In Part ONE, we set the scene for the clash of heaven and what seemed like hell when Slippery Rock High School competed against St. Dominic High School on the quiz show, “Battle of Wits” in the Fall of 1970.
After losing my spit when I saw the sisters and their rosaries in the WIIC Channel 11 lobby, the teams were introduced to By Williams, the host of “Battle of Wits” (as well as “Micky Mouse Club” and anchoring the WIIC news and weather). Mr. Williams led us into the studio, past the cameras and pointed to his desk in the middle and then the panel on his left where the SRHS team would sit and the panel on the right where the St. Dominic team would sit.
Above and behind Mr. Williams was another panel for three judges, reporters for AP, UPI and The Pittsburgh Press respectively, who would judge how well the captain of each team summarized — in depth — details related to a randomly-selected current news event. Each judge could award up to five points.
Mr. Williams and the teams were then seated. A voice from a dark booth in the upper back of the studio announced, “Stand by. Sixty seconds to air time!” I was very nervous and when parTICularly nervous, my nose would sometimes begin to bleed. I felt something on my folded right hand and saw a drop of blood which I quickly wiped off with my left. In full panic, I inhaled and held my breath as deeply as I could hoping I wouldn’t faint . . . and miraculously, the bleeding stopped the moment Mr. Williams asked the first question. Perhaps God was on our side after all.
As it turned out, SRHS defeated St. Dominic High School 72 points to 56 points, the second highest score of any high school that year. But this achievement had both its high points and its low points, thanks to me.
I had aced the in-depth question about the huge auto strike in September of 1970 when 400,000 workers struck General Motors (GM), then the world’s largest corporation. I spewed out detail after detail: “massive walkout,” ” latest 67 days,” “affected 145 GM plants in the United States and Canada,” and “cost GM more than $1 billion which was the most expensive strike in American history.” The judges each awarded me 5 points — a perfect score of 15! The captain of the St. Dominic team had scored only 7 points on her in-depth question about a current news event; which one, I now don’t remember, and apparently neither did the St. Dominic captain at the time.
I had also answered correctly EVERY question I had buzzed in on . . . except for the last one. The. Very. Last. One. It was worth 10 points.
MR. WILLIAMS: “Of what country was Antonio de Oliveira Salazar the prime minister and then dictator and founder of Estato Novo?”
Without hesitation, I buzzed in and blurted out: “SWEDEN!”
“SWEDEN?! WHAT?!” hissed Raymond B. sitting next to me, poking me with his right elbow. “Sweden?!”
Behind me, I heard gasps and chortles and then was mortified to remember that the show was taped before a live studio audience. A sly smile on his face, Mr. Williams looked over at me and said, “No, Miss Anderson. An-ton-io de Oli-vei-ra Sal-a-zar (yes, he repeated the name slowly, enunciating every syllable as though I had never really heard it), was not the former Prime Minister and dictator of Sweden. The correct answer is Portugal.”
If I had answered correctly, our team’s total score would have been 82 points and perhaps we would have won the end-of-the-season first place prize: a free trip to Washington, D.C. (Ironically, I have been living 13 miles from the U.S. Capitol for five decades.) As winners, each member of the SRHS team was awarded an over-sized 11 x 15 Encyclopedia Brittanica Atlas. On the way home to Slippery Rock that night, Mr. Benton opened the atlas to a map of Europe and silently pointed to Portugal and then to Sweden.
The following Saturday, my sisters and I sat around the TV to watch the airing of my “Battle of Wits” performance, their noses inches from the screen to see how their wardrobe items looked on TV. In the end, it didn’t matter that none of what I wore matched because like the wardrobes of the nuns and members of the St. Dominic High School team, not to mention, the decisive SRHS victory, our television was black and white.
The aged last photo was published in the Slippery Rock Signal. From the left: our social studies teacher and team faculty advisor, Mr. Benton; Joe D., one of the alternates (who is now a retired Air Force pilot and still the butthead he was in 1970); the Swedish captain of the team; James L. (the science/chemistry whiz, who during the show stunningly buzzed in and answered “TU-144” when the question was about the name of Russia’s new supersonic jetliner); and last, the other alternate, David F. (who today is completely bald and looks like the Monopoly Game banker, including mustache). Raymond B. is not pictured, as he was still in shock by my last answer.
The caption also misidentifies the high school that lost to SRHS as “Domenac High School” — another high school in the Pittsburgh area. I am certain that this was an act of God to cover the shame of the St. Dominic High School team and its four faculty advisors.
And now back to my nemesis, Antonio de Oliveira Salazar . . .
I KNEW who he was!
He had died three months earlier, and I had read a news article that the regime he founded did not die with him — that was why his name was in the news. The regime he created lasted until 1974, making it one of the longest-lived authoritarian regimes in modern Europe.
I KNEW who he was!
He is still dead.
Also, I had been in a section of my high school class that was designated to learn Spanish. I KNEW the meaning of “Estato Novo”! In fact, my Spanish was SO good that years earlier, I had been chosen to play the lead in the 8th-grade class play, “El Gato Ensombrerado”.
Looking back, it may have been because I was the tallest one in my class.
Belated congratulations on your win! What a wonderful story this is. So filled with colorful details that simply sparkle…from the drop of blood on your hand to your “blurting out” the final incorrect answer. We can feel your anxiety and your eagerness! Great job–not only winning the “Battle of Wits” but in conveying it all so well! A really fun read.
btw: Yes, I was on the debate team and loved debating, and with you, I also had the lead role in a school play–this in my senior year. Where has all that energy gone? But it was such fun!
Thank you, Carol. Perhaps today I should call my blog, “Sparkle and Spitfire.” I like that you thought this post sparkled. I don’t believe any of my prior life stories have really sparkled. I’ll try and keep the fuse lit.
I would not have wanted to be on the team that debated your team. No. way. You would have skewered our team, all the while smiling innocently. Yeah, you knew it was fun, but heck, you wanted to always win, right? With decorum, of course.
Good job and lots of laughs. I am amazed that you still have the news articles and pictures. Really good memory for detail. A classic story of how pressure influences us even when we “know” differently. I hope you have long ago forgiven yourself and have been able to laugh–such a good story.
Full disclosure, Charlotte, I had to do a ton of research this past Monday and Tuesday to put specifics on the few details I did remember, like “Sweden” and “Portugal” and “prime minister.” For example, I had completely forgotten Antonio’s name, no doubt so I would never feel THAT embarrassed again.
Yes, looking back, the story is quite funny. Thanks for your continued encouragement.
Yes, congratulations on your win and on a delightful post. I really love the “where are they now” details included in your first comment, too, but also wonder how you would caption yourself in the present. Bravo!
Thanks, Beth, always a champion of delight.
How would I caption myself in the present? The CEO of the company that was my main client for several decades once told me that my greatest strength was “Championing the underdog,” and my greatest weakness was, “Not knowing when the hell to shut up about it.” So what does that make me? Is there a caption for that?
I would say, “Sharon A. is still a fierce and tireless champion of the underdog.” That is a wonderful strength and something the world needs now more than ever.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏💪
That is a fantastic story! Isn’t it lovely and absolutely not horrifying at all (ha ha) to relive those old embarrassing moments?!!? Well I enjoyed your story anyway. You are so brilliant always, even if Sweden.
I went to the Arizona State spelling bee twice. I had to win the Coconino spelling bee both times to qualify, spelling long and difficult words.
The first time I missed “iceberg.” I spelled it iceburg.
Second time I missed “outdoorsy.” I spelled it outdoorsey.
This provided many hours of entertainment for people who could spell both words with no problem, including my good friend Benny Berg.
Neola, I luved, er, LOVED your comment. Really, you were a champion speller bee?! I hope you have that on your resume or, at the least, your Facebook profile. It’s impressive and sweet all at wonce, er, once.
Thanks for your feedback. It means a lot coming from a brilliant writer like yourself, even if you can’t spell, “iceberg”! What are the chances that you would have a friend with the last name, “Berg”?
I too really love this story. An impressive accomplishment especially for a HS student. My one complaint is that I enjoyed it so much I wanted it to be longer. Folding in all those details and images made me feel a part of it. Plus the laughter. A nice balance all around.
Does anyone else find it ironic that By Williams died in 2023 at the age of 94 after a two-year battle with Alzheimer’s? I mean the whole point of the show and questions was to recall the correct answer.
Thanks. Adrienne. I read so much as a kid and was so aware of the world outside my mother’s home (which she never encouraged), that it could be easy to tie in the 60’s and 70’s into my stories. Again, I could not do this without you. Your instincts are spot on about what is working in my stories and what isn’t working.
Now . . . about By Williams and his death from Alzheimer’s complications. Yes, it is all quite ironic. Even now, I can hear his exaggerated repeat of Antonio’s name that 1970 November evening. He was trying very hard not to laugh.