Page Two
Hie Chapel Hill Weekly
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
ltt E. Rnwsry Talaphow »-1271 or 8461
Pablwhcd Every Tuesday and Friday
By The Chapel Hill Publishing Company, Ine.
Louis Graves Contributing Editor
Jot Jones Managing Editor
Billy Arthur Auoetate Editor
Chuck 11auses Associate Editor
Orville Campbell General Manager
O. T. Watkins Advertising Director
Fred Dal* . Circulation Manager
Charlton Campbeli Mechanical Supt.
Enured as second-class matter February tS. 1823. at
the postoffice at Chape! Hill. North Carolina, under
the act of March 3. 18T9
SUBSCRIPTION RATES
In Orange County, Year 54.50
(6 months $2.25; 3 months, $1.50)
Outside of Orange County by the Year:
State of N. C., Va., and S. C. ——4 ho
Other States and Inst, of Columbia 6.00
Canada, Mexico, South America 7.00
Europe 7J>O
The Evil of Hitter Partisan Spirit Is
Counteracted by the Independent Vote
From an article by Gerald W. John
son in the New Republic about the
splits in the two political parties:
"In the Northwestern corner of the
country Senator Wayne Morse has slid
down into the Democratic party. Half
the populace think that Senator Wil
liam Langer is sliding, and the papers
recently have been commenting on the
uncomfortable status of Representative
Usher L. Burdick, technically a Repub
lican, actually a Non-Partisan Leaguer,
and with a son now running for Sena
tor on the Democratic ticket. Land
ownership, family relationship, and the
instinct of survival all seem equally ef
fective in eroding party loyalty, which
is now close to becoming a facetious
term."
In the Minnesota primary contest
Stevenson emphasized his position as
the Democrats’ titular leader and was
decisively defeated by Kefauver.
“His strategy was wrong,” says Mr.
Johnson. “He can win only as the leader
of liberalism, with the Democratic party
following if only for the loaves and
fishes.. He cannot win as the titular
leader, or any other kind of leader, of
the Democratic party, because the vot
ers \rftio are going to decide the issue
don’t give a pair of hoots about the
Democratic party."
Which means that the issue will
be decided by the independent voters—
men and women who do not hesitate to
switch from one party to another ac
cording to their preference in any par
ticular election.
Two parties make the best frame
work for the conduct of the i govern
ment and it is fortunate that there is a
considerable element of men and women
who are zealous enough partisans to
run the party organizations and to raise
the sort of ballyhoo that is needed to
remind the electorate that it had better
be an electorate than to go off fishing
or golfing when voting day comes. It
is still more fortunate that there is a
number of people running into the mil
lions, a number far more than enough
to hold the balance of power, who, in
Mr. Johnson’s phrase, don’t care a pair
of hoots how these partisans advise
them to vote, but vote as they please.
The extent to which some citizens
can be carried away by partisan bitter
ness, in this time of dangerous crisis
for our country, when there is such
urgent need of national unity, is indeed
I depressing. No doubt you meet in your
I acquaintance, as I do in mine, somebody
I who is such a rabid Republican or such
I a rabid Democrat that he speaks of
I Stevenson or Eisenhower almost as
I though he were speaking of one of our
I vicious and powerful enemies beyond
I the Iron Curtain. I thank God that we
I have in America millions of people who
I have not allowed themselves to drink
I so deeply of partisan spirit that they
I have become thus poisoned.
I' Os course Ido not fail to respect
I anybody’s attachment to a party. What
II mean is that lam glad that there are
I not an overwhelming number of people
Iso tightly attached that they exagger
late wildly the merits of their own party
land the faults of the other.
I Senator Morse has changed from the
■ Republican to the Democratic party,
land he should not be blamed for this if
■his conscience tells him it is the right
■thing to do. And let Democrats remem-
Iber that one of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s
■most famous statements was that he
■had not hesitated to vote for a Repub
lican when he thought the Republican
■candidate was the best man for the of-
Ifice.— L.G.
The Quality of Public School Instruction
The discussion of what should be
taught in the public schools, and of
the division of time and emphasis
among the various studies and activi
ties, goes on steadily in the newspapers
and magazines. It is highly spiced with
difference of opinion. The main argu
ment is over these two questions: Are
the basic academic subjects being neg
lected in favor of those that are some
times called frills? And is the domin
ant idea in the schools too little toward
hard work and discipline and too much
toward making education fun for the
boys and girls?
One of the most interesting articles
about instruction in the public schools
that I have read appears in the Atlantic
for May. It is entitled “What Shall
We Do With the Dullards?” It is only
three pages long. The author is Caspar
D. Green. The opinions expressed by
Mr. Gret-n have a peculiar value because
of his career: He was a school teacher;
then for thirteen years he was in the
United States Foreign Service, where
he had the opportunity to observe
schooling in European countries; and
for the last two years he has taught
in high schools in Ohio.
The theme of his article is indicated
in this opening passage: “About a gen
eration ago attendance at school in
America ceased to be limited 1 to a few
years or the more fortunate children
and became in reality what it had been
in theory, an almost universal fact.
This change has, on the one hand, caus
ed traditional ideas of the immediate
purpose and function of the schools to
be regarded as out of date; and, on the
other hand, it has profoundly altered
the frame of ideals, attitudes, and pres
tige within which the schools work.’’
Mr. Green, reviewing the records of
students he has taught, tells of having
found distressingly poor performance
by a large proportion of them. He speaks
of a statement that he has often heard:
that, “although poor students are learn
ing little or nothing in the way of
knowledge or skills, perhaps they are
having a valuable social experience—
absorbing social attitudes, learning to
work with others, acquiring background
for citizenship.” IJe does not find it so.
“Upon examination,” lie says, “the val
ues which are inculcated turn out to
be largely these: a firm conviction that
one can get by without working; an
idea that quality of workmanship is of
slight importance; a systematically cul
tivated indolence; a habitual feeling
that the day’s work is an annoying
intrusion upon one’s private somno
lence; and a whole mass of bad atti
tudes and bad habits.”
I advise everybody who is at all
interested in public school education
to read Mr. Green’s article. I am quot
ing only a Small part of it but I do
not want to end without recommending
for special attention what he says about
the usefulness of old-fashioned academ
ic training in earning a living. “A good
secretary is distinguished from a poor
one largely on the basis of English. A
good file clerk is marked by competence
in reading. A receptionist and telephone
operator will find her advancement to
be conditioned on her satisfactory use
and reasonably wide comprehension of
oral English. Whether the pupil be
longs to the pre-college or pre-trade
group, academic subjects are the pivots
upon which his career will turn.”
And listen to this: “Plumbers re
port that it is hard to find young men
who can understand written instruc
tions, calculate lengths, sizes, capaci
ties, and rates, make out bills, or keep
accounts.”
One criticism that Mr. Green makes
of many schools is that: “They try
to motivate learning by presenting it
as fun. The teacher is put in the posi
tion of an entertainer. He must amuse
and entertain his audience; if he can
also teach, fine. But he can’t teach
unless his subject is entertaining.”
Mr. Green’s conclusion is:
“When any individual reaches the
stage of interferring with the good
workmanship of others, he should be
withdrawn from school. He may be a
social problem or a problem of some
other kind, but he has ceased to be a
school problem. For a school should
not be diverted from great constructive
ends to picayune, sentimental, and re
trogressive side-issues; it should not
sacrifice a major quality of civiliza
tion to an unrealistic concern for an un
fortunate group which, although a real
social problem, is not an educational
one. In brief, we need less concern for
making the schools practical and much
more awareness of the practicality of
the scholastic.'’—L.G.
THE CHAPEL HILL WEEKLY
On the Town
Lin i~~ tttti —HT- By Chock Hao»«r mmwmmmmmwmJl
AN OPEN LETTER
To: Robert Young, president of the University
student body.
Dear Bob,
When I read the Friday morning issue, of The
Daily Tar Heel, I had an immediate impulse to (1)
write a column about the recommendations of your
Traffic Advisory Commission, and (2) write you a
letter telling you how I felt about the rapid and de
cisive action which you took in relation to the parking
and traffic problem immediately after assuming your
office as president a few weeks ago. I am at this
moment combining the two actions.
As I have pointed out in these columns before,
the reason the Chapel Hill Weekly is concerned is
that the “problem,” as such, is essentially the town’s,
but the automobiles which are helping to create the
problem are to a large extent owned by students. This
is because student cars are prohibited from parking
on the campus: they overflow into the village, drain
ing off the parking spaces which are ordinarily avail
able for the usual vehicular traffic of a town the size
of Chapel Hill.
The traffic problem has been kicking around here
for a long time. Each year it grows worse, and this
past year has been an exceptionally critical one. So
critical, in fact, that the University Board of Trustees
threatened to take action if action was not taken on
the local level.
. Your immediate predecessor, motivated by good
intentions but reluctant to take positive action for
fear of alienating his constituents, did nothing about
the traffic and parking problem except appoint some
study committees (which came forth with nothing
concrete) and talk rather wistfully about building some
big parking lots on University-owned land.
Within a matter of days after you came into
office, you had appointed an active group which took
its responsibility seriously and which has come up
with a set of recommendations that reflect sound
thinking and much hard work. You endorsed those
recommendations (with a couple of minor changes)
and Dean of Student Affairs Fred Weaver, a strong
exponent of student autonomy, will undoubtedly back
you up by passing the student report on to the visiting
committee of the Board of Trustees.
I am still not certain that restrictions of student
ownership of automobiles is the only solution (or even
a necessary partial solution) to the problem. However,
I strongly agree that it is A partial solution, and I am
happy to see that you and your Traffic Commission
have shown the courage to recommend it.
Your report, of course, neither solves the problem
nor ends the Great Debate of 1955-56 on the University
campus. More study will have to be made and more
reports will be necessary. A few weeks ago I used
these columns to offer a suggested solution (partial)
of my own to the controversy. Jt consisted of two ma
jor recommendations, one of which has been incorpo
rated in your report (the imposition of a registration
fee on student car owners, the receipts to go to en
forcement of regulations and construction of additional
parking facilities). 1 think my other recommendation
(that a no-student parking zone be established to
extend two or three blocks from the perimeter of the
campus on all sides) still deserves serious considera
tion for the future. I am sure it will be given such
consideration, as will any sincere suggestions that
might aid the situation during the period ahead when
study and work on the problem continue.
Again, Bob, my congratulations to you and your
Traffic Commission for your fast action, your hard
work, and your singular courage in endorsing what
will be to many an unpopular set of recommendations.
I am sure that you can count on both the University
administration and the officials and citizens of the
town of Chapel Hill to cooperate with you fully. After
all, it is OUR problem.
Sincerely,
Chuck Hauser
Chapel Hill Chaff
(Continued from page 1)
the news that a few minutes
after leaving the ground she
had ascended beyond the rain
clouds and the wind to a
region of bright sunshine.
Through this fair sweet wea
ther she proceeded smoothly
to Boston.
When I learned of this I
thought: How much better than
going by train or car on such
a day! A look at my Eastern
Air Lines time-table shows me
that her plane left the Ra
leigh-1) urham airport at 8 a.
m., stopped only at Washing
ton and New York, and arrived
at Boston at 1:10. Total elapsed
time, 6 hours and 10 minutes.
Actual flying time (that is,
counting out the two stops),
4 hours and 86 minutes.
» • •
When I met Robert E. Coker
a day or so ago after he and
Mrs. Coker had got back from
visits to Mississippi and New
Orleans he told me that, going
from Oxford (the seat of the
University of Mississippi) to
New Orleans, he had ridden on
a train for the first time in
about twenty years. The trip
going they made on an Illinois
Central local train in 8 hours
and the trip coming back to
Oxford, likewise on the I. C.,
they made in 6 hours on an
express. "It was such a novelty
we got a real thrill out of it,"
said Mr. Coker.
I gathered, however, that
neither he nor Mrs. Coker
would be willing to resume
traveling by rail—whether cin
ders down your neck and in
your eyes on a local or the
luxurious accommodations on
an express—as a regular thing.
They prefer an automobile or
an airplane. In the last year
or so they have become ac
customed to flying up and
down the Atlantic coast and
over the Bahamas and the An
tilles and the Virgins and var
ious other Caribbean islands.
After this sort of going to and
fro becomes part of your rou
tine neither the Illinois Cen
tral nor any other railroad can
make a good bid for your favor.
• • •
We have beside our auto
mobile driveway a snowdrop
that we feel sure is phenome
nal for height. 1 wouldn’t say
this with such confidence if
it were not for the fact that
the plant was gazed at with
amazement and admiration by
two naturalists—lvey F. Lewis,
retired professor at the Uni
versity of Virginia, and Wal
ter Prichard Eaton, retired
critic of the drama in New
York, retired professor of
drama at Yale, and author of
many books about outdoors
and both declared they had
never seen the dainty Jittle
green-flecked white blossom
called a snowdrop growing so
far from the ground. Mr.
Lewis, who writes about flow
ers in scientific language, and
Mr. Eaton, who writes about
them in the language of poetry
and drama, are equally loony
on the subject and, in view of
their world-wide observations
and stored-up knowledge of
plant life, if you can surprise
or impress either of them with
any tree, shrub, or flower you
are really doing something.
From the way they bent over
our snowdrop and peered at
The
Roundabout
Paper*
smmM J - A. C. Dunn . -r-x'-S
EVEN IF LIFE ISN’T ter
ribly profitable sometimes, af
ter that grisly night last week
I certainly can’t say it isn't
exciting—or at least varied,
if not exactly blood-chilling,
Luckily I had had supper
when it all took place. If I
hadn’t had any food inside me
I don’t know what would have
happened. It’s an ugly thing
to speculate over. It all hap
pened down at station WCHL.
I buzzed down there after sup
per to do a little programming
work, and Hank Cheney was
there when I arrived, as well
as a carpenter. The carpenter
was hanging a new front door
on the building. I started in
to work. The carpenter left.
So did Hank. I remember
Hank’s last w ; ords: “When you
leave don’t lock the door be
cause it has a new lock on it
and Ty Boyd doesn’t have a
key yet, and he has to open
the station at 5:30 tomorrow
morning.”
O. K. Don’t lock the door.
I finished my work, turned
off the lights, left without
locking the door, and drove
home. No sooner had I arrived
home than I suddenly remem
bered I had forgotten to turn
the power off in the radio
station. Os course the trans
mitter wasn’t on because I
hadn’t been broadcasting, but
the power for the turntables
was on. I went back again
to turn the power off. Can
you imagine my horror when
1 found the door locked? I
doubt it. Obviously, what 1 had
done was walk out without
trying the door, thinking the
lock was unlocked, if you fol
low, when actually the lock
was locked, and I had inad
vertently locked the door. And
Ty had to get in tomorrow
morning before anybody was
awake and he didn’t have a
key. And I ilidn’t have a key.
Who did?
1 went back up the hill again
and stopped in at the Graham
Memorial to use the telephone,
it didn’t occur to me to use
Brady’s telephone, or Dr.
Vine’s. No. All the way up the
hill. Telephone Hank. Didn’t
answer. Telephone Pokey Alex
ander. Not at home, won’t be
in until midnight. Telephone
•Sandy McClamroch. Not at
home, said the baby sitter, and
1 just can’t recall where he
went to. J prompted the baby
sitter’s memory. Very import
ant J get hold of Mr. Mc-
Clamroch NOW. Oh, yes, now
she remembered, and gave me
the telephone number. Get hold
of Sandy.
“Sandy,” I said, “I pulled
what we in. the trade call a
blooper.” I explained.
"J’ve got a key,” said San
dy. “Just go by my house and
get it. i’ll call the baby sitter
and till her where to find
it for you.”
Much obliged. Go to Sandy’s
house way down on Stage
coach Road. King. Footsteps.
Ring. Dog barks. Door opens.
Baby sitter hands me key.
Dog comes with it and prowls
around doorstep.
After a few minutes the
baby sitter and J between us
persuaded the dog that where
it really ought to be was IN
SIDE DAMMIT YOU Hot ND.
1 departed for the radio sta
tion.
Arrived at WCHL, I tried
a likely-looking key in the lock.
It fitted, but it wouldn’t turn.
I tried the other key on the
same loop. It fitted but it
(Continued on Page 3)
it you might have thought
they were bending over a mint
julep or a gin fizz or one of
Mrs. Eaton’s rum cocktails or
something else worth a nor
mal man’s attention. We meas
ured the plant and found that,
including the little flower,. it
stood 36 V 6 inches high.
* * «
When I was looking up the
record of William Horn Battle,
founder of the University Law
School, in connection with the
gathering of his descendants
here last week, I found an
amusing anecdote about him
in the History of the Univer
sity written by his son, Kemp
P. Battle.
He was in bad health in his
early manhood, in the 1830’s,
and his doctor prescribed a
remedy popular in those days
—and for all I know it may
be popular now; I don’t see
why not—a toddy before break
fast. One morning while dress
ing he called out:
“Old Woman,” (a playful
name he gave his wife), “I
will not take another toddy.”
“Why?” she asked. “I think
it is doing you good.”
‘’Well, I think so too,” he said,
“but I’ve found myself dress
ing fast in order to get to it.
Don’t make me another.”
i Like Chapel Hill
I’ve about run the whole gamut of people and
things to confuse, because last week I did a little job
of turning N. C. Memorial Hospital upside down.
In the first place, to get in I had to sign more
papers than when I got a loan on the house.
To be sure that I was impressed with the entire
procedure, the lady escorting me from the admissions
office to my room walked me by an office, pointed and
said, “Now that’s the business office where you settle
up before you leave.”
I wasn’t as concerned then about that as I was
finding Room 603 West and learning what it looked
like.
It was comfortably appointed with a bed higher
off the deck than I, a bed lamp I couldn’t reach to turn
on and off, and a bedside table that moved out of range
whenever I wanted something.
They just don’t build hospitals for people like me
anymore.
Whenever I placed a chair alongside the bed to
enable me to crawl in and out, some furniture mover
would come in and rearrange the room. So I had to
stay abed.
Came time for me to don a gown, and the one
brought in was for an average 45-year-old. Not for
below-the-average me. “Whatcha gonna do?” I asked
James Horton of Pittsboro, one of the orderlies, as
he went out the door. When he returned, I learned he
was a resourceful fellow. He had procured for me a
lovely gown with colorful clowns, merry-go-rounds,
performing lions, parading elephants and aerialists.
It came from the pediatrics ward.
He didn’t think a crib from the same ward would
help my bedding-down affairs one whit.
He was as attentive as Cofield (no one on the
floor knew his first name; he’s from Durham), who
brought me a paper the next morning, and Robert
Pendergraft of Chapel Hill. When I didn’t have any
change to pay for the paper, Cofield happily said, “This
is on me.” I thanked him. And I also thanked Robert
for helping me dress, collect my things and escorting
me to the waiting car.
The only complaint I had was that no coffee f was
served until 8 a. m., and I’m usually an early riser.
But when it was served, along came a half grapefruit,
ham, scrambled eggs, toast, jelly and an extra pot of
coffee. Good food, and I didn’t hesitate to tell the
Missus. “You pay me $26 a day, and I’ll give you all
that food and service!” she exclaimed.
Mother’s Day Is May 13th
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CLOSED WEDNESDAYS AT ONE
OPEN FRIDAY EVENINGS TILL NINE
1 ■ ■
422 W. Franklin St. *— Phone 8-451
Tuesday, May 1, 1956
By Billy Arthur