'One Fraternity Pin Equals 50 Votes/
That's How They Used to Play Politics By LARRY LAU
Inner sanctum powwows among
UO biggies indicated that many
Webfoots of pre-war vintage are
quietly grieving for the days when
campus politics was a matter of
cunning instead of fact. Staring
morosely into Olympia bottles they
will, if prompted, regale younger
Webfoots with countless stories of
the intense, but hilarious, political
battles of yesteryear. Last year’s
incorruptible Snowbelle, they say,
provided this era’s first political
belly laugh.
Elections used to feature torch
light parades, kidnappings, mass
beer parties, heated speeches, in
trigue and re-intrigue, coalitions
made up of both Greeks and inde
pendents, and mud-slinging that
was hotter than a Green Goose gos
sip column. A predominating rea
son for the lack of names in this
article is the fact that many of the
“wheels” of the 20’s and 30’s are
back on campus, this time being
paid for running the show. A doub
ter need only check back through
old Emeralds and Oreganas.
In those days it was a battle
royal, three terms a year, with a
group known as the Sigma Chi
bloc matching their wits, and pit
ting their strength against the now
defunct Millrace bloc. The Canard
club was one of the dominating
forces within the Sigma Chi bloc.
The records show that the Millrace
group must have had a slight edge,
having won a majority of the elec
tions.
With campus population always
under 4000 it was possible to fore
cast with uncanny accuracy, how
many votes each candidate -might
get. The victors seldom won by
more than 100 votes and sometimes
by less than 20. Every election,
whether for student-body president,
or secretary of the Spanish club,
was an intricate, slam-bang af
fair that almost everyone partici
pated in because they were great
ly interested. They claim that re
turning to politics as they were
played in the past will obviate the
present day necessity of telling stu
dents when and how to vote. Oth
ers claim that competitive spirit in
politics is out of place and, like boo
ing referees, gets out of hand and
destroys its purpose. We’ll concede
that there are excellent argu
ments for both schools.
There is the now-famous story of
the time when one of the Canard
clubbers was running for ASUO
prexy. It was to be a close election
and several Greek and independent
organizations were hanging back,
refusing to pledge their support to
either candidate . . . Also, there
was a little matter of who was go
ing to be Junior Weekend queen.
Sigma Chi bloc leaders contacted
one of the fence-riding sororities
(whose name we promised not to
mention) and offered their support
to one of their girls for JW queen if
they would support their candidate
to the No. 1 spot. . . . Fine! The
deal was made and the girl slid
easily into the queenship with the
rest of the votes split between the
other candidates.
Millrace bloc leaders weren’t idle!
They decided soriiething—anything
should be done, or their candidate
would (as they figured it) take a
50 vote licking. About a week be
fore the election a designated mem
ber of the Millrace crew conducted
a whirlwind courtship and succeed
ed in planting his pin on the political
representative from the aforemen
tioned sorority. Evidently all aflut
ter, the gal got business mixed
up with pleasure and swung her
whole house over to the millrace
aspirants, who eked out a very
narrow (17 votes) on the strength
of this tender, romantic, double
cross.
Perhaps one of these springs sev
eral groups with either real or
fancied grievances, will get to
gether, foment in secret, and burst
out wearing the daring gown of a
third pai’ty, or coalition. If noth
ing else, this would give a post
war student body a chance to see
how they like pre-war brass band
and party politics.
The way it stands now, being
chairman of two consecutive clean
up committees places one in line
for the presidency. We'll wager
Mssrs. Stassen and Taft wishes it
were that simple.
Emerald
ALL-AMERICAN 1946-47
The Oregon Daily Emerald, official publication of the University of Oregon, published
daily during the college year except Sundays, Mondays, and final examination period"*.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice, Eugene, Ore.
Member of the Associated Collegiate Press
BOB FRAZIER, Editor
BOB CHAPMAN, Busine»« Msn»gw
BILL YATES
Managing Editor
JUNE GOETZE, BOBOLEE BROPHY
Co-News Editors
DON FAIR FRED TAYLOR
Co-Sports Editor
walt McKinney, jeanne simmonds, maryann thielen
Associates to Editor
Despite All the Wails
It isn't very good, but it isn’t nearly so bad as the rumors
of a month ago would have indicated. House grades, re
leased last weekend by the registrar, show that the all-Uni
versity average is down, but only by .139. The rumor last
month would have put it down about .4 or even .5.
A careful study of these figures also reveals some rather
startling things. The Greek-letter organizations did pretty
■well. '1'hey dropped considerably less than the all-campus
average, with sororities showing a decline of only .072 from
spring term, and fraternities showing a drop of only .085.
Biggest single debacle is seen in the average for "men’s
clubs,” which dropped .405. Traditionally the leader in schol
arship, this class gave way even to the fraternities this fall.
Women’s clubs dropped only .104 from spring term.
Despite their decline of .203 from spring term, non-organ
ization men maintain the lead on the male side of the books.
Nott-organization women- of course, keep their lead on the
other side. Which may or may not prove that it pays not to
join too many lodges.
However—and this is the amazing thing—Greek letter or
ganizations are at the top of both columns. The DGs with
a 2.78 nose out the I’i Phis and their 2.75. Last term the Fi
Phis got a 2.74 while the DGs had to be content with a lousy
2.71. ‘Twould seem to call for a duel. Both organizations
were beaten spring term bv the 2.83 of Highland house, a
traditionally top-rank group which dropped to 22nd place in
the all-campus scale, and to 15th on the women’s side of the
score sheet. Tan Kappa Epsilon, a new group on the campus,
leads men’s houses with a 2.(>5. Generally speaking the dorm
itory students showed as usual although sororities did top
women’s dorms this time.
What does all this prove? Not a heck of a lot, unless you
are trilling to admit that grades, as such, prove a heck of a
lot. And you can’t admit that unless you are willing to admit
that one course is just at hard as another.
The only practical value to be gained from a list of house
grades ;s the possible inspiration they give some house to
crack the whip on lazy brothers and sisters. One group—a
house which showed a drop of more than .d—is really doing
something about it. The house scholarship officer interviewed
each student who received a "D” grade, regardless of his
GPA. He determined first how many times the student had
eut the class in which he received the “D”. Then he discussed
other problems of the course with the student. That house
stands to come way up this term.
Whatever Happened to Joe?
“There Are No G. I.s any more,” says Theodore Draper in
tire January 31 issue of “The Saturday Evening Post”. Draper,
former division historian for the 84th infantry division, draws
tin’s conclusion after attending a division reunion recently in
Denver, where lie talked with his old buddies. He found
people he knew, but there were not as he knew them. His
buddies were civilians now, only two years after sweating out
the repple depples in the ETO.
The article is largely case-histories- with a few general con
clusions that should be of particular interest to the veteran
in college. Draper observes that the older group that had felt
the hardships of war most keenly, was more easily adjusted to
the rigors of civilian life. Most of these men had families to
return to jobs waiting for them. The war had been only an
interruption in their careers.
The younger group was not so easily readjusted. By-and
large this group was more impressionable, more easily chang
ed by the war experience. When they were discharged, they
became civilians, too, but they were two to five years older
than they had been before they entered the service, had no
jobs, no skills, no families of their own. Generally speaking,
that is the group that came to college to take advantage of
the G. I. bill.
Upon graduation (1947 thrpugh 1951) they will still be
only at the beginning of careers—two to six years after the
war ended. In some respects their problems are only begin
ning. To many of them, the author observes, the thought is
ever present, “Where would I be now if it hadn't been for
the war.” It's a rare G. I. student who hasn’t asked himself
that more than once.
Out “in the world" Draper finds little distinction between
the veteran and the non-veteran. The clannishness that was
• so noticeable right after the war—the envy, suspicion and
contempt for the war-time civilians—has largely melted awav.
Now. he says, it is more or less assumed that a person of
veteran age is a veteran.
The "ruptured duck" which all veterans wore so belliger
ently in the winter and spring of 1945-46 is now seen only
rarely. 1 he casual observer is safe in assuming, however that
nearly everybody has one home in the dresser drawer.
Rarely now do veterans meet as veterans to discuss
“cleaning things up." Too often the veteran has found that
the only thing he has in common with another veteran is the
memory of being drafted.
AVe remember for example coming home from the wars
and discussing with other veterans the chances of "doing
something" about Oregon’s obsolete liquor laws. That was
nearly two years ago and the laws remain as before.
It is unfortunate that the author of the Post’s article did
not write in greater detail about the reaction to veterans’ or
ganizations. It would be interesting to read if we are correct
in our observation that the larger organizations appeal prin
cipally to a certain type of veteran—or citizen—and that this
type does not ordinarily frequent college campuses.
Rut there may be a problem coming. If the present level of
employment in the nation is to be maintained, the author
warns, a couple of million more jobs will have to be found for
the veterans now in colleges. “The clouds on the horizon
cannot be ignored without peril," he observes. That’s us.
Side Patter
By SALLIE T1MMENS
This campus has more gay
dogs than carter has pills. But
then that is just my own private
opinion after the events of the
past weekend. It rounded out a
month of pinnings, engagements,
house dances, and various sundry
brawls.
These gay collegians who have
been ambiguously referred to as
serfs, the country club set (how
incongruous can we get?), tur
tles, peasants, and occasionally
students proved themselves adroit
at sticking to maxims such as
“all work and no play makes
Jack, or Jill as the case might be,
mighty dull.” (Apologies extend
ed to the original creator of such
deathless prose).
To begin with, the Phi Psis add
ed a note of variety to their cos
tume dance, which was dubiously
tabbed “Davy Jones’ Locker,” by
pulling a treasure hunt before
hand. The prize for which les
femmes and dates scurried over
the countryside was a bottle of
mouthwash entitled Haig & Haig.
Kick Hopper was surrounded by
his many thirsty friends when he
held up a victorious paw which
clenched said bottle.
Seen crawling about were Ann
Fenwick of Hendricks with Don
Renwiek, Virgil Tucker with ChiO
cutie “sugar” Collinson, and DG
Ann Kite witli Vic Sellman. Sub
tlety expert Larry Lawless
snagged himself a fine date in the
person of ChiO Kay Snyder who
went as something surrealistic
from the art school.
Down the road a piece the K
Sigs had their winter formal.
House prexy George Bell squired
ChiO Pat Davis, Kappa Kay
Becker was there with Jack Don
ald, and Pi Phi Jacqueline Young
er with Dave Eakin. Phil Patter
son had lovely Pi Phi Bev Pitt
man as his date, Dick Morrison
was with Tri Delt Beth Shoulder
brand, and King of Hearts candi
date A1 Kicbel was with the Kap
pa's “Georgia” Balaam.
Also two more millrace house
dances were the Beta’s “Water
front Cafe” complete with the old
French sex appeal and the Chi
Psi’s “Cave Man” dance. Theta
Jeanne Foster came down from
Salem for the Beta dance and was
there with Ray Farmer, OSC Phi
Delt Ed Bishop, a friend of
George* Alexander’s, was also
down from Salem to go with
Gammafie Jeanne Swift. Kappa
Barbara Vowels looked mighty
cute on 'the arm of Bill Yates, and
Gammafie Harriet Huston and
Dick Laird caused much pleasant
chatter.
Playing the perfect Cave Man
was that “hot boy” for coke dateg,
Jim Liiison with Theta Joan Ed
wards. Half pints George Gibson
and Theta Eugenia Bileter made
a good combo sitting cross-legged
on the floor, sans silverware at
the fried chicken gathering. Hu
mor has it occasional prehistoric
squeals could be heard from the
furnace room. ChiO Pan Newton
was sporting a bone in her hair
and Chuck Rufner as date.
Winners of the CHESTER
(Plcase turn to pane three)