Newspapers / Chowan University Student Newspaper / April 1, 1979, edition 1 / Page 10
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Three People in One: Agnes White Thomas By WILLIAM RUEHLMANN Ledger-Star Staff Writer NORFOLK—This is a woman who once earned $1,500 for writing one line of light verse. Eat your heart out, Rod McKuen. This is also a woman who wrangled a job teaching col lege by pulling a fast one on the phone. And this is a woman who single-handedly started an an nual author’s conference here because “well, somebody should.” Agnes White Thomas, 68, believes in PMA. “That’s a Positive Mental Attitude,” Mrs. Thomas said. “Believe in God and yourself, and you can do anything. PMA.” She spoke in her Meadowbrook Gardens apartment knitting a white tam o’shanter. Mrs. Thomas doesn’t want to lose a whole hour just sitting around and being inter viewed. So she knits. Beside her on the couch is a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Dinner. On the back of the box is an entry blank for a contest to win a 1978 Ford Fiesta. Contestants must finish the phrase “I like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Din ner because” in 25 words or less. “I’m going to win that car,” Mrs. Thomas said. PMA. Maybe you think she won’t. Here are a few of the things she has won in the past; An electric range, a sailboat, two ponies, twenty-five watches, three refrigerators, two fur coats. Sixteen television sets. “Each of my relatives has one in every room,” Mrs. Thomas explains.. An electric blanket. A basketball. A baby palm tree. Paul Anka’s bulky gold Italian sweater. “I gave that to my daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Thomas says. “She was impressed.” PMA. And a brain quicker than a pickpocket at a sheriff’s Christmas party. As her friends will attest, Agnes White Thomas is at least three people. It is said if you stand still and concen trate you can see these people passing each other on a par ticularly busy day. Let us take them one at a time. Agnes White Thomas, contestant. Twenty years ago, Mrs. Thomas saw an ad in the local paper for Barr Brothers Jewelers. There were dots all over the ad, thousands of them, and the person who could correctly count the dots would win a wrist watch. In case of a tie, the most original entry would win. “How do you be original counting a bunch of dots?” Mrs. White wondered. PMA. She knitted a wool watch and submitted her entry on that. In retiun she won one with 30 diamonds on it. Then she won a fur coat by counting the leaves on a tree in another ad. She sent her entry in with a box of real leaves and a poem. The poem: “Leaves, leaves, everywhere. “I see them when I sleep. “When I have insomnia “I count leaves instead of sheep.” This continued. When she won |1,500 from Overton’s Market for telling why she went there (Mrs. Thomas isn’t sure of the line any more, except she coined the word “quizzard” in it), other ladies who won lesser prizes con tacted her for pointers. Thus began the Sport of Entry Club, comprised of a dozen women who still get together once a month to share entry blanks, contest bulletins and competitive arcana. “Contesting isn’t what it was,” Mrs. Thomas points out. There was a time when she was averaging $l,000-plus a year in winnings. Now it comes in increments, like the $5 Mrs. Thomas won for a National Safety Council jingle last month. The villian: sweepstakes. “All you have to do is sign your name for those,” she says. “That’s not very creative. And,” she adds with distaste, “it’s gambling.” Editor’s Note: The following article is reprinted with permission from THE LEDGER-STAR of Norfolk, Va. The story was written by William Ruehlmann and the photograph is by Karen Kasmauski. They appeared in the Daily Break section of THE LEDGER-STAR We would like to thank Kay T. McGraw, editor, The Daily Break, for her assistance. “Agnes Thomas never wastes a minute, and I mean never. ” —Winifred Martin Past President Sport of Enfry Club Sweepstakes don’t require the “qualies” (qualifying boxtops, coupons) the more inventive contests do. They don’t have judges. Nobody to recognize the unsung $100 genius who wrote this forgotten gem: “Within this vale “OftoU “And sin “Your head grows bald “But not your chin. “BURMA-SHAVE.” Or this: “Yes, I’d like a special name to call “This finer shortening by. “Swift’s Bland Lard outperforms them all, “All Cook’s Tours testify.” Or Mrs. Thomas’ own award-winning send-off for the conHmonhotdog: “It’sBUNderful!” Oh Donne, oh Milton, oh Edgar Guest. “Some say it’s a dying art,” Mrs. Thomas says with a sigh. “But we’re always hopeful they’ll come back. There’s still enough to keep us interested and at it.” * Agnes White Thomas, teacher. She was the oldest girl in a family of 12 reared in the backwoods hills of North Carolina. The daughter of a farmer, she admired her two aunts, who were teachers. “I never did any plowing,” Mrs. Thomas recalls, “but I did just about everything else. I fed the pigs, milked the cows, dug peas, harvested tobacco. Even then I was in terested in English and writing.” She wrote papers for other students at a quarter apiece. Mrs. Thomas was valedictorian of Murfreesborough High School. By borrowing money and waiting on tables in a boarding house, she kept on going for her baccalaureate at Chowan College, majoring in English. “I couldn’t get a job after I graduated,” Mrs Thomas says. “Everybody asked me how much experience I had. Well, I was 21 years old and I didn’t have experience in anything but picking cotton.” She got a position in Norfolk as a waitress. It lasted ex actly one night. Let’s just say I was insulted by some of the men who came in,” Mrs. Thomas says, “what you might caU fresh boys.” But one of those she met that night was a gentleman. He Mrs. Thomas with rhymes to spore on file asked the proprietress to introduce him. (Mrs. Thomas had been taught not to talk to strangers unless properly in troduced.) That was W.O.Thomas, in the heating and air condition ing business. He didn’t drink. He followed her back to the farm. “He was,” Mrs. Thomas says waimly, “a Christian man.” They were married. Mrs. Thomas had four children, all grown now and themselves parents. When the boys were in school, Mrs. Thomas took up teaching again, first as a substitute, then as a tutor for homebound students. One day, when Old Dominion University was still an ex tension school of the CoUege of William and Mary, Mrs. Thomas called the school to enroll in a creative writing class. She was told there was unfortunately no such class. PMA. “I thought for a while,” Mrs. Thomas says. “Then I changed my voice and called back. I said, “I hear you’re looking for a creative writing teacher...” She got the job. She has bwn teaching there since. One friend and former student, Lottie Pidgeon, learned her lesson well. Mrs. Pidgeon has won 12 bikes, several appliances, a boat and a brand new MG. Agnes White Thomas, writer. More than two decades ago, somebody wrote a story in The Virginia-Pilot saying substitute teachers were mere “baby sitters.” Mrs. Thomas, substitute teacher, was no baby sitter. She saw red. Her article on the value of such teaching appeared in the newspaper as a response. That was her first literary sale. She got $25. After that, her poetry began appearing in The Saturday Evening Post, The Wall Street Journal, Grit. 20^20 Vision “Her face was not real pretty, “Her hair an awful sight; “But her dress was cut so low “He could have glanced all night.” Encore: Continued on Next Page or April-May, 1979 PAGE ELEVEN
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April 1, 1979, edition 1
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