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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 22, 1945)
Acting Managing Editor
Acting Advertising Manager
Acting Sports Editor
MARILYN SAGE, WINIFRED ROMTVEDT
Mary Margaret Ellsworth, Jack Craig, Ed Allen
Published daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, and holidays and
final exam periods by the Associated Students, University of Oregon.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice, Eugene, Oregon.
Arfcvn • • •
Tonight the spotlight shifts from the new students to "the
University’s man of the year—Dr. Harry K. Newburn. A steady
stream of students will shake his presidential hand and get
their first glimpse of the man who is to guide the University’s
For the first time since the year started two weeks ago, the
freshmen will have the edge over the upperclassmen. They met
Dr. Newburn during freshman week. But most of the upper
classmen will be meeting him for the first time tonight.
Although we are sure they’ll be polite about it, we have a
hunch a lot of people will be attending tonight’s reception pure
ly out of curiosity.
We have to check to see if he looks like a former college
athlete. And we want to see his wife because we've heard from
the local grapevine that she, as well as her husband, is young
and charming. Their pictures look quite handsome and we want
to know if they do them justice. Our only regret is that we
wont be" able to see the baby but we understand that Mike is a
little too young to stand in a receiving line and shake hands.
Dr. Newburn has been here only a few months. This is his
first opportunity to see the students of the University during a
regular session. He’ll be looking us over, too, we suppose, and
we want him to like us.
The faculty members who are planning tonight’s program
realize that all of us want to meet him. So they have dreamed
up a talent show with a double purpose—to keep Dr. Newburn
from being mobbed by the crowds and to make us forget there s
still a 'man shortage.
Tt will be a mutual review tonight, but it will also be much
more. It will be out first all-campus social affair of the season,
and it will be our only big social affair before we settle down to
the year’s work.
Ike Scene Ski^ti . . .
'Those w ho are "old with the U of O" have never known a
peacetime Oregon. 'The much-looked-for changes that the Jap
anese surrender promised will occur gradually and steadily un
til the graduating class of ’-O w ill scarcely recall life on an al
most manless campus. "With the disappearance of uniforms, the
khaki-colored lines of AS'l'Ps that marched through the rain
to classes will become a myth. Coeds who said goodbye to tlvc
ERC in the spring of '43 will see many of those'men return to
a different and greater Oregon.
. The traditions have remained, but the scholastic standards
are higher. 'The "country club" epithet is a thing of the past.
Women have become editors, chairmen, and class and ASUO
presidents. However, despite the authority of the feminie voice
i in the war years, to Oregon women the sight of a man-filled
Side is good. The sound of men's voices at regisration strikes
a familiar chord. Reconversion to the proverbial'"man's world"
.will be welcome when it comes.
The 900-mcu‘eJwcmien»tban-men enrollment: estimate is sof
tened by the fact that there is a 100 per cent increase in the
male element on the-cumpus since last year. For the next, two
years this percentage will grow with each term. ’There will be
some of the much-discussed adjustment involved. Women will
not lose their present place in university life—they will merely
change it for a normal one in this finally postwar world.
-tyobtif.-NiH&lA, . . .
To you of tlu* class of 1949 who have boon hailed ami greeted
at assemblies, teas, and in your living organizations manv times
during the last week, we add our welcome. Still in a nuclear
state of mind concerning the win s and wherefores of life on a
university campus, you will soon fall into the Web foot pattern
—a cog in the, educational machine. You will know the new
campus from the old and one brick building from another. You
will refer to the library as the "libe" and become familiar with
the various 11\\ and ll.MCK's. You will discover the merits of
the Side and the millrace—and perhaps Robinson’s and Hen
dricks park—and the demerits of final week, umbrellas, and the
infirmafy. You will learn which instructors are "easv graders”
t'leaduta Ivi £>Kjaum&nt . .
For those who enjoy a quiet
chuckle to themselves or those who
are proud of their abilities as
raconatuers, Bennett Cerf, editor,
publisher, columnist, book it/view
er and radio commentator has
gathered together in one tidy
Of a Buddy
Meet a Buddy
Although the number of former
Oregon men returning to the cam
pus promises to become a steady
stream in a matter of months,
most of the “old gang’’ are still
wearing the uniforms of the vari
ous services and making news in
their wartime roles.
Technician fourth grade Jack L.
Robinson is a personnel clerk with
headquarters of a signal battalion
on Luzon. Three years ago, Jack
was in the spotlight as a member
of the varsity swimming squad at
Oregon and of the all-Pacific-coast
conference swimming team.
Another former Webfoot, marine
Sergeant Haskell Scott, has re
turned to the States after 114 com
bat missions in the Pacific. He
reported that an intricate system
of barter soon replaced a highly
developed system of thievery
among the Okinawans after the
expulsion of the Japs.
The marges became brokers to
handle the trade between the sail
ors and the navy in the little
village of Iji, he said. Scott parti
cipated as an aerial gunner in
seven strikes against the Jap
homeland and hit targets on other
Japanese possessions. As an extra
curricular pastime he flew as a
gunner on a navy plane in strikes
on Korea and Shanghai and a mis
sion to Vladivostok.
Kappa Sig Rex S. Adolph has
been promoted to captain at head
quarters of the Far East air ser
vice command. During 14 months
overseas duty, he has been sta
tioned in Brisbane, Lae, Hollandia,
Among the first group of offi
cers to be discharged since the end
of hostilities was Captain Lee M.
Rennolds, former University stu
dent. He served with the army air
forces for 43 months as pilot.
Flying with the 5th air force in
the troop carrier command, he
earned an oak leaf cluster before
returning to the States.
From China comes word that
Major Arthur M. Murphy, Ore
gon alum, was decorted with the
Bronze Star medal for meritorious
service shortly before he returned
to the United States on temporary
duty. During the period covered
by the award, Major Murphy lived
within 600 yards of the Japanese
lines at an elevation of 10,000 feet
in the mountains of southwest
volume a collection of anecdotes
and stories taken from all phases
of American life.
Cerf’s new book is composed of
a number of assorted giggles
chuckles and smiles. Stories of
famous personalities such as Alex
ander Woollcott, Bernard Shaw,
Gertrude Stein, Bob Sherwood,
George Kaufmann and taany
others sparkle and crackle its
Besides the most amusing anec
dotes of the theatre, the author
has collected amusing incidents
from the world of movies, books,
and sports. All in all, “Try and
Stop Me” includes hundreds of
stories of all flavors and adds up
to a storehouse of laughter that
will tide the reader over any sort
of depression for a long time.
If you have read Cerf’s weekly
column, “Trade Winds,” in the
Saturday Review of Literature,
you will remember that he has a
very quick and subtle sense of
lumor—If you read "Try and Stop
Me,” you will have no doubt about
In his new column, Cerf makes
io pretense of dubbing this huge
collection of anecdotes and stories
is his own, but tells you frankly
;he difficulty of establishing auth
>rship to a story or a joke.
Collecting the Stories
Supplementing Cerf’s own pro
digious memory for funny stories,
he has poured through countless
issues of the New Yorker, Time,
Life, Newsweek, Variety, Reader’s
Digest, and Cornet in his quest of
additional anecdotes. He also has
devoured reams of columns of
Winchell, Lyons, Sobol, Hoffmann
and their fellow columnists. . . •
He has given credit for his sources
Just one word of warning
about “Trya and Stop Me” . . .
Don’t try to digest the whole
volume of laughs at once . . .
try a few at a time . . . they will
be much more enjoyable.
Few men would be as qualified
as Cerf to edit such a volume.
While at Columbia he was the
editor of ‘‘The Jester.” He received
his B.A. in 1919, with a Phi Beta
Kappa key, and his Litt.B. in 1920
from the School of Journalism.
Since then he has written several
books, reviewed books, written
columns, acted as a radio commen
tater, headed a publishing house,
and was attended to a host life'
Cerf’s other books include the
best sellers ‘‘The Pocket Book of
War Humor,” and “The Pocket
Book of War Cartoons.” He has
also written three murder novels,
and a number of other books.
iW. .T. .IT. .1. .1. A *Yi A A A A
1—1—i—r T1—I T T T T T •—I T »»TI TJIII II I I * t • •
The time is 5 :53 a. m. You’re tired, you’re sleepy. The bags
under your eyes are bigger than any in the bagge car. Your
clothes are a mess. Your hair—what will the fellows think?
The train on which you’ve been riding for three days and three
nights pulls into the good old Eugene station. With tears of
joy dimming your eyes you
stagger off your day coach
(no berths available), and
gaze in the direction of the
campus. It's wonderful! You’re
back, "back to the old gang in
the dormitory (you think)..
After accidentally switching
your luggage with the old gentle
man who sat in the aisle ail the
way from San Mateo, you recover,
your property after a four block
chase climaxed by a flying tackle.
A hasty apology is murmured and
you rush back to the station to
call a cab. With the usual prompt
ness, your taxi arrives at 11:45.
Old Familiar Places
As you are whisked through the
city’s streets, you recognize all the
old landmarks—The White Palace,
Officer’s Club, Robinson's, Tay
lor’s, but foremost in your mud
dled mind is the thought of your
own comfy little dorm.
Then suddenly you have arrived!
There stands the magnificent ivy
covered edifice you’ve been dream
ing about for so long. You toss
your bags on the sidewalk and
rush through the door. There’s no
one in the living room, but that
and that "pipe" courses are fast disappearing from the curric
You may be a potential Phi Bete, an activity person, or a
local gaydog—hut whatever your lot, within a few weeks you
will he a well-versed and loyal Webfoot.
‘Your place in life at Oregon will he determined only by what
you do here—not by what you have done. The result of your
four years will he the topic of many a future when-I-was-in
college conversation, and we hope that you will crowd as much
as possible into these twelve terms.
l'reshman are important in a university student body. They
provide new blood, new ideas, fill up the classrooms, and do the
thousands of small jobs which culminate in big things later.
They are open-minded—apd a source of strength. Perhaps
you, as freshmen may feel your tack'of experience.-Bttt as soph-;
omores, you will be the “old-timers’,,' ready to offer yotrr know
ledge to those in the class beneath, you. You are entering col
lege at a critical time, and post-war Oregon will depend chiefly
on you as a high school graduate, a veteran, or a former light
or dark-collar worker.
To you. members of the largest and most interesting fresh
man class in many years,' we say again, Welcome and Good
makes no difference for all your
old cronies are upstairs (it says
Eager strides carry you up the
first flight and half way down the
corridor. Then it happens. Sud
denly out of nowhere a bath towel
clad male appears yelling, “What
the H are you doing here?”
The Awful Truth
Now you realize the awful truth.
Your dormitory, YOUR dormitory,
has been occupied by men, and
you, well, you’re a girl. Being of
sound mind, it takes you only sev
eral minutes to determine you
shouldn’t be there.
In the streets once more you are
informed by a passer-by that
Hendricks hall has plenty of room.
You give a freshman boy a nickel
plus a cork-tipped cigaret to
watch/- your bags and gleefully
limp across the campus. “Sorry,
your name isn’t on our list,” greets
Oh, sweet consolation, Susan
Campbell will let you shack jtg
Your painful way across the Qua
drangle is rewarded by a similar
answer. Of course, if you’d live in
the barracks . . . Our coed does not
inquire as to the nature of the
barracks, thinking it undoubtedly
is a military installation.
Visits to various boarding houses
and campus offices result only in
sad smiles and head shakes. Being
a score of blocks from the campus
by this time, you drag the stumps,
formerly called feet, back to Susie.
You crawl up the steps with the
feeble cry, “I’ll take the barracks
. . . anything, the barracks ...”
You awaken in last year’s rec
reation room now crowded with
bunks and bewildered coeds'. In a
few minutes recovery is achieved
through a series of cigarets and
you learn that this reconverted rec
room is the famous barrack’s. You
stop to consider your roommates.
There are five, six, then a window
is opened, and as the nicotine haze
lifts you discover 13. Bags aj;e
stacked precariously on the tables. ^
Some one searches frantically
for-a. plug-in, because she simply
:aaan't miss Bob Hope. Upstairs 'a
talented eoed beats out a Chopin
Movement, suddenly switching to
'Your Socks Don’t Match."
Bolting across the room, the
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