Squawk Valley

One international event that never appears on any Olympic program could be called berating-the-organizers. Every four years, disgruntled officials around the world find some reason or other to mount un-Olympian attacks on their host's preparations. Last week, with the 1960 Winter Olympics coming up this month in California's Squaw Valley, it was the U.S.'s turn to get its lumps.

In France, Dr. Jean Carle, chief of the mission to Squaw Valley, exploded at the crowded accommodations. "Can you imagine four women living together in one cramped room for a month? Eh bien, non! Ridiculous!" He also fretted about the disconcerting effect of importing big-time vaudeville acts to the valley: "How are we going to put our young men and women to bed at an early hour if there's a chorus line and Frankie Sinatra singing across the road?"

Nor could Europeans stomach U.S. plans to have Walt Disney stage the games' pageantry (fireworks, 20,000 balloons, an orchestra of 1,285, a chorus of 2,645 singing the opening hymn These Things Shall Be). Harrumphed Switzerland's Otto Mayer, chancellor of the International Olympic Committee: "All this hoopla has little to do with the Olympic spirit, and I've wired the U.S. accordingly." Shrilled Zurich's Sport: "Assigning the Games to Squaw Valley was a big mistake. The committee fell for the big bluff of smart American businessmen."

Unkindest cut of all came from French Skiing Official Robert Faure, who warned darkly that competitors might well be buried under the "astonishing snowfalls." Cried Faure: "The history of America's march westward is full of tragic adventures of pioneers perishing in the snow."

Back at Squaw Valley, long-suffering Managing Director H. D. Thoreau (a great-grandnephew of the Walden Pond naturalist) said with a sigh that 80% of the female competitors will be housed in pairs, the rest three to a room. Said he: "In other Olympics, I've heard of competitors being billeted in schools and dormitories." What was more, while each country paid its own transportation and housing in previous Winter Olympics, Squaw Valley is laying out a subsidy of $500 per competitor.

Thoreau had other troubles at home. With expenses running up, the committee was forced to ask the California legislature to add another $1,000,000 to the $8,000,000 the state had already sunk in Squaw Valley. Worst yet, only 135,000 tickets had been sold of a capacity total of 385,000. Innkeepers and landlords were cutting prices (e.g., February rental of a cabin with room for 14 was down from $4,000 to $1,900) as the storm clouds gathered over Squawk Valley.

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