"In Common Pursuits"

To those in charge of screening the annual 9,000 applicants for teaching jobs in Cincinnati's public schools, the papers of the clean-cut, 38-year-old Negro seemed in perfect order. True enough, Henry Fordham seemed nervous when interviewed. He was, reported the board of interviewers, "not too coherent," and he used "big words, often incorrectly." But he did have a document to prove that he had a degree from Westminster College in Cochranville, Pa. He had--or so his papers indicated--taught in Newark, Del., and he had testimonials from a John Wagner at Pennsylvania's Lincoln University and from Professor Robert Hillyer of the University of Delaware. The board put him down as "slightly above average," and when the 1955-56 term began, Henry Fordham found himself teaching mathematics in the Robert A. Taft High School.

His work was only passable, but the teacher-shy high school was delighted to have another math instructor. Fordham moved his family into a house in nearby Hamilton, and his wife Geneva, who also had credentials from Westminster, landed a job in a Hamilton elementary school. For the Fordhams, the future seemed assured--until one day they applied for a small loan at the Household Finance Corp.

No Admittance. In the course of its routine investigation, the finance company wrote Westminster College in Cochran ville, Pa. to learn more about Fordham. Since there is no college of any sort at Cochranville, the letter ended up at the nearest Westminster, in New Wilmington, Pa. Yes, the college said, Henry Fordham had once applied for admission, "but we didn't admit him because of the poor quality of the work represented by his credits." Fordham's documents, complete with a most convincing seal, had nothing to do with that Westminster College.

From Newark, Del., School Superintendent Wilmer E. Shue reported that Fordham "has never taught in our schools." At Lincoln University, President Horace Mann Bond checked into the matter of the testimonial from John Wagner, declared that there was no such person in the phone book and that no one by that name had ever been connected with the university. Professor Robert Hillyer of the University of Delaware, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, said that he had never heard of Henry Fordham.

Do It Yourself. Had the Cincinnati school system been dealing with any other sort of man, the case against Fordham might have ended there. But though found out, Fordham insisted that he had a legal right to his full year's pay. His Westminster documents, he added, were not really forgeries, for he himself had created the college with seat at Cochranville, Pa., and, had given himself and his wife degrees. To back up his argument, Fordham turned to the dictionary, where a college is defined as "a collection, body, or society of persons engaged in common pursuits." He, his wife and three children, said Fordham, were obviously just that.

Last week the state board of education was planning proceedings to revoke the certificates of both Henry and his wife. But the state attorney general's office was dubious about the question of their salaries. From a legal point of view, it seemed, it was just barely possible that a college could indeed be defined as a collection, body, or society of Fordhams "engaged in common pursuits."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.