Daily
EMERALD
The Oregon Daily Emerald is published daily five days a week during the sehool year
except examination and vacation periods, by the Student Publications Hoard of the Timer
sity of Oregon. Entered as second class matter at the post office, Eugene, Oregon Suli
scription rates: $5 per school year; $’ a term.
Opinions expressedon the editorial page are those of the writer and do not pretend to
represent the opinions of the ASUO or of the l niversity. Unsigned editorials are written
by the editor; initialed editorials by the associate editors.
JOE GARDNER, Editor JEAN SANDINE, Rusiness Manager
PAl'L KEEFE. Managing Editor DONNA RTNHERG, Advertising Manager
JERRY HARRELL, News Editor GORDON RICE, Sports Editor
__DICK LEW’ IS, JACKIE WARDEEl., Associate Edtiors
v^niei ucsk realtor: 2>ally Kyan
Chief Makeup Editor: Sam Yahey
Feature Editor: Dorothy Her
Ass’t. Managing Editor: Anne Ritchey
Ass’t. News Editors: Mary Alice Allen,
Anne Hill, Bob Robinson
Office Manager: Bill Mainwaring
Nat’I. Adv. Mgr.: Mary Salazar
Circulation Mgr.: Rick Hayden
Classified Adv.: Helen R. Johnson
Ass’t. Sports Editor: Buzz Nelson
The Green Years
Freshman year at Oregon. How many of older and wearier
upperclassmen wouldn’t change places with you of Oregon’s
new freshman class for a chance to relive those golden days?
The strange, almost sick feeling of being away from home
for the first time; the excited whirl of registration week; the
thrill of meeting new friends; the confusion of getting ac
quainted with this wonderful new world—all are a part of
the freshman year. But most of all, the freshman year signi
fies for you of the freshman class a coming-of-age, the be
ginning of maturity. You are entering the green years of your
life- .
Freshman year at Oregon. And what you are when you
have completed this year at Oregon, you will be for the
rest of your college career, and for the rest of your life.
Treasure this year at Oregon; use each day sparingly. For
most of you this venture into college life is being made at
the great sacrifice of your parents, who may have saved
for years, for their entire lifetime maybe, that you can have
the opportunity they did not.
Set your sights high, you of the freshman class. Hard work,
perseverance and the will to achieve can win for you what
ever goals you may have in mind. Mortar Board or first string
varsity, Phi Beta Kappa or rally squad can be within your
reach—if you will it and if you work for it.
Class of 1958 is the impressive title attached to you of the
incoming freshman class. Football player from Portland, sum
mer waitress from Bend, valedictorian from Astoria or just
plain Jane Jones from Klamath Falls: that’s you, the class of
1958. Oh, you’re not much of a class now, not much but an
unorganized and somewhat bewildered mass of high school
graduates thrown together in a common environment.
Soon you really will be the class of 1958, a large and vital
segment of the University of Oregon. Great things will be
expected of your class. Carrying on three-quarters of a
century of Oregon traditions is the responsibility placed
on your shoulders. Thousands of alumni, old students and
faculty members are looking at you critically to find in you
the ingredients which help make the University great
Freshman year at Oregon. It can open doors to new and
undreamed vistas on the academic horizon. It can add to your
personality qualities which will insure success in your future
life. Or it can turn you into the profligate the University will
be ashamed to remember.
This is the beginning of the best years of your life, you of
the freshman class. These are your green years. Use them
well.
Higdon: A Great Loss
The death this summer of Doyle Higdon, who would have
been a junior at Oregon this fall, was a great blow to the
University. For those of us who knew Doyle the news came
as a great shock.
Doyle, a guard on Oregon’s football team, figured prom
inently in the plans of Coach Len Casanova for the 1954
grid season. Casanova said he was “one of our fastest
guards.” Although Doyle played little football last year
because of a knee injury, he won a letter last spring as a
javelin thrower on the track team.
Even if Doyle had been an outstanding athlete alone, his
death would have been a great loss to the University. But he
was more than a sportsman. He was a promising scholar—
the serious-minded type of student the University is proud
to find in its ranks. A consistent honor roll student, Doyle
completed his sophomore year with a 3.7 grade point average.
The record Doyle built up in two years of study and ath
letics at Oregon is truly impressive. But there was even more
to his story that makes the loss to the University so ir
reparable. He was one of the outstanding student leaders of
his class.
A member of Skull and Dagger last year, Doyle was
tapped for membership in Druids, junior men’s honorary,
during Junior Weekend spring term. He had served on
the ASUO senate for one year and was a candidate for
the AGS nomination for junior class president.
Thus the death of Doyle Higdon this summer was a triple
tragedy for the University of Oregon. We have lost a fine
athlete, an outstanding campus leader and an exceptional
student.
-A DAY AT THE Z©@
Freshman Lady Is Confused
by Bob Funk
“Kid,” said the white-sweat
ered Glomma, staggering up the
dormitory steps with a suitcase,
“you'll really like Oregon. I can
remember thinking to myself,
see I was in this meditative
mood, I was thinking, gee Glur
pia, Oregon’s so strange, you
know strange, Uiat you prob
ably won’t like It, but then I
met Ed.”.
“Ed?” the freshman lady
asked politely. The freshman
lady was trying to avoid being
hit by the suitcase, which
Glurpia was maneuvering up
the stairs with a sort of hip
pendulum action.
“Yeah. That’s the boy I’m
pinned to. See, I was going with
this Harold, but then Ed, it
was really a scream, I mean
I was going with this Harold,
and then Ed—”
“I can 'imagine just how
you felt,” the freshman lady
said nervously. They had
reached the second floor, but
’there was more to go. The
freshman had suggested the
elevator, but the Glomma had
insisted on a sort of The
Ardent Glomma Shuns the
Elevator policy.
“It isn’t that the elevator
wouldn’t really be easier, kid.
and I mean naturally you'll
want to use it when you live
here, I mean you develop such
large ankles if you use the
stairs, but the reason I’m using
the stairs see is that the Ore
gana photographer takes a pic
ture of a Glomma every year
taking a suitcase up the stairs."
By this time Glurpia was quite
purple with the strain of it all,
and the freshman lady had both
shins barked by the suitcase
and a rather nasty dent in one
knee.
“Last year, see, this girl in
the House, she was a Glomma
and she got her picture in the
Oregana carrying a suitcase up
the stairs. Well, we had this
meeting last night, and the ac
tivity chairman, she said, now
we got this real nice publicity
last year, and let's keep it in
the House.”
“I can see what you mean,”
said the freshman.
“Ed’s in a House too,” said
Glurpia, “I can never remem
ber the name you know they
all have these cute foreign
names, anyway, I think it's
really the most—well, the
cutest house on campus.”
They had reached the fifth
noor, gloriously panting, Giur
pia being spectacularly purple.
After several dry runs they
found the freshman lady's room,
which was, Glurpia intimated,
nice, but nothing like living at
the House. The room had a per
fectly lovely view of the tar
roof of the dormitory dining
hall. Glurpia left, presumably
keeping an eye peeled for the
Oregana photographer and
Keeping it in the House. For a
moment the freshman lady was
alone. It was the last time that
was to happen ever.
“Eh eh eh,’’ gurgled someone
in the doorway. It was the fifth
floor counselor (columnists
note: at the time this was writ
ten I did not know who the
fifth-floor-counselor of Carson
Hall was; she is probably a
very nice lady, and the person
portrayed here is intended to
be entirely hypothetical. Of
course, if the fifth-floor-coun
selor is sort of an old sorehead,
I’m the first to plunge the dag
ger. You can’t lose in this news
paper game; crazy, man), a
former closet member of a na
tional sorority, more locally
known as The House. “I'm your
understanding and sympathetic
counselor,” she said. “Welcome
to Oregon and the fifth floor
and if I can help you with your
study program please call on me
or for any other problems no
drinking here you know Carson
is big but we’re all one happy
family I see you’re getting
settled.”
“Well, maybe you could ans
wer a question I happen to
have—”
“Listen, baby,” the counselor
rasped, grinding her teeth to
gather, "you're in the big-time
now, you're not at home, none
of this mother-what-shall-I-do
stuff around hare. You got a
problem, you don't bother me,
see; I got problems, you got
problems, all Mrs. Wickham's
girls got problems. You try
your adviser, see, or go to
church, or just go to hell, but
none of this whining around to
the counselor and I kid you not
(she had been to that show, of
course).
••I just—”
“(live you freshmen un Inch
and you take a mile," snarled
the counselor, glaring. And
then she unsullied a lin'd If
admirably professional smile.
"Remember, I’m your conn
selor and will help you at any
tilin' welcome to Oregon ami
I’ve been ho very happy to
have met you.” Anil then she,
too, wan gone, ami several
other persons came In looking
for tin* elevator ami tho laun
dry room and thi* ladles’ wind
box and tin* Office of Studi-nt
Affalra.
The freshman lady opened
her Huitcaao and climbed in. To
hell with what the psychiatrist
might say about this kind of
behavior, she thought, it's much
better in here. But even as she
closed her Samsonite retreat
around her, she could hear the
counselor across the hall say
ing Welcome, welcome, to O
RKE-GONK.
Our Freshmen?
“I think the trouble with mowt of our frenlimeu In that the high
Hchoola juWt aWn't tenetiing them to read.”
Wheels who get around
wear an ARROW...Button-Down
It’s the one shirt that says—“You’re really
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Arrow shirts, you’ll get “button-down cor
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his individuality. $4.50 in white broadcloth;
white oxford, $5.00—same price in color!
SUSSEX B.D.
DOVER
.HITT
JiflJlOWSHIRTS & TIES
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