People: Feb. 12, 1965 | TIME

From West Berlin’s bleak Spandau Prison, an all but forgotten voice was heard. It belonged to Rudolf Hess, 70, who in May 1941, when he was Hitler’s Deputy Führer, flew from Germany to Scotland on a bizarre mission. He begged the British to make peace, but all he did was force Hitler to denounce him as insane, and land himself in a British jail. Hess was sent to Spandau after being convicted of war crimes at Nürnberg, and over the years rumors of madness cropped up again, fed by his refusal to see visitors. His lawyer, whom he finally summoned last week, said that Hess is sane. He wanted to make his will and be assured that his wife and son have adequate means.

“I’ve found joy in anonymity,” purred onetime Presidential Press Secretary Pierre Salinger, 39, taking a moment from his $35,000-a-year job as vice president of California’s National General Corp. to detail all “the nice things about leaving public life.” That was Monday. On Wednesday he confirmed that he was back in politics as head of a Democratic fund-raising outfit called the Golden Bears, where he had to deal with one of the not-so-nice things about public life: the little matter of a $225,000 debt spent while losing the senatorial election to George Murphy.

Comparison shopping is the housewife’s sole-searing equivalent of a bureaucrat’s requesting sealed bids from competing contractors. But there are times when something gets lost in the translation, as Mary Scranton, 46, wife of Pennsylvania’s Republican Governor, found to her sorrow when she submitted a $1,554 bill to the state for some rust-patterned draperies made for her husband’s reception room by a Harrisburg decorator. “Absolutely illegal,” sniffed the auditor general, a Democrat, refusing to pay on grounds that she hadn’t asked for sealed bids. “A bargain is a bargain, and politics is politics,” retorted Mary in a note posted in the capitol pressroom. How right you both are, Governor Bill tactfully concluded and, since he may have to ante up himself, vetoed plans by CBS-TV to screen the draperies for its viewers.

Four-year-olds are loathsome on the slopes. Down the steepest, iciest trails they schuss, knees straight, skis two feet apart—and they never seem to fall down. (How can they, with a center of gravity only inches from the snow?) Nonetheless, adult snow bunnies, floundering out of their sitzmarks on the Abe Ali slopes of the Zagros Mountains, 42 miles from Teheran, cast a friendly eye on one four-year-old skiing in the brilliant sunshine. After all, he was the son of the Shah of Iran, Crown Prince Reza.

Okinawa is no tourist paradise, but womanly Norma Reich, 36, who arrived there Oct. 19 from Manhattan to see her husband, a major in the 3rd Marine Division, likes him so much that she wants to stay there. Try telling that to the Marines, who (unlike the Army and the Navy) regard Okinawa as a combat-ready assignment and limit dependents’ visits to 60 days. So Norma took her 60, then flew to Japan and bounced back on a 60-day tourist visa that expires Feb. 12. The leathernecks are getting pretty chafed about it, but Norma is determined to stay. She even bearded the Marines’ Pacific commander, Lieut. General Victor Krulak, 52 (known fondly to his staff as “The

Brute” and “The Beast”), when he visited the island, stepping out from behind a bush and introducing the third Reich, her six-year-old son David. “You are a good man,” said beauty to the beast. “I was wondering if you could help me stay here.” Er, um, muttered the hapless brute. Give him Montezuma any time.

Ranking high on the Harvard dean’s list, despite an arduous major in “history and lit,” the boy might have aimed for an academic calling like, say, teaching. Instead, he apparently prefers journalism, spent last summer legging it on the Winston-Salem Journal & Sentinel, and now takes over as president of the daily Harvard Crimson, following in the footsteps of such well-known Harvard men as Franklin Delano Roosevelt (’04) and Cleveland Amory (’36). He might even do moderately well in newspapers, since he is Donald E. Graham, 19, eldest son of Katherine Graham, president of the Washington Post, and the late Philip Graham.

Nanorchestes antarcticus, a species of pink mite discovered recently near the South Pole, needs no fur at all to keep warm. But Manhattan’s Mary Sanford, wife of Socialite Stephen (“Laddie”) Sanford, winters at Palm Beach, and Florida this year has been chilly enough to turn even the minks pink. “Your jacket seems to have picked up a glow from your ruby necklace,” Laddie remarked brightly to his wife at Palm Beach’s Poinciana Playhouse, whereupon he learned that his wife’s genuinely rosy wrap was the harbinger of a new fad for pink mink. The skins of the specially mutated minks cost quite a mite ($400 per pelt, and a coat takes 60 pelts), which the average married Homo sapiens may find rather a high level of evolutionary development.

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