A

4*

4

*

A

',t

PAGE TWO

THE MICHIGAN DAILY

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1I, 1965

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER, 24, 1965

THE MICHIGAN DAILY


FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1965 THE MICHIGAN DAILY

rrr. d,,.«,. oY~i,-'r .rr.. 'rv. ..vr...'...:....,.,. ~.~ ....:..'... . ...... .rr .,r «... .4"

1918: ONE OF fEW
WOMEN EDITORS

Table of Contents
GAIL BLUMBERG
Editor"

STODDARD WHITE
Alumni Editor

Page
Hugh Allen, 106. ........ ................. ..... 7
Mildred Mighell Blake, '18 ......... ...........2
Thurlow E. Coon, '03......................... .. .. 7
Jim Dygert, '56........................ ....y ............9.
Paul Eden, '25 ............... ......................7oh '36 ....5
Thomas E. Groehn, '36..................... ................ 7
Arthur Hill, '42............................. 7
Norman Hill, '11.................. ...... . ...... ..7
Janet Hiatt Hooker, '42...............................10
Lois Kelso Hunt, '47 ....................... ............11
C. M. Jickling, '17 ......................................5..
Dwight P. Joyce, '21.............. ......... .. 5
Laurence Kirshbaum, '66..................................1
Norman Kraft, '34........................................6
William Lefevre, '18 ................................... .5
Elizabeth Larsen Lukas, '47.............................11
Ben Marino, '40 ......................................... 8
James Martin, '19............. ..................... 3
Harry Meyser, '19 .......................................3
I. A. Mikesell, '09.....................................3
Robert Mitchell, '39 .......................... .....5
Paul Scott Mowrer, '09..................................2
Thomas Muir, '31...... .........................5
Pat Bronson Norman, '51..... .....................11
Eleanor J. O'Brien, '31................................11
Robert G. Silbar, '29...................................3
Philip Slomovitz, '18........................... . 7
Richard L. Tobin, '32..........................4........4
Robert Weeks, '38........................ ............5
Gurney Williams, '314............. .............4
Eric Zale, '44................................... .....8

.
f
'.
.:

By MILDRED MIGHEIL BLAKE
'18, LSA
IT IS POSSIBLE that I am the only
woman who has served as managing
editor of The Daily, though perhaps I
haven't kept up with the progress of
Michigan women in journalism. But
there can't be many of,us.
My distinction came about in the fall
of 1918, only because every man with suf-
ficient experience to run the paper had
been drafted into " the Student Army
Training Corps and had to be on his cot
in the new Union building by 10 p.m.
I wasn't even a student; I had been
woman's editor my senior year, and after
graduation that summer I got a nice job
working on my home town paper, the
Aurora (Ill.) Beacon-News, for $20 a
week. But the situation on Maynard
Street was so desperate that the Board
lured me back with a splendid 25% in-
crease.
TfHENEXT four months were like no
others in The Daily's history, I am
sure. We had two or three experienced
men who were physically disqualified for
the service, a few girls some of whom
had written women's news the year be-
fore, and a small squad of lads under 18.
And then came the flu epidemic. Peo-
ple fell sick and died so fast that the hor-
rifying flu story was the local lead for
the day, for what seems now like weeks.
The Daily lost two or three reporters and
night editors, gone before their parents
could even get to Ann Arbor.
The close-to-the-surface battle be-
tween the Army and the University was,
of course, the real story of the year, but
nobody wrote it. Things were too dis-
organized and too sensitive to bear
analyzing.
Like 'scores of other newspapers, we
put out an extra on the "fake armi-
stice," Roy Howard's premature United
Press story on November 7. We sold
papers all that day, not only in Ann Ar-
or but in Ypsilanti too. The real armi-
stice of November 11 was anticlimactic
for us, for it broke in the small hours
after The Daily had gone to press,- and
I can't recall that we put on an extra.
It is against the frazzled nerves and
near-hysteria of that time that the great

poker scandal of January 1919 must now
be recounted. I had suggested before the
holidays that I leave and let one of the
demobilized seniors take over, but the
Board said no, I was doing fine, I must
stay. But that was before the time clock.
THE METHODICAL, solemn law pro-
fessor who headed the Board installed
the time clock after Christmas vacation.
Staff members were required not only to
punch in and punch out, but also to turn
in reports of work done. Promotions, it
was announced, would henceforth be
based on this record.
One night about two weeks later, I
came in about 11 from a concert and the
first poker game I had ever seen at the
Daily was just breaking up. A freshman
player added to his day's report "Won
$3.45 at poker."
A few' days later the Board had the
report and the explosion could not be
believed, even when it was seen by every-
one in Michigan and neighboring states.
IT IS PROBABLY impossible for this
generation to realize just how blue
the bluenoses of that period could be.
The prohibition amendment had been
adopted and would go into effect that
summer. It was expected to bring in a
millennium of righteousness. Every-
where the straitest-laced and most cen-
sorious were riding high.
Still, in merry old Detroit, nobody could
believe that the screech from the Board
could proceed from such alimited cause.
The Ann Arbor News first broke the story
in high glee, but the Detroit Free Press
decided at once that there must be some
mistake, there couldn't be just three stu-'
dents involved. So their headline said,
"300 students caught in gambling probe."
And the word-of-mouth story, since
there was a girl in the game, was that of
course it must have been strip poker.
Also, since there was a "girl editor" who
was threatened with discipline by the
Board, it didn't take long for her to be
identified in much of the gossip with the
girl in the garme.
THE BOARD had me in for questioning.
+Why hadn't I reported the incident at-
once so the offenders could be suspend-
ed? Why hadn't I, at least, "taken a
broomstick to them"? Most of the Board
wanted me fired summarily. One inquir-
ed whether my diploma might not be
withdrawn. The upshot, as I recall, was
that the students were put on probation,
the Detroit News man was forbidden to
enter the premises, and, yielding to the
head of the English department who lik-
ed my editorials, I was merely "demoted"
from managing editor to editorial writer.
But I chose instead to rejoin my class-
mates out in, the wide, wide world.
For Poets
On Retiring From Active
Newspaper Work
A hated tyrant falls; a fierce plot tears
The webs of power; war rumors cross
the sea;
A crisis-yet my fingers tap no key.
After a life well crammed with public
cares,
How strange to stand 'apart from
world affairs
And let, like other men, what is to be
Occur without one warning word
from me!
-No more to deal in daily threats and
scares,
Cluck round events like anxious,
brooding hen;
No more snatch headlines, seize the
jigging tape.
Dash comment out, explain or analyze!
I sit and must at last, like other men,
Read books, walk forth and watch the
clouds take shape.
The great may do or die. I poetize.
PAUL SCOTT MOWRER

s LSA
From the book, "On Going to Live In
New Hampshire," 1953

Poor Health,
Ruined Love
By PAT BRONSON NORMAN
'51 LSA
THE DAILY did a lot for me - like
nearly dampening a romance and
sending= me off to Health Service in a
state of utter collapse.
It was my job as Night Editor which
could have wrecked my romance. My turn
to edit and proofread the page on Friday
or Saturday night seemed to roll around
just as the most important dance of the
year arrived.
So my date and I would rush off at
the height of the festivities in our formal
attire, .and hurry to The Daily to get
those inky proofs, which didn't mix too
well with a white forpal.
Amazing that this early. craze of mine
didn't end the relate nship rigt there
But I married the guy, and today he is
still putting up with my newspaper
mania.
Then there is the matter of my health.
It was my .custom to spend my lunch
hour at The Daily. I was an Ann Arbor
girl, and that mile or so walk or bike ride
home and back wasn't as exciting as
pounding out a story.
I would stop at the bakery, pick up
some sweet rolls, then proceed to The
Daily and buy a Coke from the machine.
It is evident that I wasn't studying to
be a dietician.
Well, it was this awful luncheon diet,
compounded by frequent by-passing of
breakfast-I always tried to get in a few
more winks of sleep, which required the
practice of a track star to make it to my
eight o'clock classes-that ended up in a
case of mononucleosis. When I recovered
I amended my eating habits, and I sus-
pect that Coke machine never forgave
Me for cutting off its diet of my hard
earned coins.
Dailyites Alli,
And All Over
By ELEANOR J. O'BRIEN
'36 LSA-
VERY BIT OF training on The Daily
Eis grist for the mill, a survey of ad-
vance registrations for this weekend's re-
union shows.
Seven women even bothered to give
their occupation as "mothers of boys."
Many gave their occupations as "home-
maker," but explained they were free-
lancing in advertising and publicity and
stringing for newspapers and magazines.
Among Daily alumni who reported
early, 23 men still are on newspapers and
magazines after their Daily service since
the 1920s. One man was from the 20s,
nine from the $0s, two from the 40s, six
from the 50s and three from the current
decade. In the same fields, the women
numbered two each from the 40s and
60s and one from the 50s.
Since 1910, the returning alumni in-
clude 28 male and five female lawyers
and 11 who call themselves public of-
ficials or governmental employees.
OF THE WOMEN in recent decades on
The Daily, seven are teachers, three
are "volunteers," one is a school board
member, eight are students, four are in
social work and related fields, two are
librarians and two simply identify them-
selves as "in business."
Thirty former. Daily men simply call
themselves "in management." Two are
secondary school teachers and 19 others
are teaching at the'college level.
'Ten men. identify themselves as stu-
dents. Two are dentists, three social
workers, seven in medicine or public.
health, three in banking, three in insur-
ance, 12 in "sales," two in accounting and
one is an archivist. Three are/or were in

the Army, with ranks as high as brigadier
general.
They have become faculty members at
not only Michigan (in law, botany, Eng-
lish and business administration), but at
Arizona, -Rutgers, Adrian, Wisconsin,
Wayne State, Tulane and Ohio State.
And, of all -the former Daily men who
joined college faculties, only one so far-
Brewster Campbell, former city editor.
of the Detroit Free Press-has registered
as a journalism instructor.

The nickel Coke is now a Daily legend. It has maintained generations of editors and understa'
tasks. The old machine still chugs on, with occasional heavy repairs, and gives back four nicke
That's justice.

19 47

Perseverance ir

Pursuit of.Worldly Wi

: :::
.,:; .
:": 5 .:,":" :: :.:.
rh..... :::tiff: -..:'s: :r: :":
".r". ..1

1911: Remember Louise?

By HARRY MEYSER
'II LSA
S LOUISE still around? Probably not,
but I wonder if her spirit is still
around in the memories of the few old-
timers who had to do with The Daily
back in 1909-11. At any rate, here's one
who. remembers Louise, so I'll tell you
about her.
In those days The Daily offices con-

sisted of two rooms above a commercial
printing shop located, as I remember, on
Maynard street. It consisted of a rather
large room for the managing editor,'
night editors and reporters,. while a
smaller one was occupied by the business
manager and his advertising staff.
Each night the editorial room would be
filled with editors and"reporters and dur-
ing the early part of the evening all
would be busy 'writing their stories in

The Road to.Fortune

By HARRY MEYSER
'11 LSA
DURING OUR fiftieth class reunion,
four years ago, a number of us ware
sitting around reminiscing. Some fellow
whom I was sure I had never seen before
(we had all grown slightly older in 50-
years) told a story about a Daily re-
porter. As he talked I soon realized he
was telling my story. Who was that
stranger and how did he know me? He
remembered only my first name as he
called his hero Harry.
Well, here is the story he told. A
Daily reporter had been assigned to cover
a meeting of prospective teachers over in
-the education department. During the
meeting the reporter was sitting in the
class room, as were all those attending
the talk. When the monitors distributed
forms for the prospective teachers to fill
out, they just naturally put one on the
desk in front of the reporter.
Without too much forethought, the re-
porter who had had considerable news-
paper experience both in his home town
and on The Daily, but no history of

education or pedagogy, filled out the
form.
A COUPLE OF WEEKS later, the re-
porter was called over to be inter-
viewed by the superintendent and presi-
dent of the board of a town a hundred
miles or so north of Ann Arbor. They
had come to interview prospects for the
job of principal of their high school.
The reporter, who wanted to make
some money his first year out of school,
went up to the town a weekend later to
meet the other members of the board.
He returned to Ann Arbor with the job
of high school principal at a salary of
$900 per year!
He kept the job a year, was a success.
was offered $1000 to return, but as he
wanted $100 more a year, retired from
teaching and went to the Pacific' coast
and back into newspaper work.
The teller of the story at the class re-
union, I discovered, was Starr Lasher
who became a professor of Journalism
and was naturally amused by this inci-
dent. And I, of course, was the reporter.

the typically noisy news room. But by
eleven thirty or twelve the crowd ]had
generally thinned out and, after one a.m.,
as a rule, only the night editor was left.
He had to proofread the galley sheets as
they came up from, the linotype setter in
the commercial shop below.
W ELL, THAT WAS often a rather lone-
ly vigal and to while away the hours
and keep awake, it was the custom of
some of us to talk with Louise. Louise
was the night operator of the manual
switchboard at the Ann Arbor telephone
office.
Louise knew all of our voices and
recognized us from where or when we
phoned. "All right, Harry, I'll get your
party for you." Louise had a pleasing
but somewhat plaintive voice with a kind
of 'come hither' appeal and, at times,
we would hold long conversations with
hardly any interruptions.
At best, telephone relationships have
their shortcomings, and it was only nat-
ural that I tried to meet Louise and did
my best to cajole her into a date. But
in her almost hautingly pleading voice
she said she did not want to meet face to
face as she was sure I'd be disappointed
and thus eid our talks. Of course this
only caused me to coax more. Finally,
after great persuasion, she reluctantly
agreed to meet me one night at a bridge
in downtown Ann Arbor. We met and I
should have listened to Louise.
Several others of the night editors
and reporters used to be equally friendly
with her. I wonder if any of them ever
met her? But around the old Daily of
over fifty years ago she was almost an
institution. Is she or- her legend still
around or are any of her other telephone
friends still around?

by LOIS KELSO HUNT
'47 LSA
S TANDING IN the lunch-line at Betsy
Barbour one day in the fall of 1943, I
heard a girl behind me saying that she
had asked ten people on the steps of An-
gell Hall how to spell Chiang Kai-shek
without finding one who knew. I was
impressed by her perseverance in the
pursuit of knowledge, and even more im-
pressed when it developed that she had
really known how to spell it all the time;
she was just checking up on the student
body.
It all showed up in The Daily next day
as evidence of shocking political apathy
in war-time students, and opened up a
new vista to me. It had never before oc-
curred to me that there were people my
own age who might expect me to. know
anything about World Affairs, which was
just the way I thought of them.
Next year I started to work on The
Daily myself and discovered that there
were a whole group of people over there
who expected such things of their fellow
students, and of everyone else too.
They were forever rushing 9.round with
petitions about fair labor practices, join-
ing a picket line at some factory, writing
editorials which seemed to have come
straight out of a political science text,
reading the New Republic of the Nation,
organizing test cases to prove that the
Michigan laws against racial discrimina-
tion in barbershops and restaurants were
flouted.
DON'T MEAN to say that I ever rose
to those heights myself. On Women's
Staff we were more occupied with trying
to get everyone's name spelled right in
the story about the Modern Dance Club's
new officers, or fit Elected President into
that nasty headline that counted 7/-9.
No, I never actually joined in any of
the editorial staff's campaigns. In fact,
I am sorry to say I thought them rather
silly sometimes, especially when they
picketed a Walt Disney film because Un-
cle Remus was shown acting like Uncle
Remus instead of Paul Robeson.
They baffled me by acting -very hard-
boiled and professional, particularly the
returning veterans who began to appear
among us, while their motives seemed to
be of an incredible idealism.
-An uproar of bells and clacks from the
wire machines announced the death of
President Roosevelt one day in the spring
of 1945. To me, who had been brought up
to believe that F.D.R. was the Antichrist,
more or less, the concern shown by other
workers was surprising. Dick Krause, I
think it was, did a sort of mah-on-the-
street feature that night, interviewing
students out on dates at the League and
elsewhere, and was grieved to find that

By ELIZABETH LARSEN LUKAS
'47 LSA
I RECENTLY made a pilgrimage to
seldom-opened cupboard which con-
tains two scrapbooks of stories I wrote
for The Daily from 1944-1947. It had
been years since I looked at the yel-
lowed clippings, still neatly trimmed
and pasted on the pages as some sort
of permanent tribute to a meaningful
period in my life. -
But only now can I sty that. It didn't
seem -particularly meaningful at the
time. It was exciting, interesting, ex-
hausting, tedious, depressing, satisfy-
ing, depending on the day and the
assignment. And, depending on the en-
ergy and temperament I brought to it.
Quite simply, it was like life, as no
other aspect of university experience can
be.
At least-it was for me, for two reasons.
It produced an attitude of involve-
ment-involvement with all the affairs
of the campus and of the world. The
uncertain fledgling reporter was prodded'
to perform from the moment he arrived
on the desk until the moment he left,
weary and drained from writing and re-
writing, counting heads and re-count-
ing. He learned to be competent as a
writer and interpreter of news.

THI
ti
were
becar
cub,
to u
writi
defea
India
of ty
trans
unfox
struc
An
skill,
a de(
also
ing f
Thi
staye
Ma
my
my f
a rel
these
and
Voter
need
Wher
Ar
life N
Daily
ticula

everyone was talking about anything
other than the President's death.
ALL THESE YEARS after, however, I
can see that I owe editorial staff a
debt. They seem, by and large, to have
been right about practically everything
they fussed about so. The principles they
upheld are being passed into laws all
around us, and unlike many of my ac-
quaintances, I can contemplate the laws
with equanimity.
How can I believe that civil rights and
socialized medicine are part of a vast evil
conspiracy when I recall being bored stiff
by fluent eighteen-year-olds on those
subjects in 1944?
Still more surprising, these campus
radicals, as I believed them to be, must
have been no more than "pseudo-liberals"
in today's jargon. Recent pronounce-
.nents of student leaders speak slight-
ingly of the aims and methods which im-
pressed me as so militant, usually calling
them timid.
I am sure that the members of edi-
torial staff in the '40's have all done
much more important things than to,
enable one housewife to face contempor-
ary legislation without terror. Certainly
they aimed to do more. Very likely some

of th
public
ing to
sible.
BU'
is
and I
Las
scend
in Vi
this o
struct
disorc
dirty
their
letters
admit
firstx
boys
tranc
The
our c
I mys
posed
'40's,
very
and ]
they
right
about.

1947: In the Old C