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Each time we see a photo
graph of the Washington Monu
ment published In a newspaper
or magazine, a certain July day
comes to mind.
It was hotter than a sizzling
skillet, as only the nation’s Cap
ital can be h^. Sultriness not
withstanding, an urge to climb
up and down the stairs of the
lofty shaft overpowered us.
If you’ve ever made the round
trip on foot, you know It’s no
trivial journey. Even a confirm
ed walker, and our reputation
for that Is well established,
gets more than he bargained for.
On this, our first and last
expedition to the top, we en
countered a serious traffic jam
half way up. Two sailors—their
Innards heavily laden with some
type of joy juice—were seated
on one of the metal steps.
Except for being mutually
Intoxicated, they seemed to have
little In common at the moment.
One sailor wanted to go up, while
the other just as vehemently
desired to head In the opposite
direction.
Since we happened to be
somewhat thinner then than we
are now. It was possible to
squeeze by them. They were
still there, at the time of our
descent. It would be Interesting
to know just how long the dead
lock lasted.
, As consplclous as the two
Inebriated service men, who In
a setting of sobriety would have
appeared clean cut, were the
names. Initials and sundry re
marks Inscribed by visitors
on the shrine’s Interior walls.
Some of the Inscriptions were
closely kin to the obscenities
often scrawled In public rest
rooms. None of the writings
Increased one’s faith In the good
taste of far too many Ameri
cans.
Unfortunately, this pattern of
behavior exists at every spot
where there are historic land
marks. In staid old Boston, for
example, the marble steps of
monuments, and monuments
themselves have been de
secrated by crayon scrlbbllngs
of Initials and names, and sim
ilar markings with bright red
nail polish.
Even that very distinguished
lady, the Statue of Liberty, Is
subjected to Indignities. Au
thorities from coast to coast
admit that vandalism at historic
sites Is nothing new, but they
say It Is greater now than ever
before.
So serious Is the probelm the
National Park Service has
recommended 24-hour guards
at Bunder Hill, where, among
other things. Colonel Prescott’s
sword Is stolen so often from
his statue It Is almost never dis
played.
Because this editor has so
much faith In our younger gen
eration, It disturbs us to chron
icle that a considerable amount
of the abuse comes from young
people. No one can feel happy
about that.
A story on our desk quotes
Edwin W. Small, former exec
utive secretary of the Boston
National Historic Sites Com
mission, as saying he has seen
busloads of school children whip
out lipstick and chalk before
going Inside the Bunker Hill
Monument, a 220-foot shrine.
Deep seated In all of us when
we are kids, and In some of us
all our lives. Is an Instinctive
desire to leave lasting notations
of our presence. John Green-
(Contlnued on Page 2)
The N£W BIRN
WfEKLY
j\rc
VOLUME 7
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, JULY 3, 1964
NUMBER 14
QUITE A HAUL—When James Small, Sr., of New content for 10 exciting minutes. Pictured' are members
Bern, who has a physical handicap, won Pepsi-Cote’s of the Small family, after Jamies, at the left, piled up
free Shopping Spree at Ipock’s Rm and White, the vittles at a check-out counter totaling almost $500.00—
local botthng company was happy to have his son. Photo by Don Hawling (WNBE-TV).
James, Jr., empty meat cases and shelves to his heart’s
OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD—Frances Stewart, who
works for Craven County’s Home Demonstration office,
is not only quite attractive but exceptionally prim.
Whatever the occasion, she is always neat as a pm.
However, attending a livestock show on a rainy day
can bring on complications. Besieged by mud, Prances
abandoned her shoes—and, wouldn’t you know it—
The Mirror got a picture of the loafers, forlorn and
forsi^en.—^Pnoto by Billy Benners.