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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Oct. 5, 1989)
The Battalion ■ LIFESTYLES Thursday, October 5, 1989 Legendary leaders of Texas A&M By Katsy Pittman Of The Battalion Staff H arrington, Sbisa, Puryear, Ross — you glance at their bronzed plaques on campus every day, but do you ever wonder what these men were really like? Sure, they helped lead Texas A&M Uni versity to where it is today, but who were the real men behind the leg ends? Dr. M.T. Harrington, Class of’22, was the first A&M graduate to be come president of the University. The M.T. stood for Marion Thomas, although he rarely was called that. Instead, some friends called him Tom, but the rest just called him “Empty” (sounds like M.T. — get it?). Though many of his reforms brought accolades to the University, not all of Harrington’s visions were recognized. For instance, in 1953 many critics complained that enroll ment had dropped to such low levels that women should be allowed to en ter the University. His reply? “This movement for co-education at A&M College would be sufficient grounds for serious alarm if it were true. Fortunately, it is not.” Harrington, who still visits the campus every day, admits that things are a lot different from the days when there were only 2,000 under graduates. Today, he says that he’s glad to see A&M at it’s present size. How ever, at a 1974 banquet in his honor, Harrington related his fears that lib eralness came with bigness. “I’d hate to see us get up to the 40,000 student level,” Harrington said. “But I think we are going to the twenties and maybe the thirties.” Dr. Charles Puryear, A&M’s first football manager, might be sur prised to see the campus today, too. One year, a very perplexing issue to Puryear was whether pool tables should be allowed in the student Y building, for at the time, billiard playing was considered a slightly shady pastime. After a lengthy debate, Puryear decided the pool tables would be al lowed on one condition — poetry would be read every afternoon by English instructor Thomas F. Mayo in order to uplift the moral sur roundings. Puryear’s secretary, Hettie Edge, was receiving some mixed up signals also. It took a long time for her to build up the courage to ask Puryear why he sent memos to himself. When she finally asked, he was reported to 1 \ s rep' have said, “I like to get mail myself!” In a letter from a 1914 correspon dence, E.B. Cushing chastised Pur year (who was acting president at the time), for requesting an electric fan for a professor. Cushing, the presi dent of the board of directors, in sisted that fans were “personal luxu ries” and that if one professor got a fan, they would all want one. In another letter, Puryear also was condemned by Cushing for allowing a certain soup to be served to the stu dents. “The fact carries with it the irre sistible conclusion that you are wast ing the time of the men for prepar ing this unpalatable mess,” Cushing wrote. Bernard Sbisa, the man behind the legend of the most commonly mispronounced building on campus (should be Spee-za, not Suh-bees- suh), was a little more popular in the food department. The official “Supervisor of Subsis- tance,” Sbisa was credited for getting the meals out quickly. On Nov. 11, 1911, the old mess hall burned down. For once, Sbisa got the meals out late. Breakfast wasn’t served until 10 a.m. More than a few cadets thought they were probably going to be lucky for once and get a walk in their morning classes. College classes were something Thomas Otto Walton missed out on. Walton, who was president of the Univeristy in 1925, never received an academic degree. Although he did receive an honorary one from Baylor, Walton’s lack of education was said to haunt him for the rest of his days. Lawrence Sullivan Ross —an A&M legend if there ever was one — was an Indian fighter, pioneer and two-time governor of Texas. He also was not a man you’d want to upset. According to one story, on the night of the 1887 inaugural ball, Ross’ father was stopped at the door because he didn’t have an official in vitation. “The hell you say,” retorted Ross. “If I don’t get in there, I’ll call my boy, Sul, out and we’ll take this place apart!” He got in. Of course, Ross is more well known for establishing some of Ag- gieland’s best traditions. Under his supervision came the first Aggie Band, the Association of Former Students and the first design of the Aggie ring. But this revered A&M figure, who supposedly gave up running for U.S. Senator for the position of A&M President, drew some negative comments also. His critics said Ross had devel oped an “imported Yankee Republi can faculty” and that Ross had 2 -- Crdi ~»fti ; i ! : Imiml. Illustration by DougL turned A&M into a school of “nii tary peacockery.” One person who wasn’t al fond of Ross was a close family a ber — his grandson. Lawrence Sullivan Ross (Mf freshman in 1917, was given aij cial job by several upperciassmei seemed every time a storm rollec Fish Sul would have to stand witt umbrella over the statue of his vered grandfather. 1917 was a rainy year. “Before that year was over,” Clarke, “I got pretty damned of grandpa.” Class helps Aggies drive responsibly By James A. Johnson Of The Battalion Staff Defensive driving — it’s not a phrase that ap peals to the average college student. But the de fensive driving class sponsored by University Plus combines humor, common sense and per sonal experience to publicize the realities asso ciated with careless and drunken driving. Whether class members attend a defensive driving course simply to dismiss a traffic citation or to receive a three-year 10 percent discount on car insurance, the information that is commu nicated between instructors and their students oftentimes is crucial. Through his witty approach, Bryan Apperson, class instructor and graduate assistant for the Safety Education program at Texas A&M, tells students about false assumptions regarding traf fic safety and advises them to maintain a respon sible attitude when they get behind the wheel of a ^vehicle. * “My main goal is to make the class entertain ing, informative and quick,” Apperson said. “It ^stimulates thought. When people leave our pro gram, they’ve learned something.” He discusses topics ranging from where to stop at a stop sign to how much alcohol it takes to intoxicate a driver. He also makes strong impres sions on class participants by circulating hand outs, presenting numerous visual materials and stating relevant information that students either do not know or learned in high school but forgot, f Katherine Barnett, a senior kinesiology major I who received a parking ticket for riding her ■scooter on campus sidewalks, admits she dreaded the class before taking it, but was relieved to find : it worthwhile. “I don’t think it would’ve been bearable with out a teacher who was entertaining,” Barnett said. “He (Apperson) has refreshed a whole lot from Driver’s Ed and uses personal experience effectively.” Because Apperson is 29 years old, he reminds students that he can recall how college students tend to believe rumors, particularly when alcohol ; is the topic. r He said the first thing that alcohol does is af fect a driver’s judgment. Because alcohol circu lates through a person’s bloodstream contin uously until it is eliminated by the liver, it can be mx- a constant threat to both drivers and innocent bystanders, he said. Drivers are apprehended if their blood-alco hol level is .10 percent or higher. The percentage is equivalent to one drop of alcohol to 99 drops of blood. If, however, a patrolman feels a driver’s judgment is adversely affected, the driver still may be arrested even if his blood-alcohol level is below .10 percent, Apperson added. “Drivers can get picked up for drinking one beer if their judgment is considered impaired,” he said. Apperson said that although an intoxicated driver may avoid being pulled over one night, he IVIy main goal is to make the class entertaining, informative and quick. It stimulates thought. When people leave our program, they’ve learned something.” — Bryan Apperson, Defensive driving instructor may be jailed the next morning if he drives while his blood-alcohol level is still above the legal limit. Apperson also said that once a driver is under the influence of alcohol there is often an increase in risk taking, such as running stop lights and passing other vehicles when there is heavy on coming traffic. As a result, the probability of col lisions increases. Apperson has heard several different re sponses from class participants concerning how they know when they have had enough to drink. The responses included: •Numbness of the face. •Someone asks to drive for them. •Someone cannot remember how many drinks they have consumed. •An individual appears to be the only one drinking. •The body’s reflexes become slower. •A person has a tendency to smile for long periods of time. Current statistics are used to enhance the class, informing students about increasing trends con cerning traffic data and ways to prevent future carelessness. “Between 10 at night and 2 in the morning, one in three drivers are under the influence of alcohol,” Apperson said. “Most people don’t real ize that, but it’s something to think seriously about.” Jason McCreight, a junior accounting major from Deer Park, was pulled over while driving a friend’s truck. The friend, who had asked him to help him move furniture, had reached over and adjusted the cruise control to 70 mph. Although McCreight tried to explain his situation to a pa trol officer, he still was cited for speeding. For McCreight, it not only meant paying the cost of the ticket, but enrolling in his third defensive driving class as well. After surviving two not-so-interesting driving classes, McCreight said the University Plus class was by far the most efficient class he had taken. “The course was well focused on relevant material,” McCreight said. “I enjoyed the part that dealt with alcohol-related matters. It’s such an important issue, and I believe the University should make it a required class for graduation.” Apperson said he tries to make the course use ful and enjoyable. Judging from comments made on course evaluation forms, he has been success ful. Comments ranged from “The instructor made the course, which I had expected to be dull and boring, worth really paying attention to,” to “This class was a real eye-opener.” While Apperson’s enthusiasm toward his occu pation continues to lure otherwise indifferent students, his opportunity to inform the public gives him personal satisfaction. “I enjoy my job because I can make a differ ence through my teaching,” Apperson said. “Ho pefully, those who attend my class can help make a difference for themselves and others.” University Plus will again offer the class this Friday and Saturday. Additional courses will con tinue through December. Production only decent aspect of new Dylan LP By John Righter Of The Battalion Staff Bob Dylan Oh Mercy CBS Records Two things are apparent when listening to Oh Mercy, one, Dan iel Lanois, who has worked with U2, Robbie Robertson and Brian Eno, can capture and sustain a feel on vinyl better than any other current producer; and two. Bob Dylan is a sad image of his former self. In order to understand Oh Mercy, you need to divide it into two parts — Lanois’ and Dylan’s. With the possible exception of the David Stewart-produced Empire Burlesque, Dylan’s records of the 1980s have had two major faults: one, they haven’t been very well written; and two, they haven’t sounded very good. Obviously, with those two marks against him, Dylan has had a creatively dreadful decade. In fact, it is hard to find a good Dy lan album since he released De sire in 1975, a reality that adds light to all the hoopla about Oh Mercy being his best work in 15 years. Big deal, the only other worthwhile release of the decade was Biograph, and that was a ret rospective package. This brings us to what makes Oh Mercy an enjoyable album, Lanois — at least Lanois and all the friends (Cyril Neville, Daryl Johnson and Mason Ruffner) he brought aboard to help Dylan out. Lanois is a master in the studio, proven by his work on U2’s The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree and more recent!' with The Neville Brothers. lts| not Dylan that sounds so g Hear Lanois play the dobro, hear j Lanois pick the lap steel guitar hear Lanois on the omnichord I and most of all hear the resultsof | Lanois’ mixing and production, The outcome of Lanois’ toil is | an evocative mix of New Orleans blues, high tech synths and Cajun dirge. It really makes you wis: I Lanois had locked Dylan out i I he outcome of Lanois toil is an evocative mix of New Orleans blues, high tech synths and Cajun dirge. It really makes you wish Lanois had locked Dylan out of the studio and made Oh Mercy without him. the studio and made Oh Mero j without him. Dylan does, however, shine on I two songs, especially on the beau tifully haunting “Most of tht Time,” a song about a not quit« forgotten love that seems to hii home all too painfully: “1 car make it all match up/ I can hold my own/ I can deal with this situa; tion/ right down to the bone; * * can survive and I can endure And I don’t even think about her Most of the time.” The other is the witty “Wha 1 ! Was It You Wanted,” in whk'| Dylan taunts his audience. here were you when it started/ See Dylan/Page 8 feSSS v , *V-'«