8 'The Daily Tar HeelThursday,
tilOklil SllAOHOU. Editor
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DlMTA Jamfs, Minahi Editor
Brad Kuirow, Associate Editor
Thomas Jfssiman. Associate Editor
Karkn Rowley, News Editor
Pam KELLEY, University Editor
Martha Waggoner, City Editor
Jim Hummel, Suite and National Editor
Bill Fields, Sports Editor
Mark Murrell, Features Editor
Tom Moore, A rts Editor
Scott Siiarpe, Photography Editor
Melanie Sill, Weekender Editor
MELANIE SILL
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88 th year of editorial freedom
Playing with numbers
Not far behind every argument these days lies a statistic cold,
clean and entirely convincing. Those who claim that blacks are making
gains on campus can point to recent figures showing the percentage of
blacks at UNC at an all-time high, 7.9 percent. Those who argue that
blacks still have not made significant progress at Carolina can speak of
the decrease in black admissions in the freshman class; blacks
represented 11.8 percent of the 1979 class, but this year dropped to
1 1.4 percent.
Certainly, the fact that the black presence at this University is at an
all-time high is an encouraging sign. In May 1978, the UNC Board of
Governors set a goal of 6.8 percent black enrollment for the fall of
1980, and the actual figure of 7.9 percent indicates that the admissions
office has exceeded those expectations. And the presence of blacks on
campus has increased dramatically from the 2.3 percent who were here
in 1970.
When the most recent figures were, released Friday, Chancellor
Christopher C. Fordham emphasized the need for a diversity of the
student body. By this, he showed a willingness to increase the presence
of blacks on this campus.
As indications of the University's commitment to enroll more blacks
and further diversify the student body, he cited the newly created posts
of a University Affirmative Action officer and a vice chancellor for
University affairs who would be involved with minorities and the
disadvantaged.
But those who maintain that the recent figures are not a glorious ray
of optimism also have strong arguments in their favor. The new
offices Fordham speaks so positively about will only be as effective as
the people selected to fill them, and much depends on those selections.
And despite the increased presence of blacks there remains a
discouragingly low percentage of blacks who enroll after they are
accepted, only 60.9 percent. Efforts by the Black Student Movement '
to recruit black high school students may contribute to a higher
enrollment of blacks in the future, but this year's low percentage of
blacks who enrolled after being accepted still cannot be explained
adequately.
The increase in the percentage of blacks here from roughly 7 percent
to 8 percent is indeed a positive sign at which people should not scoff.
Yet the final percentage figureis still far too low in a state where a
quarter of the population is Hack. There are signs that the situation
for blacks on campus may be improving, and that is encouraging. But
despite the slight increase in the percentage of blacks, their relatively
small number at Carolina remains a fact in which we should take little
pride.
Unions in the South
The struggle between Southern industry and Northern unions has
been a long and bitter one. While the recent settlement between the J.
P. Stevens Co. and the Amalgamated Clothing and Textile Workers
Union has perhaps reduced the acrimony between the two groups, it
does not solve their problems: a fair day's work for a fair wage and the
right of the workers to make their own decision on the union question.
The J. P. Stevens Co. has a long history of neglecting its workers,
who have suffered low wages and poor working conditions in the past.
In recent years this situtation had improved somewhat, but one of the
major reasons for this improvement was the drive to unionize the
company's workers that began in 1963. Apparently, the company's
brain trust feared unionization more than it cherished the dollars it
had withheld from the workers. Inthis cast the unions served a useful
purpose. As long as union representatives keep in mind that they must
be fair in ths demands they make upon industry, both can profit from a
unionized company. '
But, in fact, unions in many cases are as guilty in their abuse of
power and money as the owners and bosses they fight. In the South
many workers do not accept the contention that unions exist solely for
the good of the workers. As one worker said this summer, 'I don't
need to pay some guy $20 a month to tell me I need more money."
In towns throughout North Carolina, the need for higher wages is
evident. But many resent unions for valid reasons. Corruption is not
peculiar to company presidents and boards. Union heads have been
known to profit at the expense of the workers, too. Union organizers
have been known to exert pressure in some unpleasant ways, such as
physical threats and psychological manipulation. Companies have
countered with their own propaganda. Often, it seems an old cliche
fits nicely: a cure worse than the disease.
So while the 10 percent of the Stevens employees who have voted
for a union have reason to be glad they are getting what they
wanted 90 percent of the workers remain to be convinced. Their
right to make their own decision should be respected as should their
right to fair wages and decent working conditions. Unions are only a
means to an end; they are not an end in themselves.
WASHINGTON It's not much of a lunch for a top
coordinator for a national presidential campaign.
The coordinator has pushed aside half her limp
hamburger, a few cold french fries and the watery
remains of her soft drink, along with stacks of
campaign literature, mailing lists and itineraries, to talk
to the young man in front of her.
"You want to help John Anderson, you have to give
a little time," she says, handing him several
information sheets. Behind her, what's left of the
Georgetown waterfront is barely visible through
posters covering the plate-glass window of the
Anderson national headquarters.
The cluttered room is packed with the trademarks of
Anderson's campaign. A bicycle is parked in one
corner. Photocopied announcements are Scotch-taped
to posts, walls, desk fronts and windows. A broken
photocopier, like every level surface in the place, is
hidden under piles of T-shirts, buttons, posters,
bumper stickers and campaign kits. Contribution boxes
sit on almost every desk. .
"Is he here for the phone bank?" one worker asks,
then turns to the volunteer. "Can you help with the
phone bank? Come over here."
Another worker holds up his hand and waves for
quiet. "Yeah, go for as much as we can get. This ,
thing's gonna run out of time soon," he says into a
telephone. .
"This thing" is the National Unity Campaign push
to raise up to $2.5 million in donations and loans to pay
for a series of Anderson television spots. The Anderson
camp hopes the ads will help make up for the
independent's exclusion from the Carter-Reagan
debate Oct. 28.
The phone bank was set up the first week of October
to contact previous contributors. The strategy is simple
but necessary: The Illinois congressman has been
forced to ask his supporters to give the campaign the
money that banks refused to risk loaning him.
Upstairs in the two-story headquarters, several
workers are mapping out strategy over pizza and cola.
Behind the closed door of the Anderson press
room also marked with a hand-lettered sign media
workers are stuffing envelopes and making calls, trying
to get press coverage for their candidate.
Ralph Mongeluzo, phone bank director, sits on the
edge of the long wooden table used by volunteers every
night for the past several weeks. Yes, he has time for an
interview. He remembers The Daily Tar Heel and
Anderson's October appearance in Chapel Hill.
r
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in
John Anderson campaigning on campus
...now fighting for 5 percent in polls
"That went national," he says, smiling quickly. The
smile doesn't erase the circles under Mongeluzo's eyes,
and his voice has an edge of weariness as he speaks.
"We raised $1 million in the first nine days," he
says. "We want to get at least $1 million more, maybe
$1.5 million by the 28th (of October). After that, the
money won't do us much good." .
Mongeluzo doesn't .know how many people have
volunteered to work, how many have donated or
loaned money at the 8 percent interest Anderson is
paying, how many people are out working for the
candidate. He seems impatient with the questions,
rattling off numbers mechanically and drumming his
fingers on the table.
When the conversation moves to the 30-second and
five-minute commercials created by media whiz David
Garth for Anderson, though, Mongeluzo's interest
picks up. .
"People are going to want to watch those
commercials over and over again," he says.
"(Republican Ronald) Reagan's and (Democrat
President Jimmy) Carter's ads make you never want to
see them again."
Anderson's plan now is to buy as much air time as he
can and hope to convince the large bloc of undecided
Americans to vote for him, Mongeluzo says.
"We're optimistic, but we're realistic," he says.
"We've got a few good reasons behind our optimism."
Even Mongeluzo, though, can't wave aside the
candidate's declining status in national popularity polls
and Anderson's absence recently in media coverage of
the presidential race.
"We pay attention to polls. You've got to. Cut we
polled 12 percent in New Jersey (in a recent CBS-A'ew
York Times poll) without ever having campaigned
there.
"The undecided bloc is larger than it w as in 1972 or
'76. There are so many people out there just waiting to
be swayed," he says.. "And the support Carter and
Reagan have is so soft. It's not pro-Carter or pro
Reagan, it's anti-Reagan or anti-Carter. That kind of
support is easy to take away."
The New Jersey poll showed that 26 percent of the
state's voters were still undecided. A later poll in New
York by the same service rated the undecided bloc, in '
the state at 23 percent.
Frustration has hit the Anderson camp many times,
Mongeluzo says. His voice is tinged with bitterness as
he talks about the media and public response to
Anderson's showing in his debate against Ronald
Reagan. Though journalists and a panel of speech
experts gave Anderson the edge in the debate, a public
opinion poll several days later showed that the
independent had lost ground w hile Reagan's rating had
gone up several points.
"We were blocked out of the national media for the
next three days. The next time we showed up, they were
gloating about how we'd dropped.
"There's not much you can do when you're blocked
out like that."
Mongeluzo looks at this watch. He's been in and out
of headquarters since 8 a.m.
Mongeluzo doesn't say any more about what the
Anderson people really are working for now. Even
optimistic Anderson supporters realize that their
candidate's chances of a victory are infinitesimal. The
real fight now is to make sure Anderson polls at least 5
percnt Nov. 4 so that he can get federal campaign
funds to pay back loans and other debts.
"We're just going to run the commercials and hope
that people will be convinced," Mongeluzo says.
Melanie Sill, a senior journalism major from Waipahu,
Hawaii, is Weekender editor.
etters to the editor
UyfJbi m if- T n rz 75 m m rrh c tvti O dl if- rt
JL JL
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To the editor:
I attended Chancellor Christopher C.
Fordham' s installation Oct. 12 and
found the inauguration of my former
student and colleague to be a very
moving experience. 1 thought the
occasion reached its apogee" with the
chancellor's speech, articulate and
forceful. Its nadir was the attempt to
expunge former Chancellor Paul F.
Sharp from the University collective
memory, fortunately thwarted by
Professor Daniel Pollitt. The following
lines formed in my mind as I watched
this extraordinary event unfold:
Was there ever a person named
Chancellor Sharp?
Is it Nineteen Eighty-Four?
Was his record consigned to the
"memory hole"
And his picture dropped onto the
floor? .
The fact is that there was a Chancellor
Sharp at Chapel Hill (1964-66). He
found the job of chancellor as defined
by the President to be unfulfilling and
resigned to become president of Drake
University (1966-71). He later became
president of the University of Oklahoma
(1971-78) and is currently president
emeritus and a Regents professor there.
John B. Graham
Alumni Distinguished Professor
of Pathology
Women faculty
To the editor:
I would like to comment on your
editorial, "Bendix affair," (DTH, Oct.
14), in light of the chancellor's report to
the Faculty Council on the status of
faculty women last Friday.
You report that 20 percent of the
faculty is composed of women (in actual
fact the number is 19.4 percent,
3671887); however, I would like to
point out that only 130 (assuming all full
and associate professors are tenured) of
? SI women faculty are tenured i.e. the
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majority of women faculty (65 percent)
are untenured.
The University is responsible for not
only its hiring practices, but also its
promotional and tenuring practices,
since tenured women comprise only 6.9
percent (1301887) of the total faculty.
The critical issue with respect to your
usage of the 20 percent figure is whether
the 65 percent of women faculty, who
are now untenured, will become
permanent members of the faculty, or
whether the "revolving door" will
continue to revolve.
Judith B. Moody
Assistant professor
Department of Geology
'Huntscarn'
To the editor:
We-are living in a day of political
corruption, and yet the average voter
hasn't woken up to what's happening.
Normally, when a person's pocketbook
is squeezed, he wakes up. At the present
time, the liberal politicians are stealing
from the taxpayers at a wholesale rate.
They have their hands in our
pocketbooks and I, as one taxpayer, am
fed up with them.
In our nation, we have recently been
exposed to the dishonesty of Watergate
and now Abscam.
In our state, we've had "Jamscam"
limit o isoilatMMi at tiie liaociliy
and now "Huntscam."
When will the people wake up to the
truth behind the cover-up of the Hunt
Administration on the CETA funds
and now the cover-up of "Highway Bid
Rigging."
If these two cover-ups by Jim Hunt
don't amount to a "Huntscam" then my
sense of morality is all warped. When
common criminals can steal from the
taxpayers and get off with short
sentences and fines, then it's time for the
voters to wake up and realize who is
paying for the cover-up -I say it's a
Huntscam.
J.C.D. Bailey
Rocky Mount
e oil
The Bottom Line
Wormy Idea
Troy Roberts cats worms but only
when his football team wins.
Roberts, it tackle on the Chester High
School team in Chester, S.C., vowed to
cat a live vurm for each point his team
outscorcd opponents by this season. But
that promise was made at the end of bst
season, when the school managed only
two victosies.
This year the Chester Cyclones were
placed in a lower conference, and have
already wen four of ccn fames.
Recently, they clouted an opponent
43-7. Anyway you prepare them, that's a
lot of worms for Roberts.
Hut the stout lineman remains
undaunted, cbirnlng thai worms are
With in protein, and mighty tasty after a
big win.
Tc!: . r II Jjxkpot
When efficiency wa needed (and
humanity disregarded) banks
everywhere copied for the automatic
l!..:l offered 24 hour rvue
hller
With
lights, beeping noises that sang to the
tunc of "If I were a Rich Man," and a
knack for card-shredding at untimely
moments.
Now, they may just be turning a new
trick providing the daily jackpot.
Phil and Julie Spickler, of Miami,
Ha., may have hit the lucky draw when
their automatic teller spit out five
misprinted $20 bilk with an estimated
value of $1,000. The bills apparently
slipped t! t'r third and final step in
printing at the U.S. Bureau of
Enravin according to officials. They
were missing the Federal Reserve Hank
seal and serial numbers, which a
personal banker miht have noticed, but
the machine y lanced over.
Each bi!l could be worth between S 150
and $200 to rare-bill collectors,. The
Spivklers are still trying to find out if
they're "in the hricU" or simply
possessors of $100 in useless funny
money. We certainly hope thc.fv is the
former t,ase, and promise to inspect our
money at the
now on.
By MURPHY EVANS
Murmurs and the Rolling Stones, iron bars and thick
cement walls. Screams run back and forth in the
disciplinary section of the Rocky Butte Jail. Fighters,
fcss, madmen, a jailer and me like an open zipper in
jeans, jacket, and my Nike joking shoes.
I had called the jail's superintendent and convinced
hirn to allow a college student a day inside a
correctional institution. I was working with a sheriffs
office, and I told him I wanted to see every side of
criminal justice. But actually soda! deviance fascinated
me, and the hands of a murderer and eyes of a rapist
are vvhat drew me toward the Rocky Butte Jail, where I
spent a day with the social outcasts of a prislon
community.
Two men in faded prison uniforms were walking the
length of a narrow corridor which separated individual
cells from the wall of crossing bars, This was their
exercise for the afternoon: 33 minutes of slidir.j feci
slons a cement floor. Thirty minutes and then back in
their little cubes with pull-daw n bunks and dog-cared
paperbacks. Two men then two more, and av the day
passed ( saw a prtxtrnkm of inmates. Meanwh.e, the
jailer vat scratching the crotch of his khaki fin and
Benchley and visited the incarcerated.
The first cell was barren. It wa3 a perfect cube no
bunks, no toilet, not even a light bulb. Only an tr.mite
on the floor, scattered paper cups, walls and empty
space. The man lay perfectly still with his cups about
him and he talked.
"...see what I done was good. They couldn't catch
me. He said there won't no right, end I laughed end
kept on going....'
He continued talking and faeir.j the a!l. He spoke
about a dos in the read and how he wcr.t up to the drj
end kicked him "I.kc this." His !:s j:rkcd ed kicked
over one of the cups, end urine flowed out over the cell
floor, so I walked cn.
Two cells dow n was a boy in his early 20. 111 arms
fccre tar.leJ in the bars cf the cell doer, end as I
gpprcaehed he spoke to me,
'V.'h:n'i the doctor com;: , I need the doctor, man,
where is he? I'm breakirj up, 1 never been thh br.
end I never teen in here end I'm fill; r. 3 spart.
In the next few cells were ir.ma:: reading by the
!;ht cr jutt lyinj don iuhir- ilzilr.? it
reives, sr.j i.uerun to v.: trcuon ra-.u.
would turn their heads arvJ s?eh rr.e at I willed by,
but most ere too tired. They didn't Uvcr.uch to wy
else. Is that why they put me up here so you can wal
by end take a look and later tell friends that you have
seen a Paula Hernandez? Well then here, lock et rr.e."
He laughed and bean to unwind the bed-sheet.
"Lock end tell me what's wrong with me. You should
know. You came here to find out, didn't you?" 1
turned away. "Won't you look now end tell me what
you sec? Not now? Come back later then end tell me,
cr better come in here and vi .;i. I'll be here if you come
tack."
She was laughing as 1 uhuffied tack to the fuard
area. I uer.t unnoticed past the cells er.d lock my scat,
end credually her bushing quieted, end 1 watched the
jiller read and pull et h; khaku.
of She section to let me cut. I walked &
end, passing ether section, came to a second door
where a jailer cn the ether side wai'ed. We w-lked to
the tick entrance, where 20 tr.ma'.es.
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reading Peter Iknch'ey's new r-uvcl.
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shadow spread across t' e prison floor, I
engrossed companion and walked e!o:v2 tl
id neither diJ I.
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