He headed down the street to a VFW post which was to be our first stop. Suddenly Vellucci started backing the car up. There was a site he'd forgotten to show us. An old factory building, deserted, stood on the site where M.I.T. will erect a 250-unit project for old people. Vellucci was strangely enthusiastic about it. He dwelled on M.I.T.'s good faith, their genuine concern for the plight of Cambridge.

"They've actually bought the land and now they're seeking funds from the government for construction. M.I.T.'s really moving to help, but Harvard, all they've got are some plans. No land, nothing but some plans they drew up so they wouldn't look bad."

Now we could get on the VFW post, where the people were waiting for Vellucci. We entered the small room, post awards and citations on the front wall, a bar in the corner, Fred MacMurray on the tube across the room. On a table were cold cuts, cheese, rolls, potato salad and a giant cake with written on it. Vellucci insisted we take his picture beside it. For the rest of the evening he was conscious of our cameras, and whenever we focused on him he sensed it and assumed an appropriate pose.

We sat at an empty table. Vellucci brought us sandwiches (he'd made them himself) and drinks and wandered off to talk with people at the other tables. People in the room had noticed us and our cameras but paid us little attention. The tone of the room was like the light, subdued. Big ladies sat talking over their Tom Collinses. Men sat in front of their beers, smoking, talking quietly, staring into space. There weren't many people in the room and there was little of the rally atmosphere that we had expected.

After a while we decided that if we were to meet the people we could not sit on our asses at our own table; so we got up and walked over to a table with five ladies at it.

They invited us to sit down and then they started talking. They wanted to tell us about themselves and what they did. One is the President of the Don Juan's, the Cambridge drum and bugle corps. She and her friend spend most of their time working for the girls, getting uniforms and instruments, scheduling appearances and at the moment searching for an indoor armory where the corps could drill.

"We took the kids off the streets, taught them music and now they're the best in the state. We've got a woman from the New England Conservatory teaching them and she's doing a real good job. It takes a lot of money to keep going. We have cake bakes and spaghetti dinners. Al has helped us a lot, too. Without him we wouldn't be able to do much at all."

The talk turned to Harvard. Harvard is many things to these people. It is the enemy. It swells the population of Cambridge, forcing them to pay higher rents. It evicts them from their homes. It is a threat and it is feared.

It is also part of the American Dream. These women have sons and their sons want to go to Harvard and these mothers want to see their sons make it into Harvard.

Finally Harvard is an employer. (You know those silly signs in the subway. They're real. Cambridge people really do work here.) Mrs. Draper mentioned that her husband is a cook at Harkness, We didn't quite know what to say. Couldn't crack any jokes about the food. All of a sudden the euphoria wore off and we were confronted by the reality, the separation, the barrier between us and them.

We moved to a table across the room where two old Irish ladies sat talking. They both work at Cambridge City Hospital. Mrs. Archcraft dominated the conversation, however.

"Why, you should come take pictures at the hospital. There's so much there, I'll tell you, things you've never seen. Why sure you'd get a lot of good pictures there. Mrs. McClaughlin here she's the pastry cook; she'd show you a lot. It would be great if you'd come take pictures; you really should."

She went on to politics and life.

"Why yes we always vote for Al: he looks out for us. He takes care of his people, and so we work for him and vote for him. He makes sureeverything works smoothly in the community. You need help, you go ask AI. Whether it's a street needs plowing or a child who's sick and needs special help, you out. He pays attention to us all the time, not just around elections. He comes to our weddings, baptisms, parties, comes around to visit just to see how we're doing. He looks out for us and we look out for him.

"I've seen things that would make your head spin. Yes I have, honey, I could tell you things. . . . People here struggling to make a living, to keep their families going. My daughter has a son, has to take him to Philadelphia for those special treatments, you know what I mean. When he was born he. . . well you know they have that special treatment in Philadelphia, involves round-the-clock care. She has to keep taking him back. Costs a lot of money, but oh that little kid, he's so cute, and he smiles. . . Well life's life, that's all."