The Caroliiva Joernal
On Education
HOWARD L. PEARRE. Editor
* Jimmy Price, Sports Editor
Bettye lidpps, teju.ie Editor Tommy Estridge. Chief Photographer
Snipes, Robert England, Francis Kendrick, Barbara Sue James.
Riihek Sharon Dailey. Sam Scott. Dick Raley. ElUson Clary, Martin
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1965
Unofficially Yours
You are holding in your hand the first issue of The
Carolina Journal, at the moment, the unofficial student
newspaper of the University of North Carolina at Charlotte
The term “unofficial” applies to the name. The old name,
which is still the official name, was The Charlotte Colle
gian. It seemed rather inappropriate because it contained
strong connotations of the name Charlotte College, which is
no more.
Finding a new name for the school was relatively simple.
The North Carolina General Assembly took care of that
problem in spite of the “sounding brass” and “tinkling
cymbal ’ of one Tom White. We at the college were overjoyed
at the name change, but the problems of changing various
names around the school were appalling. Everything was
based on the name Charlotte College. Some organizations took
the transition from a college to a university with ease. The
Young Republicans Club of Charlotte College simply became
the Young Republicans Club of the University of North
Carolina at Charlotte. YDC, the Circle K Club, and others
handled the transition similarly.
But then two publications discovered the problems in
volved in finding appropriate names. The old yearbook was
named S: S: with use of the Spanish pronunciation making
it sound like “ce ce,” to fit the Charlotte College abbreviation
“CC.” Their name change problem is not yet solved, mainly
because it doesn’t have to be solved until the staff sends the
copy off to the printers for publication.
Finally we come to the problem of giving the student
newspaper an appropriate name. The Charlotte Collegian, as
already explained, carried strong connotations of Charlotte
College. It wasn’t that we were ashamed of our old name. It
was just that we were so much prouder of our new name.
Names for the paper were thought of, and names for the
paper were scrapped. We ran a contest. It didn’t help. We
asked everyone. One of the Journal staffers who works at the
Charlotte Observer had everyone there working on the prob
lem. No good. The Gold-Digger, The Student, Spike, Gold
Dust, The Charlottean, The Weekly Tar Heel, "The Archway.
All were either too corny or too plain. On August 29, a staff
meeting was called and we still had no name. Someone
suggested The Carolina Journal. We took a vote. The result
was a name that we hope will stay over the years and not be
changed at the whim of any editor that happens to be elected.
’Very few people were consulted before the publication of
this issue. The Student Legislature was not. And for this we
are sorry. We hope they and the student body will forgive our
hasty but very necessary decision. We hope the Student
Legislature will approve the name at their next meeting.
Then we can be the official student newspaper of UNC-C.
Think
Last Saturday morning, you probably picked up the
Charlotte Observer and scanned the top line which told you
that the paper’s weekly prize puzzle was at the time worth
$1,450 to you if you were clever enough to solve it. As you
looked on down the page, you spotted the lead headline.
“4 Local Youths Die In Smashup Of Auto.”
Stunned, perhaps. Shocked, sick, or maybe saying to
yourself sarcastically, “big deal.” Whatever your emotion at
the time, you probably checked on down to the third para
graph where the victims were listed in bold type. If you did
you felt very sick. If you didn’t, you probably felt very sick
anyway.
Your mind roamed unconsciously back to your high
school days when you very unwillingly took part in a driver’s
education course. Figures flashed into your mind. You might
remember that in 1964, 47,700 persons lost their very precious
lives in automobile accidents. You remember that millions of
dollars are thrown away every year in damages caused by the
same evil.
But somehow this one headline about four kids hit you
somewhat harder than all the statistics you ever had to
memorize.
Students at this University are drivers. Nearly all drive to
school every day. How far is it to your house? Two miles?
Eight miles? Fourteen miles? Think.
Letters, Anyone?
The Carolina Journal reserves a space in every issue for a
Letters To The Editor column. No such column appears in
this issue for the simple reason that there were no letters to
the editor. We hope to inspire you into writing us, or tee you
off for the same reason. ITie end purpose, of course, will not
be just to raise contention, but that particular byproduct will
be welcomed. So don’t just sit there; say something!
“One of the benefits of a
college education is to show the
boy its little avail.” — Emerson.
“Training is everything. The
peach was once a bitter almond;
cauliflower is nothing but cab
bage with a college education.”
— Twain.
“I wish that some one would
give a course in how to live. It
can’t be taught in the colleges:
that’s perfectly obvious for col
lege professors don’t know any
better than the rest of us.” — A.
E. Newton.
DEAR BOSS
it is a curious fact
that two years ago
when we had about
one thousand students
our social activity budget
was fifty seven hundred
dollars
has been cut from the
requested sixty eight
hundred dollars
to a paltry thirty eight
hundred dollars
and now
when we are expecting
almost two thousand students
our social acitivity budget
and prices
have gone up
exclamation point
perhaps someone important
has forgotten
that the success
of the various
student activities
on our campus
is directly proportional
to the success
of our social activities
THE
JOURNAL
but be of good cheer
for i have seen the
projected social schedule
and we are going to have
a blast
for one semester
then we will run
out of money
at the moment
the money situation
is not very fast
just sort of
half fast
too many chiefs
i think
and not enough
bucks
beggardly yours
vw the beetle
My Name Is Horsley
(Editor’s note: Hugh J. Horsley is fresh out of
the United States Air Force and is entering UNC-
C this year as a freshman. He will be writing a
eolumn on this page this year. In this first issue
he introduces himself. We are looking forward to
his columns; however, we want to know your
opinion also. Please let us know via the Letters
To The Editor column.)
By HUGH J. HORSLEY
How may I describe myself as a person? Per
sonalities are complex things and there are no
simple modifiers upon which to place the bulk of
my descriptive introduction. Would it be appropri
ate to say that I am a Christian and then a
Presbyterian? Not really, for the majority of you
are Christians and many of you are Presbyterians,
so this ceases to become a distinguishing character
istic. Could I introduce myself by saying that I
came to school here during the summer? No, for
there were more than 700 other summer students
here. And to say that I am a freshman is rather
stupid for similar reasons.
physicist. I intend to pursue a degree of Doctor of
Natural Philosophy and possibly do some work at
the Princeton Institute of Advanced Study though at
the present I will consider myself fortunate to stay
in this school.
I was born on September 7, 1944, (the third
anniversary of the beginning of the blitz on London)
in Birmingham, Ala. For the first seven years of
my life I lived with my grandfather, an uneducated
but now prominent engineer and paper products
designer. I moved with my mother and father to
Andalusia, Ala., .a small farming town in the
southern part of the state in 1953 on October 5. That
year also marked the death of my father’s father,
Mr. T. A. Horsley Sr,, vice-president of Subsidi
aries and a member of the board of directors of
National Dairies. The elder Horsley had literally
built Sealtest around him and the faint memory of
that great man has always affected me and will
continue to do so the rest of my life. He left a
legacy which, each day, becomes harder to live up
to.
I might tell you that I have just completed my
tour of duty in the USAF but there are just enough
other ex-servicemen at UNC-C to make that method
of distinction fail. You wouldn’t walk up to someone
and asked him if it were simply because you heard
him say that he had been in the Air Force.
I might say that I have lived in Tampa, Fla.,
Atlanta, Ga., and Birmingham, Ala., but I am
sure that I’m not the only one here who has lived
in one or more of these places. I might be willing
to bet that there is at least one other person on
this campus who has lived in or been to Denver
or San Francisco, two places in which I lived.
My mother’s father, with whom I lived, and now
greatiy love, Belmont Duncan Osteen, traces
ancestry through his mother to that great and
ancient Scottish famiiy whose name he bears. In
fact, my entire ancestry is British: Gerdy, Dun
can, Osteen, Kirkpatrlc, Horsley. So perhaps, if
you see a gleam in my eye when the pipes are
played you will know that it is a bit of my
Scottish blood boiling. I have traveied from coast
to coast in this broad nation yet I am still a
Southern Highlander and I am intensely proud of
my Southern mountain home.
Perhaps I should say that I am a lover of the
music of the baroque and romantic composers, but
just because you see someone listening to classical
music don’t rush up to him and call him by my
name: it just might be Mr. Woodruff and I don’t
think that he would feel complimented by the
comparison. In the enjoyment of music I think that
the only truly distinguishing factor is my apprecia
tion of the Beatles as musicians and composers.
The above mentioned facts individually do not
separate me, as a person, from anyone else. Yet
taken all together they do make up one Hugh J.
Horsley, a person who, like most of you, is
preoccupied with two major hopes: Enjoying life
and, at the present, passing all of my courses.
After we moved from Andalusia, we took up
residence in Atlanta, Ga., one of the most beautiful
cities in this nation and it was there that my father
became associated with Dixie Cup. During the six
years that we lived in that great city we watched it
grow around us. When we arrived there in late 1954
the metropolitan population was just over six
hundred thousand. When we left in 1961 it was over
a million. To call to mind another method of
measuring the size of a city, when we arrived in
Atlanta the only building over 20 stories was the
Fulton National Bank: when we left there were at
least five structures that high and six more were
being constructed.
On May 4, 1965, I arrived in Charlotte after
having returned from the Pacific Island of Oki
nawa. On that day I ceased living the regimented
yet carefree life of an airman and settied down to
the task of becoming educated. I did so with the
knowiedge that only as an educated person couid
I serve society to the fullest. And I do mean to
serve man and God.
My family lived in a small town some 18 miles
from downtown Atlanta named Avondale Estates.
Here I got my first taste of that great American
institution of “suburbia.” This was a beautltul
little community that only covered three-fourths
of a square mile and had a lovely community
club. I might also mention that the place was just
full of those legendary Southern belles. I really
enjoyed it.
Concerning my future, it is my hope to become a
“pure” scientist, to be, in the future, a theoretical
After that, we moved to Tampa, Fla., whore 1
finished hich school, ’Then came the Air Force. Now
I am at UNC-C and I am as eager to learn as ever.
I am also eager to serve and if I may serve you by
writing this column I will be more than glad to do
so.