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THE PILOT—Southern Pines, North Carolina
THURSDAY, MAY 21, 1964
Southern Pines
ILOT
North Carolina
“In taking over The Pilot no changes are contemplated. We will try to keep this a good
paper. We will try to make a little money for all concerned. Wherever there seems to be
an occasion to use our influence for the public good we will try to do it. And we will
treat everybody alike.” — James Boyd, May 23, 1941.
Town Planning: Here’s Hoping!
Planning is planning; it isn’t waiting
around until something has been done
and then wishing there had been a plan
to guide the footsteps of inexperience or
the poor taste of ignorance.
Planning is looking ahead, but it is
also looking back. It is foreseeing coming
neelds and coming events in the town’s
development, it is looking back to study
ing the town’s history, its path through
the years, in order to avoid early mis
takes, and perhaps even more important,
to guard those precious features that
have made the town a happy place to
live.
Southern Pines now has two commit
tees, both having to do with zoning,
though one of them is called “the plan
ning board.” They have another feature
in common: both meet very seldom.
Now, hopefully, there seems to be the
possibility that a true town planning
committee will be established.
This has long been a wish of a good
many people. They feel that past mis
takes might have been avoided had there
been a group of interested citizens meet
ing regularly in open session to study
and work up the planned development of
the town. Such a committee would
arouse much interest and support, its
influence could be great. After all, this
town was founded by a town planner,
John T. Patrick, and it is worthwhile to
think back to the good plan he drew up,
a plan which if it had been adhered to
in all its details, might even have made
our town a more convenient living-place
than it is now.
Patrick, prospecting for the railroad,
decided a town should be built here,
but he didn’t let it grow like Topsy,
every whichaway—as has been the im-
fortunate practice too often since then.
He sat down and planned how it should
be. There was little here when he start
ed—and there was no population ex
plosion right under his nose either—
nevertheless, he thought big. He laid out
a gridiron plan of avenues, streets, little
alleyways, stretching out into the piney
woods and hog lots; he planted trees
along the parkways. Only mistake he did
make—pardonable perhaps in a railroad
man—he overestimated the charm of the
tracks and let the town grow up on
both sides of them. But most everything
else he planned was first-rate and, for
those times, unusually far-sighted. The
spirit with which he attacked the pro
blem was generous and wise.
The center squares and the little alleys
are gone now, more’s the pity, but about
everything else that Patrick planned has
endured basic to the structure and life
of Southern Pines.
With this good example a part of our
tradition and with the spate of develop
ments, golf courses and so on, almost
overwhelming us, it seems high time to
get to serious work on the way we want
our town to grow. Here’s hoping the new
planning committee becomes a reality,
and soon.
Major McLendon On The Right Track
Given the nature of politics, it is too
much to expect that the Senate Rules
Committee will renew and expand the
Bobby Baker investigation in this elec
tion year. However, there will be wide
spread public agreement with recommen
dations in the report made public this
week from L. P. McLendon, the Tar
Heel attorney who is special counsel for
the committee.
Under these recommendations, sena
tors (and their employees) would have
to disclose their financial interests, would
also be prohibited from associations with
contractors doing business with the
government, and would be subject to
appearing and testifying before Senate
committees.
Major McLendon’s report, obviously
motivated by moral convictions, makes
good reading—even in the news story
summaries appearing this week. The at
torney’s strong statements contrast not
ably with the back-tracking and hesitan
cy of the Rules Committee Chairnjm,
Sen. B. Everett Jordan—the figure ex
hibiting typical consternation in today’s
cartoon.
Despite all the hullabaloo about
Bobby Baker’s former associations with
the now President Johnson, and Republi
can pressure for continuing the investi
gation, reform in the wheeling and deal
ing of senators and their aides is a
non-partisan issue. We suspect that ex
traneous financial interests and compli
cations—the sort of thing that would be
prevented or sharply limited by adop
tion of Major McLendon’s recommenda
tions—are not by any means limited to
tha Democratic side of the aisle.
A shocking, fundamental aspect of the;
Bobby Baker case is that Baker could
draw a $19,000 annual salary, paid by
the taxpayers not by the senators, and
apparently operate without supervision,
accountability or control. Most of his
time, it appears, was giyejn to his “out
side” interests which he was even able
to administer from his office in the
Capitol building.
If not a crime, this was an affront to
the Senate and to the nation. It may
take the Senators some time to_ get
around to regulating their own financial
dealings, but they should move promptly
to make certain the Senate’s officers and
employees are earning their pay and
staying out of trouble.
World Trade Not A Remote Matter
This is World Trade Week, proclaimed
by President Johnson to alert the nation
to the tremendous value and potential
value of world trade and especially U.S.
export trade.
'The proclamation points out that “the
expansion of United States export trade
is vital to the improvement of our bal
ance of international payments, to the
continuing growth of American industry,
and to the fuller employment of Ameri
can workers ...”
Speaking of the mission to expand ex
ports, the President recently said: “There
are few tasks that are more important, or
closer to my own concern for the future
of this country.”
Is this remote from North Carolina and
Moore County? Indeed it is not. Inter
national trade contributed one billion
dollars to the economy of North Carolina
in 1963—$6 million from exports and $4
million from imports. Jobs for some 50,-
000 persons were provided by this trade.
Keep Libraries Open
The increasingly successful work of
the Greensboro Regional Export Expans
ion Council—which covers this state—
was the subject of an article on the front
page of the Business and Financial sec
tion of the New York Tim;eis last Sunday,
telling how the officers of the Council
and the many volunteer business men
who work with it are advising growers,
processors and manufacturers on exports,
holding conferences for business and in
dustry leaders and otherwise promoting
the export of products made or produced
in North Carolina.
We hope that some arrangement can
be made to keep local school libraries
open during the summer^—a possibility
that is explained in a front-page) news
story today.
There is no authorization to employ
school personnel to keep the libraries
open, but as suggested by the superin-
tende^nt of schools, this could be accom
plished by individuals or clubs imder-
writing the employment of a part-time
worker or by volunteers manning the
libraries.
The more we think of it, the more we
wish that some plan can be put into
operation. The thought of shelves and
shelves of books sitting unused all siun-
mer—when children havp more time to
read than during the school year—is
enough to make any book-lover squirm
with impatience and irritation.
Maybe there wiU be enough squirming
to attain the much-to-be^-desired result.
“Take This ... This Unspeakable Infant And Be Gone!”
M9M
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GREENSBORO DAILY NEWS
SKILL, RKTHAINT. PROPRIETY INVOLVED
Keeping London*s Statues Clean
London is full of statues. Most
ly they are in the many parks and
gardens and squiures that are dot
ted with such lavish grace
throughout the city, but some
stand tiptoe on their monuments
right in the middle of things.
Among the latter are the flying
Eros teetering high above the
traffic of Piccadilly Circus and, of
course, Lord Nelsqii in splendid
snobbish isolation on his column
flanked by the British lions. Many
of London’s statues are familiar
to visitors and to those of us who
pour over the mouthwatering
travel guides to the British Isles.
And all these statues have to be
cleaned. This involves skiU, re
straint, and a certain amount of
delicacy—or would propriety be
the better word? You can’t just
scrub at Nelson’s face, or Mer
cury’s, far less at the “little
bronze lady carrying the lamb,”
and other less comfortably garbed
females, as described below.
The article which follows, titled
“Dirty Work,” is by a staff mem
ber of the Manchesteii Guardian.
Carried in that newspaper’s May
14 issue, it tells about some of the
difficulties encountered in the
job of cleaning up London’s
statues.
By JEAN STEAD
London’s statues are like the
Forth Bridge; work on them nev
er stops. Two men clean them all
the year round. As soon as they
get to the end, the fog and fumes
have taken off all the polish from
the bronze and dulled the Port
land stone and they have to begin
at the beginning again.
The Ministry of Public Build
ing and Works has 300 statues in
its care. Enormous quantities of
lanolin, unslaked lime soda, and
soap are lavished on them and
the Ministry spends 37,000 pounds
a year on their maintenance.
Others are looked after by local
authorities.
Statue-cleaning as a profession
requires a certain temperament,
which, if not built-in, must be ac
quired. Imperviousness to re
marks from the passing public is
necessary. Whenever the cleaners
are working round the hindquar
ters of a horse, someone invari
ably calls out the same tii-ed joke,
telling them to be careful it
doesn’t kick. If they are brushing
a beard, a wag will shout to them
not to pull too many hairs out.
This is one reason why Field
Marshal Smuts, in the exposed
centre of Parliament Square, is
highly unpopular. Also, the lad
der has to be set ahnost vertically
before they can reach it. Epstein
never thought of that. It is dis
liked on artistic grounds as well
—“he looks as if he’s roller-skat
ing.”
Esoteric Tastes
The statues are not judged by
the cleaners only on utilitarian
considerations. Even in whipping
wind or rain, they preserve an
eye to the aesthetic. Their tastes
are decidedly esoteric. The ma
jority favourite is “the little
bronze woman holding a lamb
under her arm” which is tucked
away not far from Queen Mary’s
Garden in Regent’s Park—a
statue most Londoners might be
expected to have m.issed. They
like her, not because she is easy
to clean, but because she is
strangely sympathetic, especially
on a fine day. Like the others,
she has a regular cleaning four
times a year. For bronze, the
process is hot water and a strong
solution of washing soda, follow
ed by a generous plastering with
lanolin, which is polished off
after an hour. Marble has unslak
ed lime and water painted on to
the surface, left for a week and
then rubbed off. Portland stone is
The Public Speaking
It comes closer to home than this. A
local residemt, Walter J. Kelly, who has
many years of experience in the export
and import fields, is working voluntarily
with the council and with the North
Carolina World 'Trade Association, a
group of more than 80 top businessmen
of the state who are helping further the
financial interests of N. C. business
through increased international trade—
not only because it is patriotic, but be
cause it is. profitable and good for the
state.
President's Visit—As
Interpreted By 'Chub'
Even cloi|0r: Mr. Kelly is calling on
manufacturing firms in this immediate
area, receiving, he says, a response that
is encouraging and that may eventually
be reflected in the economic growth of
this area: more dollars in the tills of
every business, right here at home.
Yes, we welcome) World Trade Week
and are pleased to bring to the attention
of readers its vital significance to the
nation, the state and Moore County.
To the Editor:
Will Rogers said all he knew
was what he read in the papers.
According to the papers it looks
like Cousin Lendem Billions
Johnson, our new barn-storming,
beagle-breeding Belshazzer of
national Babylon, has done mint
himself with the liberal press. He
had three pictures taken with no
body but white folks.
Sitting on the front porch in
the rich farming section down
East, trying to get a peep at our
poverty, is sort of like sending a
box of CARE to Aristotle Onassis
or putting John D. Rockefeller on
relief. It is the sam.e kind of po
litical black molasses used by
Mussolini when he was a rider up
and dowA just to see what’s goin’
on, and a say-a to everybody,
where do you work-a, John.
Mixing Rocky Mount and
Goldsboro with Appalachia is like
swimming in the surf at Blowing
Rock. It reminds me of Uncle
Handy Kidd when he got on the
train at Carthage and said,
“Goodbye, old North Carolina,
I’m gone to Laurinburg.”
I am sorry that Cousin Lendem
and his abolishing cohorts didn’t
come by the Sandhills and visit
the Needmore Section. Needmore
was established by Hoover, subsi
dized by Roosevelt, hypnotized
by Truman and paralyzed by Ike
and has been the project of politi
cians for nigh on to thirty years.
No matter how much the do-
gooders, up-lifters and dilly-
dallyers do for Needmore, they
always need more.
The reason for the visit of Cou
sin Lendem was due to the fact
that conservatism was beginning
to take root in and around Rocky
Mount and Goldsboro like crab-
grass in August and something
had to be done, even in the name
of poverty.
Grains of Sand
Mom's the Word
This isn’t a delayed reaction
from Mother’s Day; it’s about
women campaigners.
It used to be that gangs of men
went gallivanting about the coun
try whooping it up for their can
didates, having the biggest sort
of a big time. It was a fine free-
and-easy man’s world. It is so no
longer.
Women have taken over. Mom
campaigns as hard as or harder
than Dad. In fact, quite often the
candidate has the galling experi
ence of being aware that his wife
goes over better than he does.
The crowds tolerate his words of
moderation and good sense but go
into fits when she takes oyer. The
children get into .the act, too.
Mostly they stalk on the fringes,
gazing with distaste as their par
ents kiss babies and hug other
children, but there they are, on
view.
It’s a picture of togetherness
that appeals to the American
preference for heart-throbs over
brain-waves. Look out, gents!
We’ll have a lady prexy yet.
Outer Banks Alarm
Carthage
CHUB SEAWELL
cleaned with a fine spray and a
bristle brush, but no one worries
about the dark stains which ap
pear on it. Those are considered
by the connoisseurs to be “quite
acceptable.”
Nude statues rank high among
the non-favourites. This is be
cause the cleaners feel embarrass
ed when working on them. They
put up canvas screens all round
to protect them from the public
gaze. Mr. Albert Lay, a 31-year-
old cleaner who started the job 10
years ago, likes its never-ending
quality and sees no reason why it
should not go on until he is 65.
He says: “It’s awful cleaning the
nudes at first. You really feel em.-
barrassed. Then you get used to
it. The worst is doing parts of
that devil at Hyde Park Corner.
(The Achilles statue?) There is a
block of offices opposite with a
lot of girls working there who
watch us, ,so we have to screen
for them.” The main reason for
screens, however, seems to be to
protect the cleaners from the
leering gibes.
'Feel It's Alive'
Puritanical feelings apart, the
cleaners find themselves offend
ed aesthetically by other stat
ues—particularly the Guards
Crimea Memorial group in Wa
terloo Place. “Not good at all,”
aays Mr. Lay. “Ugly to clean and
not a bit lifelike. I don’t like
looking at it. 1 think it’s a bad
piece of work.” He may be glad to
know that one of the few works
on London’s statuary to have
been published agrees with him..
In this, it is condemned, concise-
ly:“It looks its best in a fog.” Mr.
Lay likes the Artillery Memorial
at Hyde Park Corner with its
stone howitzer and bronze gim-
ners, a difficult work to clean,
but he says it’s so real, you feel
it’s alive. There is universal af
fection among the cleaners, if
nowhere else, for the Albert Me
morial. “Wonderful. Real crafts
manship,” says Mr. Lay. “Albert
takes two or three weeks to clean,
but none of us mind.”
Cleaning the Peter Pan statue
in Kensington Gardens on a
sunny day is a pleasant job. The
bronze rabbits and mice on the
base have been worn right down
to a bright yellow by the chil
dren’s kisses and stroking hands.
Nelson in Trafalgar Square is too
exalted for the cleaners. He has
to have steeplejacks to attend to
him and his stone is inspected
every quarter, but cleaned only
as a special event.
Gloomy Inheritance
Those who regret London’s
gloomy inheritance of Victorian
public figures and war memorial
statuary would find support
among their preservers. “I
wouldn’t like to see even the ugly
ones pulled down, because our
jobs would go.” says Mr. Lay.
“But if I could choose I think
London should have smaller,
sweeter statues instead.” Like the
lady carrying the lamb in Re
gent’s Park.
At the recent Democratic con
vention in Carthage, Cliff Blue
told one of his tales, as follows:
A man and his wife, who lived
out on one of the outer banks is
lands, were startled by a tele
phone call late one evening. The
husband answered it.
“Hello?” he said. A voice an
swered and he listened, then: “I
don’t know,” he said into the re
ceiver, “Why don’t you call the
Coast Guard?” and then he hung
up.
“What on earth was that?” his
wife asked. “What did they
want?”
“Search me,” said her husband.
“Somebody sort of whispered: “Is
the coast clear?’ and so I said I
didn’t know and I said to call the
Coast Guard. Sure are lots of
stupid people in this world.”
'Ray For Business!
Sad indeed is the tale of the
business executive whose suit to
recover damages for an injury,
under the workman’s compensa
tion act, was refused by the
judge.
It seems the gentleman, a Mr.
Hancock, was in Chicago on a so-
called business trip when he was
injured in what the judge decided
was hardly a business activity.
Said the AP account:
Mr. Hancock’s attorneys argued
that he was in Chicago on orders
of his firm, was injured in the
hotel at which he was registered
and was on his way to dinner
when hurt.
The insurance company said
that, while Mr. Hancock’s em
ployment took him to the hotel,
“it did not require him to stand
at the edge of a balcony and
throw hats and coats over the
balcony railing, the activity he
was engaged in when the accident
occurred.”
Well at least he must have had
a high old time while it lasted.
Eggheads Ahoy!
A recent report of the town
library presents an alarming pic
ture. If you feel that way about
eggheads.
The circulation figures of books
read show non-fiction to be less
than a third lower than fiction.
For those who deplore this sign
that the eggheads are taking over,
there is this consolation: the kids
are still reading a whole lot more
fiction than non fiction. That is:
if you count Winnie The Pooh
and The Jungle Book and Treas
ure Island and Men of Iron as fic
tion. We are never quite sure.
THE PILOT
Published Every Thursday by
THE PILOT, Incorporaled
Southern Pines, North Carolina
1941—JAMES BOYD—1944
Second-class Postage paid at
Southern Pines, N. C.
Katharine Boyd Editor
C. Benedict Associate Editor
Dan S. Ray Gen. Mgr.
C. G. Council Advertising
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Mary Evelyn de Nissoff Society
Composing Room
Dixie B. Ray, Michael Valen,
Thomas Mattocks, J. E. Pate, Sr.,
Charles Weatherspoon, Cllyde
Phipps.
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