.55" .w" ,".t r" 'vr v. r.SMV r:" .5. rr :ry{:::wr". ".;rty,. + ..r,.v y ' .. +rrr....wr r..: ; :. ! ' :fir .n.5.... ."!".{{ N r:W {... Fn"r, ."" vA "v r r " . . u . '4 Yf. {. w. .Yi.' :." n: . xe ons Are Free. 420 MAYNARD ST. ANN ARBORMICH. roil Prevail 4A NEws PHONE: 764-0552 Li Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily express the inidividual opinions of staff writers or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints. DAY, MAY 6, 1966 NIGHT EDITOR: MEREDITH EIKER Summer and Seurat: Ann Arbor's Pastel Days ANN ARBOR in the winter has all the charm and warmth of an abandoned service station. Sleet and rainy snow beat down in diagonal sheets against the dull walls of University buildings and against the dirty sides of small wooden houses. Unsmiling little people rush from door to door trying to stay a few steps ahead of frost-bite. The sun rises at noon and disappears shortly after lunch. THE GREY DESLOATION of winter slinks away shame-faced and defeat- ed, however, when summer pours into the city with new winds and fresh warmth. The schedule and deadlines of winter life lift like cold steel grates from the young- lawns and lukewarm pavement of the city, and people begin to walk slowly from place to aimless place, as if walk- ing were a privilege awarded only to the few true sons of nature. Ann Arbor becomes a village for some people. For others, Ann Arbor is trans- formed by summer and by summer people into a strangely fluctuating colony of ar- tists and engineers, a port of exile, a reminiscence, or a hope. SIT DOWN in a restaurant with big windows, where they leave the front door open, and watch. Dusty cars roll by by issuing an occasional honk like sheep moving up to summer pasture. Four angry Arabs appear in front of the win- dows: they stop and point sharp fingers at each other, each one furious about a separate problem. A silly fluffy-headed girl dressed to resemble a contoured bar- ber pole squeezes uneasily through the loud Arabian dispute. The Arabs immedi- ately stop disputing and walk away after the girl. Walk down South University for a while. High school kids rush in and out of the Little Shop talking about mufflers and Editorial Staff CLARENCE FANTO.....................Co-Editor CHARLOTTE WOLTER................. Co-Editor BUD WILKINSON...................Sports Editor BETSY COHN ..................*Supplement Manager NIGHT EDITORS: Meredith Eiker, Michael Heffer, Shirley Rosick, Susan Schnepp, Martha Wolfgang. Business Staff SUSAN PERLSTADT . . . .......... Business Manager LEONARD PRATT.............. Circulation Manager JEANNE ROSINSKI ........ .... Advertising Manager RANDY RISSMAN............Supplement Manager The Daily is a member of the Associated Press and Collegiate Press Service. The Associated Press is erilusively entitled to the use of all news dispatches credited to it or otherwise credited to the newspaper. All rights of re-publication of all other matters here are also reserved. Subscription rate: $4.50 semester ny carrier (85 by (nal); $8 yearly by carrier ($9 by mail) second class pystage paid at Ann Arbor. yigb. Published daily Tuesday through Saturday morning. hydraulic steering wheels. Two little boys with voluminous haircuts and grasshop- per legs follow an enormous blonde girl across the street to look at the Campus Theatre marquee. A few steps away, Ken Bondjuk stands in front of his clothing store enjoying the light wind, nodding to friends, and de- touring anyone into his store who strolls by a little too slowly for escape. CROSS THE CROWDED corner by the bank: that angry little man in the purple Buick, whose thoughts are running to negligent homicide as he attempts to cross the intersection with you in the way, does not exist. He'll get over it. Two engineers are standing on the grass by the engine arch bouncing a football off each other's shoulders. An earnest young man is sitting on the grass with an earn- est young lady talking in earnest about trees. Two goliaths in sweatshirts are hitch-hiking by the curb. Smooth rolling green lawn comes down from the dark walls of Martha Cook Dor- mitory. Girls in light pastel blouses lounge on the cool green carpet beneath pink magnolia blossoms. Pause on the sidewalk to gaze out over the wistful calm and quiet grace of the lawn. Seurat. An island. All on the other side of a fence. SUMMER NIGHT in Ann Arbor brings coolness and vague excitement to the couples who walk hand-in-hand down State Street smiling with the pleasant tension of resort people. One half expects to turn a corner and find the waters of Biarritz lapping at white sand before a noisy casino. The lapping turns out to be the Huron River rolling through the Arboretum, and the sounds of casino revelry are emanating from five hairy people playing guitars and harmonicas in a tree: why not? A thousand Ann Arbors exist behind the screen doors and open windows of the city in summer. Their populations mingle on the street and in restaurants for a while. Then they disappear into their sep- arate lairs. But each population belongs to the sun- light and tree shade of summer. When the sun begins to hedge and grow faint- er, and leaves begin to swivel silently to earth, the windows will close and the people sitting on lawns speaking earnest- ly will fade and disappear. ANN ARBOR will lock up and get to work. The greyness and cold will grow back over the city like rust. And a few people will sit chin in hand at wooden desks staring at books and paper and seeing girls on the lawn by Martha Cook and hairy people in trees. In summer, Ann Arbor is a feeling. In winter it will be a regret. -JAMES SCHUTZE J OSEPH E. MADDY, the presi- dent of the National Music Camp at Interlochen, who died last month at the age of 74, was an incredible man and so was the camp that he founded. Maddy was born in Wellington, Kansas, and conducted a concert at the White House. He never followed a course of study for a music teacher's certificate, but he was a major force in American music education. His own abilities as a conductor, were, at best, limited, particularly as he grew older, yet he almost single-handedly created an en- vironment where thousands of young people (America's Gifted Youth" the National Music Camp called them) from grade school to college have perfected their talent for the arts. THE NATIONAL MUSIC Camp -which Maddy founded at a run down old resort near Interlochen ("between the lakes") in the northern part of Michigan's lower peninsula-seemed destined for difficulty from its inception. As he usually did, Maddy embarked on the project with a multitude of cheers from the young musicians to whom he had mentioned the idea, and a bare minimum of cash to make the idea work. Aided by men like Thaddeus Giddings, Maddy slowly began building and hiring faculty for his new summer music camp, one of the first in the country. The idea that red-blooded American youth would waste their summers freez- ing in Michigan's north woods staring at orchestra music was a little far-fetched to some. Maddy, however, thought differently. For a number of years he had been witnessing and helping foster a remarkable growth in the qual- ity and quantity of bands and orchestras of young people. He himself had conducted many groups in contests and concerts throughout the Midwest. One such group had cheered his spur-of- the-moment bravado when he sug- gested, "We ought to find a place to do this all summer." AND SO IT BEGAN, mostly a gleam in Maddy's somewhat vi- sionary eyes, but one for which several generations of young mu- sicians would be grateful.. - Embarking on a long, never- ending quest for donor money, Maddy once rented a plane, crash- ed it accidentally, and wound up persuading his accidental host to make a sizeable donation. The National Music Camp successfully withstood the onslaught of musi- cians' union president, James C. Petrillo, who wanted to end Inter- lochen broadcasts because NMC students were not union members. The National Music Camp also weathered all sorts of financial crises (and once avoided being turned into an air base), some of which were due to Maddy's belief in giving scholarships to needy students and some of which were due to what one aide jokingly called Maddy's talent for "spend- ing tomorrow's money yesterday." BUT BY THE LATE nineteen forties Interlochen was a manifest success. NMC presently includes camp facilities for boys and girls from grade school to high school, and boasts a branch of the Uni- versity Music School as well (Maddy for many years held a joint appointment as NMC presi- dent and professor of music here, and in 1964 received an honorary degree from the University). Offering instruction in every- thing from voice and instrumental music to modern dance and ballet to painting and sculpture, Inter- lochen announced in 1962 the opening of the Interlochen Arts Academy, an arts-oriented prep school operating during the regu- lar school year. In 1962 an NMC orchestra play- ed with its ballet troupe in a con- cert on the White House lawn at the invitation of Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy; another orchestra play- ed at the World's Fair; and other NMC and IAA groups have played at Fair Lane at the University's Dearborn campus, in Philadelphia, in Lincoln Center and several times at Hill Auditorium. Luci Baines Johnson narrated "Peter and the Wolf" with the NMC or- chestra in 1964 with Van Cliburn conducting; Cliburn himself has played an annual benefit at Inter- lochen for some time. * * * INTERLOCHEN-both the Na- tional Music Camp and the Inter- lochen Arts Academy-is full of contradictions. Maddy's stubborn egalitarian bent, which puts seat- ing assignments in the orchestras and bands on the basis of weekly tryouts and competitions, and re- quires each camper to wear only a camp uniform (blue corduroy pants for the boys, blue knickers for the girls, and light blue shirts and red sweaters) sometimes had trying or amusing results-the tension over "challenges" for the coveted first-chair spots in or- chestra, the dismay when you found you had a pair of corduroy "balloons," the pleasure when you discovered your girl's knickers were a little tight. THE CORDUROYS and chal- lenges aren't the only surprises, though. The high school NMC camper gets up--no matter how sensitive his artistic temperment -at 6:30 for a round of calisthen- ics and then swings into a vigorous rehearsal - work - study - practice - recreation schedule that ends with an evening concert and lights out at 10:00. The social scene was a little unorthodox, with the girl's camp section protected by barbed-wire fences, droves of flashlight-bear- ing chaperones after concerts and a bugler who sounds quarters just when you begin getting comfort- able with your girl. There were also a number of musical surprises. Plagued by the fears of money and accommoda- tions, Maddy became much more an administrator (and a good one) and a promoter (a tireless one) than a musician-one New York Times reviewer complained of his "journeyman conducting"- but Maddy, nonetheless, insisted on conducting the NMC orches- tras for several weeks each sum- mer, to the dismay of many of the young musicians, who would have preferred to have another con- ductor and other music (Maddy's tastes centered on Tchaikovsky and Sibelius). BUT DESPITE the disappoint- ments and restrictions during band and orchestra-and at the girl's gate!-Interlochen's occasionally amusing, often exasperating musi- cal and social quirks probably aren't that important anyway. For, despite those, quirks, and contradictions, this writer and his friends and thousands like them had the thrilling experience of playing great music for two months each summer-including for him one bright August morning on the south lawn of the White House. And, despite his deficiences as a musician and an educator, Dr. Maddy (he never got a Ph.D., but he earned nearly half a dozen honorary degrees) created a vital and valuable force in the musical world which will live for a long, long time. Far from revealing an essential philistinism, his aggres- sive and resourceful promotion was a means to an end, the expression of a vision 'to which Dr. Maddy held tenaciously, despite heart- breaks and defeats, and finally saw fulfilled. ARISTOTLE OBSERVED, "Mu- sic and harmony find their way into th seecret places of the soul." So, too, for thousands of musicians and their parents for over three generations, it can be said of Interlochen. That is Dr. Maddy's supreme and lasting memorial. 4' The Two-Fold Problem in Vet Nam By DAVID KNOKE First of Two Parts SEN. J. W. FULBRIGHT in the last few weeks has continued to probe hard at United States poli- cies in Viet Nam, saying that the diversion of energies from the Great Society has "generated the beginnings of war fever" at home and that "gradually but unmis- takably we are succumbing to the arrogance of power" which has toppled great nations in the past. The military war did escalate last week with the debarkment of additional troops, raising Ameri- can land commitment to a quar- ter million, and the first air con- frontations in eight months be- tween U. S. planes and commun- ist-flown MIGs. THE "WAR FEVER" which Fulbright has noted has not grown as rapidly as the military build up so far. Politicians with an eye on the November elections cannot ignore possible voter repurcussions from domestic cutbacks in Great Society programs and tax hikes to finance a war towards which most people remain apathetic. And in the wake of Buddhist-led protests in South Viet Nam which forced a promise from the ruling junta for elections for a return of civilian government, Washington must be going through a period of intensified soul searching. The search for a stable government in Saigon is just one facet of the war behind the war. U.S. INVOLVEMENT in this two-front war-the military battle against the National Liberation Front guerillas and infiltrating troops from the North, and the sociolpolitical-economic struggle for reforms launched at the Hono- lulu conference - hinges upon American claims of express invita- tion from the legitimate govern- ment of South Viet Nam. The Washington promise to abide by the requests of a govern- ment democratically elected next September will pose a stickler if the results were to run counter to the larger intentions of United States policy: containment of Communist Chinese expansion, even at the risk of war with China. MOST OFFICIALS now seem to think that a military "victory" is a matter of eroding the already- stalemated enemy forces. They are further coming to realize that such a conquest would be valueless unless a stable, viable socio- economic and political structure can be offered as an alternative to the Vietnamese peasants after twenty years of hardship, prompt- ed largely by foreign intervention in their countryside. Japanese invasion, civil war be- tween nationalists and the French, successive Western support of authoritarian regimes in the South and presently, military support of the generals' junta have given most Vietnamese peasants little incentive for enthusiastic support of the Saigon governments. For a war-weary and tax-oppressed people, the promises of the Viet Cong-who are, after all, Viet- namese-may be more appealing than American bombs. The Agency for International Development (AID) in the State Department has budgeted $550 million in fiscal 1967 for food and other counter- insurgency measures, but this may be too little and too late to offset the late start. The effect of the reform at- tempts-rooting out the guerillas, land redistribution policies, im- provement of schools, medical sup- plies and agricultural methods- will not begin to be felt by the fall elections, perhaps not for years. The 4000 cadres being train- ed now will attempt to settle in some 400 of the country's 2500 villages. President Johnson asked Congress for $55 million to in- crease the cadres to 40,000 by the end of the year, following plans discussed at the Honolulu con- ference. IN THE FACE of these ambi- tious plans, Sen. Vance Hartke (D- Ind) on April 22 revealed that he had acquired evidence to show that the economic commitment was no more than "eyewash." "(David) Bell (head of AID)," said Hartke, "speaks of a possible increase of perhaps $15 million in United States economic assistance over earlier plans. Now that's pea- nuts. We've already given $3 billion in direct' aid to Viet Nam. And from 1953 to 1957 we have given $823 million in economic aid. So this $15 is really nothing." Hartke further challenged Am- bassador Henry Cabot Lodge to account for the fact that "the administration didn't know the possibility of a political explosion -that the Buddhists might threa- ten to overthrow the government. "Whatever the explanation is, Mr. Lodge now owes an explana- tion to the American people." Harkte said he would press for Lodge to testify before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. "The administration is faced now with the problem of reassessing its position in Viet Nam, in addressing itself to these internal pressures." DEAN RUSK has indicated that the U.S. is committed to accepting whatever government is elected by noncoercive means next fall. In all likelihood, such a govern- ment would be dominated by the Buddhists, who have a political organization at the grass-roots level comparable to the NLF. Two important factions may op- pose the Buddhists-the strong, anti-Communist Catholic minority and the military, many of whom are Buddhists. Any question of the legitimacy of the election results would complicate American desires to see the Vietnamese people re- gain a greater share in their self determination. Columnist Joseph Kraft, cabling from Saigon in advance of a mili- tary coup he believes might be staged to head off a civilian take- over, say: "The Vietnamese military have been tasting power ever since the fall of President Diem in 1963 and they have found the taste very much to, their liking. For one thing, being on top gives them material advantages For another, by heading off a civilian regime they head off the possibility of peace arrange- ments; and the soldiers are against peace arrangements, in part because of conviction, and in part because their own status as important people would be ended with the end of the war." IN THE NEXT six months the United States will find itself in the delicate position of balancing socio-economic advances against the escalation of the military ef- fort. A military coup or an un- sympathetic civilian government that requested withdrawal of U.S. troops would strain America's al- ready weak rationale for inter- vention and pose the problem of whether the U.S. should "go it alone." A partial answer may be seen developing in America's changing attitude towards Communist China. Next Time: The U.S. in Asia Rut You Can't Draft Me-I'm a Student! r R #1;JFy \lt By BILL GROUT Collegiate Press Service MILDRED M. BUNDLE, Clerk Local Board No. 66 Security Building Safe Harbor, Iowa Dear Miss Bundle: There has been a lot of talk here lately about drafting college students, and I wondered if you would do me a favor of telling me how I stand with you. I mean, what's my status now. I just want to be sure, is all. Yours truly, Herbert L. Booking River City College Dear Miss Bundle: What's this form you sent me for? All I wanted was for you to tell me where I stand in regards to the call-up. I'll just consider this a mistake, then, all right? Expecting to hear from you. I am. Yours truly, Herbert L. Booking DEAR MISS BUNDLE: Miss Bundle, please! Why did you send me this "Report" thing? I'm in school, Miss Bundle, in college-River City College. It's an accredited college and everything, and I'm taking a full load of six- teen hours-all of them for credit. I've paid my tuition and my room and board, and I don't owe any- body any money and my grades are good ("B" average), and my father .is avtern. PPase tell me Miss Bundle, I was born in Safe Harbor. I grew up there, went to school there. My parents paid taxes there. Is it because we moved away after my Sophomore year at Safe Harbor High? Is that why you don't like me? Miss Bundle, I love Safe Harbor. In fact, I cried when my parents told me .we were going to move. Will you please check your records again? Will you at least answer me? Thanking you, I am As ever, Herbert L. Booking DEAR MISS BUNDLE: O.K. If that's the way you want to play, I can play that way too. If you won't answer me, then I won't write to you any more, either. Hoping you are miserable. Herbert L. Booking Dear Miss Bundle: I've just written to the President -yes, the President of the United States! I told him my problem, and I am confident that He will help me. Prepare to lose your job Miss Bundle. Here's seeing you a civilian again. Yours, Herbert L. Booking me. My time is getting short. I've only two days left. On my knees, I am, Oh so truly yours, Herbie Booking DEAR MILDRED: I've joined the Navy. Ha, ha. Out of your clutches at last. I am, Not truly yours, Berbie Booking Miss Mildren M. Bundle, Clerk! What do you mean by telling me you made a mistake! You'd better run, Mildred, because when I get off this battleship Safe Harbor won't be safe any more. You can bet on that, Milly baby. Arranging for transportation to Iowa, I am, Soon to be truly yours, Seaman Herbert L. Booking USS Rough Water LETTERS TO THE EDITOR: Teaching Fellows: The Issues To the Editor: MR. HARRISON'S satisfaction with his wages is laudatory, but a sad comment on his own abilities. At the present market value of college instruction, we perform services valued at over $4000 a year. Mr. Harrison either receives other renumeration or only performs $2475 worth of serv- ices, although the University ex- pects more. MR. HARRISON places an un- due emphasis on the salary issue. This is only one of a variety of grievances. Under present office allocation, most teaching fellows find it impossible to properly counsel students. We personally have been forced, at times, to meet students on the Diag or in Rack- ham study halls in order to gain the privacy in counseling our stu- dents have the right to expect. staff or students in our role as teachers. Mr. Harrison feels com- fortable in limbo; we do not. In the past the University has taken the position that, when there is work to be performed, teaching fellows are staff members, and when benefits are available, teach- ing fellows are students. Mr. Har- rison is satisfied; we are not. THE INEQUITIES in the teach- ing fellow system have been pub- licly acknowledged, both at the University and throughout the academic community. Vice Presi- dent Smith has referred to our conditions as the one real weak spot at the University, and Russell Kirk, in last Sunday's New York Times Magazine, commented on the teaching fellows' poor working conditions. The issues here are more than just monetary ones and reflect over a decade of University ne-' wrote, on the editorial page of the Michigan Daily, May 5, 1966. I am ashamed that there are people in this free country who dare not use their own names to present their own ideas. By apply- ing this kind of tactic, the author not only insults himself, but also degrades those holding similar views. Similar forgery happened in an- other local newspaper several months ago on the same subject. I wonder whether this is the stan- dard tactic for people who urge the independence of Taiwan. I wish the editors would be more cautious in publishing letters. -Sing-Chin Pang esperation I think that 1 shall never pen * Dear Miss Bundle: Oh, you're sneaky, having a nunlisted number. Well, there ways to flop my mop. all right: telephone are other My father knows the water commissioner in 1