Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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GLENDA MILLER INTERIM EDITOR JIM FARRELL ART FRANK MGN. ED. AD MANAGER EDITORIALS Plnsrong tim Plans have been announced to widen Pickens Street from Pendleton to Green and to construct a 40-foot wide walkway over the depressed street. There are many arguments for and against this proposal, but one thing Is certain, it is a topic of concern to University students. If the plans are carried through almost half of the front courtyard of the Humanities classroom building will be lost. This is something that many students do not want to see. Whether or not a student or any member of the University community is for or against this proposal, they deserve to have a voice at the public hearing which has been scheduled for March 29. March 29 is In the middle of spring break. It is too late for students to plan to stay a few extra days to attend the hearing and too early for students to return to USC. Is this a deliberate effort to suppress student disap proval or to halt student opinion of a project that primarily effects students and the community In which they live? This date Is absurd and the students should not allow their voices to be suppressed in such a manner. Perhaps it is not too late to have the hearing date changed. Every attempt should be made to have the hearing at a time when student opinion can be voiced and heard. This Is important to the students and ther community so let's hope we, the students, can take some action. Plans have been announced to widen Pickens Street from Pendleton to Green and to construct a 40-foot wide walkway over the depressed street. There are many arguments for and against this proposal, but one thing is certain, It is a topic of concern to University students. Thanksfor suppori The Gamecock wishes to express its thanks to all of those who voiced their verbal and financial support of this publication in the recent controversy concerning the Feb. 2 issue containing the investigative stories on the drug scene on campus. We appreciate Bill Workman, of the South Carolina Press Association (SCPA), and editor of The State, for the editorial which appeared in The State defending our stand not reveal confidential sources and his support of our publishing the articles. We walso would like to express our gratitude to William L. Kinney Jr., president of the SCPA and editor of the Marlboro Herald Advocate in Ben nettsville, S.C.,for his editorial and analysis of the situation in that publication. The Gamecock Is also in debt to the USC student chaptei of Sigma Delta Chi, professional journalistic society, foi its resolution in support of our confidentiality an< publication and Its financial support and aid in obtaining legal fees. This organization has truly upheld its ideal 01 helping those both in and out of the journalism profession The Gamecock sincerely appreciates the help of thes< per sons, Its attorneys, Jean Toal and James Brailsford IIIi and many others who gave us aid and support in a time o need and a time when journalistic practices and ideal were at stake. To these persons The Gamecock owes great debt of gratitude. Please don 't, Richarc Vice President Spiro Agnew said that he doesn't know if he is going to run again. He also said that Nixon hasn't invited him to run again. AAay we make a suggestion to Nixon? Donn't. The watermark Running By BOB CRAFT Feature Editor Well, I guess it's over now. Since I'm writing this on Tuesday af ternoon, I don't know any of the paiticulars. But, thank God, it's over. The one thing that I feel certain of at this point in time is that I didn't win the Presidency. Well, easy come, easy go. People have asked me why I ran and I really don't have a concrete answer. Perhaps the flip ones I used like, "Well, it was two dollars for a lot of entertainment; cheaper than a movie." Perhaps it was closer to the Mailer-Breslin thing in New York, two reporters run ning for the highest offices in the immediate vicinity. Or maybe it was just to see what it felt like, so if I ever had the occasion to blast the student government, I wouldn't feel so bad because I had run. In our blue jeans and facial hair we confronted the double knit and clean shaven minions of the student laboratory in bureaucracy. The whole thing is balled up in those reasons along with the ego dreams that invariably slip in when one realizes that one is on the ballot. Anyway, I ran. It started one day in the Gamecock office when I said something about it to Harry Hope, who was fated to play a limping Breslin to my inarticulate Mailer. Neither of us had had lunch, and being caught up in the misdirected enthusiasm that so often ac companies that slack period before lunch when you don't feel like working and it isn't time to eat yet, we descended upon the student government office to demand the name and location of the head of the elections commission. In our blue jeans and facial hair we confronted the double-knit and clean shaven minions of the student laboratory in bureaucracy. "We just rode in off the desert and heard y'all was havin' an election and we wonna join up," Harry said as we stumbled in. We were dismayed to find that we took them by surprise. There was no elections commission. Someone, I think it was Mike Rierson, suggested that we go bacI~ up to the Gamecock office and make plans to announce out candidacies in that publication. The edge to our enthusiasm had been dulled somewhat, but we dic as he suggested. We went back t< the office and sat down, threw line: around, laughed and made up oui first and only press release cun platform. The editors were a little leery o us and we realized then that the bil obstacle was not so much the othei candidates, but getting people t( helheve we were on the level. from the p "Of course, we're serious about this thing, about as serious as we ever get," I said, keeping our credibility at a consistent low point. The picture and story came out after we promised we wouldn't make a fool out of the paper by backing out of the race. We were committed then. But like all newspaper stories this one hit and then drifted down in the oblivion of the subconcious after having once been read. Then from time to time as I would make my rounds to classes trekking from the Humanities or to the Coliseum or when I was standing in corridors or sitting in the office, people would stop and ask me how the campaign was going and I would tell them fine, but that I was trying to keep it a secret. They would laugh politely or smile and then walk away. The the final week came and it was here before I knew it and my campaign manager, Joe Comeaux, told me I was to go to Bates House on Sunday evening and attend a speak-out? A debate? Forum? Forum then. A forum for the candidates to give their platforms and perhaps pick up a little su port. I didn't want to go. I didn't know what I could say, I had no idea what I was to do. It would be me I had no promises of matchbooks. I had not labored in Student Government. I had no credentials to dazzle those 50-75 hostile faces. against the heathens. I told those who forced and cajoled me to go along continually, "I don't want to do this." We arrived at Bates House at aabout 8:15 and no one else was there. We went in and asked then If the forum was to be held and my crossed fingers not withstanding, we were told that the forum would indeed be held. We sat down in the Bates House Lounge and talked and then we saw the Jennings supporters walk in all aflush with campaign zeal and tacky leaflets. More and more candidates and workers drifted in and at about 8:25 we decided It was time to go to the Cafeteria. We were among the first and we bought some cokes in cans and decided to play the jukebox. I selected both sides of Neil Young's single,"Heart of Gold" and "Sugar Mountain" I sat down at a table and watched the leaflets and the matches and -the buttons file in and hoped that no one would come over and ask me political things beausea my residency heart had moved uptown to my throat. "Sugar Mountain" stuck on its lead track and some beating on the jukebox from candidates and workers alike was needed to get it started. I talked to Comeaux for awhile before he went off to talk politics with someone else's campaign manager. The sound system was set up and Pete Feheley asked the candidates to come and sit on the platform. This was it. I was scared. What would I say? I had no promises of matchbooks. I had not labored in Student Government. I had no credentials to dazzle those 50-75 hostile faces. This was bare knuckle street fighting all dressed up in Sunday best I had had stage fright before, but there was always the rehearsal and the prompter behind me. This was bare knuckle street fighting all dressed up in Sunday best. Then I saw something, kind of a glimmer. Just about everyone here was clutching a leaflet like holy script or gazing at one particular candidate in rapt awe. They were all campaign workers! Not all; I was grasping at too many straws, but there were many there and enough to convince me / that there were more there than Bates House residents. They started from the bottom of the order. Secretary, Treasurer, Vice President, then they went to the Presidential candidates. I heard my name called and somehow I made it to the microphone. "I can't promise you anything. I think most you here have already made up your minds because you are campaign workers. I have no illusions that anybody's mind is going to be changed by anything that is said here tonight.You have to make your choice on Tuesday and I'm one of the choices. Thank you. That's not quite correct, as Alice said to the caterpillar, but it's as much as I remember other than cold palms, shaking hands and weak knees. It was kind of like what Dick Cavett once said about not remembering the start of his show until about half-way through and finding himself saying things to people that he wished he hadn't said. There's more to this, but there's no more space to tell it in and I'm sure I've left most of it out. But you've made your choice and it wasn't me. The candidate's demise accomplished with a pencil stroke and today all the leaflets and gladhanding die also. For nnther year, at any rate.