Page 2/The BattalionATuesday, April 30,1985
OPINION
Cemetery visit not
intended to honor
President Reagan continues to receive ridicule for his
planned visit to the Bitburg cemetery in West Germany which
has graves of 2,000 soldiers and 49 Waffen SS officers. Many al
ternatives have been suggested, but Reagan can do little without
offending someone involved.
By visiting the cemetery, Reagan is not condoning the ac
tions of the SS or trying to lessen the plight of the Jews. He is
trying to make a statement to the German people.
Reagan said Monday the purpose of his visit is not to honor
anyone, but merely to demonstrate the great reconciliation
which has taken place.
“All of those in that cemetery have long since met the su
preme judge of right and wrong, and whatever punishment or
justice has been rendered by one who was above us all,” Reagan
said.
As Reagan pointed out, media coverage of the Bitburg con
troversy has gotten out of hand. Visiting the cemetery does not
make a statement in favor of Nazism, but continued harping by
the adversaries of the trip has led Reagan to be portrayed as a
Nazi sympathizer and anti-Semitic.
Obviously, Reagan was not trying to offend the Jewish com
munity with his actions. At most, attending a cemetery where SS
officers are buried was an oversight on Reagan’s part.
While the heinous crimes of the Nazis must never be forgot
ten, an innocent and overblown mistake by a United States
president can be.
The Battalion Editorial Board
Phase One complete;
time for the real world
Right now, at this
very moment, several
thousand graduating
seniors are loaf ing
around apartments,
dorms and home
towns. Pay attention
those of you who belong to this happy,
gloating crew. This column’s for you.
Marcy
Basile
Four years ago our main concern was
Senior Prom. Some dwelled on the idea
of showing off new outrageously expen
sive dresses while others hid the pain of
rejection behind seemingly haughty fa
cades. How irrelevant such feelings
seem now.
Now' we preen for interviews; no
one’s opinions matter more than a pro
spective employer’s. Parading around
campus in suits — men with (heaven
forbid!) perfectly knotted ties and
women in navy patent leather pumps.
We’ve come a long way from frilly
dresses and baby blue tuxedos.
As freshmen we played. We were
high school hotshots with a lot of grow
ing up to do. My best friend and I
vowed never to settle for “C”s and to
never, ever go out with non-regs. Chem
istry 101 tests produced record-break
ing pizza consumption. We epitomized
naive freshmen.
Tower joined our illustrious ranks that
year. We screamed. The nerve of the
man to donate so much money just for a
place to hang his name. (Thank you,
Mr. Albritton for those wonderful
bells.)
So here we are at the end of the be
ginning.
When we entered, we were lonely,
scared and completely lost. Campus
maps and the Dixie Chicken were our
best friends. Now we have our class
rings and the Dixie Chicken (some
things are too good to change).
Of the four years, the last has been
my favorite. After three majors and
more than my share of “discussions with
the dean,” 1 finally found my niche at
A&M.
The Battalion has become my home.
Even though 1 didn’t write for The Batt,
I got to know most of the people in
volved with its production. Some of
them I will never forget — some I will
choose to forget. All have left their
mark on me and my ideals. I may not
have agreed with the politics of all the
editors I have known, but I respected
their decisions regardless of the reper
cussions. These people made me laugh
and they made me cry. But above all,
they made me feel welcome.
Thirty college hours and two seriies-
ters of hard-earned wisdom accompa
nied us into our sophomore years. No
longer the “fish” on campus, we
pranced and cavorted — delighting in
the thought of humiliating the lower
dass among us.
Later in the year the Academic Build
ing was captured — a prisoner behind
chicken wire. Word spread that for
some inane reason a cow-manure mix
ture was scheduled to be sprayed on the
building to speed the aging process.
(Personally, I think the students were
being punished for some collective in
dignity upon the school’s reputation.)
Phase I of the Academic Building reno
vation had begun.
Junior year. The year we were no
longer handed green parking stickers.
No more Fish Lot for us. Mr. Albritton’s
These four years have taught me
more than how to tell acids from bases,
the inner workings of a pig and the
finer points of newspaper column writ
ing. No, I also learned no difference
separates C.T.s from non-regs (short
hair no longer excites me), gays and
straights can co-exist on the A&M cam
pus despite all the regents’ money and
the Albritton Tower is worth more to
me than the money it cost.
I learned about life — the pain and
joy associated with living. I learned that
college is the beginning of a lifetime.
I’m 21, not yet settled into the adult
phase of my life.
But I do know Phase I is complete.
Time for Phase II to commence.
Marcy Basile is a senior journalism
major and a columnist for The Battal
ion.
LETTERS: —
Bryan residents
thank fraternity
EDITOR:
Several months ago, our family pub
licly took to task a neighborhood frater :
nity house tor a number of unneigh-
borly acts, as well as the Bryan Police for
what we felt was a lack of response to
some of these incidents.
Now it is only fair to thank members
of that same fraternity for helping my
family as witnesses in a small claims case
involving damage done to our vehicle by
a young man who fled the scene and was
chased down by Ned Plum and Cody
Smith of the Kappa Alpha house.
It would have been very easy for
these young men to not want to get in
volved with someone else’s problem, es
pecially since a number of episodes —
none of which involved these two — had
strained relations between the KAs and
some nearby residents.
However, they were willing to get in-
IM—I —
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Aq majors are people, too
In Novembt
Peter Pan cost
top of the Astr
4 banner that
Jackson’s Help
Cancer."
I have a bad habit
of listening to other
people’s conversa
tions. The other day
I was eavesdropping
on a couple of co
eds. They were urob-
bariK.
Lorie
Woodward
ably future bank presidents or fashion
editors, but on that particular afternoon
they were just happy-go-lucky college
girls chattering about men, parties and
new clothes.
and they do milk cows, but they do it
with expensive, high-tech equipment.
Running machinery that might cost
over $200,000 is far from oeing a
mindless task. A farmer has to keep the
wolf away from the door as well as the
banker, the fertilizer man, the feed
store owner, the equipment salesman
and Uncle Sam.
shunned, because all the technoloeyii
the world can’t save one starving baovif
a “dumb goat-roper” doesn’t plant his
seeds.
Lorie Woodward is a sophomore f
ricultural journalism major
I’d heard it all before so I was only lis
tening with one ear when Ms. A stood
up, ran her perfectly-manicured fingers
through her perfectly-coiffed curls and
announced, “Well bon, I’ve got to run.
I’ve got class in Kleberg.”
A look of horror crept across Ms. B’s
face; she clutched her Gucci as if to
ward off to evil spirits and said, “You
p-o-o-o-r darling — you actually have to
associate with those dumb goat-roping
ag majors.”
Agriculturists can’t afford to be
dumb. All the dumb farmers I know are
unemployed. To stay in business in to
day’s world, farmers and ranchers have
to have a working knowledge of ac
counting, finance, marketing, genetics
and nutrition not to mention physiol
ogy, pathology, applied physics, organic
chemistry, tax law and rural sociology.
Dumb goat roping ag majors—that
phrase really burned itself into my
brain. One reason it got my attention is
because prejudice of any kind disturbs
me, but that particular prejudice hit a
little too close to home. You see, I’m a
dumb goat-roper as is my father and his
father before nim.
Now I’ll be the first to admit that agri
culturists usually aren’t patrons of the
arts, but that doesn’t mean that farmers
and ranchers can’t appreciate beauty.
My father has never marvelled at Mich
elangelo, hummed Beethoven or quoted
Shakespeare, but he has taught me to
appreciate things like a dew-covered
spider web glistening in the morning
sun, the perfection of a newborn calf
and the smell of f reshly plowed earth.
Agriculture in Thomas Jefferson’s
time was a noble profession, but agricul
ture in Ronald Reagan’s time is a career
reserved for “dumb goat-ropers.”
I guess I can see where the dumb part
of the stereotype comes from. It’s easy
to sit in a bustling office with its ringing
phones and crumpled Wall Street Jour
nals and romanticize about the simplic
ity of life on the farm. Nothing for a
f jerson to do all day but mindless chores
ike chopping weeas and milking cows.
Today’s agriculturists do chop weeds
My dad’s tastes are simple and his
priorities straightforward. Fie says that
loving your family and loving your work
are right on up there with loving God.
He also says that having food on your
table is more important than having
Galvin Kleins on your buns, Rolexes on
your wrist or Borsches in your garage.
I have a f eeling a lot of modern 2igri-
culturists adhere to these old-fashioned
notions. Having to depend on Nature
for a living makes people see life in sim
ple terms.
Now that I think about it, agricultur
ists do seem simple in the context of to
day’s world. But they shouldn’t he
volved, even to the point of accompany
ing us to the courtroom, and our family
wishes to express its gratitude. We also
understand that the fraternity expelled
a number of high-spirited members re
sponsible for irritating incidents, and
that active members are involved in a
number of community service projects.
good fences that make good neighbors,
but also this kind of mutual responsibil
ity.
We would like the members of KA to
know that we are glad to see this move
toward a better relationship with those
who live down the block. It’s not just
We also would like to recognize the
Bryan Police Department’s increased re
sponsiveness, and we encourage all
Bryan residents to take an interest in
our police department as well as asking
city council members to find funding
for the department on a level that would
assure all Bryan neighborhoods the se
curity of routine patrols.
Ed and Mary Walraven
The Battalion
USPS 045 360
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Jou rnalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Rhonda Snider, Editor
Michele Powe, Managing Editor
Kay Mallctt, News Editor
Loren Stef f y, Editorial Page Editor
Karen Bloch, City Editor
Travis Tingle, Sports Editor
The Battalion Staff
Assistant City Editors
Kirsten Dietz, Jerry Oslin
Assistant News Editors
Cathie Anderson, Jan Pern
Assistand Editorial Page Editor
John Halletl
Assistant Sports Editor
Charean Williams
Entertainment Editors
Cathy Riely, Walter Smitk
Staff Writers ....Tamara Bell, MegCadigan,
Ed Cassavoy, Ann Cervenka
Michael Crawford, CindyCat,
Doug Hall, Paul Herndon.
Tammy Kirk, Jens Roepk
Trent Leopold, Mary McWortet,
June Pang, Tricia Parker,
Lynn Rae Povec, Marybeth Rohsner
Cigi Shamsy, Kenneth Sun
Copy Editors Mike Davis, Rebecca Adair,
Wendylohnson
Make-up Editor ,....Ed Cassavoy
Columnists Caini Brown, Marcy Basile
Patti Flint
Morning Editor .John Haiku
Photo Editor WayneGrabein
Editorial Policy
7Tie Battalion is a non-profit, self-supportingnmpapd
operated as a community service to Texas A&M w
B ryan-Collcge St a t ion.
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of iht
Editorial Board or the author, and do not necessarilfty
resent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators,
or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper fa
students in reporting, editing and photograph)'cfa#
within the Department of Communications,
Letters Policy
Letters to the Editor should not exceed 300 words in
length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit faW
for style and length but will make every effort to iminlM
the author's intent. Each letter must be signed and0
indude the address and telephone number of the wnier
The Battalion is published Monday through Frify
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and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are
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