Page 2-B
| The Chapel Hill Weekly
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ORVILLE CAMPBELL. Publisher JAMES SHUMAKER, Editor
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Dale Ranson: Running Wasn’t All
Every time Murphey Dale Ranson
got hold of a boy he made him run. In
the course of 38 years as a track coach
he got hold of a lot of boys, college stu
dents and high school students, and as
A result there are a lot of men around
this State now who know how to run.
Running isn’t everything. Coach Ran
son knew that. But nothing else was
“everything” either, and there are few
outdoor sports that don’t involve run
ning. Coach Ranson knew that too. Run
ning was basic, to him. It was integral,
indispensable, essential, and a whole lot
of other things, including fascinating.
His whole life was built around running,
interwoven with it, wedded to it.
“It’s the most natural form of ath
letics in the world,” he said only a few
months ago. He was ill at the time. He
knew he wasn’t going to do any more
funning himself, and neither was he
going to teach anybody else to run any
more. But his world was still blurred
v with flashing feet, filled with the sound
of crunching cinders. “You look at the
little ones: as soon as they can stand
up they start running, and when they
get a little older they’re always trying
to bounce up into the air, jump and
run.”
But he wasn’t just a track coach. Any
Elsie Webb’s Head Isn’t The Answer
Most of the State’s major daily news
papers and at least one television sta
tion have been calling hungrily for High
way Commissioner 4 Jilsie Webb’s head
as a result of the high odor surrounding
the relocation of U. S. 220 in Richmond
County.
On the face of the evidence revealed
so far, Mr. Webb would seem to have
been rummaging in the highway cookie
jar, and Governor Sanford’s leaky de
fense of his appointee has been patently
misleading.
As usually happens in these little
Cookie jar cases, however, on the State
and Federal level, the outcry is almost
exclusively against the one who got
greedy. Only rarely do these little indis
cretions produce any serious examina
tion of the systems that encourage
them.
In North Carolina, highways tradi
tionally represent political plums. Po
The Onus Is On Jonas For A Change
Several months ago Rep. Charles R.
Jonas, as a potential Gubernatorial can
didate, represented a sore dilemma for
Democratic strategists. This coming
weekend, Mr. Jonas will make his long
awaited decision and, ironically enough,
whatever he decides will constitute a
much sorer dilemma for the Republican
Party than it ever did for the Demo
‘cr|ts.
If Mr. Jonas decides not to run, it
will be widely interpreted as an unof
ficial surrender of the State House to
the Democrats, a tacit admission that
the best bet the Republicans had to of
fer was really nothing but an empty
bluff.
General Eisenhower’s Latest Crusade
The Republican Party is making or
ganizational sounds in Mooresville, an
otherwise calm and sensible town, and
.the most eminent trumpeter is none
other than General Dwight D. Eisen
hower, in absentia of course.
In a letter to Mooresville Republicans
the General said, “It is my clear im
pression that the citizens have opened
their eyes to the evils of one-party gov
ernment which ties North Carolina and
tier sister States to the tail of a left
wing kite. Reports are streaming in to
me from all across the nation of a rap
idly rising, indeed a crusading, en
Wednesday, October 28, 1963
body who knows about running can be
just a track coach. Coach Ranson was al
so a target.
“No boy who ever worked under him
ever thought of him as just a coach,"
said one of the men who knew him best.
“There was something else too. There
was a love there. Those boys figured
that if they could be like Coach Ranson
they wouldn’t ever have to worry about
doing the right thing.”
Coach Ranson disbelieved in anger
and harshness just as firmly as he be
lieved in running. “As far as he was
concerned, there was no such thing as a
bad boy.” To prove it, Coach Ranson
turned out good runners and good
men —by the squad. He did it with
kind words and carefully calculated en
couragement. If he didn’t have anything
nice to say, he just didn’t say anything.
Coach Ranson has left an odd sort'Sf*
monument to the remembered by: high
school track teams he helped to get
started all over North Carolina. That
was what made him happy, seeing boys
learn how to run, and though Coach
Ranson had problems few people ever
knew about, he was a happy man. He
should have been, leaving behind him
countless boys who wanted to be like
him. But that wasn’t exactly the reason
he was happy.
litical debts are paid off with appoint
ments to the Highway Commission,
with highway projects and County
road allocations.
The Highway Department is a potent
political tool, and at the same time is
extremely sensitive to political pres
sure. It has been this way in North
Carolina for more than thirty years,
and there has never been a serious ef
fort to make a radical change, even
though it is a system that invites “con
flict of interests” and lends itself to the
worst kind of political favoritism.
Elsie Webb seems to have been some
what more indiscreet than others have
been in the past, and he happened to
have the personal misfortune of getting
caught. He might get the boot, and he
might richly deserve it. But as far as
the long-range interest of the State is
concerned, it will prove next to nothing.
The basic trouble will remain, waiting
to tempt the next political beneficiary.
On the other hand, if Mr. Jonas does
decide to take the Gubernatorial plunge,
he might very well discover that he
has been primed for a target that isn’t
there. Mr. Jonas has been touted as the
man who could take I. Beverly Lake in
the general election, in case Dr. Lake
won the Democratic nomination. As it
happens, Dr. Lake isn’t a candidate,
might paver be, and Rep. Jonas doesn’t
figure to stand better than an outside
chance against any other Democratic
nominee.
North Carolina Democrats will havs
a fight on their hands next year, for
sure. But from the way matters are
shaping up now, it will be only among
Democrats.
thusiasm on the part of millions of cit
izens eager to work through our party
for a return of good sense national gov
ernment. To my way of thinking there
is no other way we can hope to reestab
lish in the Nation’s Capital that per
spective, that proportion, that disci
pline needed to keep the Federal sys
tem in bounds, and to keep the Nation’s
fiscal situation in good order. . .
Translated, this is that classic call to
political arms: Turn those rascals out
and let our rascals back in. It’s enough
to warm the coldest reaches of Sherman
Adams’ heart.
Literature’s Humanizing Influence
An address delivered this month
before the University's Di-Phi
Senate. Dr. Friederich is Kenan
Professor of Comparative Litera
ture at the University and an
honorary president of the Inter
national Comparative Literature
Association. He is also an honor
ary Senator of the Di-Phi.
By WERNER P. FRIEDERICH
Drake, in the filth canto of his
Inferno, when speaking of the
famous ililcit lovers Paolo and
Francesca da Rimini, inserts the
somber, contemplative line of
“Nesstm maggior dolore . .
that there is no greater grief than,
in tufteS of misfortune, to remem
ber past happiness.
All of you might take these
words as motto for your present
life—for you all, regardless of
whether you are rich or poor,
fcriffot or average, are to die
promising life-building phase of
your earthly existence. Your suc
cess, good fortune, wealth, pow
er or indeed happiness are not
so much acquired 20 or M years
from now; the foundation for all
this is being laid right now. while
you are here to Chapel Hill. It
all depends on how well you use
the four years a kindly fate or
the sacrifices of your parents
have bestowed upon you at this
college whether you strength
en your character and widen your
intellectual horizon, or whether
you waste your time and, smart
sleeky, keep on looking for and
following the path of least rarist
ance. Forty years from now, when
your career is over and you find
yourselves to some groove of
mediocrity, misfortune, eternal
discontent and self-reproaches,
you, too, may remember past
happiness, past chances, past un
fulfilled promises.
Thus the time is the here and
now; no alibis and no gift as
sertations to the contrary can
fool you about this fact. It is a
beautiful time of golden opportu
nities—but also a dangerous time.
If you won't believe me and if
you need a real shocker, go to
the Bowery in New York and
watch ail the drunks in the gutter
in brbad daylight—not only tramps
rnd bums, but some, once upon
a time, students, officers, law
yers, salesmen of sorts who had
failed t« take advantage of their
chances and who, at some critical
Md deeply tragic moment of their
lives, had completely let go of
themselves, their jobs and fami
lies. In the half-darkness of their
present existence they, too, may
agonize over the words of Fran
cesca da Rimini.
If, as professor of literature,
I beg you everlastingly to keep
on reading books, good books, fic
tion, drama, history, biography,
it is not to proaelytize and make
students of literattire out of all
of you. You are welcome to be
come scientists, engineers, phy
sicians, lawyers, business ty
coons—we need all of them. I
do not share present fears that
tbe world is going to the dogs
because scientists instead of hu
manists begin to prevail among
us—and if you ever hear a hu
manist accuse a scientist of be
ing a iess well-rounded person,
turn the spear around by asking
the former just how much of the
sciences be had studied and re
tained. The chances are, mighty
little. But I would beg all of you,
at this critical moment of your
lives, as you prepare yourselves
for a career in business or scien
ce, never to forget your com
mon cultural heritage with the
humanists, your common humani
ty, the need to be decent, socially,
politically and philosophically
sane human beings among your
fellow-men.
The early acquired habit of read
ing good books alone can fully
humanize you and keep you from,
becoming mere adding-machines
or spiritually stunted laboratory
experimenters. And this is be
cause, alas, to the turmoil of our
mechanized civilization, great fic
tion or great biography atom still
dwell extensively on the sanctity
A Letter To The Editor
Dear Sir:
Saturday, October I*. MS3,
was a perfect day in mors ways
than one. I went over to the
stadium, at the half, to sae the
bands perform, then watched
the game for awhile.. The
weather was gorgeous, the sta
dium was packed to the gwi
wales,- and we won in a walk
over the favored Wolf pack of
UNO-State. '
I hope the die-hards will now
appreciate' Coach Hickey and
stop clamoring for his scalp, be
cause our team lost to Michigan
State. I think we had no busi
ness out there playing that old
oolossus tt a team. We should
stay in nut conference and fight
somebody our size.
mien I left the stadium. I went
aa usual, to an open house at
one of the fraternity houses. Two
old grads came in and one of
Where Individuality Still Lives
« the human heart, the «Mfer
AT ah human txMraice. For Mtty
•f our friends, Me sociologists, we
111 do net exist as intevidßils
liny longer. Gone are fhr days
of small esmmunittaft. I’wnjrart
cultural units, of individual pern
wnwi everytjouy Know y*
body dee, as you still tarn it
ir Hefner s Mai. or ■ I atm
encountered it on a small, com
pact islands like Tasmania,
Where the individual and Ms dan
Mill counted for something. In
stead, we now count people by
die millions and by the billions—
and the individual has disappear
ad, has become a mere cipher,
today, we are evaluated only as
multiple categories -so many
ftiale, so many female; so many
vhite, m many colored; so many
below 21, to many above M; so
many white-collar workers, so
many laborers percentagewise
this raid pereotagewise that. As
Students you receive a number;
ns soldiers you are a mere num
ber. We have our social security
number; now we even have check
ing account numbers, zip-code
hunabeiw-all of us just a vast,
grey, enormous, yet numoerea
mast Os people- The FBI has mil
lions of our fingerprints (as if
that werq really us!)—and, no
doubt, to hospitals and in death
we will have different numbers
agate.
Great literature alone opposes
Itself to that pernicious, person
ality-killing trend. In great books
alone do you find—not the su
premacy of the masses, but the
importance of the indivdual. Vol
umes of lyric poems continue to
be written about that innermost
part of our own selves which sta
tisticians never reach; our heart,
our soul, our mind, our ecstasy—
sonnets, odes, dithyrambs, about
what God or love or the beauties
of nature mean to us—to you and
me, personalty, not just to the
Class of 1966 as a whole, or the
inhabitants of the Western Hemis
phere as a whole. Hundreds of
volumes of fiction, from Cer
vantes to Fielding, Tolstoy and
Kafka have been written, and
continue being written, about the
hopes, dreams and frustrations of
individual human beings, all of
them and their emotions analyz
ed, motivated and respected for
their own sake lovingly, re
spectfully, devotedly, as though
the individual human bqing still
counted for something, as though
he still were what somfe of us
always thought he should be, the
Dearest thing to God on earth.
Or take again the vast field of
the drama, the outstanding tra
gedies of man's confrontation with
Fate or with moments of heroic
greatness; they cannot fail to im
bue us with a moment of pride
and reassurance about our own
otherwise insignificant selves,
v hether they deal with the death
of Antigone or the Death of a
Salesman.
This re-assurance we all need
—of our own dignity, individual
importance, potential divinity. If
you don’t believe me and are
satisfied being a soulless cog in
a soulless machine, read George
Orwell's “W 64,” where man in
deed has lost bis humaneness and
his divine spark.
There are other reasons why
you should road, at all times.
Good books alone help you to
keep your sanity and your sense
of proportion. You need them
most of all to the great crises in
your own personal lives—crises
Which none of you will ever be
spared. Ignorant people, alas,
who have no sense of proportion
and comparison, take themselves
far too seriously and are apt to
behave in a shamelessly unbrid
led fashion. With their dull wits
fliey imagine that nobody has
ever quite loved or hated as
they have, been double-crossed
dr deserted or maligned—and in
blind fury gray strike out against
(he alleged wrong-deer, and an
other one of tee numberless
crimes recorded by the statis
ticians has been committed. The
lettered man, however, agrees
with Montaigne that he reads in
order to learn to Bve, in order
them began to abuse Kennedy.
1 said I liked Kennedy. That
just sat him wild—“ Kennedy wes
a communist the worst man
ever to have been in the White
House, etc." I toU ton “YOu
don’t discuss politics at a party,
because people always get mad
and disagreeable. You go to a
party to enjoy yourself, not to
get in a fight." He kept up his
diatribe. 1 finally told him he
Was no gentleman or he would
know better than to talk politics
at a party. That get ton. He
and his friend sat down and
were very demure tor the re
mainder of the party.
1 hoped I was getog ta get
through one day without calling
aamebody on hie maftMrs. it
looks like somd pdOtfts have al
ways got to bd behaving in such
away that I have to correct
them, or bust!
Otetta Connor
- -x' . ..
-;
WHmam
JMjgP
DR. FRIEDERICH
to learn to know others and his
own self, indeed, to order to learn
to suffer and die with dignity.
No matter what may happen to
him through his readings he
knows that the same thing, and
worse, has happened to thousands
of others; that toe moment calls
for fortitude, and not despair;
that the crisis, the tragedy in his
life, calls for moral re-assertion
and, if possible, greatness, and
not for frothing mouths and
cheap spectacles. Moderation,
humility, and a true sense of rel
ativity these surely are not
among the least welcome con
comitants of the humanizing in
fluence of great literature upon
us.
I can give you only a few
hints concerning the hundreds of
good books you should choose
from now and in the future, when
ever your day is done and you
have a few hours for peace and
meditation, with the blasted
sports pages and funnies of the
rest of your family thrown down
into toe cellar and with the fre
quently equally unworthy radios
and television sets turned off.
First, read the literature of the
so-called Enemy. Do not con
demn an entire people for politi
cal reasons before taking the
trouble of acquainting yourselves
with some outstanding cultural
achievements of that people.
Your parents, in their splendid
isolation and self-righteousness
(to find forgiving words for
what they did), sinned by refer
ring to “Limies,” “Wops” and
“Frogs,” by ostracizing the mus
ic of Wagner as well as toe 'poe
try of Goethe, just because of
deep-seated political, rather than
more tolerant cultural attitudes.
Try not to emulate their self
defeating shortsightedness as you
face the very grave political un
certainties of the 1960’5; try to
appreciate not only the music of
Tchaikovski or the old novels by
Dostoevski, but perhaps even
modern prose epics by Mikhail
Sholokhov such as “The Don
Flows Home to the Sea” or
“Seeds of Tomorrow,” in order
to grasp what exactly drove the
Russians to the great Revolution
of 1917 or to the establishment
of agricultural communes. I do
not fear for a moment that these
novels will corrupt you; the des
perate human plights described
therein wifi appeal to you, the
cruelty, wholesale killing and
sheer stupidity of toe events will
repel you—and in toe end you
will thank God for living in Amer
ica. But at least you will have
made an honest effort to under
stand what makes the modern
Russian tick—and, mortal enemy
of their system though you will
be, you win never quite hate and
condemn as Mindly as the Mc-
Carthyite* did, and as toe pres
ent lunatic fringe does.
Second,, during the present
tragic age of national crisis, of
a veritably new American Revo
lution, of the deep significance of
which I am afraid most of you
are but dimly And indifferently
aware: road toe literature, the
testimonies, toe outcries of the
Black Man. Be proud, if you can,
that the voice of the Negro for
the first time in human history
appeared not on the shores of toe
Congo, but on the shores of the
Mississippi; raid that, since the
end of the 18th century, he has
added, timidly at first, sub
missively, unsure of himself, but
ever more boldly later, his voice
to the voices of Anglo-Saxons,
Spaniards, Irishmen, Scandina
vians, Frenchmen, Germans,
that have contributed to tbe
greatness not only of American
literature, but to toe greatness
of the political dream that is
America. Try to understand
what is moving Ms heart and his
hopes and read his lyrical poems,
like the one beginning
To be a Negro on a day like
this,
Alas, Lord God. what evil
have we done?
or another one, proudly asserting
himself as a human being among
Other human beings, a bit re
sembling Walt Whitman’s “Song
4t Myself.” and ending
I, too, am American!
in order to understand the history
of generations of suffering, op
pression, man’s inhumanity to
man. and yet also of hope and
faith—taito not only in an Old
Testament God who sent Moses
to “go and tell old Pharaoh to
let My people go,” but faith also
in the ultimate sense of justice
and of fair play among the vast
majority of toe American people.
Or read stark, naturalistic and
despairing novels like Richard
Wright’s “Native Son,” and mar
vel anew, if your soul is big
enough, at the deep sea ted loyalty
of the American Negro, and his
innate strength in refusing to be
ensnared by Communist propa
ganda. Yes, read Negro litera
ture by all means and learn there
by in God’s good time to solve
a problem which your parents
could not and would not solve—
and do not forget that the only
two saintly men which our poor
twentieth century has produced,
the late Mahatma Gandhi in In
dia and Albert Schweitzer in
darkest Africa, will bless you for
your honest attempt at under
standing, mitigating and help
ing. Or. if some of you, in their
daily lives making a mockery of
Him who died on the cross for
preaching decency and good will,
prefer the voice of evil to the
voice of goodness in order to be
converted: be deeply hurt and
angrily perplexed by an asser
tion made about three weeks ago
by the noted anti-American Brit
ish philosopher Bertrand Russell
who said that America, in the
last 350 years, had committed
more crimes of murder, flogging,
rape and exploitation against the
Negro than Hitler had with the
more than 6 million known vic
tims of National Socialism. It is
of no use to cry out in shame
and dismay that the British lord
is a liar, that surely this cannot
be so—for the word has been
spoken and, right or wrong, it
has hit its mark, it has hit all of
us, all Americans, the living and
the dead. And if it has been
dinned into the ears of the Germ
an people for the past twenty
years that they all. all of them,
are collectively guilty, that they
all must atone, repent and ex
piate until Doomsday—just where
do guilt and atonement begin and
end for all of us?
And third and last, yet anoth
er category of books that toould
accompany you through life,
from young manhood to old age:
read both history and fiction,
drama and essay about our own
America —about the tJnited
States in general and tbe dig
nity and the integrity of the
real flower of the OW South in
particular. Perhaps you will
share my profound admiration
for my two favorite Americans
Roger Williams, the founder
of 17th century Rhode Island,
for his political idealism and his
religious- tolerance, and Robert
E. Lee, who revealed an even
greater humaneness and pa
triotism in peace, in defeat, ra
ther than in the war itself. Add
to their shining examples ramne
of Emerson’s essays on the fin
est aspects of American faith
and optimism, or study Francis
Parkman's gripping description
of the gigantic struggle between
the French and the British-Am
erican claimants to this conti
nent, a struggle between the
Jesuit- and royalist-dominated
I —Looking Back— j
From the files o( the Weekly: IN 1943'
IN 19*3
Dormitory Telephones
“The University has had a tele
phone installed in each of the
dormitories (except in Old East,
where one will be installed after
Christmas). For each phone two
self-help students have been ap
pointed ‘phone monitors.’ It is
their duty to answer calls and
deliver messages during duty
hours and at other times when
they happen to be present. A
toll of five cents has been placed
on all outgoing calls, so as to
keep the phones free from unnec
essary use and to help defray
the cost of operation. The hours
when the monitors are required
to be on duty are as follows:
to a.m. to 1 p m., 2 to 1:39 p.m.,
and 7:so to 10 p.m.”
IN 1333 -
H Yon Want a
GOOD USED CAR
Now Is The Time to
Look Ours Over
1929 Chevrolet Coach 140.00
1930 Chevrolet Coupe 235.00
1930 Ford Coupe 295.00
1930 Ford Tudor 250.00
1930 Chevrolet 4-D Sedan . 200.00
1932 Ford V-3 Coupe 375.00
1932 Ford V-8 Fordor .... 350.00
2 Good Used Model “A”
Ford Trucks
Easy Terms
Strand Motor Company
system of absolutist Franc# and
the far freer and nobler demo
critic traditions of tee Anglo-
Americans to realise what this
country fought for, what dreams
of justice and dignity it had.
and what stffl remains unfulfill
ed among those dreams. Or, ia
the field of tee drama whet
better reformulation of Mnate
strength, wisdom md ultimate
victory in times of grave crises
could there he torn in Maxwell
Anderson's “Valley Forge ” ia
Sidney Kingsley’s “The Pa
triots,” or indeed la Robert
Sherwood’s “Abe Lincoln in Il
linois?” These were high enough
ideals to live up to when the
United States was an outsider in
world politics, squeezed in be
tween the Atlantic and the Al
leghanies, or the Atlantic and
toe' Rockies now that she has
become the leader and toe hope
of the entire Free World, you,
the young generation, must feel
almost crushed by the heavy
responsibility of lriting no ma
jor taint, weakness or innate
unworthiness ever soil toe im
age of America's strength and
basic decency.
And, in conclusion, to turn
from international and even na
tional politics to rather local
tasks and responsibilities of our
young intellectuals humanized
by the study of history and of
literature: after you have be
come aware again of the finest
aspects of southern thinking
from Jefferson apd Madison to
Lee and beyond, you will, I hope,
regain a new respect for the
dignity of the Confederate flag
the symbol of a lost cause,
but the symbol, too, under which
tens of thousands of men fought
and died. The Confederate flag
belongs in your hearts and
shrines, a memento of what men
had lived and died for, a sym
bol, perhaps, for a quiet and
mediative procession on the an
niversary of Appomattox. It
must not as alas, it has, in
recent months and years be
come defiled and prostituted by
screaming mobs in Alabama*.
Mississippi and elsewhere, out
to terrorize the population, td
insult the high office of the
Presidency of the United States,
or to impeach members of the
Supreme Court. That is not whaf
the Confederate flag is here for;
it is not the equivalent of a pit
rate’s skull and croesbones
apd Robert E. Lee would turn
«i his grave If he knew what
tob being perpetrated under his
flag. Hie flag of my ewn littlq
native country, Switzerland, thd
white cross in the red field, ity
the course of generations bet
came sublimated and ennobled
into something much bigger and
finer, namely the Red Cross in
the white field —for Switzer
land was toe first to establish
that great humanitarian and in
ternational organization to al
leviate suffering Ml over the
world. As such, toe inverted flag
of Switzerland, the Red Cross,
will live on and on, long after
the country of its origin has been
absorbed in the coming United
States of Europe. I hope and
pray that you will help to re
store your Confederate flag to
its former place of respect and
piety—and I invite you to strive
for a similar sublimation of its
meaning to the one that occur
red in the case of the Swiss flag.
“Charles M. Stancell, of the
Army Air Force, who went from
Lubbock, Texas, a few weeks ago
to a classification center in Cali
fornia, has been classified as a
pilot and on November 9th will
begin a 9-weeks preflight train
ing course. . .
“Henry Merritt, the Negro who
was janitor for the Kappa Sigma
Fraternity here for 40 years, died
last week at the age of 65. At
the funeral services in St. Paul’s
Methodist Church Sunday, E. J.
Woodhouse, a member of the
Fraternity, paid to Henry a
heartfelt tribute of affection and
respect. He recalled that Ms
son Noell, also a member of the
Fraternity, had once said, “No
better Kappa Sigma than Henry
ever lived,’ and that Henry was
the first person whom Kappa
Sigma alumni asked about and
wanted to see when toey revisit
ed Chapel Hill.”
IN 1953
“The Rev, Charles M. Jones,
pastor of (he Community Chtfrch
of Chapel Hill, was received as
an ordained minister in full stand
ing by the Eastern North Caro
lina Conference of tee Congrega
tional Christian denomination at
a meeting of about *O9 ministers
raid lav people at the Shallow
Well Church near Sanford on
Tuesday. . .