EMERALD
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Anita Holmes, Editor
Lorna Larson, Managing Editor
Don Thompson, Business Manager
Barbara Williams, Advertising Manager
Toil King. Ken Metzler, Don Smith, Associate Editors
HST—Someone to Watch Over Me
Few people covet the shoes of Harry S. Truman today. But
better to be in his than in the boots of his press secretary
Charles Ross or other White House spokesmen.
Theirs is the job of erasing the public baubles Truman is so
adept at making. Thursday saw another blunder added to the
list, and today the cover-up crew is doing its best.
At his regular weekly press conference, Truman said the
atomic bomb would be used if necessary. And he added that
the decision of whether the bomb would be used would fall
to American military leaders in the field.
Did this mean MacArthur controls the trigger to the ter
rible bomb ? #
Most of the reporters got this impression, as did the clean
up crew which was issuing statements two hours after the
conference saying that Mr. Truman didn’t mean MacArthur
would make the “drop-it-decision.”
The man from Missouri’s political advisers were also un
happy that he had even mentioned the use of the bomb. It put
him dangerously close to the Owen Brewster of Maine class.
At this point, the American public remembers another inci
dent or two:
When the Marines were called the police force of the Navy
with a propaganda machine almost equal to Stalin s.
When HST shouted hack and forth with the audience in his
pre-election speech, and aroused contempt from even the
Washington. Post, the administrations favorite newspaper in
Washington, D. C. _ .
When the President broke his presidential honor with the
press, and gave an exclusive interview to Arthur Krock of the
New York Times.
Charles Ross spent many an hour and many a word soothing
the corps of Washington correspondents after that.
A talented man that Ross need be—talented at pulling a
president’s foot out of a president’s mouth.
Christmas Seals Combat TB
“TB” is more than two letters in the alphabet. It has a great
deal of meaning for those afflicted with its ills, lhe annual
tuberculosis drive will commence Monday; it is one of many
drives which will demand your attention throughout the year
—but how many could be more worthy ?
Tuberculosis does not know the meaning of discrimination;
it attacks the rich and the poor find the young and the old.
Humanity knows many forms of sufferings but few more
distressing than that simple horror denoted by those simple
letters, “TB.”
Your part in combatting it is a relatively easy one.
Buy a few Christmas seals—and be confident that your con
tributions will be going to the proper sources.
If you have a seal at hand to put on every Christmas card
you write—then be content to know you ve done your share.
T.K. __
I
THE DAILY
goes to Ann Darby, chairman of the AWS k hristmas
j)artv, and also to members of Alpha Omicron 1’i, w ho are
turning their house over to the annual party which bene
fits needy families in Eugene.
THE OREGON LEMON ...
to the varmints who locked all the doors at McArthur
Court Wednesday night. More than a handful of poten
tial basketball fans had their athletic fervor squelched.
- Sky’s The Limit =—
University Symphony Orchestra
Soothes Spirits, Rekindles Patriotism
_By Sam Fidman'
Are you “down” on the Uni
versity? Do administrative red
herrings detonate your ire? Is
there some disgust with small
time politics and smalltime poli
ticians—even as small as col
lege level? If so, we believe that
we have “discovered” a grand
release for worn out spirits, vir
tually a new “piece de resis
tence.”
Wednesday evening we had
the delightful pleasure of attend
ing a concert by the University
Symphony Orchestra, conduct
ed by Edmund A. Cykler. Guest
performers consisted of the Uni
versity String Ensemble, ably
conducted by George Houghton.
Our ear for music is probably
glued well down on the totem
pole, but we don’t believe that
should detract from the state
ment that it was one of the
most enjoyable events of the
term.
And, we felt pride in the fact
that this was a product of the
===== Campus Critic
For Backstage Crew
No Glory, No Applause
By Don Smith
All the on-stage glitter and
glamour of “Othello,” when it
opens tonight, is the result of a
lot of un-glamorous hard work
by actors—and by crews work
ing backstage.
Backstage is a fascinating
place—if you’re there as a visitor
and not as a member of the
crew. In the University Theater
the backstage area—which most
theater-goers never see—is lar
ger than the front stage part of
the theater.
And the activity that goes on,
particularly in the last frantic
week before a production opens,
is shielded from the campus by
windowless stone walls.
The actors work hard, but they
at least get a couple of bows and
a smattering of applause, and
their pictures in the paper. But
the stage Grews? They get the
backaches without taking any
bows.
During pre-opening week, the
crew’ gets to the theater at 6:30
—and leaves sometime between
1 and 4 the next morning. This
i is an eight-hour day, or more, in
anybody’s language. The crew
gets the stage set for the actors;
then after working through the
show, sticks around to wtork out
technical details. i
Maybe it’s Gerry Hettinger,
wardrobe mistress, who carries
costumes on stage after the cast
has left, to see if they meet the
approval of director Ottilie Sey
bolt.
Or chief light technician Jerry
Moothart will ask his crew—
Virginia Howard, Jane Jette,
Nancy Finch, Frank Wright, Tru
Vosburg—to hang around and
work out some of the bugs of the
•light set-up.
Stage Manager Faber De
Chaine will check curtain cues
with assistant director Kay Lind
berg; sound technician Jack
Heald may try to discover more
dramatic effects; property chief
| Dale Smith will check to see
BILL RILEY
AND HIS
ORCHESTRA
DANCING EVERY SATURDAY NIGHT
DANCING 9:30-12:30
WILLAMETTE PARK
which properties were found to
be unsatisfactory in this night’s
rehearsal.
Even farther backstage — in
the basement of Villard — cos
tume assistants Ellen Stephens,
Clare Johnson, and Harriet Oli
ver will be putting away the cos
tumes for the night, and making
notes about the work to be done
before the opening.
Assistant technical director
Harry Bidlake may confer with
technical director Bill Schlosser
over the impossibility of getting
everything done in time; and
some of the construction crew—
Avis Lange, Jo Tallman, Beverly
Gratton, Donna Knoll, Wes Rob
inson—-are likely to agree.
So, along about two or three in
the morning, the crew members
call it quits and “good night”
when they actually should be
saying “good morning.”
But they save that last greet
ing so they’ll have something to
say when they come back to work
in five or six hours and start the
day’s work. For, naturally, all
good crew members give all their
free time during the morning and
afternoon to the theater, when
they don’t have the actors clut
tering up the stage.
University of Oregon. We had
a feeling that this was truly a
part of the University family,
not something set apart, or pur
chased.
The orchestra, a magnificent
72 pieces strong, featured among
its selections Symphony No. 5,
“From the New World,” by An
tonin Dvorak. Upon noticing
this information on the program,
we suspected a meloncholy vio
lin extravaganza that would in
duce slumber even more efficient
ly than luke warm Ovaltine.
Instead, the orchestra, loosing
some precision thunder in places,
played as an American piece of
music as Dippermouth Blues by
Jose Manana and his Cotton
mouth Five.
Music is a tremendous emo
tion rippler. Dvorak’s music
so American that it momentarily
reminded us of one of those lazy,
hot summer days back home,
when we were young enough to
bounce an old tennis ball off the
side of the house and appre
ciate the wonderful aroma of a
good supper being cooked.
It sort of made the listener
think of the America that exists
down at its own roots—not of
the over-rich whose lack of both
humiliation and simplicity is a
shame to behold, but the real
folks who make the heart of
America tick. And, thinking of
the latter, it rekindles that spark
of patriotism that lets you think
of the dreadful possibilities of
untamed communist aggression;
but, that spark does not leave
you afraid of that aggression.
It builds up a fierce flame
that is so intense, you feel that
it is honestly worthwhile to
fight, and possibly die, for your
nation—because you cherish the
many good things that it em
bodies, and are big enough to
ignore that shirking, money-eag
er element that doesn’t really
belong here. But, even the good
earth has its worms.
The Second Cup
The world is my country, all
mankind are my brethren, and to
do good is my religion.—Paine.
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