Page 2/The Battalion/Wednesday, December 14, 1983
Aggie spirit still alive
by Mickey Addison
(Author’s note: Texas A&M is steeped in
traditions, some that are easily 100 years
old. Every once in a while, someone chal
lenges these traditions as unpractical or
ridiculous. I th inly believe that traditions
are the most important part of life at
A&M. Without them, we would be just
another university. Tradition is what
makes Aggies special, and that is what
this story is about).
Late in the fall semester, before bon
fire, a freshman lay in his bunk staring at
the ceiling. Homework was finished, and
taps had been played, so there was no
thing left to do except go to sleep.
Now this cadet was no ordinary cadet.
He was unhappy. He had begun to think
about all the pressures that had been
looking him in the face since Freshman
Orientation Week, and fish Jones was
ready to quit.
The more he thought, the more ready
to quit he became. At first it w'as only the
Corps, then studies in general, then he
uttered the words that make all Aggies’
hearts stop in their chests, “I hate A&M.”
No sooner had the words escaped his
mouth than a knock came at his door.
Jones looked around to see if his room
mate had heard, but he was fast asleep
(actually, he always was). Then, with a
creak, the door swung slowly open, re
vealing a uniformed figure in a campaign
hat. The hallway was shadowy and dimly
lit, but Jones could see enough to realize
that this was not one of his upperclass
men. Silently a black dog paced back and
forth behind the figure. The man step
ped into the room: spurs clinked on his
senior boots. Jones sat there in amaze
ment, not knowing what to say or do.
“Howdy,” thundered the Spirit. “I’m
the Spirit of Aggieland, and it has come
to my attention that you possess an in
tense dislike for me. Reveille and I have
come to set you straight. C’mon.”
Fish Jones had no alternative but to
follow.
The detail marched rapidly over to
Old Main. There, in all her glory, she
stood, with students busily burning the
midnight oil.
“Think these cadets don’t know me?”
asked the Spirit. “Not likely. Look
around you, boy. Feel me in your gut.
Can you feel me, boy?”
Jones shook his head sadly. “No, sir.”
“Well then, let’s go to a football game.
I’ve got a particular one in mind.”
Reveille barked in satisfaction. The
date was January 1, 1922. A lone player
stood on the sidelines next to the coach.
“Y’know who that man is, Jones?”
“No, sir,” came the reply.
“That’s E. King Gill, the first Twelfth
Man.”
Reveille barked excitedly.
“Gill came out of the stands because I
called him,” the Spirit continued. “Would
you do that to help that Fightin’ Texas
Aggie Football Team?”
“Yes, sir, I, I, think so —”
“You think so!” bellowed the Spirit.
“You shouldn’t have to think about it!”
The scene blurred and refocused on
December 7, 1941. Pearl Harbor.
“Look there, boy. Do you see that man
over there in the water? He died to pro
tect you, to protect me; he was proud of
who he was, a Fightin’ Texas Aggie! He
didn’t think about sacrifice, did he?”
moving as if in a dream world. 'Then
Jones realized where he was.
The 87-foot bonfire lit up the night
sky like the world’s biggest torch. Aggies
rejoiced in the burning of it, whooping
and yelling to their hearts’ content.
Weeks of hard labor were materializing
in front of them. The Spirit touched
Jones’ shoulder and pointed, saying,
“That’s me, boy! That’s the Spirit of
Aggieland! How do you feel about me
now?”
reader's
forum
The Bonfire light illuminated the
Spirit for the first time and Jones saw him
completely. His old, faded, wool-green
uniform and dusty boots stood in stark
contrast to his polished brass. On his
chest rode an impressive display of cam
paign ribbons, representing battles from
Belleau Wood to Khe Sahn. Any place
Aggies had fought was represented on
the Spirit’s chest.
The scene blurred again to become a
list of names: J.V. Wilson, Marvin H.
Mimms, Richard J. Dunn, Eli L. Whitney,
Horace Garswell, Richard Coke, Earl
Rudder, Joe Routt, Charlie Krueger.
“All these men were Aggies, true to
their colors. Can you feel me now, boy?
Can you feel what they felt?”
“Yes, sir, I can,” Jones answered. The
Spirit’s eyes lit up.
“Two more stops to make, boy. Follow
me.”
Jones was transported again to the
Academic Building, where, under the
watchful eyes of Lawrence Sullivan Ross,
Silver Taps echoed across a darkened
campus. The entire student body stood at
attention, silently. Muted tears rolled
down the cheeks of his friends.
“Why are they crying?” asked Jones.
“Because we’ve lost an Aggie, boy,” the
Spirit replied softly. “Our number is
diminished by one. Haven’t you learned
anything yet?”
The Spirit paused, then whispered,
“We’ve got one last stop to make: Bon
fire!”
The world exploded. Jones’ senses
were shattered by an intense, white-hot
fireball. Sight was impossible against the
blinding glare. A deafening roar
assaulted his hearing.
Slowly, Jones recovered conscious
ness. His senses refocused carefully on
his surroundings. Now, through the
blinding glare, he could see silhouettes
Proudly sitting next to the Spirit, Re
veille bathed in the brilliance of the bon
fire. Head held high, as if at attention,
she stared squarely into Jones’ eyes. Deep
black, her eyes reflected the extent of her
pride.
But it was the Spirit’s eyes that Jones
would remember for as long as he lived.
They burned fathomlessly, unquench-
ably maroon.
“Time for you to get some sleep, boy. I
think you understand now.”
Jones did not hear him, because now
the tears were rolling uncontrollably
down his cheeks.
When Jones awoke, his pillow was
tear-stained and soaked. Had it been a
dream? Yes, it had been, but...
Jones glanced at the floor. On it were
the dusty footprints and pawprints of his
midnight visitors. On the door handle
hung a dusty campaign hat. It had once
been a dark greenish-brown, but time
had weathered it to a faded maroon.
Editor’s note: Michael Addison is a fresh
man computer science major in Squad
ron 16. This story is not intended to spark
more controversy over traditions. In
stead, in the spirit of Christmas, it is to
remind us how Texas A&M began, what
it stood for, and where it’s going now.
He also
ient Rea|
vade G
imports h
S. Marii
Gramn
sU.S.Se
th citizei
Brazos
tions
ions o
Gramn
for tf
'85, and
Hen to i
Hr ideas
Speakin
m sa
a moi
pro
iportant
s finally
The ave
thayear
a d their
eased by
Jtion rati
Letters:
Critical letter
called ‘irrational’
I am addressing this comment to Jim
Harris, who disagreed with Dave Scott’s
contention that Aggie tradition may have
hurt the Aggies in the t.u. game.
Although I do not necessarily agree with
all of Mr. Scott’s statements, I believe his
opinion gains credibility when those who
disagree with him write narrow-minded,
irrational responses.
Editor:
It can often be interesting and thought
provoking to read the opinions of those
who disagree with statements offered in
The Battalion. However, when construc
tive criticism is forgotten and personal
attacks replace rational objections, a dis
senter simply discredits his view and
appears ridiculous.
I fail to see what Mr. Scott’s view has to
do with him being “fond of’ Moscow, as
Mr. Harris assumes. I also fail to see why
his opinion merits an assault with an ax
handle or being run over on Highway 6
by Mr. Harris. Statements such as “you
are no doubt one of those lazy bums” who
only who only know how to “bitch and
complain and make excuses” only suc
ceed in making Mr. Harris’ statements
appear more absurd.
Although the issue of what constitutes
a “good Ag” is a topic that has been
beaten to death this semester, I would
like to suggest that tolerance of other’s
opinions and open-mindedness are qual
ities more of us should strive for. In my
attempt to do this, I would like to suggest
to Mr. Harris that while he is certainly
entitled to his opinion, he should consid
er the nature of his objections when he
presents them to others.
Susan Franklin ’87
The Battalion
USPS 045 360
Memtvr of
Texas Press Association
Southwest journalism Conference
Editor Rebeca Zimmermann
Managing Editor John Wagner
City Editor Patrice Koranek
Assistant City Editors Kathleen Hart,
Stephanie Ross
News Editor Tracey Taylor
Assistant News Editors Susan Talbot,
Wanda Winkler
Editorial Page Editor . . . . ; Kathy
Wiesepape
Sports Editor Bonn Friedman
Assistant Sports Editor Bill Robinson
Entertainment Editor Shelley Hoekstra
Assistant Entertainment Editor Angel
Stokes
Photo Editor John Makely
Staff Writers Robin Black, Brigid
Brockman, Bob Caster,
Ronnie Crocker, Bonnie
Langford, Christine Mallon,
Kay Mallet, Sarah Oates,
Michelle Powe, Lauri Reese,
Dave Scott, Kelley Smith,
Karen Wallace
Photographers Michael Davis,
Bill Hughes, Katherine Hurt,
Eric Lee, Dean Saito
Cartoonists Paul Dirmeyer,
Scott McCullar
Editorial Policy
The Battalion is a non-profit, self-supporting news-
I paper operated as a community service to Texas A&M
University and Bryan-College Station. Opinions ex-
I pressed in The Battalion are those of the editor or the
■ author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of
Texas A&M University administrators or faculty mem
bers, or of the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper
for students in reporting, editing and photography clas
ses within the Department of Communications.
Questions or comments concerning any editorial mat
ter should be directed to the editor.
Letters Policy
Letters to the Editor should not exceed 300 words in
length, and are subject to being cut if they are longer.
The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for
style and length, but will make every effort to maintain
the author’s intent. Each letter must also be signed and
show the address and telephone number of the writer.
Columns and guest editorials also are welcome, and
are not subject to the same length constraints as letters.
Address all inquiries and correspondence to: Editor,
The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M Uni
versity, College Station, TX 77843, or phone (409) 845-
2611.
The Battalion is published Monday through Friday
during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holi
day and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are
$16.75 per semester, $33.25 per school year and $35 per
full year. Advertising rates furnished on request.
Our address: The Battalion, 216 Reed McDonald
Building, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX
77843.
United Press International is entitled exclusively to
the use for reproduction of all news dispatches credited
to it. Rights of reproduction of all other matter herein
reserved.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX
77843.
‘Good Ag’ letter
full of cliches
express it, but for God’s sake, at least
legitimize it by using your own words.
You really have this thing about vio
lence, don’t you? “Warm your backside
with an ax handle” and something about
running over Dave Scott on Highway 6.
You’re an aggressive guy, Jim. I mean,
why don’t you and Preston Abbott form a
posse and just shoot the bastard?
It’s really a shame, because I’ve met
some great people here who have become
very dear friends of mine, but there are
simply too many Cro-Magnons like you
here for me to stand. Highway 6 does run
both ways and at the end of this semester,
I’m going to “get the hell outta A&M.”
Michael Barry ’86
Editor:
‘World class’
has no meaning
I had almost forgotten why I was so
dissatisfied with A&M earlier this semes
ter, but thanks to that “hardcore redneck,
ever livin’, ever lovin’, Rock the good Ag,
beat the hell outta t. u. and two percen
ters” Texas Aggie fan, it has all been
brought back to me with striking clarity.
I’m speaking of course of that “right-
wing conservative farm boy who drives a
truck, drinks beer, and listens to George
Strait and Charlie Pride,” Jim Harris.
Take a bow, Jim. You’ve managed to in
corporate just about every Aggie-ism into
the text of one letter. Truly amazing!
What is this anyway? The A&M cliche
festival?
Editor:
I might bring to your attention that
you left out of your self-description terms
like “narrow-minded yahoo with the
ideological depth of Soldier of Fortune
magazine.” I realize that I’m making a
rather generalized judgment based on a
limited knowledge of your actual charac
ter, but hey, if you did the same to Dave
Scott, why can’t I?
The fact that I disagree with virtually
everything you said is beside the point.
What I really object to was the way you
and a lot of other people state your opin
ions in The Battalion. It sounded like you
used the Aggie Lexicon the way most
people use a thesaurus. What are you
trying to do, broadcast your ignorance
and complete lack of originality? You’re
entitled to your opinion and the right to
This semester we have added yet
another trite phrase to the A&M vocabul
ary. Now, joining the ranks of such past
favorites as “two percenter,” “good Ag,”
“Highway 6 runs both ways” and “keep
off the MSC grass,” we have the omnipre
sent “world class.”
In recent weeks we have read letters to
the editor defining “world class” as:
doing more research, doing more
teaching, having a winning football team,
having a bell tower, allowing religious
speakers on campus/restricting religious
speakers on campus, giving finals to gra
duating seniors, exempting graduating
seniors from finals...
In short, the term “world class” de
scribes anything the speaker likes. Any
thing the speaker dislikes is definitely
non-“world class.”
Next time you hear someone say the
words “world class,” listen to what they
are really saying. If it is a student, just
replace the words with “good bull” and
you’ll retain the full meaning. If it is an
administrator, remember that anytime
someone needs to coin a buzzword to jus
tify a course of action, the person is prob
ably afraid that the action cannot stand
on its own merit.
Undergraduates need to start feeling a
little chill down their backs every time
someone in the administration uses those
high-sounding words.
Chip Heath ’85
Driving,
drinking
don’t mix
aid.
Let’s add a line to the Aggie codf
He sail
xA office
18.5 per
|()n rate is
Gramm
filing f r ,
"three yi
honor that deals with lying andslti ^ c h wei
and such.
It should say: Aggies do not drint
ndinc
With th
) Han
drive nor do they tolerate those wilt ^ £
The Christmas break is tradition^ ’ ore
time for heavy drinking. LastNewl
Eve one area resident had a few di
too many and killed a former ft
A&M student in a car accidentDj
the spring semester a drunk driven
through a red light and killed thepJ®
of a Texas A&M student as I
(
crossing a street.
People need to realize a
automobiles do not mix.
Party hosts need to accept respow
ity for their guests’ drinking. Then
are beginning to examine theliahi b
hosts for their guests who drill! t
drive. And hosts should set a ptff
example and drink in moderation |
Hosts can take responsibility"^ |
putting a damper on holiday! k
Time is a factor in reducing theefft 1 E
alcohol, so before the party ends,>1 r
quor cabinet should be closed. Tit* E
perfect time for guests to enjo' 1 E
others’ company — and for theeff* 1 *8
too much drinking to partiallywf 21 h
I f a guest drinks too much,cal 1 |
have guests car-pool or'invite tW §
spend the night at your home. L
“About one person per monthis' g
in Brazos County due to drunkdri* |
says Dr. Kirk Brown, president 1 '
Bra zos Valley Chapter of Mo 1 ®
Against Drunk Driving, “and th 2 '
centage goes up during the ^
season.”
So have a merry but safe hoi# R
son. If and when you do drink,
drink in moderation. And whet
friends drink too much, pleased
courage to stop them fromdrivinf
Battalion Editorial Staff does not"'
spend another Tuesday night
Taps.
The Battalion Editorial^