The Last Delegate
By JIM TOBIN I'm the only one left."
The Stranger fidgeted. Ford
NI G ' HUNG heavy over the perspired.
slumbering city. A thin "Oh, yeah. You got nowhere
crescent moon tried to tear else to turn. Eleven hundred and
through the clouds that threat- twenty-nine each, right? And
ened to drench the steaming +" now you want the Old Man's
streets, but to no avail Street vote. It's a big decision, boys.
lights signalled at empty cor- 11WWhich do I choose?"
ners. Otnly the rats were out to- Ford lunged forward in his
night. seat like a crazy man.
A lose window showed a light "For the country!" he cried.
along a dark, downtown block. "The country .. ."
Like a specter it beckoned, a Another snicker from the cor-
dim will-of-the-wisp in a stag- ner. "The country! Ha, ha!
nant sea of night and fog. Blocks Jerry, you wishy-washy little
away a car squealed around a crumb, what the hell do you
corner, coming toward the low know about the country? The
warehouse with the light in the country can fry in hell."
window. Closer and closer it "For the party," breathed
grumbled, a big black bulk The Stranger seductively,
shooting two spears of light "Think of the party. The party
through the Kansas City night. will worship you."
It slid up to the curb, its in- "The party hasn't got guts
habitants shrouded inside. A to puke with," came the reply.
rear door opened and a shadow ""n "And what do you know about
stepped out with a quick glance -i-/ the party? When one of you
in either direction. The door was Z/__ stands for the cheers tomorrow
swung shut from inside; the it won't be because of anything
car growled off.-' you tell me about the country or
The shadow became a man, a the party."
hulk of a man with a high fore- The hot sweat rolled down
head and a face like an ape's. Ford's neck. The Stranger's
A gray trenchcoat covered him knuckles, tight on the arm of
like fog over a mountain. His his chair, grew white.
small eyes darted left and right "What is it, then?" Ford
into the alleys and shadows, and whispered throatily, his eyes
while his bulk was threatening, e wide with fear. The electric
his manner was that of a fright- bulb dimmed slightly. Slowly,
ened, caged animal. , 'rslowly, the chair in the corner
It was Gerald Ford. revolved. A familiar profile
He knocked once, twice, three r- reeted the eyes of Ford and
times, then slipped inside. At The Stranger-the long, jutting
a dull, brown, inner door he Jnose, the beady eyes, the cruel
knocked again, and a low voice jowls.
bade him to enter. The last delegate sneered.
The light came from a bald "I come all this way and you
bulb hanging low from the ceil- Drawing by BRUCE CHEW talk about the country and the
ing, illuminating grimy desks party. My friends, you have
and crumpled pieces of paper. mered. "Did you . . . have I through only a moment before Ronald Reagan was a bad missed the point. The vice-
In the far corner, a leather . . . sprung open again, and there he dudenresidency helped me once. I
swivel chair rocked gently back The low voice cut him off. was. Hands jammed in his rain- "Sit down, Ron." intend for it to help me again."
and forth, its hack to Ford, its "No, Jerry, it's not too late. c The Stranger shuffled to aocs
occupant hidden. A half-nipty lie's late too, so we'll just have oat pockets, a toothpick hang- chair. With an eye planted on Gersld Ford jerked 'm in bed,
whiskey bottle sat on a small to wait.' og from his mouth, sunglasses Ford, he sat down slowly straining for breath. "Mv God,"
table next to the chair. obscurig the mean, squinty F'n . . he easned. "I never shoild have
"Sit down, Jerry." But the wait was brief; a eyes, The Stranger filled the Still unseen behind his chair, nsrdo-ed the son of a bitch."
shriek of tires outside jerked doorway. The cords in his tan- the figure in the far corner
Ford sat. Ford's eyes toward the window. ned, leathery neck stood out as chuckled softly. The Dernisratic National
"You're late, Jerry." tie heard the outer door explode he surveyed the scene; his "Well, this is it, eh boys? Csoiiiittee refused to give Jim
Ford's eyes widened. "It's . . . open, then a quick step in the greased-back hair glinted in the You've finally come to see me. Tobin press credentials for i/s
it's not too late, is it?" he sam- hall, then the door he had come harsh electric light. You couldn't put it off anymore. conven/ion in New York Ci/
The Michigan Daily
Edited and managed by Students at the
University of Michigan
Friday, July 9, 1976
News Phone: 764-0552
THE ARCADE POST OFFICE, a 60-year-old landmark
tucked in the southwest corner of the Nickel Arcade,
may be forced to haul in the mailboxes when the new
Federal Building, equipped with a larger station, opens
The Daily urges Postmaster Richard Schneeberger
to scan the past 60 years and consider a move to continue
service at the tiny station.
The Arcade Post Office offers a blend of convenience
and history surpassed by few buildings in Ann Arbor.
Virtually every student has strolled through the arcade,
just a hop from campus, and postmarked a piece of mail
or purchased a roll of stamps from the friendly attend-
In a city as progressive as Ann Arbor, where glossy
structures increasingly dominate the skyline, it is im-
perative to save some of these timeless sites if we wish to
preserve the charming character of our town,
Convenience and charm. The Arcade Post Office pos-
sesses both. Let's keep it in town.
Letters to The Daily
freebie flck the flack," to coin a phrase
To the Daily: well known is that we usua
At first I could hardly believe Jeffrey Selbst's our own trenches than from
piece in this morning's Daily about the Profes- At any rate, the PTP h
sional Theater Program's new policy of only upon all journalists (flacksi
giving freebie tickets to reporters whose papers ing itself look very, very sil
have already published something about the public relations for them to
production. Then I reflected upon my nearly four at once, but would probably
years as flack at this university and was reminded keep it in force. The attitud
that even the best educated and most intelligent organization to the press is o
of men and women frequently behave irrationally its attitude to the general put
and childishly when dealing with the press. "The public be damned," th
Actually, I decided, the news should not have press should know of it. An(
surprised me at all. says, "By their fruits you sh
It is a constant source of wonder to me that
otherwise reasonable individuals frequently ap-
proach the press with an attitude not unlike that pl
of late '60s radicals toward the police. They fear To the Daily:
it, assuming its motives are only evil. They On July 23rd, 24th and 25
denigrate it, refusing to accept the possibility students at High Point is to I
that a reporter might not only be intelligent, but students, families, staff an
a responsible professional, as well. They insult Point is a center serving spe
it - explicitly with their peers and implicitly to who have physical and ment
the reporter's face. The right to censor what is is a new facility located on
written is often demanded. Along with that goes of Liberty in Ann Arbor.
a naive belief that one can slip on and off the We are having to reach ou
record at will. the community to help us
It is little wonder, then, that one can buy book- ground by utilization of s
lets on "Dealing with The Press" and that there materials. We need utility
are even seminars (very highly-priced) where concrete pipe, cable, rope, na
management types can learn how to deal with scrap lumber and cable reels
those jackals of journalism. And it should come Hoping to hear from youa
as no surprise that jobs exist such as my own to We really need your help!
keep people on the proverbial ramparts "catching Zena V
e. What may be less
illy catch more from
the putative enemy
as visited an insult
included) while mak-
ly. It would be wise
withdraw the policy
y be more honest to
e of an individual or
inly a special form of
blic. If that attitude is
en the public and its
d, as the Good Book
all know them."
Rob Bier -- July 2
laygrouid lie p
th, a playground for
be constructed by the
nd community. High
ecial people ages 0-25
tal impairmtnts. This
Wagner Road south
ut to the resources of
construct this play-
urplus and recycled
poles, railroad ties,
ils, nuts, bolts, chain,
at 769-6522 (Ext. 200).
telber - Ann Saffer