Rubber Hunt

Harold Ickes made no bones about it: the Administration's rubber drive was a disappointing failure. He advised Franklin Roosevelt that collections to date totaled 334,293 tons-only 5.07 lb. for each of 131,669,000 U.S. patriots, with just four days to go.

Pondering reasons for the drive's widespread flop. Ickes snapped: "We suspect that people are hoarding rubber and maybe even people in official life are hoarding." His companion. Bill Boyd of the Petroleum Industry War Council, shook his head, too: "If there had been heavier hitting on the part of the public. . . ."

Officialdom had done its best. On Ickes' plea and advice to learn to spit straight, Federal agencies donated spittoon mats; the Senate threw in 500, the House, 1,200. Others had done yeoman work: national committees tried new ballyhoo; uniformed Boy Scouts stood long hours at service stations begging motorists to give up rubber mats from rear compartments; the American Legion staged drives; women's clubs formed telephone brigades; appeals were made to crowds at ball games. But all this was far from enough. Too many Americans had not bothered to rummage their houses for rubber.

States that should have given the most gave the least: New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Alabama, the District of Columbia. The five highest contributors on a per-head basis were Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Washington. The New Jersey per capita average was a mere 1.67 lb.; Nevada patriots averaged 25.65 lb.

To Elliot E. Simpson, counsel for the House committee investigating the rubber situation, the pity of it all is that somewhere in the U.S. there are 10 million tons of finished rubber goods and scrap rubber, much of which could be turned in.

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