had ten days to get to Ithaca, find a job, and register at the university. I had no idea how I was going to raise the tuition money. The tuition at Cornell was only two hundred dollars a trimester, but I needed to pay it in advance before I could register for classes.
Upon arrival I was introduced to Professor Herbert H. Whetzel, who was the Chairman of the Department of Plant Pathology at the New York College of Agriculture. For many years Professor Whetzel had taken in students who worked at his home and tended his garden. This was a way a student could earn money for room and board and hopefully earn enough extra money to pay for tuition and incidental expenses.
The Prof—as I would come to call him—knew that I was interested in room and board, and it piqued his interest when I told him that I had grown up on a farm. He asked me a lot of questions and I am sure that my marginally acceptable responses had something to do with his offering me the job. He simply turned to me and said, “Son, I think you will do!”
The Prof lived in a modest home very close to the Cornell campus and the Hotel School. I was enthusiastic about the possibility of becoming part of that wonderful family, but there was still one more important thing to be resolved. The Prof threw the key question at me and asked how I was going to pay the tuition. I reached in my pocket and placed all the money I had on the top step of the porch. We counted it together and it came to $11.34.
Turning to me he said, “Look son, I wasn’t talking about your pocket money, I was talking about how much money you have to pay your tuition. You realize, don’t you, that it is due in a few days?”
I responded, “Well, that’s all the money I have, Professor Whetzel.”
He seemed annoyed and impatient with that response. “Well, alright then, where are you going to get the tuition money? How much does your family have?”
“My father doesn’t have any money.”
A bit more annoyed, he said, “Goodness sakes, boy, how do you expect to get into this university?”
“Well, I was told that boys you accepted could work their way through college, so I just assumed that somehow you would help me do that.” He just couldn’t believe that I had come all the way to Ithaca without making arrangements to pay for my tuition.
Nevertheless, this set the Prof’s mind to work. “Well, I know the Dean of the Hotel School, Professor Meek. I’ll have a talk with him about a possible scholarship and tomorrow I’ll introduce you to the treasurer of the university, Edward Graham. We can talk to him about the possibility of obtaining a student loan.” The next day, Professor Meek said he thought he might be able to get me a fifty-dollar scholarship from the American Hotel Association, and Mr. Graham, representing the university, agreed to loan me a hundred dollars. Professor Whetzel made up the difference by lending me fifty dollars, which gave me the needed tuition and the start I needed.
On Saturdays and Sundays, I worked ten to twelve hours a day around the house and in the garden. Turning and screening the compost pile, digging compost into the garden plots, weeding the garden, and mowing the lawn. The Prof loved his garden and he often worked right along with me. His infectious enthusiasm impressed me, and I gradually developed a keen interest in learning how to grow and care for the various plants, vegetables, and fruits which were his pride and joy.
The months I spent in his garden stimulated my interest in horticulture. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, gardening would become an all-consuming hobby for the rest of my life.
I had no way of knowing in 1943 how big the hospitality industry would become. I was standing right in the path of progress at the time. In 1943, the year I arrived at Cornell, the total dollar volume of Eating Place Sales according to the US Department of Commerce was a mere $7.2 billion. By 1995, this would exceed $225 billion, and I couldn’t possibly have imagined that a company I would later cofound would proudly report having over eight thousand restaurants operating in fifty-nine countries around the world and have system-wide sales in excess of $8 billion. By 2018, this would grow to over sixteen thousand restaurants in one hundred countries. I was very fortunate in that I was receiving an excellent education and formal training in an industry that would soon enjoy explosive growth. With World War II in progress during the early 1940s, facilities expansion and new growth remained out of the question until the postwar era began.
By June of 1944 I had finished three academic terms, which meant that I was midway through my sophomore year. Having turned eighteen in May, and knowing that I would be called into service before long, I began to think of enlisting in the United States Navy. From the time of my arrival at Cornell in June 1943 to June 1944 I worked hard and had a strenuous year as a student. I not only worked hard at the Whetzel home, but I had taken on additional jobs in order to earn extra money to pay off my obligations and have some left over to pay for incidental expenses. Money was always a problem at that time.
By June of 1944 I was tired. I had attended classes for the last twelve straight months without a break. My extra jobs were depriving me of sleep, and the weekends working in the garden and around the house added to the pressure. On top of it all was the uncertainty about being called into the service. I had no idea when that would be, but I knew it was coming.
By this time the pace of the war had grown hot and heavy, but it was definitely going in our favor. Tens of thousands of eighteen-year-olds such as myself were either being drafted into the service or voluntarily enlisting in the service of their choice.
I joined the Phi Delta Theta fraternity, much to the disappointment of Professor Whetzel, who didn’t think I could afford to do it. He was probably right on that count, but the fraternity experience did contribute to my college life, and I enjoyed the friends and fellowship that came with it.
Professor Whetzel insisted that I keep a detailed and accurate accounting of the hours worked, the income I earned, and the expenditures I made. He insisted that I reconcile the amount of cash in my pocket against the income I earned, less my out of pocket expenses. This was a regular part of our monthly meeting where we settled on the income I earned less the deductions for the cost of room and board. It was a rather thorough accounting procedure. The Prof gave me a ledger when I first moved into his home and insisted I record all of this information in it.
With mixed emotions, I decided to leave Cornell in June of 1944. I planned to enlist in the Navy and told the Whetzel family of my plans. They seemed to understand. When the final day came, I said a last goodbye, and with a packed suitcase I walked out the door. I then enlisted in the US Navy Air Corps. This branch of the service was glamorized in the propaganda movies, and for a teenager like me it had a lot of romantic appeal! I had to wait for several months until I was called.
During the interim period of late summer and early fall of 1944, I decided to get some practical experience in the hotel field. I needed to do this before I could graduate from Cornell. I took a job at the Hotel Astor in New York City. The famous Astor Bar was a favorite meeting place for members of the armed services on leave in New York City. This spot fronted on Times Square, and it was my job to sit behind the bartenders and ring up bar tabs as they served drinks. The manager of the Astor Hotel was a friend of Professor Meek’s and a big supporter of the Cornell Hotel School. The hotel featured the famous Astor roof garden where some of the big bands played during the war years. In the evening it was usually filled with soldiers, sailors, and marines on leave in the big city. Many of the well-known ballrooms in the major hotels in New York brought in the big bands as drawing cards. Glenn Miller’s orchestra played often at the Cafe Rouge in the Hotel Pennsylvania. Tommy Dorsey introduced a young singer named Frank Sinatra in 1940.
I recall those wonderful hours late at night lying in bed listening to the terrific jazz music that spilled out into the streets and alleys. The period of time between my days at Cornell and entry
