Bela Martin heard about Black Mountain College at Louisville Male High School from Robert Wunsch, who had taught there between his leaving Rollins College and his teaching at Black Mountain. Martin and Morton Steinau hitchhiked to Black Mountain to visit Wunsch and decided to enroll.

Martin, one of Black Mountain's few athletic students, recalled that he could have gone to other colleges on a football scholarship but chose Black Mountain instead. Martin attended the college for five-and-a-half years, graduating in weaving with Marilyn Bauer as his graduation examiner. In addition to courses in the general curriculum he took courses with Josef Albers, stage studies with Xanti Schawinsky and drama with Robert Wunsch.

After graduation, on the recommendation of Ms. Stix, the mother of John Stix, he was hired to teach art at John Burroughs School, a private junior-senior high school in St. Louis, where he also coached winning teams in sports. In 1941, to avoid being drafted, he tried to enlist in the navy to be a pilot but was rejected because he needed two years of college and the navy would not accept his Black Mountain certificate.

Again Ms. Stix helped him, this time finding a college that would give him two years credit for his Black Mountain work. During World War II he trained as a pilot. He was sent to Pearl Harbor soon after the bombing and then to the Fiji Islands and Guadalcanal for more training. He later flew fighter escort in Solomon Islands and trained on the S4FL-Hellcat.

Just before was to be sent further out in Pacific, he had to good fortune to be returned to the United States where he was a fighter pilot instructor. After the war Martin did corporate flying for thirty-five years until his retirement in 1976. He lived in California and worked as a flight trainer, did production flight tests, and flew corporate assignments. During the Vietnam War he flew on contract to the military, transporting equipment to Saigon, Danang and Cameron Bay.

He later moved to Hartford where he worked for Heublein as chief pilot. After Heublein purchased Kentucky Fried Chicken, he flew the Colonel on many assignments. Bela Martin is remembered by his fellow students as the rare gifted athlete at Black Mountain.

Throughout his life he combined his passion for flying and for golf and tennis. He met his wife Dorothy when playing tennis. After retirement he worked for golf course in Hartford and continues to play.

Biography written by Mary Emma Harris for Black Mountain Project.

Black Mountain College Project

Mary Emma Harris interviewed Bela in 1997 and the transcript is available from Appalachian State University under The Mary Emma Harris and Black Mountain College Project, Inc. Oral History collection.

Topics: Hearing about BMC – Josef Albers art classes – theater with Robert Wunsch – Xanti Schawinsky – World War II service – work program – Bas Allen – Jack and Rubye Lipsey – Lesley Katz jazz records – John Evarts – college visitors– college sports – Dante Fiorello – post-BMC professional work – Roy’s beer joint – student study – Robert Wunsch

Asheville Art Museum Collection

Bela was very involved in the College bulletins, sharing updates of his travels and time in the military. He was also very active in the theater program while on campus, so his name appears in many show posters.

Writings about Bela can be seen in digitized college bulletins on Asheville Art Museum's collection website: collection.ashevilleart.org. They can be found by searching these accession numbers: 2017.40.109, 2017.40.116, 2017.40.118, 2017.40.121, 2017.40.122, 2017.40.139, 2017.40.149, 2017.40.157, 2017.40.133, 2017.40.170, 2017.40.203, 2017.40.194, 2017.40.182

2017.40.266 November 1937 bulletin, Bela listed as performer as gunman and a performer for the danse macabre 2017.40.284; 2017.40.247 listed as performer for three different performances and 2017.40.281 Clifford Odets, “Waiting for Lefty” listed as performer. 2017.40.252 Doll’s House performance, listed as performer in 1939 show.

2017.40.109a-d June 1943 bulletin, “Ensign Bela Martin writes from “Island No. 3 somewhere in the Pacific” on May 1st:

“The mosquitos are much more malicious here than they were in the last place from which I wrote. Here we have the malaria mosquito which we combat with nets at night, with slaps in the daytime, with atabrine tablets at meal time. Atabrine does not prevent malaria but keeps it in a subdued state. You can see fellows scattered about among the cocoanut trees scrubbing their clothes with a brush and strong soap on top of anything flat they can find. The water is usually carried in tin helmets or empty food tins from the kitchen.

Of course, there is no iron, but just to feel clean now and then is our biggest luxury out here. I never appreciated water so much before. The shower is a drum of water piped up the side of a tree, with a can with holes in its bottom, to form a dripping spray. The water is pumped up by working by hand a fuel pump from a wrecked airplane. There are usually four or five naked fellows standing in line slapping mosquitos while awaiting their turn…

I’ve been over enemy territory but haven’t yet encountered anything, although my neck has been on a swivel watching for anything to pounce on us. On this, my first trip, too, I had a little trouble with one gas tank which wouldn’t draw like it should. I had a hell of a time working with the emergency pump, shifting tanks, trying to get use out of every ounce of fuel in order to have enough to return. Because of the effort expended I used up twice as much oxygen as did anyone else. Moments like those make one feel good to get his feet on the ground again. I really learned the lesson of gas conservation when I once returned to the field after a long hop, and just as I touched the ground the engine quit cold- out of gas. I felt like kneeling down and kissing the ground that time. Sometimes it seems like pure luck that one gets up, then down safely again.

There was the pilot who took off and when only one hundred feet in the air had his engine to cut out. Down he started, headed for the trees. When almost at the level on the tree tops, his engine caught again. As he pulled safely up again, he said, “I’ll take over from here, Lord”. At night, in bed, we can hear a lot of chattering in the palm trees. At first I thought it was monkeys. It comes, however, from very brilliant red birds called macataws that fly together, in formations of two to four. By the way, have you read the latest diary of the war out here? Some of the fellows have been collecting Jap souvenirs. They either pick them up off the ground or trade whiskey or money for them. Among the souvenirs are helmets, rifles, bayonets, knives, pistols, swords and shells. The more morbid collect skulls and teeth, preferably gold teeth.”