Noel Morse
KNOCKING
AT
THE GATE
It was our pleasant and fortunate op
portunity to have Dr. A. P. Hudgins, from
Charleston, W. Va., as our guest for sev
eral days. Dr. Hudgins, a physician and
a specialist in Courtship and Marriage
Counseling, is in the process of visiting
several colleges for counseling in this field.
He was invited to come by Miss Hoyt’s
Sociology class; however, the entire stu
dent body has merited by his stay with us.
Many students found his direct approach
to their problems extremely helpful. But
the thing whcih made us all happiest was
that he beat Jimmy Bennett at a set of
tennis. (In all fairness to our co-ed, we
must admit that he beat Dr. Hudgins at
a set, also.)
April, 1959
VOLUME 2
NUMBER 4
Published monthly except June, July,
August by Student Government Asso
ciation of Montreat College.
SECOND-CLASS PRIVIGEGES AUTHOR
IZED AT MONTREAT, N. C. RETURN
POSTAGE GUARANTEED — Subscription
rate: $1.00 per yr.
Editor Joy Townes
Associate Editor Noel Morse
Arts Editor Joan Conner
Business Manager Tom Arena
Advertising Mgr Pat English
Assoc. Advertising Mgr Joan Dodge
Circulation Manager Norma Prator
Adviser Miss Elizabeth Maxwell
Reporters and Contributors: Mary Sulli
van, Jo Dean Faddis, Bettye Hampton,
Arlene Glass, Marsha Coe, and Jean Falls.
Typists and Proofreaders: Peggy Barnes,
Marie Hunt, Alice Turner, Annette Gatlin,
Betty LaFon, Barbara Corbin, Carolyn
Merritt, Lorene Key, Lettie Brewer, Caro
lyn May, and Pippin Carter.
(The editorial policies of this paper are
not necessarily the views of the students
at large. All unsigned editorials are writ
ten by the editor.)
On May 9, the Juniors will enter the
lovely Gold Room of the Battery Park Hotel
in Asheville to entertain the Seniors at
the annual Junior-Senior Banquet. At last
the “why’s” of food-selling, apartment
cleaning, and other such menial tasks will
be answered. These last few days before
the big night are filled with anticipation
by the Seniors, rushing and planning by
the Juniors, and endless hours of practice
by those who will be entertaining. Old
Montreat tradition is that all final details
will be as secret as talkative girls can be
expected to keep them. And so until that
night our questions cannot be answered???
As we entered the chapel on Thursday
morning, April 16, it seemed to be home
coming day again. On the platform was
the Rev. Calvin Theilman, the popular
speaker for Spiritual Emphasis Week in
1958. Due to illness, this was his first
opportunity to return to speak to us since
that time. Once again our hearts were
thrilled as we heard a message of hope
More than hope, he gave us the truth that
Christ can overcome every fear which man
possesses—a stirring message for our time.
Mr. Theilman’s presence reminded many
of us of another young man who spoke
twice in our fall chapel services. Tliis
fascinating man, Dr. Callaghan, is a Meth
odist from Ireland. His challenge to us
was this: “The symbol of Christianity is
a cross, not a cushion.” He called upon us
to enter the fight for right and to bear the
gospel of salvation to our generation.
It seemed strange to upperclassmen to
be electing freshmen to major offices, but
now that the choices have been made we
begm to realize the capability of the shi
dents who will be next year’s iSdS
Another strange aiid unusual thing was the
fact that a Baptist boy was elected student
body president and the following dav
another Baptist, this time a girl, was elect
ed to the top position in the Student Chris-
proves once and for
all that—the gentle spring showers so
typical of Montreat have turned into a
downpour! It also points out that students
even in a predominantly stiff-necked Pres
byterian organization of great female pop
ulation, have minds of their own' Even
the upperclassmen, three “graduating”
classes in a year, are admitting that the
future of Montreat College is consideraWy
brighter than we at first thought. ^
The Editor's Notes
Now is the
Accepted Time
Outside the world was black and wet,
devoid of human expression, made all the
more mystical by the effect of the day's
early hours.
The Dialette office was ablaze with light.
Three editors—Conner, Morse, and Townes
—were expressing themselves freely and
very humanly. The wettest thing to be
found therein was the coffee stimulant,
made all the more necessary by the dulling
effect of the day’s early hours. But dead
lines must be met.
Type, stop, talk, coffee cups empty, type,
stop, talk. Next year ought to be a good
year . . . the officers-elect show possibil
ities . . . Gad! Junior-Senior will soon
be over ... I still think her best was
Rhapsody in Blue . . . Say, what do you
think of this—^The wail of the siren pierced
the air. It was a very ordinary sounding
siren, but it demanded attention. It
forced those who heard it into brooding
silence—But did it? You know, I ment
ioned something about the threat of war
the other day, and the kids just laughed
• ■ . No one takes Civil Defense seriously
■ ■ . I read an article recently by a man
who is considered an authority on the sub
ject, and he stated that the U. S. and
Russie would be exchanging bombs by June
■ . . They can laugh if they want to . • •
Type, stop, talk, coffee cups empty, type,
stop, talk.
The world is at present a lady in waiting.
Berlin is waiting. China is waiting. India
is waiting. Russia is waiting. America
is waiting. But waiting for what? Like
an audience gripped with suspense, they
view the practiced steps of a tight rope
walker who cannot afford to take on mis
step without plunging to sure death.
The situation is tense to say the least;
yet there are those who have become so
used to living under such strained condi
tions that they tend to take them for grant
ed. Our minds are so deadened by in
difference, our fears have been so long sup
pressed, that we are utterly incapable of
facing the danger of atomic warfare.
But this is not the time for dulled minds
or hardened hearts. This is the time for
action. This is the time for Christians to
tell the waiting world in no uncertain
terms the message proclaimed by the
prophets of God: “Look unto me and be
ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I
am God and there is none else.”
Outside the world was black and wet,
devoid of human expression, made all the
more mystical by the effect of the day’s
early hours.
The Dialette