By: Phyllis A. Frenzel
(Student of Library Science)
Clarion University, PA

Doris Hunter's writing professor at Columbia University once used a short story she had written as an example of a very good one, except that it had no ending. Ironically, her career as a librarian and her many interesting experiences come together as an excellent unfinished story. Her diligent work over the years, as a reference and cataloging librarian, answering questions and making materials available to library users, continues indefinitely in the lives of the people who have benefited from her work. Therefore this story has no ending because to give it one would be most inappropriate.

Next August, Doris will be eighty years old, and today, some of the 169 countries she has visited no longer exist. For six of her twenty-eight years in government service, she served as an Administrative Assistant for the US State Department in India and Africa. Following library school at Columbia University, she became a Special Services Librarian for the US Army with assignments in France, Germany, Hawaii and Korea. She spent the remaining eleven years of her career at the United States Army Military History Institute at Carlisle Barracks and retired in 1981.

One of her retirement goals was to have more time to play golf, and it was through this common interest that we recently met on Ladies day at the Carlisle Barracks course. As we conversed, while pulling our carts from the second to the third hole, we discovered that we are fellow New Englanders and that we had both lived in Hawaii. When she told me that she had been a Special Services Librarian there in the 60s, I immediately knew that I wanted to learn even more about her, for as a graduate student of Librarianship, I found these coincidences too numerous to ignore.

Later that afternoon, she graciously consented to an interview. The next day, she arrived at my home with some of her personnel records and a January 1981 issue of an MHI Newsletter, which contained an article about her upcoming retirement on the 17th of that month. These items helped provide the framework for her story. These personal records, plus the anecdotes she related during the interview, a later e-mail message, and my subsequent visit to her home are the ingredients for this remarkable story that an ending would only spoil.

Doris was born on August 24, 1920 in Hartford, Connecticut. Her other siblings include a sister, who is married to a retired diplomat and a brother, who is deceased. Her father was William Hunter, who liked to be called "Printer". He founded Hunter Press, which though small, became quite successful because of his high standards and well-established reputation for doing quality work. Her mother was born in Scotland, and probably had no formal education beyond the eighth grade. However, she continued to educate herself by reading extensively, and she especially enjoyed studying history, and learning about the world. "She also studied oil painting throughout her adult life, earning a number of rewards for her work, and acquiring a valuable collection of art books, which Doris still has." Doris believes that her mother's avid interest in the world sparked in her the desire to travel to the places about which her mother had read.

Doris' independent spirit, her professional ambition, and her desire to travel placed her well ahead of her contemporaries. Though opportunities were limited for women of her generation, and she experienced disappointment because of it, she functioned within the context of American society during that time. Nonetheless, she took full advantage of the options that were available to her.

Because she originally wanted to become a doctor, she studied Chemistry at the University of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia. However, women then were required to have all A's in order to qualify for medical school. Because she was unable to maintain such a high academic standard in all of her courses, she switched her major to English and decided instead to minor in Chemistry. While a freshman at the University of Pennsylvania, she was invited to join a hostelers' organization, which led groups of students on bicycle tours to Europe. Her first trip in 1938 was a "typical Youth Hostel tour through England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales -- rugged, stimulating and educational."

However, her 1939 bicycle tour to the depths of Europe to countries such as Yugoslavia, Hungary, Rumania and Poland brought out her self reliant spirit and an insatiable desire to travel even more.
She, three young women and eight young men her age were in Poland on her birthday August 24 when the Germans began dropping bombs there. They contacted the Embassy in Warsaw and were ordered to leave the country immediately. There was only one train departing Poland and they were told that they had better be on it. They had no food and there were long breadlines. Doris waited in one of them, and after some time, she was able to procure two loaves of bread for her group of twelve. The boys carried the bikes and loaded them on the train, while Doris and another friend tried unsuccessfully to save two compartments for them. Doris' attempt to reserve a compartment was foiled by a large German man, who threw her against the wall and invited her to leave. The train was so crowded with people trying to leave Poland that they had to sleep in the aisle, which was noisy and uncomfortable. All night they could hear the click-clack of the metal wheels, which felt as if they were square rather than round. After stopping at every station, the train finally arrived in Frankfurt.

They spent one night in a pension but had to leave the country quickly because Germany was at war. They headed towards France, going as far as they could by bicycle and train. In Belgium, they inquired about their return boat tickets, which were for a German liner. Though they were able to transfer them to Canadian Pacific, when Canada became belligerent shortly thereafter, they once again had worthless tickets, but this time there was no remedy. They were all short of cash and barely had enough for food. Meals had to be carefully planned to conserve funds, and they ended up eating less often.

On September 3, they arrived in Paris, where they contacted Ambassador Bullitt. Doris' father had already been in touch with him and with the families of the other students. Mr. Hunter, with the consent of most of the families, was able to guarantee the return fare for the entire group. In the meantime, the Germans had started bombing the areas surrounding Paris, and even though Paris was spared, they spent one week in and out of abris (bomb shelters). The girls were sent to Verdun near Bordeaux and spent a week at a facility equivalent to the YWCA for $7.50 each, which included continental breakfast daily and a light supper.

Her ship finally departed Bordeaux for Brooklyn, via Southampton, where four of the boys boarded the ship. It was brilliantly lighted, as were all United States passenger ships at that time, in order to prevent accidental bombings of non-combatants. The remaining six members of her group all arrived home safely on different ships. Her family was relieved to see her and looked forward to having her home again.

She continued at the University of Pennsylvania and graduated in 1942. For seven years she worked as a Chemist for Pratt and Whitney Aircraft in Hartford. She enjoyed her job and did well there, but became disillusioned when the company began requiring her to train the young men they were hiring after the war. Even though she had seniority over her new trainees, their starting salaries were higher than hers.

Rather than remain on an uneven professional playing field, she contemplated her options. From her wartime Europeon adventures, she learned that she could take care of herself anywhere in the world and under any circumstances. She wrote the State Department a letter, requesting an overseas assignment, and they responded by inviting her to Washington, DC for an interview. After being hired, she spent two months in training and under their observation to insure that she was a suitable candidate for a remote posting.

She became an Administrative Assistant for USIS (US Information Service) and was offered Rangoon, Calcutta, Bangkok or Sophia. Her first choice was Rangoon, but that position had been filled in the interim, so she opted for Calcutta. She made this decision with the help of her mother, whom she expected to be apprehensive about her going abroad. However, her mother simply advised her not to go behind the Iron Curtain.

Though Calcutta was considered to be a hardship tour, she was provided with large living quarters complete with a staff of servants. The United States Information Service Libraries were usually located near a US consulate, an embassy or a diplomatic mission. Doris' library's holdings consisted of materials written in English about the United States for the indigenous people of Calcutta. Because of the British occupation, most of the population spoke English, and thus had no trouble reading the American library materials. While in Calcutta, she also was assigned as an escort to Eleanor Roosevelt, and was responsible for having her picked up from the airport and getting her to her scheduled event. Though Doris was only with her briefly, she found Mrs. Roosevelt to be a very warm and pleasant person, and she was proud to have performed that duty.

She remained in India from 1950-52, and moved to Tangiers, Morocco, where she stayed for one year. There she lived in the Casbah, in a villa that Samuel Pepys once occupied. "The fig tree about which he wrote in his diaries was in the courtyard of this villa. From this courtyard, there were three descending terraces, which offered a commanding view of the Mediterrean. The wealthy Doris Duke owned the adjacent villa, however, she was seldom there, and was never seen." The US Legation where Doris worked was also in the Casbah within walking distance of the villa. However, getting to her nearby workplace through a maze of staircases without getting lost required her to carefully memorize which staircases to take. One wrong turn meant being hopelessly lost for hours.

During her time in Calcutta and Tangiers, Doris began to feel that she needed more formal training and decided to pursue a master's degree in Library Science. She was accepted at Columbia University's renowned library school, and told me that the professors there were some of the very best and that she truly enjoyed studying. Her father's printing business gave her an appreciation for beautiful, artistic books. Thus, it is not surprising that her favorite class there was History of Books. She was at Columbia from January 1954, until June 1955.

She followed up her formal training with a supervised internship at the Brooklyn Public Library, which gave her the confidence that she could find any information she wanted and could help others to do the same. She also escaped a very harrowing experience unscathed. Her story dispelled in me any remaining naïve idealistic notions that all library patrons seek truth, beauty, and justice. What follows are her own words, which she sent me via e-mail:

" I had been assigned as Librarian-in-charge to a Branch of same located very near Coney Island. It was an era when boys were wearing black leather jackets and carried switchblades. My little library accommodated all school students after school. They literally piled in every afternoon noisily occupying the various study tables and simultaneously disturbing other library patrons. This always required that I request they be quiet -- or leave the library. Somewhere along the line, I had learned that when dealing with students like this -- or anyone at all -- one never touches the person or persons whom you are addressing. Just be firm. It never worked fully, but was always necessary.

One day, I had just gone thru this routine when one tall handsome dark haired chap left his seat, came over to me as I heard the swish of his switchblade and the point rested against my stomach as he said, "who says?" My entire life flashed through my mind as I considered its end if he decided to thrust that blade into me. But I knew from daily observation that he could not be a killer. As I stood facing him with arms by my side and my 5'5" eye level met his 6" above mine, I managed to say, "I do." There were a few tense seconds that seemed like an eternity, he lowered the blade, turned and left the library.

I did not see him again for several days. When he finally re-appeared, we looked at each other and smiled. End of episode, but a scary one."

In 1956, she embarked on a new phase of her career as an Army Special Services Librarian, and she was entrusted with tremendous responsibility from early on. Over a period of ten years she was assigned to Germany, France, Hawaii, and Korea. She spent her remaining eleven years of government service at Carlisle Barracks. From 1956 to 1964, she held four different positions within USAREUR (United States Army, Europe).

From 1956-1958, she was assigned as Post Librarian, supervising a total of seven libraries in Chinon, Rochefort-sur-Mer, and La Rochelle, France. She lived in Royan, on the Gironde River, and traveled by ferry to one of her libraries, which was on the North end of the Bordeaux peninsula, She often brought her tent and sleeping bag along because she sometimes worked later than the departure of the final northbound ferry. The volunteer soldiers who assisted her there usually shelved the new books properly, however they often hid the accompanying catalog cards that they were supposed to have filed. She would find them and quietly file them herself; while crossing her fingers that no one would drop by to conduct a surprise walk-through inspection.

The French she learned in high school helped her to get along with the local people, who preferred not to speak English if they didn't have to. Sometimes she expressed herself so well that people addressed her as if she were a native speaker and she would then have to ask them to speak more slowly. 1958 she was transferred and promoted to Assistant Reference Librarian in Germany, doing extensive searching in reference guides for HQ USAREUR and eleven other regional centers. She also assisted in all other phases of library work, such as cataloging and acquisitions.

She returned to France in 1961, where as a cataloger, she supervised a library service center for thirty-five libraries and eleven deposit centers, and performed centralized cataloging and classification. She and the nine French local nationals under her supervision received, processed and distributed 2000-7000 new books monthly. She maintained a stock of 25,000 books and was also responsible for accountable records and locator files.

While overseas, she traveled at every opportunity, and it was during her second French posting, that she decided to go to Africa on a foot safari. As she, her tour group and their two African gunners hiked uphill through a dense jungle trail, a huge elephant appeared in front of them, raised his trunk and big ears and let out a deafening roar. They were terrified, because all they could see was the dense jungle vegetation and a giant elephant towering over them, with his ears blocking their view of the sky. The gunners evaded him by racing up the hill, leaving the hikers to fend for themselves. Doris escaped by running back in the direction they came from until she reached a clearing, a safe distance away from the elephant -- it was the fastest she had ever run in her life.

She was reassigned to Germany where she was eventually promoted from GS-9 to GS-11, and was a supervisory Reference Librarian. She had an additional librarian on her staff plus four assistants. There, she determined policies for USAREUR wide reference and inter library loan services, and provided specialized reference and research services throughout USAREUR.

In 1964 she moved to Haleiwa (Ha-lay-ee-va), Hawaii, on Oahu's North Shore, near Sunset and Pipeline beaches, which boast some of the world's tallest surfing waves. She was a technical advisor to the Special Services Officer at USARHAW (US Army, Hawaii) and Tripler General Hospital. Doris formulated plans, policies and procedures for the operation of six libraries and sixteen deposit collections, which were run by five other librarians. She prepared budgets, managed personnel and served as the Librarian Career Program Coordinator. On occasion, she traveled by Air Force Helicopter from her headquarters at Schofield Barracks to satellite libraries on Hawaii (The Big Island), Kauai, Maui and Molokai. She worked with excellent people, such as Fran O'Halloran, who was there for many years.

For Doris, the best part of living in Hawaii was the easy informal lifestyle, and the multicultural environment. Hawaii is a melting pot of people from many different ethnic backgrounds. Hawaiians, Japanese, Chinese, Samoans, Koreans, Filipinos, Portuguese, African Americans and Caucasians all seem to be able to live and work together with minimal strife between groups. Of course, whites are in the minority there and are commonly referred to as "hauoles," (how-lees) which is the plural form of the Hawaiian word for newcomer. We exchanged notes and "talked story" (an island expression) about Hawaii a bit more before moving on to Korea.

Doris' last overseas assignment was in Korea at Eighth Army Headquarters, where she was initially an Assistant Staff Librarian and was later promoted to Staff Librarian and G12 in November of 1968. As an assistant, she served as a consultant and acquisitions librarian for seventy-two libraries, operated by approximately thirty-five librarians. Even though she lived and was headquartered in Seoul, she often visited her satellite libraries. These support visits even took her to the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) at Panmunjom, which was and still is heavily guarded by American and North Korean Soldiers.

Her libraries were small and contained mostly Encyclopedias and other basic reference materials, plus pocket-sized paperback books, which soldiers could take with them to read on maneuvers. They did not always return them. Prior to her November promotion, Doris noticed that her present supervisor, who was soon to become her predecessor, was not notifying Personnel of the vacancies created by librarians departing Korea. Even after Doris advised her of the anticipated personnel shortage, her boss continued to assume that the positions would automatically be filled. Now Doris was facing a professional dilemma -- her hands were tied until she became the new Staff Librarian and was finally able to request additional librarians. This shortage in staff, her new responsibilities for seventy libraries and thirty-nine deposit collections, plus her support visits to her libraries in the field initially created a hardship for her until the vacant positions were filled.

Doris' father's heart attack in 1969 brought her back to the United States and to the Military History Institute at the Carlisle Barracks Army War College. MHI is the Army's central repository for historical materials on the Army and military affairs. Its holdings of more than eight million items include books, periodicals, military publications, manuscripts, photographs and maps.

She began there as a supervisory librarian in charge of acquisition and cataloging, and established policies, methods and tools required for authority files. Doris' arrival at MHI in 1970 coincided with a deluge of rare books recently donated by private collectors, which had simply been shelved without any accountability or cataloging information. She and her staff meticulously cataloged and classified all of these materials and then labeled them with tags attached to non-acidic string, because using glue would have eventually damaged them.

In 1976, she became the director of Technical Services and guided her staff through many tumultuous changes: three in-house moves, the computerization of MHI, its subsequent membership to OCLC's shared cataloging network, and the adoption of the second edition of the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules. MHI's OCLC affiliation required switching from the Dewey Decimal System of Classification to the Library of Congress System. Thus, the cataloging and classification records that she and her staff had prepared now had to be redone under the new system.

When I asked Doris which of her accomplishments she is most proud of, she modestly responded that while she hadn't done that much, just to do what she did is in itself an achievement. Sadly, her father died at eighty-nine, just two days after her retirement, however her mother, who was an accomplished artist by that time, lived to be 100 years and seven months. Mrs. Hunter's special tribute to her daughter is a portrait she painted of her in her Special Services librarian's uniform.

Since her 1939 wartime trip into the heart of Europe, Doris wanted nothing but to travel. Choosing to live abroad, separated from her family was a bold decision for a woman of her time. Remaining unmarried to be free to totally dedicate herself to her profession was most unusual for a woman of her generation. In spite of living during a time when career options for women were limited, she became successful because she chose her own path and in doing so found great satisfaction.

The story of Doris' remarkable life and career does not need an ending nor should it have one. We can only speculate as to the number of people who may have later come to the United States from Calcutta because they read about America in her library. No doubt, many American soldiers stationed overseas were able to successfully pursue GEDs and other forms of continuing education because of the libraries there, and the reference assistance she provided them. Finally, the meticulous technical services that she and her staff provided during her years at MHI have made numerous historic materials available to many scholars and researchers.

Next August 24 Doris will be eighty years old. She enjoys working at her computer, and keeps up with her three nephews via e-mail. Her life is an active one, but she enjoys a more leisurely pace now. In fact, she wonders how she found the time to work for so many years. Twice a week, she plays nine holes of golf with her friends for fun, and for the health benefits of the exercise she gets from walking and pulling her own cart. Though technology now dominates today's information profession and adapting to change has become a way of life for librarians, Doris Hunter's integrity, professional ethics and commitment to excellence are the qualities of librarianship that will hopefully endure. She is a role model for what is truly important -- the rest can be learned.