Old writings of mine: 2019

From the Winter 2019 issue of the Jefferson County Historical Quarterly.

The Story of TAPES and Carl Bell

Of Pine Bluff

By David Trulock

Fifty years ago, a group of volunteers recruited by Carl Bell, a pump and pipe salesman at Soltz Machinery & Supply in Pine Bluff, was in the early stages of recording and sending taped music to soldiers in military hospitals in Vietnam and elsewhere. The volunteers loaned their albums to Carl, who recorded them onto blank tapes. Volunteers also donated money to buy blank tapes in bulk quantities and to pay for shipping of recorded tapes.

Carl began taping in 1969 using 3-inch reels, but later changed over to cassettes. He and his volunteers became known as “TAPES of Pine Bluff, Arkansas.” In the early 1970s, TAPES sent thousands of tapes of all types of music—rock, country-western, folk, soul, blues, classical, “easy-listening”—to military hospitals and drug treatment centers not only in Vietnam, but also in Guam, Okinawa, Taiwan, the Philippines, and South Korea. The USS Sanctuary (a hospital ship) and Navy hospitals in San Diego and Oakland, California, were also recipients of tapes from TAPES.

I joined the group in early 1971, when I was in the 11^th grade at Pine Bluff High School. Carl and his wife, Jane Glasscock Bell, had moved to Pine Bluff from Shreveport in 1953, and had become friends with my grandparents, Walter Jr. and Frances Andrews Trulock. We were all members of First Presbyterian Church. My grandfather knew I listened to a lot of music and I had albums to loan. Later, my younger brothers also loaned albums to TAPES.

Carl was prolific in writing letters of all kinds, including personal notes, lists of particular albums requested by hospitalized soldiers, and updates on the number of tapes sent out and where they were sent. He also provided members of the group with photocopies of thank-you notes he received from chaplains, Red Cross officials, and the soldiers themselves. He TYPED all the letters, lists, and updates on a manual typewriter, making multiple carbon copies in the process. Thinking about this today, I realize typing letters was one way for him to pass the time while he was taping.

“Sending 2,884 Tapes to ‘Nam and the World”

One of his updates during the early days of TAPES was a three-page, single-spaced description of the work done by the group up to the end of August 1972. (Coincidentally, that’s when I turned 18 and had to register for the draft. I wasn’t drafted, and don’t recall being very worried about it, maybe because of a high lottery number, or just fewer people being drafted by then, or both.) The title Carl gave to his summary is “The Story of TAPES: Sending 2,884 tapes to ‘Nam and the World.” He had a rather quirky way of writing, but that won’t show up until later in this story. Here’s the first paragraph of his summary:

It all started in Danang during June of ’69, when the Senior Chaplain, Lieutenant Commander Glenn Thomson, told a doctor that they had six Panasonic 3-inch reel tape players, but no tapes for the patients. “We” were volunteered although we’d been away from music for quite a few years, and never taped. So, the portable stereo turntable was adapted so it would play into a 3-inch Craig machine. Also adapted the TV and a radio to tape programs. A station in Little Rock put on a special program for us—an hour covering every request we’d had from ‘Nam, as did a country/western station in Jacksonville, Arkansas.

The doctor mentioned near the beginning of the paragraph was Carl’s son, Carl Bell, Jr., known as Rick, a Navy surgeon assigned to the Navy hospital in Danang. At the time Carl wrote the summary, Rick had just returned to Pine Bluff with his new wife Lee, a nurse from Taiwan, to open his own practice. He later worked as an emergency room doctor at Jefferson Regional Medical Center.

Rick’s return home after four years was probably the reason his dad deemed it appropriate to provide a summary of the work TAPES had done up to that point. After noting that 300 tapes (3-inch reels) were sent to the Navy hospital in Danang before it closed in 1970, and that most of those tapes were of inferior quality due to the improvised setup for recording them, Carl wrote:

They did get some good tapes as Sue Trulock loaned me her 230 Sony R/R … but I’d break out in a sweat when using her equipment, so I bought a 230 myself—seeing there was a future in our “business”. Over one million feet of tape has gone across the heads on that Sony reel/reel machine. We now have a nearly new turntable, very good receiver/amplifier, and a Sony/Dolby cassette recorder, all wired to another receiver and speakers in the living room, where my wife can tune in or out—mostly out, with all that rock music!

The Dolby-B noise reduction system—which eliminates the high-frequency “hiss” that was characteristic of cassette recordings at the time—had just been introduced in the stereo cassette recorder market in the early 1970s, and Carl jumped on that bandwagon without hesitation. Advent, the company that made the famous Advent speakers and a high-quality manual turntable was the first to make a cassette recorder with Dolby-B noise reduction, in 1970. Sony and other companies were quick to follow, however. [Correction: the "high-quality manual turntable" wasn't made by Advent, it was the AR turntable, made by Acoustic Research, but Henry Kloss was the audiophile genius behind the products of Advent and AR, as well as others he founded later.]

Taping for TAPES

At the time Carl sent out his three-page summary to his contacts at military hospitals and at the Red Cross (with copies sent to members of TAPES), I was entering Hendrix College as a freshman, and had received as a high school graduation present from my parents a stereo system I’d picked out. It included a Sony cassette deck with Dolby-B, although I wasn’t able to get the top-of-the-line model that Carl bought for TAPES. With this equipment, I went from loaning albums to making cassette tapes directly from my albums in my dorm room.

When I let Carl know I could make tapes myself, he sent me the letter below. I’d previously asked him how to spell Rick’s wife’s name, so that’s what he’s referring to in the second sentence of the first paragraph. Also, Raley’s House of Music, at 619 Main St., was owned by B. J. and Havis Raley, whom Carl refers to collectively as “Raley”.

21 September

Hi’, Podner =

As soon as I recover from shock, will tell you just how much all of us appreciated your nice letter. Oh, it's “Lee”.

Looks like you're going first class, so we'll let you tape a wee bit for the Syndicate. I’m glad you did get the equipment outlined, and don't ever buy anything but the best from here on out. “Starters” just won't get it, as we always go up and that costs more money. I read every word in material sent, but I'm broke. The real list will be here in Rick’s last shipment, if and when it arrives: Taiwan prices on Sony, Panasonic, Marantz, and anything else you want. But, I've come out like a rose in dealing with Raley, as his repairs and help have offset quite a few fast bucks. He also loaned us over 200 albums off #1 shelf. True, I get treatment reserved for a few as he just couldn't loan out albums and still be in business. He didn't do it for me —did it for what I was doing.

I'm enclosing the master list of cassettes available, and would like for you to mark what albums you have and can handle. Plus, asking Jim Kennedy to mark his list — if he'll loan them to you or come and help tape. Please send it back after marked and I'll put DT and JK by your music available, as I'm doing on Tommy Brown’s collection. Then, when I get the requests marked on list being returned by Red Cross, U. S. Army Medical Center, Okinawa, I can make a list of your and Jim’s and send to you for recording on cassettes I'll send/tomorrow.

That hospital is a whopper, and they are delighted to hear that they can get cassettes for patients, and they have the players ready.

I'm sending you tomorrow via insured parcel post:

30 - C-60 tapes to start

60 - white labels to attach

30 - "Tapes" labels for side one of tape

30 - Poly boxes

1 - pen with waterproof ink

In event you've forgotten, I'll fix one tape like they want them. The RC folks say if Tapes’ label is on the white cassette label they don't walk, because when you remove the label it shows.

Good luck = thanks for taking the time = (signed) Carl Bell

Besides Jim Kennedy, Tommy Brown, and me, Jeff Smith from Pine Bluff was another Hendrix student who helped by loaning albums and making tapes. (Tommy and Jeff are longtime readers and supporters of the Quarterly.)

When Carl sent me the letter, he also sent me his three-page update. Here’s some more from that summary, which is dated 7 September 1972:

Before leaving Danang, Chaplain Thomson turned us over to Father Shamus Loftus at 95^th Evacuation Hospital, as they were handling patients for Army, Navy, Marines, and what have you. We furnished them 120 more tapes—7” reels and cassettes … .

Then, Navy Hospital at Guam came into the picture. One of the men from nearby Grady, Arkansas, stepped on a mine at Danang and was sent there. His uncle told us about him, so we wrapped him up with everything we could beg, borrow, or steal. The Red Cross then set up a tape library, and we have furnished them 351 tapes to date. We went to cassettes in December 1970.

Admiral James Kelly, then Chief of the Navy Chaplains in Washington, suggested Navy Hospital at Oakland—long-term patients. We’ve sent them 407 tapes. Best thing we heard from there was they lashed 40 amputees in wheelchairs in back of trucks, drove them up to the mountains, and they killed 20 deer for the hospital barbecue!

At the same time, Admiral Kelly suggested the USS Sanctuary (AH-17) in Danang Harbor. Chaplain Francis Craven wrote back we were an answer to a prayer, as they didn’t have cassettes for the patients aboard. They had reel-to-reel tapes for crew and officers, but nothing for on the wards. We got our tails in high gear during December 1970, and got them 200 cassettes before they left Danang in May 1971 to be decommissioned. …

When USS Sanctuary headed for home, they got us up a plaque and mailed from Hawaii, from officers, crew, and patients. Father Craven got a list of Army hospitals in ‘Nam from Martha Royse [of the Red Cross], so we wrote them, getting ten quick replies—“no tapes.” That seems to be the stock reply, and cannot understand why someone didn’t come up with tapes long before 1969. We understand radios have trouble down in the holds of ships, and around hospitals, so tapes are the thing for on the wards. We’ve found out what it means when a fella gets a tape of his favorite music, whether it’s rock, country/western, popular, soul, blues, spirituals, classical or opera.

We now have over eighty 7-inch master reels with 12 albums or 8-tracks to the reel, about 960 selections … .

I guess most people reading this, but not all, remember having 8-track tapes. Some people may even remember having their own reel-to-reel recorders and players. A few albums were still available in reel-to-reel format in the early seventies—mainly classical music—and Carl was able to record from those also. The reel-to-reel format fell out of fashion after Dolby noise reduction for cassettes became popular.

Those of us taping at Hendrix for the “syndicate” were mainly recording our own LPs that Carl already had on his 7-inch master reels. Our purpose was to save him time. He sent us the master list, and we picked out the ones we could record onto the blank 60-minute or 90-minute cassettes he provided. We then labeled and boxed them, and would mail or take them to him in Pine Bluff. One other person, Tom Hutchings, a junior at Pine Bluff High School, was doing the same thing at that time, which was probably the peak year of TAPES activity.

Contributors to TAPES

Among the things Carl included in his September 1972 three-page summary were lists of TAPES’ financial supporters and of people loaning albums, and a short comment on why TAPES was going to continue what it was doing even though the war was said to be winding down:

1972 contributors = Russell Law, Conroe, Texas; Miss Gladys Cole, Shreveport, Louisiana; Chester Perkins and Peg and Seth Keller, Laconia, New Hampshire; Joe Taylor, Wheeling, West Virginia; N. R. PA. C. 9-5, Milwaukee — the Navy Reserve, Public Relations; Mr. & Mrs. Walter Trulock Jr, Mrs. W. A. Barrow, Billy Bellamy, Mr. & Mrs. Jack Hatcher, Mrs. Jim Kennedy, Elizabeth Nunn, all of Pine Bluff — and Margaret Hutchings, also of Pine Bluff, who just gave us 175 cassettes.

Those loaning material for us to put on master reels for future cassettes: Ken Turner, Jim Kennedy, David Trulock, Tommy Brown, Pat Calkins, Raley’s House of Music, Dr. Robert Nixon, Bob Nixon, Jack Hatcher, Jr., Mr. and Mrs. Kayo Harris, Lt. Vernon Finley, Joe Faucett, Tom and Ann Hutchings, and Jane Bell . . . . . . Pat Brown’s 7” open reels of popular and classical music . . . . . . and great Christmas tapes.

1972 has been our biggest year — could double number of tapes sent any prior year; and they say things are unwinding! None of us feel our job has been finished . . . . . . . . . or even close to the end of the line. Too many fellas in hospitals . . . . . . . . not back home as yet.

Finally, here’s a thank-you letter, one of many written to Carl, thanking the supporters of TAPES. It mentions a couple of supporters’ names not mentioned above. The letterhead says “The American National Red Cross, Naval Hospital Long Beach, California 90801,” and the letter is dated 20 April 1972:

“Dear Tapes Friends:

“Still they come—the tapes, that is, and each day more and more patients are ‘discovering’ their favorites. We now have 4 cassette players and all are in use most of the time.

“‘Mr. Tapes’ through all of you is doing such a tremendous job of keeping a wonderful variety of tapes, and correspondence, coming that we are continually amazed. To all of the people who have shared their recordings — Jim Kennedy, the Browns, Hatchers, Mrs. Bell, Pat Calkins, the Harris’s, D. Trulock, Jack Voris, Dr. Nixon, Lt. Finley, and certainly Judy [Carl and Jane’s daughter] and Raley’s House of Music — thanks! Attached is a checked list of tapes that our patients have indicated they want you to put on your list when time and opportunity allow for more recordings.

“Of course, the above wouldn’t be possible if there weren’t people like the Kellers, Russell Law, LCDR Blomgren, Mr. Bellamy, Mrs. Barrow, Mrs. Trulock and Mrs. Bell who round up the blank cassettes for the recordings . . . . money, time and interest is never ending it seems. Big bouquets to you all!

And to Tommy Brown and Carl Bell who do the ‘tuneful mechanical work.’ You are great—and very busy no doubt. Deepest appreciation to you.

“We received the ‘Monkey Business’ calendar and it hangs in the recreation lounge on the Repose — they get a lot of laughs from it.

“Just talked with a young Army patient who recently arrived here from Vietnam. He did not come back as a patient, but has since had a broken pelvis due to a vehicle accident here in California—so bed rest is the ‘medicine’ and today he is well armed with tapes for the next few days.

“There should be more letters from the fellows—they talk about doing it but sometimes are slow to follow through—you know how it is.

“Anyway, it’s good to talk with all of you and to know you are in the ‘cheering section’ for the hospitalized men and women. THANKS A MILLION.

“Sincerely,

(signed) Martha L. Royce

Hospital Field Director”

After Vietnam

A peace agreement between the United States and North Vietnam was signed and American prisoners of war were released in January 1973 (although, of course, the war between North and South Vietnam didn’t end until 1975). After U. S. soldiers left Vietnam, Carl continued sending tapes to military hospitals in the U.S. and overseas. In April 1973, he mailed to TAPES supporters a list of hospitals that tapes had been shipped to so far that year. A total of 315 tapes had been sent to: Clark Air Force Base, the Philippines; Navy hospitals in Guam, Long Beach, and San Diego; the Army Medical Center in Okinawa, the Army Hospital in Seoul; and, also in South Korea, the 43^rd Surgical Field Hospital (a MASH unit).

My main memory of visiting Carl at his and Jane’s home at 2105 Oak Street in Pine Bluff is of sitting in a chair in his bedroom where his taping equipment was, while he lounged crossways on his neatly made-up bed smoking a cigarette (with an ashtray beside him) while we talked.

Carl and Jane were both longtime smokers, and both suffered from health problems as a result. They eventually quit, but at some point Jane had to have one lung removed, and in 1992, Carl suffered a stroke that made it difficult for him to talk—he couldn’t quite put the words together quickly or correctly. Oddly enough, judging from his smile and general attitude, he seemed happier after his stroke than in the few years before it. He died in 1994 and Jane died in 2002.

In 1944, when he was 34, Carl—who had registered for the draft in October 1940—was called up and received basic training at the Naval Training Center in San Diego. Afterwards he was assigned to the Naval Supply Depot at Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania (where he got to know Seth Keller). In his TAPES summary written in September 1972, after noting that 188 tapes had been sent to the Naval Hospital in San Diego, he makes a comment in his typical abbreviated style about Navy boot camp: “I was at Boot in Dago in 1944, and they never lulled me to sleep with a tape of my favorite music! Only music I heard was CADENCE!”

(Published in the Fall 2016 issue of the Jefferson county Historical Quarterly.)

Family Photos from Fifty Years Ago:

The Free Bridge and Arkansas River

By David Trulock

This article connects Arkansas River history with my family history by showing a few photos taken in the fall of 1966 by my father, Walter N. Trulock, III. Besides showing Jefferson County’s Free Bridge (1914-1972) in the background, the photos are significant because they were taken two years before the first stage of the McClellan-Kerr system of locks and dams was completed.

The notable features of the river are the small whirlpools that indicate a swift flow, even for this fairly low-water stage, and the large sandbars on both sides. Without the modern riverbank reinforcements, the transmission line tower, and the bridge itself, the river in these photos would look much like it did to the Native Americans who fished and hunted here for hundreds of years before European explorers arrived.

It’s also clear from these photos why dredging and “snagging” were commonplace activities along the river, starting in the early days of steamboat traffic in the 19^th century. The unpredictable depth of the water caused by shifting sandbars and the equally unpredictable location of new and possibly submerged obstructions were constant problems for riverboats. The river was the “highway” for commerce and mass transportation, so shoring up the riverbank and keeping the channel open for navigation were necessary activities.

The River in Modern Times

According to the online Encyclopedia of Arkansas article on the McClellan-Kerr Arkansas River Navigation System, work on the first lock and dam in Arkansas started in 1958 at Dardanelle, and the first stage of system, from the Mississippi River to Little Rock, opened on October 4, 1968, with the first commercial barges docking at the Port of Little Rock on January 4, 1969. The entire system of seventeen locks and dams between the Mississippi River and Catoosa, Oklahoma, opened on December 30, 1970.

Besides the problem of keeping a channel open during low water stages, the river also posed the problem of economic and physical disaster when there were major floods. The federal government cooperated with cities and states—though sometimes not as much as local citizens hoped for—by financing river maintenance and improvement projects, many of which were related to flood control. The projects were, and still are, under the authority of the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers.

What about the Port of Pine Bluff? In the fall of 1966, when my father took the two family photos shown here, Pine Bluff’s port was being planned, and excavation had been done on Boyd Point Cutoff a year earlier that resulted in its becoming the permanent navigation channel of the river.

James Leslie, in his book Pine Bluff and Jefferson County, A Pictorial History, described the situation this way: “Because of the Boyd’s Point cutoff, Pine Bluff has the only slack water harbor on the Arkansas River. The body of water formed by diverting the main stream of the Arkansas River east of Pine Bluff was named Lake Langhofer after G. A. Langhofer, a former Port Authority Member and resident Army engineer, who selected the site and drew the port plans in 1966.”

The phrase “diverting the main stream of the Arkansas River east of Pine Bluff” refers to the large-scale excavation of Boyd Point Cutoff in 1965, during construction of the McClellan-Kerr System. The name “Boyd Point Cutoff” was chosen by the Corps of Engineers (as shown on their navigation chart below) rather than the historical name, “Boyd’s Point Cutoff,” used by James Leslie.

One possible point of confusion needs to be addressed in regard to the cutoff. This area of land—which was called a cutoff because it was a “shortcut” the river would take during times of high water—was opened up to the flow of the river during the 1908 flood, when a Corps of Engineers’ levee across it was illegally dynamited, but the river was only temporarily diverted.

After the 1908 flood receded, the river’s main flow, and also riverboat traffic, continued to follow the bend of the river at Pine Bluff. As time passed and the river became less meandering, the bend itself moved further away from the city. Now named Lake Langhofer and containing the Port of Pine Bluff, the old river channel is about three and a half miles from downtown.

My family’s occasional visits to the sandbars near the Free Bridge in the 1960s were due mainly to the fact that my grandparents, Walter N. Trulock, Jr., and Frances Andrews Trulock, owned farmland along the river in that area. Our sandbar outings were like trips to the beach for people living near an ocean, except for the fact that the river then was too dangerous for swimming.

After the locks and dams began operation in 1969-70, the river in this area became more like a lake, and we began using it for swimming, boating, water skiing and fishing—except, of course, during times of high water and dangerous currents. A photo taken this year at approximately the same place as the 1966 photos shows how much the river changed here as a result of the construction of the McClellan-Kerr Navigation System.

David Trulock with Nosey, the family beagle. The fishing pole is another sandbar improvisation, probably without an actual hook and bait attached. Note the turbulence of the water, the large sandbar on the other side of the river, and the use of granite boulders—not native to Jefferson County—to stabilize this sandbar. Due to the use of revetments and pile dikes as seen in these photos, the free-flowing river in 1966 was subject to more human control than the ancient, untamed river known to Native Americans.

Jeff, Steven, and David Trulock playing an improvised baseball game, with an improvised bat (a BB gun) and improvised ball (probably found on the sandbar). The Free Bridge is in the background. (See below for bonus photos not published with article.)

A recent photo taken from approximately the same place as the 1966 baseball game photo. As shown on the Corps of Engineers’ navigation chart below, this is about halfway between Mile 75 and the Jack Bradley Bend Light at Mile Marker 75.6. The tops of pile dikes shown in the 1966 photo can still be seen. The bridge is the one that replaced the Free Bridge in 1972.

Part of a 1990 McClellan-Kerr System chart showing our modern-day Boyd Point Cutoff. The revetments and levee (non-overflow structure) at Yell Bend divert the river into the cutoff and form the northwest end of Lake Langhofer. McClellan-Kerr Navigation System charts are viewable online. The chart for this area of the river is #62.

An Acknowledgment and a Correction

I thank Scott McGeorge, president of Pine Bluff Sand & Gravel Company, for an educational conversation about revetments, pile dikes, and the McClellan-Kerr project. I also need to correct
an error in my previous article, “100 Years Ago: The Free Bridge, the Dollarway, and Arkansas Roads, Part V.” (Summer 2016 issue, page 25.) The old Fort Smith Free Bridge had unused train tracks down the middle, but the streetcars that ran alongside these tracks were not “rubber-tired streetcars,” they were regular streetcars with tracks of their own. – D.T.

More sandbar 1966 family photos