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-'«