The Troublemakers (Contd.)

The isolation wards of the ruffian-troubled New York City school system--its two 700 schools--were back in the news last week, only a fortnight after they were set up to keep hard-to-handle kids off the streets, and embarrassing headlines out of the school officials' hair (TIME, March 17). The incident: at the Greenwich Village school, boys were lined up for a pre-class contraband check. Among ruled-out items: knives, cigarettes, matches (combs--which make effective face-slashers with the teeth broken out--may be banned next). One student, 15-year-old Charles McDougle, was out of line, refused to obey Teacher Edward Carpenter's command to get back in. Then Carpenter put his hand on McDou-gle's shoulder, in what Principal Irving Boroff described later as "a brotherly, positive way." Student McDougle cried, "Nobody touches my clothes!", shoved Carpenter a little, swore a bit, then ran out of the school to stand bewildered on a street corner. Someone called the cops.

"It was a serious blunder," said publicity-sensitive Principal Boroff. "A police car pulled up and we were inundated with reporters trying to make it look like a riot." Most of the papers, it turned out, were at least as factual as Boroff, who insisted to the press that what McDougle had objected to was merely a voluntary unloading of hot cargo, later was overheard to admit that his bad boys were subjected to a thorough shakedown each morning.

At week's end McDougle had apologized and was back in school; he still faced an assault charge filed for disciplinary reasons by unharmed and unangered Teacher Carpenter. The school system, and the press, resumed a quietly concerned watch over the isolation wards.

From Chicago came word of a lad precociously qualified for 700-school attention. Twelve-year-old Robert Merchant Jr., a policeman's son, began pilfering from homes in his neighborhood in 1954. Sometimes he worked alone; sometimes he took his four-year-old brother John along, pushed him through transoms. Once he cracked a gas station, found a pistol, managed to wound himself. Four child-guidance centers in turn worked on Robert, got nowhere. After three years of this, his mother gave up, insisted he was incorrigible and a "pathological liar," should be sent to a reform school. But at Oliver Wendell Holmes Grammar School, Principal Loretta Mulcahy found Robert "sharp" and capable of learning his subjects well, thought there was hope of rehabilitating him. There may still be hope, even now, but the rehabilitation will not be accomplished at the Oliver Wendell Holmes Grammar School. Last week, with John tagging along, Robert broke in, found matches, burned down $400,000 worth of school.

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