Hell of a Fuss

To his bitterest enemies, he is a publicity-seeking menace; to the casual observer, he seems a harmless buffoon; to the Harvard administration he is an ever-increasing annoyance; to the Harvard student, he is the source of a possible riot; but to the citizens of East Cambridge, he is simply "Al," their friend and protector.

The East Cantabridgians have put a lot of faith in Councillor Al Vellucci. Whether they have misplaced it is questionable, but one thing is certain--they could not have picked a better agitator to argue their cause.

Few politicians in the city's history have attained such widespread notoriety as Councillor Vellucci. His sensational proposals last spring to confiscate University's two liquor licenses, and to create a separate "City of Harvard" within the boundaries of Cambridge received publicity in several papers throughout the country and even attracted a CBS-TV cameraman to City Hall for one of the Council meetings. They also, as one might expect, earned him the reputation of a Harvard-baiter.

"But I'm not anti-Harvard," Al insists. "Students often call me up and ask me why I hate Harvard, but I don't. I don't hate anyone."

In answer to his critics, such as Councillor Joseph A. DeGuglielmo '28 who branded him as a publicity-seeker and called his confiscation motion "probably the most asinine proposal ever brought before a legislative body," Vellucci has this to say: "Sometimes administrators become procrastinators--that goes both for Dr. Pusey and for city manager Curry. Sometimes they intend to do something, but they don't get around to doing it. The only way to shake up the administration of Harvard is to use the tactics I have been using."

Although his opponents say this is a rationalization for the defeats his preposterous proposals have suffered, Vellucci claims his tactics have achieved results. "A certain group of people was trying to make me look ridiculous on my confiscation motion last year," he says, "but now Harvard is making an intensive survey of the situation and M.I.T. has built two new parking lots."

Vellucci started his political career using much the same strategy when he ran for the school committee in 1951. By raising a ruckus over "stuffy classrooms" and "lighting so bad it was blinding the kids," Vellucci won himself a post on the committee and was re-elected two years later by an even bigger vote. 'I made a hell of a fuss," Vellucci reminisces. "I ran against professors and seasoned politicians, big businessmen and lawyers, and I beat them all."

His opponents merely smile cynically when they talk about Vellucci and the school committee, however. They refer inevitably to a certain "Family Night" in 1953 when the committee members voted several positions in the school system to their relatives. "But none of them were my relatives," Vellucci insists, "and they wese all highly qualified men with masters and doctors degrees."

According to Vellucci, the school building situation in Cambridge was at a standstill when he decided to run for the committee. Now, however, he claims proudly, Cambridge has one of the biggest school building programs in greater Boston. "And all because I raised hell and started them running around looking into things," he says. "I'm responsible for all this."

The councillor's main support comes from his home area of East Cambridge. Lots of mothers also seem to vote for him because he has championed the cause and saved the eyesight of their children. Moreover, the children themselves, especially the teenagers, aid his cause. "They do a lot of work for me even if they are minors "Vellucci chuckles, "After all, their mothers and fathers can vote even if they can't."

But perhaps the chief reason East Cantabridgians support the councillor is that he is one of them. The factory workers can understand Vellucci, for he has lived much the same kind of life they have. Born in the "Brickbottom" section just across the Cambridge-Somerville line in 1914, he moved to Squires Court in East Cambridge when he was three years old. He went to a Cambridge grammar school, but at fourteen was forced to quit school and find a job when his father died. Although he attended evening high school for a while, he never graduated. "I've done a lot of reading on my own," Vellucci adds, however, "and I've taken correspondence courses on accounting." At present he holds the job of an income tax assessor for the state of Massachusetts.

With such a background, it is understandable that Vellucci is more popular in East Cambridge than such Harvard graduates on the Council as DeGuglielmo and Edward A. Crane '35. The councillor has come to represent the little man in a perpetual struggle with the big callous administrations of Harvard, M.I.T., and the state and city governments. He would also like to extend his friendship to the student body as against the Harvard bureaucracy, although his threats last year to fine every student who parked illegally might seem to belie this.

In support of his "little friends", Vellucci has been very active on the City Council. Elected last year on a platform of "Fifteen Steps to a Better Cambridge," he has striven energetically to carry it out. Seldom does a week go by without the Councillor bringing up some matter, fantastic or otherwise. His most recent activities, besides the parking controversy, include an investigation of the inadequacy of Cambridge police protection and the inoculation of school children with Salk vaccine. "I had the city manager contact Washington to get the vaccine immediately," Vellucci said, "and we completed all the shots before the kids left school for the summer. We were one of the few cities in the country to be done so early."

Whatever one thinks of Vellucci's proposals, the Councillor has definitely become a force to reckon with in the Cambridge community. Whenever Harvard or M.I.T. plans a project which requires any sort of delicate negotiating, the utmost care is taken to shield proceedings from the eye of the Councillor. As one M.I.T. spokesman said recently, "You just can't imagine what a cramp he can put in things when he starts poking around."

Until the parking problem is solved, however, most other University projects seem relatively safe. For the Councillor makes no secret of the fact that he intends to clear that mess up first. "If Harvard doesn't do something soon," he threatens with a smile, "I might support that Professor who suggested they move to Peterborough. He may have come up with the best solution."