8 'The Daily Tar HeelThursday, tilOklil SllAOHOU. Editor O Jr. G J 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 - ,. I, U f ! 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 r n i s 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 JL 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 4-q Hg Vdoq&e . GcH- Vcooa, v3Q may pSjHThank wo. L&r sxr foikfna abcvf -Hj , V-J I FfVcS fTVtfsrdent and ve pc&-bmi ned, J IWM Mouse W4H"X " I 1. 1 II II 4V - 1 .. . W Til HI 1 1 r I I 1 . m flU J-" QJten pu zero, Xn lkinnowQ 1 micro- x)JC)f ( N i, . J i r . ASX I ' '- " 1 XT m JS rhe -ko'd illi-temte has ifunsved hi vuam hru i 4e rxuw mrs-ups. UkM oe economy, onces, vrrpio-Yer, 1 really dor': appreciate J 1 1 WW, H i On liiuinr're) Cam 1 r y vs. ortY Cro voe A. V JL I 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. , . 1 4 n seme stain wra l from tri:l, stexnj raked in sir c.-.r I ' w.:IUd U a t 1 tll0w cli r d r eJ ( .r.J c. :i rr.e c al;d :r !:d 1 .!. ir.i .: t t: : , ... were file. One by e t: r.kcJ t.-:rn tor I d.uVt stare tut ed itr.i waed and !cUt If carefully from reading Peter Iknch'ey's new r-uvcl. Aficr sitting much of the afternoon and wa? shadow spread across t' e prison floor, I engrossed companion and walked e!o:v2 tl id neither diJ I. fn .1 th: lr,t cell was pa-..hi Hrrr.i: in 2, f,.;r he lii t :U rr. y :i of v, ! Ml .t..nes i AoJ h.ii the both " hH tars, cuttuLis mouth I'd U aNut the rd ii! day . I : . of ii hit the , r v.i:h r,:ct ', tcd.heet thxt rr.e it rjrs err t r... flrdt.-k hiil:r:t "Is-;; n An ;n til; 2) I : t tend u by .r t f i 1. lUVi V i:;--'d w.-.-pei . . . . -J .. , :..., ; : ;o! r::e 1 U cer ul f re."' t'.'. r y c-r ; :. V. A t v. I ear-ifeJalit. r f i"2 to t :d e r: . u.- ; ev r.J i!.v e Si- a r::.j I'm t: li .rl, sodr rd the dri" i.r r-it ;;ccti.:!.t-t l v.'.r. 1 torr.e re.t e'.J - U a . ry r f frc't

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