climb the tall pole? No. Oh, either gender. Okay. Would you have expected one age
group more than another to be doing this? No. Okay. Would there be some characteristics about
the patients other than what disease they have that you would expect to be relevant here?
Aha.
It's not gender.
It's not age.
Nationality?
Yes.
Oh.
You're making good progress already.
Okay.
So some people that were not French who were in the French court would be having some kind of malady.
Would this be like, I don't know, they didn't know about jet lag back then so adapting to a new time zone no good guess um so it'd be people that were from a so should i work
out what what other country they were from yes okay was it like one specific country yes oh my
i must say you're already doing much better than i thought you might i I am too. Okay, a country in Europe?
Yes.
A country that's like at a high altitude,
so they thought they needed to get them back up
to a high altitude?
Yes.
Oh, gosh.
Okay, Switzerland?
Yes.
I'm trying to think of high altitude countries.
You're almost there.
So, okay, so Swiss people were coming to the French court
and suffering from some problem.
And they thought, well, if we can get them back to altitude, a high altitude, that would solve it.
Was this a problem they were having truly related to altitude?
No.
Like, so I shouldn't even bother.
No, don't try to make actual sense of it.
Don't make actual sense of it.
Okay.
Was this a problem that French people could have had also?
Yes. sense of it okay was this a problem that that french people could have had also um yes but but the swiss were more likely to have it yes would all visitors to the french court be likely to have it
um or most visitors as opposed to like no you really would expect the swiss to be having this
problem more no let's say all visitors not the french themselves but the Swiss to be having this problem more. No, let's say all visitors, not the French themselves, but the visitors.
Visitors could be having this problem.
Yes.
Is it like, I don't know, indigestion because they're not used to French food?
No.
No.
Okay, so the visitors would be more likely to have it.
Would this be something that you would consider communicable?
No.
A disease you would catch from someone else?
No.
A problem you're having yourself. insomnia no no allergies no these are all good guesses
um is this something that people would normally you would think they would die from no no so this
is more of a nuisance kind of a problem yes and i'd call it a problem think less a problem. Yes, and I'd call it a problem. Think less, think more psychological and less somatic.
Okay, and so do I need to know the time period?
Well, yes or no.
I'll just tell you it's the 1600s, 17th century.
Okay, okay.
But it's not related to anything particularly that's going on at that time, any particular
geopolitical events or historical events that I need to know about at that time.
Nope.
geopolitical events or historical events that I need to know about at that time.
Okay, so visitors to the French court in the 1600s would have been likely to have had some kind of discomfort or problem. All right, would it be related to the gastrointestinal
system?
No.
Respiratory system?
No. Again, it's not so much bodily as mental.
Homesickness? Yes, that is exactly oh my gosh no uh swiss soldiers
served as guards at the french court as was the custom for many heads of state this is the so-called
swiss guard alex says some thought that since they lamented the longing for their mountains
mountains equals altitude let's raise their altitude i should say here that alex said he
couldn't confirm the actual business about making them climb poles,
and I tried to and couldn't either, so we're not sure about that part of it, but the rest of this is true.
In modern times, homesickness was thought specifically to afflict Swiss people,
since Swiss mercenaries served in various countries across Europe, often for long periods of time.
This dates back to 1688, when Swiss doctor Johannes Hofer referred to it as a neurological disease of essentially
demonic cause. There was even a name for it, Mal de Suisse, which means Swiss illness, or Schweizer
Heimweh, which means Swiss homesickness. It was thought that Swiss mercenaries serving in lowland
France or Italy would pine for their native mountains. Additional symptoms were thought to
include fainting, high fever, indigestion, stomach pain, and even death. The cause was uncertain.
Military physicians thought that the condition might be due to damage to the victim's brain cells
and eardrums caused by the clanging of cowbells in their native land.
I'll put a link in the show notes.
So, well done.
And thank you, Alex, for sending that in.
And maybe if you're busy climbing a pole, like, you just forget to be homesick for a little while.
Thank you.
And if anybody else has a puzzle they'd like to send in for us to try,
you can send it to us at podcast
at futilitycloset.com.
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