Chess in My Life

13-14 January 1946

Hello again,

   That double date is no joke – neither is it midnight. Had I written yesterday, I would have been uncertain of today – now I am unsure of the day! I haven’t begun to adhere to a new hindu [?] philosophy – it’s the truth. About two hours ago we crossed the international dateline (180°) so now it’s a combination of Sunday and Monday. Yesterday was Saturday – tomorrow is Tuesday!

   Nothing at all out of the way has happened lately – we’re sailing along, but still have plenty to go. I played chess with the doctor the last two nights – I won four out of six – and am again getting into  the game after quite a rest.

   We’ve been working, moving, eating & sleeping since the other side [of the sheet] was written – but nothing much of anything else has happened. They’ve finally decided to pay us five bucks, so that we have at least a little money in our pockets. That will keep us pretty busy – making out lists and stuff.

   It’s been calm – so even the sea had no excitement to offer.

   When we get to Shanghai, I want to send home a nice part of my sea bag – there’s a lot of stuff in it that I don’t need! This way it just adds to all the things I have to carry around. Hope I get the chance! I’ve been taking a few pictures – but nothing came out very well – experiments – shooting from the moving train etc. – I’ll send those too, as soon as I get the chance. That’s about all I can think of for tonite----------. Bye Rudy

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   Throughout the Navy letters my chess playing is mentioned on and off. I had a pocket set—and still have it—with my last name over-boldly stamped on its blue cover; it was in use from boot camp days until I was discharged. I don’t remember just how I got started on chess, though I do recall that my father taught me, an extended interaction with him that was quite rare. I started playing (and don’t remember with whom) and then joined the chess club at Brooklyn Tech, one of my few extra-curricular activities in high school.

   I don’t recall that chess played much of a role during my studying years, though I vividly remember one occasion. A good college friend, Douglas Davis, a balletomane, came to Fannia’s and my house (in the late fifties), for us all to go to dinner and then to a performance of the City Ballet. Fannia, having just come from work, took a shower, so I asked Doug, of whom I vaguely knew he played, whether he wanted to play a game of chess. He demurred, but gave in when I pleaded.  I was mated very fast, never knowing what hit me.

   I played on for many more years and enjoyed it, but never studied chess, not even reading an article now and then. Not surprisingly, I never got any better. When, a few years later, I joined the faculty of San Francisco State, I found a chess partner at my level, another SF State newcomer, Daniel Gerould, a professor of comparative literature who later became quite distinguished. We played so often that, craftsman that I then was, I made a chess table for our use—still extant and now standing to the right of the desk on which this is being written.

   That time, now more than half a century ago, was the last period when I played more than now and then with this partner or that. Fairly recently I taught the game to my grandson Max and found a very nice set for him. But to date it didn’t “take,” so with him chess has not reached the amateur level. But he is young; it still might.