And Calkins' keen sense of what is necessary at the movement dictated much of his own activity last month. Last President Pusey, he thought that the University was threatened. Unlike Pusey, he knew what to do about it. The Corporation had to emerge from its wraps, and so Calkins made himself visible and available.

VIII

THERE IS a danger in all this of making Hugh Calkins seem abstract and disembodied. In running through his career as a school crusader, his theories on dissent, his theme of practicality, it is easy to forget that he is a man who sometimes wears how ties, who has a station wagon with a "Go Browns" sticker on the back window, who has little children who can be less than charming.

There is also a danger of taking Calkins a little too seriously as a political figure. Granted, he was made a large name for himself in Cleveland, and may have plans for the future. But some of the fantasies that run through the heads of his Cleveland admirers are clearly out of order.

There are people in Cleveland who say that Hugh Calkins is the logical next man in the John Kennedy-John Lindsay succession. That is dubious at best. He has the same liberal sentiments as Kennedy and Lindsay. He has the same sense of political practicalities. But he lacks what we have cloyingly come to call the "charisma" of a bona fide political hero.

Calkins is a friedly man. He is young, handsome, tall, and slim. But his pants are sometimes baggier than a hero's should be. A bronze Calkins bust or a lacquered Calkins face on the bottom of a party dish would not look quite the same as a Kennedy face did in the same circumstances.

Fortunately, Calkins probably realizes all this. He will never be a Lyndon Johnson, frustrated because not worshipped. He would probably laugh if he heard about the Kennedy-Lind-say-Calkins analogies that float around in corners of Cleveland.

IX

THERE IS probably no one--not even Calkins himself--who is sure just how long Calkins will serve on the Corporation. He is theoretically appointed for life, and he still has 25 years until he reaches the normal retirement age of 70. But Calkins said soon after he was appointed that he did not imagine he would "stay on forever."

Calkins tells a semi-plausible story about his entry into the Corporation, claiming that it was mostly an accident. He says he became an Exeter Trustee because Exeter decided it needed a Midwesterner to round out its board. He met fellow Trustee Thomas Lamont, who was also a Corporation member. Lamont groomed him for service in the Associated Harvard Alumni, and eventually Calkins became a Midwestern representative on the Overseers' Board. Calkins winds up his story by saying that when Lamont died, he was an old friend who was ready as successor.

Calkins tells that story humorously, and it is hard to say how much is true. But if Calkins wins the political prominence that some Clevelanders say he is heading for--either through the kind of accident described in the Lamont story or through the kind of conscious design the story may conceal--he will obviously have to give up the Corporation. What kind of effect Calkins may have had on the Corporation by the time that happens--if it ever happens--is still hard to say