Editorials
March 4, 1993
Viewpoint
One day inWasTifngton
COULO rOU
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MOWTHEMtW
ETWiCS CODE.
Calling all dissenters: Put some
muscle behind the mumbling
Jack Duval issued the challenge and for once you responded. He
pleaded for letters and you wrote. He conveyed to you that the pen is
powerful and some of you picked one up. And believe it or not, your
words will be read and they will m^e an impact on someone,
somewhere.
We as a newspaper staff were reminded of that fact this week,
that we are not writing for ourselves to see our names in print and
that we are not producing a paper just to send home to Mom because
nobody else seems to care. TTiere is indeed somebody out there, a
readership that is concerned about what's going on around here; we
just never heard from you before. Mumblings under your breath don't
make headlines and they don't change policy and they don't get heard.
Words in print do.
This week marked the most letters The Pendulum has received
this year to date and it is encouraging to see that Elon's campus does
indeed register a pulse (although still a weak one) and that it is indeed
reading and thinking.
Now that we're moving in the right direction, let's take it a step
further. It's time to get off our collective butts, shut up and put out.
"Never mistake motion for action," Hemingway once said. Without
action behind the rhetoric, it's all just a jumble of empty words.
You're mad that the yearbook is folding? Complaining about it
won't get the book fmished any faster or keep it in existence any
longer. If you care enough to complain, care enough to help out.
You're grumbling because The Pendulum isn't covering issues
you're concerned about? We can't be everywhere; it's called being
short-staffed. If you're that concerned, write us or better yet, actually
do something about it.
Magic fairies aren't doing all the work around here: behind every
organization are the faces of students just like yourself who have
chosen to risk involvement and all it entails. Many of them have 18
hour course loads, just like you. Many have part-time jobs, just like
you. The difference is that they have chosen to make a difference.
They arc making their time at Elon College count.
The world has enough dissenters and complainers and angry
young men. What the world needs more of is people who use their
anger and their concerns to bring about change.
Pick up a pen, pick up a hammer. But whatever you do, do
something.
The Pendulum
Editor: OeuDee Carowan
Mana){tnK Editor Tonya Taylor
Commentary Pag* Editor; Jack Duval
SportM Editon: Erick Gill
Entertainment Editor; Jennirer Hudion
Reporters: Lori Haley, Courtenay Houston, Jon Kimball, Amy Stinion,
Katie Brock, Kristin Blaw, Rick Crimea
Entertainment Reporter. Aahley Stone, Brian Tane
Sporta Reporter Matt Ball
Pbotoirrapber Scott Hildebrand, Bill Harvey, Stewart William*
Advertiaing: Uiaa Keating, Sarah Mitchell
Graphic*: Rob Mancuao, Jennirer Vann
Advlaor: Brad Hamm
Office; 102 Williamaon Ave., Elon Collflge, N.C., 27244. Newi:584-233t
THE CODE /S
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Alamance ER
A hellish night in the life
y 31 n >r u I k h
An old man, his mouth
agape, was being pushed down
the aisle. His lifeless legs hung
from the front of the wheelchair
carelessly in a pigeon-toed
manner. One of them slipped
from the fold-out platform and
began to drag on the ground. The
lady pushing him stopped to
collect the numb leg and stacked
it back on top of the small
platform.
A woman, not past her early
30s, sat in the corner with her
two children. Her gaunt face and
hollow eyes spoke of a textile
job, late payments and the
looming, unknown future. Her
gaze was as vacant as an
abandoned building. She looked
as if the life of her had been
drained away by a thousand
bottomless problems.
And there I was, exhausted,
with a 101+ degree fever, extreme
muscle aches and what felt like
an ice pick being driven into my
skull, sitting at the front desk of
the Alamance Memorial
Enici^endy Koom.
Jack
Duval
I sat there for at least five
minutes before anyone even
acknowledged my existence and
when they finally did notice me,
all they did was take my name
and tell me to "wait until the
nurse called my name." Thirty
minutes later my name was called
and 1 went to a small room where
a nurse took my temperature and
blood pressure.
"I have to tell you that it
will be three hours before a
doctor can see you," she said. 1
asked her if she thought it would
be better for me to come back the
next morning. She replied that
she had "no way of knowing how
crowded it would be the next
morning." I reminded her that she
worked there and must have some
idea what the mornings were likC’
She remained obstinate. I was too
sick to argue.
This was the first emergency
room I'd been in that took a”
attitude with its patients. And |
two hours I was able to ponded
this while I waited for the docto^
to see me. This was when ^
noticed the man with the nuU'*’
legs and the woman with
1,000-yard stare. They were
the same fix as I, only worse.
Everywhere I looked th®^®
were despondent faces staring
others just like their own. TheV
were searching for hope,
imagined, but hope doesn't g*^"^
in the white-washed, sterile
environment of the hospital.
Finally, the nurse called
name, and I was led to an "0^
Gyn" room and put on
operating table that was too shof*
to lay on and just tall enough
make my back spasm when I ^
upright. .
Another 30 minutes pas*®^
See Duval, Pag® ‘