May 20, 1969
The N.C. Essay
Page 3
LETTER TO THE
STUDENTS
My Dear Students and Dorm Staff:
Wish .1 knew the right words to
say what is in my heart,but I don't.
I will say, where else but at the
N.C.S.A. can one find such warm and
wonderful people? Thanks seems such
a small word for the wonderful sur
prise party you all gave me, and the
beautiful stereo. I can't believe
ie yet. I don't deserve such kind
ness, but I do appreciate it so very
much. Thank you, thank you, each
and every one that had a part in it,
from the bottom of my heart.
A poet once these words wrote,
"One is rich who has a friend."
I thought how true, he must
have had wonderful friends just
like you.
May God bless each of you real
good. I love you very much.
Hattie Brown
CALENHAR
May 19 - 7:30 P.M. — Lauria McGraw
(Mon.) Recital in the Main Audi
torium.
May 20 - 8:00 P.M.— Singers Guild
(Tues.) Opera Night, excerpts from
The Force of Destiny and
Carmen. Salem Fine Arts Cen
ter.
7:15 P.M.— Martha Lindsey
Recital in the Main Auditor
ium.
May 21 -11:00 A.M.—Student Govern-
C'lGd.) ment Meeting (Officers and
alternates), third floor,
Main Building.
2:00 P.M.—Mr. Gottlieb's
I
Chamber Orchestra. Attend
ance requested.
7:30 P.M. — Composition
Students' Recital in the
Main Auditorium of the Main
Building.
May 23 - 8:15 P.M.—Faculty recital
(Fri.) by Marjorie Mitchell, pian
ist. Main Hall.
May 24 - 1:00 P.M.—Horseback riding
(Sat.)
May 25 - 1:00 P.M.— Bowling.
(Sun.)
CONVOCATION WEDNESDAY
HANDEL : CONCERTO GROOSO NO XI
CONCERTO FOR FOUR HORNS AND
ORCHESTRA ..Sahumann
Attendance Requested 2:00 PM
#317
The shadows moved across the
floor. Eric was a thoughtful child,
had always been a thoughtful, child.
Everyone said so. "Eric is a frail
boy, you must understand. Heavy
activity would be much too detrimen
tal to his health, no, no, too
r 1 s k y. Give him puzzles." "He
draws a little." "Good, it will
keep him occupied."
So, you see, no one was in the
least surprised when Eric left. One
day when the sun was barely hidden
and the rain was making its primary
i courtship to the trees, Eric flew
I away. No one knew, no one noticed.
It was very simple, all too simple.
He had done it many times before
but he had always come back to soft
warm sheets and cream of wheat with
raisins and cinnamon. This time the
little purple faces in his cereal
bowl were silent and the mountains
that his legs made under the blank
ets ceased to rumble and became so
silent, so still.
But it was to be expected.
Time would take care of him, his
mother prayed. Soon it would end
poor baby,, my poor baby. "Yes, I'm
afraid the more advanced stages are
beginning." "D ear, you knew it
would be this way. We can only hope
that the Lord will make it easy for
him."
The s h a d o ws lengthened and
Eric, melting quietly through the
wall, lifted his vision to the last
rays of silken rainlight. He rolled
on his back languishing in the cur
rents of warm air which held him,
supported him. Floating through the
streets, peeping at the windows,
j The flowers in the gardens—all were
j his. Freed from the heavy flesh
! which bound him to his bed, he soar-
Mr. Hardcastle and Kate Hard-
castle (Kathleen Masterson) were sat
isfactorily hilarious in the famous
(and difficult) talking-at-cross pur
poses scene, as were moments later,
Mrs. Hardcastle and Tony Lumpkin in
theirs.
If any scenes seemed to run a
little long—and a few did—like cer
tain exchanges between good friends
Charles Marlow (Randall Rickman) and
George Hastings (Kurt Yaghjian)—it
was the author's fault, for all his
virtuoso performance generally, and
not the actors'.
I left Ford's deeply satisfied—
grateful to the American College The
ater Festival, to the North Carolina
School of the Arts, and to Oliver
Goldsmith. Congratulations all
around are in order. And I felt I
had acquired new insight into the
wisdom of Samuel Johnson, who, back
in 1773, said of "She Stoops To Con
quer": "I know of no comedy... that
has so much exhilarated an audience,
that has answered so much the great
end of comedy—making an audience
merry."
BY LYNNE HEDRICKS
ed high over the city in laughing
antics as The Thunder broke and
spilled its bounty over all the
sleeping streets turning them to
glass, slippery, slick, and Eric
hovered and watched and waited.
Someone somewhere was weeping
softly. From a distance it reached
his ears, imperceptible at first and
then he knew. Time had finished and
Eric's tears, too, ran with his
Mother's through the streets—crying
for all the tears, all the oceans of
man.
But Eric knew no less now than
he had always and with that wisdom
came a smile. "John, I feel very
strange."
And why do I dance?
All
Of Life is contained
compact in the Dance
and the body is
the finest of instruments
for it sounds
the soul
Convulsions-
Explosions-
—Joy caught voiceless in
my throat
carries me surging
upward
in a leap
—I droop down into the
writhe (or shuffle)
of my alone
Spasms of sorrow
in sobbing arms
—I bounce child-high
or stretch cat's legs
in a womans walkings
Dance flows from states of being
and I dance my different dances
in expressing a self
that has no other releasing.
Baskin Appoi
N T E D
(fro^ g. 1)
He is a member of the Modern
Language Association of America,
South Atlantic Modern Language As
sociation, South-Central Modern Lan
guage Association, American Associa
tion of Teachers of French, American
Association of Teachers of Italian,
Japan Society of New York, Sigma
Alpha Epsilon fraternity at UNC-Cha-
pel Hill, Pi Delta Phi, national
French honorary fraternity, and Di
rectory of American’^ Scholars. He
has had published a number of mono
graphs in his major fields of inter
est .
ALL HIGH SCH(X)L AND COLLEGE
f
GRADUATING SENIORS MAY PICK UP
ANNOUNCEMENTS IN THE HIGH SCHOOL
OFFICE BETV'/EEN ^0 -12 and 3-5 p.m.