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M.L. a Red ,, Cashion is chairman of the board of ANCO Insurance and
has been an Aggie ever since being bom on the Texas AfrM campus.
By TRICIA PARKER
Reporter
Texas A6pM is a personal tra
dition for Red Cashion and his
family — it’s a part of his life
that stretches back as far as the
initials he carved on the oak
tree across from the old hospi
tal on campus. And like the let
ters, his interest in Afc>M has
weathered and grown deeper
as time has passed.
M.L. “Red” Cashion, 53, is
chairman of the board of
ANCO Insurance. ANCO, an
insurance company with 180
employees, has branches in
Houston as well as Bryan.
“I was bom and raised on
the A&>M campus, across from
the old hospital,” he says. “My
father was general secretary of
the YMCA, which in those days
was like the MSC.”
Cashion says that when the
time came for him to be born,
the doctor told his mother she
might as well stay put instead
of walking across the street to
the hospital, so Cashion was
bom in his family home in the
center of campus.
Growing up as a “campus
brat,” Cashion says he used to
watch the Corps of Cadets
march around campus. In his
years on campus he saw many
changes.
When Casion grew up, the
next logical step was to enroll
at Texas A&>M as a student.
“I never knew there was an
other school,” he jokes.
For football games, he told
how men would go meet the
bus or train to pick up their
dates. Corps dorms would be
turned into women’s quarters
for the weekend but problems
would occur when cadets
would forget and invite two
dates for the same weekend.
“Fortunately, I was going
with the same one, the one I
married, the whole time,” he
says. “But you didn’t see any
unattached girls on campus.”
When Cashion graduated
from the University in 1953, he
worked a while and then went
into the service for two years.
“I got into the charcoal busi
ness but the charcoal business
didn’t do all that well,” he says.
The business, a charcoal
manufacturing company of
which Cashion was owner and
manager, failed in little over a
year. After that the opportunity
arose for him to get into the in
surance business.
He moved up in the com
pany, and like in all Cinderella
stories, it ended happily ever
after with Cashion chairman of
the board. But many Aggies
have comparable success sto
ries. What makes Cashion’s
special is what else he’s done
along the way.
Cashion began officiating
college football games as a
hobby while he was at Texas
A£>M. After graduation he kept
it up. Fourteen years ago he
was discovered by an NFL ref
eree scout.
The NFL hired Cashion and
he still works as a official for
several games each season.
Cashion, former president of
the Professional Football Refer
ees Association, says the best
part of the job is working with
the players.
Cashion is also dedicated to
the community and education.
His interest in the community
led him to run for city council.
“I ran for city council once,”
he says, “against the most pop
ular guy in the district. I
needed over 100 votes to win
and got 107. The other guy got
109 and that was the end of my
political career.”
But he has served the com
munity in other ways; as presi
dent of the Biyan-College Sta
tion Chamber of Commerce
and chairman of the board of
the Education Service Center.
Cashion’s family is also
rooted in Texas A&>M and
likely to stay that way. He is
married to the former Lou Bur
gess, whose grandfather had
Walton Hall named after him,
and two of his five children are
Aggies.
He still takes time to give a
little advice to Aggies who
would follow in his footsteps.
“Don’t go into the charcoal
business,” he says. \
us to be a literary tool for students
By MARY COX
StaffWriter
One word may have made
all the difference in the world
for Litmus, the new MSC spon
sored literary magazine at
Texas A6=M.
The young MSC Literary Arts
Committee, developed only
this year after going through
the proper channels of appro
val, might have forgone those
channels when a problem
came up when preparing to
publish their magazine.
The problem was an adjec
tive — some called it “obsce
ne,” others said it was 'Vul
gar,” but the author and the
committee considered it rea
sonable. In the end, the MSC
Council approved the poem
where the culprit word was
printed.
“We could have easily
slipped this one by,” Paul Stew
art, the chairman of the com
mittee, says. “But it would
have hurt us more in the long
run.”
Stewart had two opinions.
First as the committee chair
man, he says he was pleased
that the vote went through.
The count was 6-5, with one
-4-
member of the council abstain
ing.
“Because of the closeness of
the vote, I don’t think the coun
cil is condoning it, but they are
establishing a precedent that
students at Texas A<VM are in
the cultural mainstream —
creating artworks,” Stewart
says.
But as Paul Stewart he was
disappointed that the issue
ever had to come up.
Pat Wood, the president of
the MSC says, “The questiona
ble word was brought up to the
proper committee in the
proper way.
“When there are 33 commit
tees you just have to play by the
rules, but it’s very hard to en
force the rules. We have to rely
on self-enforcement. This com
mittee has shown that they are
going to play by the rules. I’m
pleased with Paul and with the
committee.
“After I read that one poem
it sparked my interest. You
know how we engineering ma
jors are — you have to explain
what the hell these poems
mean. That’s as close to
obscene as I’ll get.”
But long before there was a
question of censorship in Lit
mus there was the question of
why doesn’t A6=M have a liter
ary magazine at all.
The magazine was projected
as an ideal way Ito recruit out
standing high school students
to the university. So just like
any project wanting recogni
tion they went before the Cul
tural Study Committee. The
group, led by Stewart, ap
proached the committee after
having done a lot of hard work
in the planning stage. They
wrote detailed descriptions of
the functions of the officers
and even their by-laws.
“After asking more detailed
questions of ourselves and how
to run the magazine, we got
approved to be a committee,”
Stewart says.
“Our budget next year will
be partially supported by stu
dent service fees,” he says. “We
have a $4,800 budget and the
MSC has given us $1,000 to
work with.
“We felt that was very gener
ous — we expected to have to
raise our entire budget.”
Wood says the group
achieved substantial victory
over the bureaucracy of the
MSC.
“They’ve already proven
themselves — they’ve done a
great job of raising funds,”
Wood says.
The MSC Literary Arts Com
mittee will have functions
other than publishing Litmus.
The committee will also bring
in local poets and other literary
speakers.
The majority of the commit
tee’s money comes from dona
tions from people who are in
terested in the campus and art
on the campus, Stewart says.
“I know some people in Dal
las who are interested in young
people and who are interested
in education,” he says. “They
got us off the ground.”
Litmus funding also comes
from former students who be
lieve in what the Literary Arts
Committee is doing.
Stewart says he feels that at
some point the committee
could be self-sufficient, but
they won’t be an income gener
ator.
“Art never is,” he says.
But* whether art is a money
maker or not, this group of
people involved with Litmus is
concerned with other things.
Their pioneering spirit has
sparked a determination to
contribute something of value
to the university and its stu
dents.
“I’ve never seen a group of
people so excited about a pro
ject,” Stewart says. “We ran
into problems in planning; we
ran into problems in personal
ity, but these things never
dimmed the fire.
“I feel really good about the
people I worked with and the
product we’re putting out.
“It’s been a very altruistic
thing, but we’re doing this for
us too.”
Stewart mentions one stu
dent, Susie Boyer, who delayed
her graduation to work on the
magazine.
“I feel I accomplished some
thing at school besides school
work,” Boyer says. “I’ve accom
plished something for A6=M,
and that made me feel really
good about myself.”
With dedication like that,
Litmus becomes more than a
magazine.
“We’re providing an educa
tional and cultural service to
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