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The Charlotte News
Wednesday, June 3, 1959
THREE EDITORIALS
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Site Ed. Note: The front page reports from Geneva that the Western foreign ministers this date had reportedly decided to call for an early showdown with Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko in secret talks regarding the Berlin crisis. Secretary of State Christian Herter and the foreign ministers of Britain, France and West Germany agreed at a midday strategy meeting, according to officials, that Mr. Gromyko ought be told that the time had come for the Soviet Union to set forth new, constructive proposals for a solution. Mr. Gromyko's reaction to the challenge, it was hoped, would shortly disclose whether the German meeting had any chance of success in easing East-West tensions regarding Berlin and clearing the way for a summit conference later in the summer. The Western ministers had met for an hour at U.S. headquarters and concluded the strategy session a little more than two hours before another round of secret talks with Mr. Gromyko was set to start at Mr. Herter's villa. An American spokesman said "the situation with regard to Berlin was not appreciably advanced" by Mr. Gromyko's statement to the Big Four conference on Tuesday. But British and French diplomats said that Mr. Gromyko's speech was being studied with extreme care because it contained intimations that the Kremlin might be interested in finding a way out of the Berlin deadlock. British and French sources thought that the ensuing 48 hours of the conference, presently in its fourth week, could prove to be the most critical of the conference, with a Berlin deal and a summit meeting dependent on the outcome. British and French experts cited four points in Mr. Gromyko's speech as being possibly significant. First, the Soviet Union, according to Mr. Gromyko, was not asking the U.S., Britain and France to grant diplomatic recognition to East Germany's Communist government, something which the Western Allies had adamantly refused to do. Second, the Soviet Union did not question the Western powers' legal right to have troops in West Berlin, although it considered the occupation of the city to be outdated, Mr. Gromyko insisting that some new arrangement had to be made for West Berlin. Third, although he had again called for demilitarization of West Berlin under international guarantees, he said that his government would agree to Western troops remaining in Berlin, provided that their number was limited and that the Soviet troops also were admitted. Finally, Mr. Gromyko had urged the Western Big Three to join Russia in trying to "bring our positions closer together."
The President stated at his press conference this date, his first since May 13, that there had been no detectable progress in the Geneva talks which would justify a summit conference. He suggested that the Soviet Union ought make, for example, a clear commitment that Western rights in Berlin would not be impeded pending reunification of Germany. He said that there also were other good faith approaches which the Soviets could take, adding that some recent statements by Premier Nikita Khrushchev had not been calculated to ease East-West tensions. On other topics, he said that the Administration had not decided yet whether to ask Congress for an increase in the interest rate ceiling on Government bonds, confirming that he had discussed that matter, as well as the need to raise the national debt ceiling, with Congressional leaders earlier in the week. He said that it would be tragic if an issue of anti-Semitism were seriously raised in the Senate fight over confirmation of Admiral Lewis Strauss as secretary of commerce. The Admiral was a Jew. The President had been asked for comment on what a reporter had referred to as a statement made by Republicans that the anti-Semitism issue already had been injected into the controversy. The President replied that he was not aware that such an issue had been raised and then remarked that it would be tragic if it were. Making it clear that he continued to support Admiral Strauss's nomination, he said that he had no doubt that the Admiral could work effectively with Congress if confirmed. Regarding steel, the President labeled as completely untrue an assertion by John L. Lewis, head of the United Mine Workers, that the President had sided with management and against the workers in the steel wage talks. The President said he had never interfered in such labor-management negotiations, although he had urged repeatedly that both sides in the steel dispute guard against any new inflationary spiral. Regarding labor legislation, he said that he hoped that Congress would not adjourn without passing such a bill, making the statement when a reporter remarked that both Mr. Lewis and Teamsters president Jimmy Hoffa had come out against enactment of any new legislation. Regarding missiles, he said that Secretary of Defense Neil McElroy was now conducting an exhaustive study which would be ready in about ten days. The main dispute was between the Air Force, championing its Bomarc missile, and the Army, promoting its Nike-Hercules.
In Galveston, Tex., it was reported that Louisiana Governor Earl Long, who had entered a hospital because of physical and mental exhaustion the prior weekend, was not being violent but was just "mad as hell" and would recover completely within 2 to 3 months, according to attending physicians. That account had come exclusively to the Associated Press from the physicians who refused to be quoted by name. The Governor, 63, according to the sources, was being cooperative, was "very clear in his thinking and speaking, and is not violent at all." They said that all they were trying to do at present was to promote his physical health, shattered by his sleepless nights and driving determination. The Governor had flown to Galveston on Saturday, and his wife the previous day had asked a probate court for his protective custody in the psychiatric clinic for his own protection. Her application to the judge claimed that her husband was sick mentally and physically, and the judge had signed the order. At present, Governor Long had nearly a year left in his current four-year third term and his friend and colleague, Lt. Governor Lethar Frazar, was acting Governor by virtue of the Governor's absence from the state. The physicians at the privately run psychiatric clinic said that the Governor had not resisted any questioning, "in fact, he has been talking very freely, talking as he normally would. He is a sick man, but actually we do not know the cause of this man's troubles. We do feel he has an excellent chance for a complete recovery." They added that the only handicap they had was that the Governor did not believe he was a sick man and was "just as mad as hell" that he was in the hospital. The doctor said that at times he had resisted simple medical efforts such as blood tests, sedatives, vitamins and other drugs designed to build up a person physically. The doctors added, "We're all tremendously interested in this man, but he simply is not resigned to being here."
In Fort Madison, Ia., four long-term prisoners had held a guard in a cellblock captive at knife point and had sawn their way out of the Iowa State Penitentiary early this date. One of the four was serving a life sentence for killing a policeman. They had sawn two bars from a window located in an outside cell of the prison after having sawn their way from their individual cells. The escape came in a cell house which housed about 400 prisoners and the four who had escaped had to drop less than ten feet to the ground after cutting the opening in the window. The warden identified the four, ranging in age from 23 to 38. The night cell house captain said that he had heard a noise on a walkway extending outside the cells and had seen one of the men crawling along, and so pushed the alarm button. Almost simultaneously with the escape of that prisoner from his cell on the second tier, another prisoner got out of his cell in a different part of the cellblock and put a knife to the throat of a guard. Then the other two men came out of their cells, which also were widely separated from those of the other two. The warden said that each man had sawn two bars from their cells to get out onto the walkway. It was not immediately known where they had obtained the saws. Two of the men held a long dagger on the guard and forced him to call the deputy outside the cellblock and say he had rubbed against the alarm button accidentally and that everything was all right.
In Taylorsville, N.C., it was reported that a usually quiet 38-year old truck driver was being held on an open charge this date in connection with the slaying of the sheriff the previous day. The shooting apparently had stemmed from a family feud, which had raged for several months without attracting much attention, even from close neighbors. A next-door neighbor to the accused slayer said that he had not been aware of any unusual trouble between the man and his father and stepmother, calling them "good neighbors". The previous day, however, the man's father had come to the neighbor's home and told him that he was having trouble with his son and used the neighbor's phone to call the sheriff, starting a chain of events which ended in the sheriff's death and the arrest of the son. The sheriff and his deputy had been starting upstairs to talk to the man when the sheriff was hit in the back by a .22-caliber bullet. The father had complained that his son was throwing rocks at the house and asked the sheriff to talk to him and try to straighten him out. After the shooting, the man refused at first to come out of the house. Police prepared to battle their way in if necessary. But after a short time, the man came out in response to the calls of his neighbor, putting up no resistance as officers whisked him first to the local jail, then to a jail out of reach of any possible mob violence. No violence had developed. People appeared dumbfounded when they heard of the sheriff's death, according to the coroner, who was acting sheriff. The sheriff had been extremely popular and the father of five children, a successful farmer and one-time sawmill operator, having been elected to his third term the previous fall by the largest majority in Alexander County history. The accused killer was described as "quiet, but a little odd". Apparently any tendencies toward violence were known only to his family. In the family argument, he reportedly had thrown dishes and rocks at his father. He had worked for some time as an independent trucker, primarily hauling produce. But he had been unemployed for the previous few months after his truck had been repossessed. The deputy sheriff was with the sheriff and said that they did not see the man with the gun before the shot was fired. The officers had left their weapons in their car. The sheriff had died before reaching the hospital. It was the second instance in modern times of a law enforcement officer being shot in Taylorsville, the police chief having been slain 15 years earlier by a 15-year old Newton youth in the lobby of a hotel in the town.
Tornadoes had done some heavy property damage in the Carolinas the previous day but had taken no lives. In Cumberland and Columbus Counties in North Carolina and Horry County in South Carolina, twisters had struck, but had hit only farming areas and no communities as they swept across the lower part of North Carolina and upper South Carolina.
Julian Scheer of The News
reports that singer Jerry Lee Lewis had played a date in Virginia the
previous night and that while he sang, danced, jumped and wiggled,
Charlotte Coliseum-Auditorium manager Paul Buck and City Council
member and promoter Jim Whittington were busy looking for a piano for
Mr. Lewis's show in Charlotte on Wednesday night. Mr. Whittington had
finally won, but had to make some promises to Mr. Buck. The previous
August, Mr. Lewis had played in Charlotte as part of another rock 'n'
roll show and during his act, he leaped onto the piano belonging to
the Coliseum-Auditorium Authority and had done a jig. Mr. Buck,
seeing that performance, rushed to the stage in a rage, yelling, "Get
that man off my piano!" Inspection of the piano later revealed
no real damage but Mr. Buck said that it was "just the chance
you take, the idea of it all. I just don't want that guy jumping up
on my piano." Mr. Whittington had finally persuaded Mr. Buck
that Mr. Lewis would handle the piano with loving care this night,
that he had talked to Mr. Lewis and that just in case he might cross
him, he would inspect the singer's shoes to make certain they had
soft soles. Mr. Buck said, "He had better!" Mr. Whittington
promised. Mr. Buck added, "Pianos aren't made to dance on."
He'll play some love ballads and gospel spirituals
In the second of a series of articles on D-Day, June 6, 1944, General J. Lawton Collins relates of his experience leading 7th Corps in the capture of Normandy's Utah Beach, the freeing of Cherbourg, breaking the German crust at St. Lo, and being the first to capture a major German city, Aachen. "The darkness was almost pitch black off the coast of France when the anchor chain of our command ship, the Bayfield, rattled out on D-Day 15 years ago. Except for the fact that we were 12 miles offshore, its sudden clanking might have alerted the German defenders whose radar had failed to pick up the approach of the vast armada of ships and planes which was poised to attack the east coast of the Cherbourg peninsula." As Rear Admiral Don Moon, the naval commander of Task Force Utah, and he had looked out from the bridge of the Bayfield, nothing could be seen of the hundreds of transports, LST's, and smaller landing craft and accompanying naval escorts which they knew were all around them. They had been underway from the southern ports of England for nearly 24 hours, moving slowly but steadily through six-foot waves under lowering clouds driven by winds up to 20 knots. So bad had been the weather that the responsible German Admiral Francke had no patrol boats in the English Channel. The weather had proved to act as a screen for the invasion, but could have been disastrous if it had worsened. It had already postponed the invasion by a day and had threatened the final departure of the expedition. As he had written to his wife en route to France on the early evening of June 5, 1944: "First of all, it is a relief to be off at last. After months of rehearsals and feverish preparation, we began loading a few days ago, only to be threatened with a long delay when the weather suddenly turned against us. In fact some of our landing craft had to be turned back after being underway several hours. Generals Bradley and Kean, Admirals Kirk, Moon and Wiltse, several Britishers and I were none too optimistic as we assembled last night [at British naval headquarters in Plymouth] for the word as to whether or not we would get underway again. It was with a mixture of relief and misgivings that we received the decision to go ahead, subject to final confirmation early this morning. For the weather was still threatening, and a great amphibious operation such as this has to have just the right conditions of wind, tide, sea and ceiling to insure the almost perfect coordination of naval, land and air forces that is essential for success." They had been greatly relieved when they emerged from the meeting to find the moon breaking through, indicating that the expedition could go ahead. The remainder of the piece is on an inside page.
On the editorial page, "Ghosts Who Come to Commencement", editorial correspondence from Chapel Hill by Edwin Yoder, indicates that those who were attending commencement the prior Monday thought wistfully of the legend inscribed on the Morehead sundial outside Morehead Planetarium—being used by the recently named Mercury astronauts to learn celestial navigation: "The sun is always shining somewhere in the world."
But for the thousands who were headed elsewhere in the state during the week, commencement day was commencement day. "If Apollo failed to move his golden chariot across the heavens, they would seek a light of another kind—from the bright tassel on a son's or daughter's mortarboard or from the satin underside of a Ph.D hood as it was slipped augustly about the shoulders of a dignitary. And then there was the random pilgrim who needed no light but recollection, who aimlessly sauntered about the brick walks with no compelling reason for being off the job for a day."
The sun had shone throughout the afternoon and by 6:30, when the band began to play in Kenan Stadium, many of those attending were in shirtsleeves, wondering at the stoic players of the band dressed in heavy blue wool.
"A commencement audience lacks the studied jocularity, the tartan blankets, the flasks, the unruly noise of a football crowd in October. Still, the little girl in starched pink just in front whispers urgently that she must have something to eat. From three rows down, the sharp aftermath of a dime cigar floats up the amphitheater. A baby squeals. 'Do you reckon we'll be here till midnight?' a voice inquires, the very moment that the solemn finery of robes appears distantly and the trumpet strikes the first note of long ceremony. Even the pomp, the pageantry, the music did not dull the nearness of cigar smoke, shirtsleeves, and hungry little girls. Certainly, nothing could be farther away than ghosts; they belonged across the pine woods among the headstones of the graveyard.
"Ghosts? They were on at least one mind, bothering at least one person, whose short figure could be picked out from the long train of deans and students and teachers. He was the speaker, Vermont Connecticut Royster. In less than 25 years from a similar commencement in Chapel Hill, this Tar Heel with ancestral roots deep in North Carolina had become one of the lords of metropolitan journalism. With his graceful editorial commentary as editor of the Wall Street Journal, he had gained a Pulitzer Prize but perhaps more significantly to him he had been invited home to commencement for a triumph."
Mr. Yoder indicates that Mr. Royster was not a man of compromise, at least on the subjects which were cordial to him. Being an editor who believed in ghosts, he proceeded to tell the largest graduating class in the University's 170 years about them. When he had been a student, he recalled, the class was not so big nor were the subjects so many. The great courses were not abstractions: Greek literature was really "Bully" Bernard, philosophy was Horace Williams, and though the Shakespeare course did not follow a prescribed routine, he thought that he had come to understand Hamlet, Falstaff and Macbeth.
Mr. Royster had graduated in 1935 and remembered the house on Franklin Street where he had grown up, the son of a Greek and Latin teacher, in a Chapel Hill which, as he had pictured it, seemed strangely antique, almost as much as the old catalog for 1860 which listed a faculty forebear, Iowa Michigan Royster, as his family members had named children by states even then.
He was not willing to be an orthodox commencement speaker who usually deplored the mess which previous generations had made of the world and exhorted the new generation to clean it up. He tended to think that if the present world was a world which "you never made", the ghosts who had made it wrought well and that the state's diploma-bearers would do well to keep it as sound tomorrow.
He said: "Chapel Hill draws people from all over the world because, as much as any university in the land, it has come to embody the spirit of the academy. [Today] it may be bigger and better. But it would be a grievous error to suppose it is better merely because it is bigger or that the values it [once] offered … have been outmoded by progress."
It was not certain that Mr. Royster's graphic evocation of old shades and the commonplace presented present times better than earlier times. Nor was it certain that the irony posed by the speech, with Mr. Royster putting his stock in the small academy of 1935, or 1860, before an audience of the large and growing University of 1959, had made itself felt. "The audience lapsed gratefully from its respectful attention as a small dog barked sharply from in front of the platform."
Mr. Yoder regards Mr. Royster's question of whether size might drive away quality as a significant one, no less applicable to every graduating class in every commencement audience in the state and nation. But no one had an answer to the inquiry and at 9 o'clock, the degrees had been awarded.
Parents and friends hurried away through the woods to their cars, a hungry daughter would be fed, an unknown voice had gotten out three hours early, the shirt-sleeved man still smoked his cigar, and the deans were down at the swimming pool giving out diplomas in almost every imaginable subject. "Probably very few of them were thinking about Mr. Royster's ghosts."
Mr. Yoder, former co-editor of The Daily Tar Heel, the student newspaper, had graduated from the University in 1956 and then spent two years as a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford, before joining the News as an editorial writer. Eventually he would become a columnist for the Washington Star, where he won a Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing in 1979, later writing editorials for the Washington Post.
"Sober Wisdom on a Touchy Subject" indicates that in an era when racial sensitivities were easily bruised on both sides of the color line, it was refreshing to receive straight talk on the subject from an unlikely source, Ebony Magazine. It had considered which was the more acceptable term, "Negro" or "colored", and the magazine had concluded: "Ethnologically inaccurate though it may be, the word Negro has official status, is legally binding. Little can be done about that. The real problem is the man called Negro. If he would spend as much time dignifying his race as he does decrying its designation, if he would quit worrying about the label and concentrate upon improving the product, the stuff inside, the name would take care of itself."
The piece regards it as wise words, applicable not only to blacks but to members of all races.
"Only in America" indicates that Charlotte's Harry Golden, editor and publisher of the Carolina Israelite, had concluded his commencement address to a predominantly Protestant graduating class at Myers Park High School the previous night with an old Irish Catholic prayer.
Presumably, it refers to the traditional old Irish blessing
A piece from the Richmond News Leader, titled "Two Cows", indicates that a gentleman in New England, with a thirst for simplicity, had sent along a homely illustration of the operations of the modern "isms", socialism, communism and capitalism.
Of socialism he had said that if one had two cows, the government would take them both and let the person milk them for a small percentage of the milk.
Of communism, he had said that if one had two cows, the government would shoot the owner and take both cows.
Of capitalism, he had said that the person with two cows would have to buy a bull.
Drew Pearson regards the fraternal conference of Communist leaders presently being held in Albania as the most significant move made in the cold war of nerves in some time, probably as important as the threats by Moscow regarding Berlin, though the two went hand in hand. He finds that what it meant was that Premier Nikita Khrushchev was ready to parcel out his large store of IRBM's to the satellite nations, including Communist China, should the U.S. set up NATO missile bases in Western Europe.
Mr. Khrushchev was spending 12 days in Albania, under most normal circumstances a very boring visit. Mr. Pearson indicates he had walked or ridden horseback over much of northern Albania and had also lived on the Montenegrin-Albanian border for almost two years. He finds it hard to understand how a man as busy and restless as Mr. Khrushchev could be occupied there for 12 days. Albania was about the size of Delaware and had only three or four movie theaters, no golf courses, and the Soviet Premier could visit every corner of it within a week.
He suggests that his reason might be bluff but Mr. Khrushchev had the power to carry out his bluff, with approximately 750 IRBM's able to fire 700 to 1,800 miles, whereas the U.S. had about 48. It meant that the missile bases which the U.S. was establishing in Italy and England could fire only about 20 missiles each and after that would be out of ammunition. In contrast, Mr. Khrushchev could take Russia's 750 IRBM's and distribute them generously between Albania, East Germany, Bulgaria and China, such that each would have considerably more missiles than the U.S. could supply to Italy and England.
That possibility was one of the factors which had prompted a book by Mr. Pearson and his associate Jack Anderson, titled U.S.A.—Second-Class Power? And it was also one reason why the present Army-Air Force dispute over missiles was so disturbing, as the country still did not not know what type of missile it wanted to build. Meanwhile, every report in the Pentagon, without exception, showed that Russia was well ahead of the U.S. in missiles and had the capacity to remain ahead. Secretary of Defense Neil McElroy had admitted that fact when he told Senators that the U.S. had no plans for catching up with Russia in the race for ICBM's.
U.S. diplomats believed that Mr. Khrushchev in the past had not been anxious to distribute Russian missiles among the satellites. Some of the satellites, among them Albania, were inclined to be trigger-happy. Other Russian partners, especially Communist China, had been nudging the Soviets for power, and missiles in their hand would increase their power. The Soviets wanted to remain supreme.
U.S. intelligence also indicated that the Soviets had been genuinely worried over what might happen should atomic weapons get into the hands of too many governments. The Chinese defense minister, Marshal Peng Teh-Huai, was presently in Albania, however, conferring with Mr. Khrushchev. Mr. Khrushchev had the power to carry out his bluff should Andrei Gromyko not get his way at the Geneva foreign ministers conference presently ongoing.
Mr. Pearson notes that missiles based in Albania would not be aimed at nearby Greece and Italy, which were too close, but rather at U.S. bases in Spain and North Africa. At Tripoli in North Africa, the U.S. Air Force had the biggest base in the world outside Dayton, O. But one missile could put it out of business.
Milton Caniff, creator of the comic strip, "Steve Canyon", presents sketches of his impressions of Berlin, as he visited the "city in crisis … a city that's still waiting for the other shoe to drop... Berlin is the symbol, the prize. The fate of the city figures prominently on the agenda in deliberations between the East and West in Geneva, Switzerland." His sketches of the "Quick View" of the city take up the bulk of the page this date.
We are not certain of the wisdom of displacing the two ordinary columns on the page, and the usual editorial cartoon, with sketches in an age when the editorial page regularly complained of too little serious reading and poor to mediocre educational quality in the schools based on insufficient available money, but there it is. It was, after all, now sum-sum-summertime and for many, too hot or too distractive with its sandy coil to read at length of heavy subjects.
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