SuflQGL magcazine inside: page four-books page five- looking back Number 2 Editor: Stephen Hersh Associate Editors: Ann Marie Lipinski, Elaine Fletcher September 19, 1976 Ford's WHEN THE PRESIDENT COMES TO TOWN, the band plays and children cheer, cameras flash and pretty people come to watch. But when Gerald Ford came to Ann Arbor, things were different. The band leader got sued when he decided to play, the children had to weave through chanting demonstrators, the President fearfully ducked in his limousine seat when he saw the waving sorority women on Hill Street, and iisappointed TV camera- persons had to settle for brief shots of Ford running through the rain at Willow Run Airport. It just wasn't right. "What finally happened," summarized one Ford aide, "was not what we wanted." Taking inventory this weekend of the event that will probably be chronicled as the biggest deal of the year by local newspapers and yearbooks alike, Univer- sity scholars shook their heads over Ford's strange ap- pearance. Quite curious about its famous alumnus, but wryly amused at the spectacle it sponsored, Ann Arbor This story was written by Daily night editor Jim Tobin with files from Phillip Bokovoy, Jay Levin, Ann Marie Lipinski and Stu McConnell. isit: An is wondering why Ford came here at all. Why was he cheered? Why was he heckled? And what in the world was in the minds of the thousands of students who belted out "The Victors" one moment and booed Ford the next? University Journalism Prof. William Porter wrote a book on Richard Nixon's relations with the press; he has an idea of why presidents put themselves through ordeals such as this. And says Porter, "the man just has great sentimentality for the place. He wanted to be here and launch his campaign with the football team. I think he's just that kind of a guy - terribly sentimental. I heard he originally wanted to hold it in Michigan Stadium on the morning of the Wisconsin game. What better way to launch his campaign?" Though the football motif in the Crisler program may have seemed out of context in a political rally, it was business as usual for Bob Ufer - the radio an- nouncer who broadcasts the Michigan football games. Ufer is a successful Ann Arbor insurance man, flies a Michigan flag high above his house and is rumored to have maize and blue toilet seats. The man is Michi- gan to thousands of fans who listen to the games on the radio every football Saturday. And he adores the image. Wednesday, he stormed out onto the dais to warm up the swelling Crisler crowd, crooning dramat- ically into the microphone, spastically waving his arms as if he were George Cavender directing the Michigan Marching Band through another rendition of "The Vic- tors." He frantically welcomed the audience to "Cris- ler's Cathedral. Cazzie's Castle. or better yet, the home of the Number One Football Team in Amariea" "Political figures love identifying themselves with popular symbols - the flag, Mom, apple pie," said Wil- liam Gamson, chairman of the Sociology Dept., trying to explain Wednesday's phenomenon. "Ford used foot- ball, which is very popular, as something to associate himself with, because it is a non-devisive, unifying fac- tor." University cultural anthropoligist Conrad Kottak was thinking about politics: "The Democrats are per- ceived as left, the Republicans are perceived as right. You see Jimmy Carter using rock stars in his cam- paign - rock has traditionally been associated with the left. And Ford uses football - football has tra- ditionally been associated with the right. The Republi- cans (at the Crisler speech) tried to identify with football. Football unifies American culture regardless of ethnic group or class. They're simply using football, something all Americans share." AN ANN ARBOR SATURDAY was in the air; that was certain. Ford himself fed into the mood by pro- claiming he'd "rather run against Jimmy Carter than Harlan Huckleby any day of the week," and donning a Wolverine parka when his address was over. But for all the sensations, this was no football battle. The stakes were higher. Ford had as much to lose as he did to gain with his campaign kickoff, and it took either guts or startling naivete to stage it all in Crisler Arena. Which was it? Might he have been courting hecklers? He was almost booed off the stage when he spoke at the 1974 commencement exercises here as vice-president. Why didn't he shun the place forever, quaking at the thought of belligerent young radicals? "He probably thought there wasn't a rIsk involved," irmchair Gamson said. "Ford is not a person that stirs up strong passion. There's no war going on, just drifting issues." "I don't think Ford was afraid to face the stu- dents," said Kottack. "He knew there was nothing he had done in national policy that would stir up students like Nixon or Johnson or even Humphrey." WHERE WERE THOSE LOST students of the Sixties? There was shouting opposition to much of what Ford said, to be sure, but no scheme of disruption. The time for that, apparently, was past. The Movement was not reincarnated at Crisler. "There were many major issues and social move- ments ten years ago," said Gamson. "But this is just a presidential campaign with a bland and conservative candidate. analsis The reason for the lack of dissent may be even more basic than that, hypothesized History Prof. Ray- mond Grew. It just might have been that good old homespun, home team pride. "People from Michigan tend to feel like they're not appreciated," said Grew, "So they're proud just to have somebody from the state make President, even if he's not much of a President." What of Ford himself? He told reporters the next day that "overall, it was great." But it is clear that his staff - or somebody - botched things up horribly. In particular, almost all the media were excluded from the obvious main "media event" of the day - Ford's question-and-answer session with 20 University stu- dents. Daily Photo by PAULINE LUBENS "A lot of people went to phis because it was a spec- tacle. It was something to see. The President of the United States was there, and they were curious. People didn't come to heckle." Kottack went a step furtner. "There's a class ele- ment when you're talking about students. Ford repre- sents the Republican party, which is a middle and upper-middle class party, and most college kids belong to the upper middle and middle classes. The issues that Ford and Carter are opposite on - unemployment, health care, and so on - aren't very exciting to most students. "College age kids are not being affected as much now as they were by the problems of the Vietnam war. I was at the earliest teach-ins at Columbia University and we were concerned about the immediate danger of being drafted." White House press secretary Ron Nessen said Ford didn't want to "exploit" the students, but advance man Doug Blaser said it was "simply a matter of con- fusion and congestion. It was only closed at the last minute because of room size and the number of stu- dents." Whatever the reasons, observers are not com- menting favorably on the end result. "I think unquestionably it would have been bet- ter (to have allowed the media entry into the session) but someone at the last minate decided not to," said Porter. "If you're going to stage a media event, you should milk all the opportunities for what they're worth." James McCartney, Free Press Washington corres- pondent, questioned the validity of the reasoning Nes- See FORD, Page 4 Daily Photo by PAULINE LUBENS Fllrting By MIKE LONG THE RIDER SQUIRMS into the cockpit of the kayak, gets a firm grip on the double-bladed paddle, and bounces out into the frothy river. He fights the cur- rent to keep the boat from smashing into the numerous boulders. If he doesn't watch his step, he may be thrown headlong into the next world, in a loud splash of creamy white water and a shower of shattered kayak shards. The roar of approaching falls suddenly fills his ears, and in a moment he is upon them. It seems like a long drop - long enough, anyway, to make him almost lose with de his balance. But he manages to stay up- right, and as soon as his kayak hitssthe water again, the swift current is send- ing him forward with a vengance. He's surrounded by trees, blue sky and bright sunlight, but he's oblivious to the scenery. The sights are overshadowed in his mind by the raging water. For the members of Ann Arbor's kayak- ing club - which is called the Raw Strength and Courage organization, or RS&C - moments like these are the most thrilling life has to offer. "It's the most intimate combination of man and boat I've ever come across," path in a says Paul Lang, a long time RS&C mem- ber and an experienced kayaker. Lang, whose thin, wiry frame could only be called an asset in this sport, explains his feelings toward kayaking this way: "It's frightening, but you lose your fear as soon as you start battling the thing. Then you can start having some fun." But Lang admits, "At times, when you finish you just have to look back with relief." There's an ever-present threat of losing control of the boat, and this gives white- water kayaking its hard-edged, dangerous flavor - especially onl a river that's new and unfamiliar to the sportsperson. kayak "On a new river," says Lang, "you can't see where the rapids are but you can hear them roaring. When you come to a falls that you haven't scouted, you don't know what's below. You just lay back and let the current throw you a little, and try to keep your balance with the paddle. I guess it's a lot like being in a washing ma- chine." RUT KAYAKING ON a straight course down turbulent rivers is not enough to satisfy the RS&C members' lust for ad- venture. And so they specialize in white- water slalom competition, which involves dodging between obstacles, going back- wards as well as forwards. A slalom course has 20 to 30 "gates" - two poles hung a yard or more apart, just above the water. Like the slalom skiler, the slalom paddler is scored according to his course time, the number of poles the boat or paddle touches, and paddling style. "It's a test of finesse as well as endur- ance," Bill Black, another member of RS&C is quick to point out. "A typical course is run in only about four minutes, but it's much more intense than something like wrestling, for instance." Black, who is 28 years old, began build- ing and paddling kayaks about three years ago. Although kayak - making has become a nearly full-time occupation for him, he still finds time for weekend travels with other RS&C members, once or twice a month, to the national white water com- petitions held in the Anpalachian streams of Pennsylvania. New York. Maryland and Viroinia. The rivers in those states by fnr outclass the Michigan streams in terms of Pvan4-n, nv" Daily Photo by PAULINE LUBENS so. For true adventure and serious compe- tition, nothing less than the most difficult will do. Though the qualities of raw strength and courage certainly may be an asset in slalom kayaking, training and practice are equally essential. I discovered that myself, this summer, when on the relative safety of Silver Lake, I paddled one of these boats for the first time. It seemed - or, .. ... ..