Overload

From the audience in the warm, crowded hearing room came echoing whistles and other "wows!" Someone called out, "We consumers are the ones who pay it too damn much!" there was applause for the heckler and stomping on the floor.

On the bench above, looking down at witness, questioner and spectators, the presiding commissioner reached for a gavel. He tapped with it lightly and commanded, "Order!” the commissioner, in his mid-thirties and with a pink, boyish face, had been appointed to his post a year ago after service in the ruling political party. He was an accountant by training and was rumored to be a relative of the Governor.

As the commissioner spoke, O’Brien lumbered to his feet. "Mr. Chairman, is this harassment of my witness necessary?"

The commissioner regarded Birdsong, who was wearing his uniform of shabby jeans, a multi-colored shirt open at the neck, and tennis shoes. In contrast, Humphrey, who ordered his three-piece suits from deLisi in New York and went there for fittings, was sartorially impeccable.

"You asked your question and you received an answer, Mr. Birdsong," the commissioner said. "We can manage without the theatrics. Proceed, please."

"Certainly, Mr. Chairman." Birdsong swung back to Eric Humphrey. "You did say two hundred and forty-five thousand dollars?"

“Yes, I did."

‘Are there other compensations which go with being the big cheese (Laughter from the spectators.) "Excuse me-the chairman of a public utility? A personal limousine perhaps?"

Yes."

‘Chauffeur-driven?"

‘Yes."

‘Plus a fat expense account?"

Humphrey said huffily, "I would not refer to it as fat."

"How about enormous?"

More laughter.

J. Eric Humphrey’s intense displeasure was beginning to show. Essentially a high-level. administrator and in no way a rough-and-tumble fighter, he was ill-equipped to handle the flashy showmanship of Birdsong. He responded coldly, "My duties intervene certain expenses which I am permitted to charge to our company."

"I’ll bet!"

O’Brien was halfway to his feet. The presiding commissioner waved him down and instructed, "Confine yourself to questions, Mr. Birdsong."

The huge bearded man grinned broadly. "Yessir!"

Seated in the public section, Nim fumed. Why didn’t Humphrey answer bluntly, aggressively, as he could and should? My salary, Mr. Birdsong, is a matter of public record since it is reported to regulatory agencies and the information is easily available. I am certain that you knew it before asking the question; therefore your show of surprise was phony and deceitful. Furthermore, the salary is not out of line for the chairman and chief executive of one of the nation’s largest corporations; in fact, it is smaller than in most other companies of comparable size.

One reason for the level of my salary is that industrial organizations like GSP & L are a-ware they must be competitive in recruiting and retaining executive talent. To be specific: My own experience and qualifications would certainly earn me an equal or larger salary elsewhere. You may not wholly like that system, Mr. Birdsong, but while we remain a free enterprise society, that is the way it is. As to a chauffeur-driven car, this was offered to me at the time of my employment on the same competitive basis as salary, and also on the assumption that a chief executive’s time and energies are more valuable than the cost of such a car and driver. One more point about that car: Like other busy executives I am accustomed to work in it on my way from one place to another and seldom relax there. Finally, if the company’s directors and shareholders are dissatisfied with my performance in return for money paid, they have power to remove me . . .

But no! Nim thought glumly: the soft approach, excessive worrying about an elusive public image, pussyfooting, never standing up to the Birdsongs of the world by employing their own tough tactics in reverse -all these were the order of the day. This day and other days to come.

It was the second day of bearings on the license application for Tunipah, first stage. The preceding day had been filled by formalities, including submission by counsel for GSP & L of a mammoth 500-page "Notice of Intention" (350 copies printed), the first of many similar documents to come. As O’Brien put it sardonically: "By the time we’re through we’ll have caused to be chopped down a forest of trees to make the paper we shall use which, put together, could fill a library or sink a ship."

Earlier today, J. Eric Humphrey was summoned as the applicant’s first witness.

O’Brien had led the utility’s chairman quickly through a recital of the need for Tunipah and the site’s advantages-the promised "brief appearance." then there had been a more lengthy questioning by counsel for the commission, who was followed by Roderick Pritchett, manager-secretary of the Sequoia Club. Both cross-examinations, while occupying more than an hour each, were constructive and low-key. Davey Birdsong, however, who was next and appeared for p & lfp, had already enlivened the proceedings, clearly to the delight of supporters in the audience.

"Now then, Mr. Humphrey," he continued, "I -guess you wake up in the morning figuring you have to do something to justify that enormous salary of yours. Is that right?"

O’Brien called out promptly, "I object!"

"Sustained," the commissioner pronounced.

Birdsong was unperturbed. "I’ll ask it another way. Do you feel, as the main part of your job, Eric baby, that you have to keep dreaming up schemes-like this Tunipah deal-which will make huge profits for your company?"

"Objection!"

Birdsong swung toward the GSP & L counsel. "Why don’t you have a tape made? then you could press a button without opening your mouth."

There was laughter and some scattered applause. At the same time the young commissioner leaned over to confer with a second man seated beside bim-an elderly administrative law judge, a civil servant with long experience in the type of hearing being conducted. As he spoke softly, the older man could be seen to shake his head.

"Objection denied," the commissioner announced, then added, "We allow considerable latitude at these hearings, Mr. Birdsong, but you will please address all witnesses with respect, using their correct names, not as"-be tried to suppress a smile but was unsuccessful-"sport or Eric baby. Another point: We would like some assurance that your line of questioning is relevant."

"Oh, it’s relevant all right! It’s really relevant." Birdsong’s answer was expansive. ‘nen, as if changing gears, he slipped into the role of supplicant. "But please realize, Mr. Chairman, I’m just a simple person, representing humble people, not an important, fancy lawyer like old Oscar baby here." He pointed to O’Brien. "So if I’m awkward, overfriendly, make mistakes . . ."

The commissioner sighed. "Just get on. Please!”

"Yessir! Certainly, sir!” Birdsong swung toward Humphrey. "You beard the man! You’re wasting the commissioner’s time. Now quit futzing around and answer the question."

O’Brien interjected, "What question? I’ll be darned if I remember it. I’m sure the witness can’t."

The commissioner instructed, "The reporter will read the question back."

The proceedings halted and those on hard chairs and benches shifted, making themselves more comfortable while a male stenotypist, who was keeping the official commission record, flipped back through the folded tape of his notes. At the rear of the room several newcomers slipped in as others left. As those participating knew, in months and years to come, long before any decision was reached, this scene and sequence- would be repeated countless times.

The oak-paneled hearing chamber was -in a twelve-story building-near the city’s center, occupied by the California Energy Commission, which was conducting the present series of bearings. Directly across the street was the building of the California Public Utilities Commission, which would later conduct its own hearings on Tunipah, in large part repetitious. Competition and jealousy between the two separate commissions were intense and, at times, took on an Alice-in-Wonderland quality.

Two additional state agencies would also get into the act soon and conduct hearings of their own; these were the California Water Quality Resources Board and the Air Resources Board. Each of the four government bodies would receive all reports and other papers generated by the remaining three, most of which they would ignore.

Then, at lower level, it was necessary to satisfy an Air Pollution Control District which might impose restrictions even more severe than those of the state agencies.