Page 2 University Daily Kansar Wednesday, Sept. 23, 1959 Shotgunned Student Early Sunday, a student was shot in the back while trying to quell a noisy soirée near his fraternity house. According to a report filed with the Lawrence Police Department, the student was standing on a tennis court in back of the neighboring Sigma Chi fraternity about 2:30 a.m. when five shotgun pellets entered his back and arm. The shotgun blast apparently was in response to the student's pleas that a noisy group of men partying in a wooded area west of the fraternity might quiet down. Unbelievable? Certainly not. A culture such as can be found on any American campus produces a number of interesting variations of the human animal. Every kind to be found—eggheads and joy-riders, beatniks and social climbers, adults and pervers—can be found here. With some exceptions, they all have a place in creating the familiar college atmosphere. Uniquely, these and every other caste recognized by the multitude are banded under one of two headings: educator and student. In these positions, we of the University, no matter what our moral tendencies may be, have two responsibilities—to think, and to put thinking into practice. But when a student shoots another, or a girl gets attacked, or somebody jumps out of a window, we immediately realize that something must be wrong with our brand of thinking; at least the thinking that permits drunken parties, the wanton use of firearms, and the writing of lewd descriptions on toilet walls. Yet our culture cannot be wholly at fault. We live in a fine little world of ideas, fun and stimulating activity. It is only that exception, that little portion of our society which cannot contribute anything beneficial which must be removed. For this reason we have prisons and asylums filled with criminals and maniacs—odd products of our lenient way of life. Unfortunately there are not enough institutions for all of them; nor are there sufficient means to reshape all the deficient thinking apparent today. All that can be done is being done. The police may capture the injured student's assailant, but others will remain free. Free to prowl after girls and scrawl their feelings on toilet walls. —John Husar By Calder M. Pickett Associate Professor of Journalism THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS, by Robert L. Perkin. Doubleday, $5.95. The renaissance of the Rocky Mountain News began in the early 1940s. Before that time the paper had been a dull, staid, dead-on-its-feet journal that few wanted when they could have the Denver Post. Then it became a tabloid, and it started to emphasize the sort of news that tabloids had become famous for. The circulation soared, and so did the advertising lineage. This period, especially since around 1950, provides a happy conclusion to Robert L. Perkin's house history of the News. He subtitles his history "An Informal History of Denver and The Rocky Mountain News," but the most exciting passages in the earlier portions of the story are those concerning Denver. For, let's face it, the News was a dull newspaper. Whether it was a good newspaper is debatable. Nor is its position assured today. Big circulation and big advertising lineage do not signify greatness. The News is frequently shabby journalism. Lost dogs, crying mothers, that first kid who runs down the street naked on a warm April day, scantily clad movie stars, crime and scandal—these are the formulae of the Rocky Mountain News. On its more flamboyant days it puts even the old Bonfils and Tammen Post in the shade. The history of the News coincides with that of Denver, dating to 100 years ago, when the warring communities of Auraria and Denver City were founded along the placid little Cherry Creek. Colorado was off the beaten track, in a way, in 1859. The Oregon and Mormon trails were farther north; the Santa Fe trail farther south. Exciting Times Some Gold Rush pioneers went through the Colorado Rockies, but more went north, through what is now Wyoming. But Denver and Colorado were ready for exciting times, and the early News chronicle these times—when silver and gold prospectors, bearing "Pike's Peak or Bust" legends, poured across Kansas and Nebraska to the new El Dorado. Then came the crazy 1860s. Horace Greeley came out to Colorado, and a Greeley disciple founded the town that bears the name of the great New York editor. Other newspapers were installed. to give competition to William N. Byers and his News. A "professor" named Owen Goldrick came to town, wearing a plug hat, a Prince Albert and a boiled shirt and driving an ox team with a bull whip. He became one of the town's journalistic greats. John Evans of Evanston, Ill., helped to found the University of Denver. LITTLE MAN ON CAMPUS By Dick Bibler Flood and Fire And in 1864 the quiet little Cherry Creek, which most of the time looks as troublesome as a stream from a running water hose, boiled out of its banks. First there had been a fire that destroyed many of the shanties of little Denver. Then the flood, sweeping through the streets, washing away homes, putting the Rocky Mountain News out of business for a number of days. Other troubles were reported in the News. The Indians went on a rampage and massacred the settlers. Editor Byers got himself in a jam with a flashy widow who had come to town from Lawrence, Kan., and after a lengthy liaison, the lady took a few shots at the journalist. A Democrat, of all things, a man named William Loveland bought the News, after an alliance with Jay Gould. Alfred Packer, whose story is told by Gene Fowler in "Timber Line," drew the death sentence from an old southern judge: "OK, YOU'PLEDGES'—IT'S TIME FOR BED.'" "Stan' up, yah voracious maneating son of a bitch, stand up! "They was sivin Dimmierats in Hinsdale County, and ye eat five of thim... " Perkins knows Colorado history well, and he tells it well, even though his book is essentially a house ad for a relatively inconsequential paper. Eugene Field, the iconoclast who is best remembered as the poet of small children, appears in these pages, turning Denver journalism upside down. So do Haw Tabor and his Baby Doe, and Bonfils and Tammen, the gambler and bartender who bought the Denver Post. Much of this story is told much better in "Timber Line," but this is the story of the News, from Byers and his tiny little paper on the banks of the Cherry Creek to Lee Casey and Jack Foster and Molly Mavfield (Dear Molly) and the others who have finally given real competition to the Post, long the boss paper of Denver. Worth Repeating Delivering first day instructions to his class, the professor said: "I heartily recommend interruptions—except in the middle of my punch lines." "...And later I'll examine you on what I think I've told you."— Same prof. Area Editorials Lash Docking (Editor's note: The following editorials appeared in area newspapers concerning politics and the Kansas Board of Regents.) Above Politics Clement H. Hall, chairman of the Kansas Board of Regents, frankly admitted last Friday that a disagreement among the nine board members over the latest college building program has political overtones. This is shocking news. The last place Kansans ever want to see politics is in their system of higher education, a system most citizens regard with justifiable pride. The regents hold posts of honor and prestige. As policy-makers responsible for the education of more than 20,000 students, they have heretofore been considered above political influences. If they have sucumbed now, the results could be tragic. One expects Gov. George Docking to play politics. One expects the Republican Legislature to differ with the governor on political issues. But Kansans do not expect the regents to enter that game. If there have been any major disagreements among them, attributable to politics, in recent years, this fact has not been known to the public. KU a 'Whipping Boy' Unhappily, Governor Docking seems to have chosen to make the University of Kansas his favorite whipping boy. It is equally unfortunate that appropriations for higher education have tended to become political issues between the parties. Education should be neither Republican nor Democrat. The state's colleges cannot thrive if politics divide their governing body, the regents. The issue over which the regents split, concerns the urgency of constructing college buildings in time for the deluge of students expected in 1962, 1963 and 1964. A year ago the board voted unanimous approval to a speedup program. Only one new member has been appointed since then. The facts have not changed. Yet four members named by the present governor voted Friday in line with his view that there should be no additional money appropriated, other than the 3 million dollars a year from the educational building fund. Reasonable men, with all the facts on future enrollments before them, should be able to agree on which course is better, regardless of any coming fights in the Legislature. It is to the credit of Chairman Hall that he is still attempting to get a unanimous vote. Whatever the final decision, right or wrong, citizens must hope the regents dispel any suspicion of political motivation. It would be a sad day for Kansas if such an attitude were to prevail. (From the Kansas City Star, September 21, 1959.) * * Getting Votes Gov. George Docking, if the majority of Kansas political commentators are to be believed, has found his chief whipping boy in the University of Kansas. Some statesmen gain and hold power simply by convincing their constituents they are against sin. Others keep in the limelight with unrelenting warfare against more specific targets, such as communism, taxes, booze or the opposition party. This appalls many observers, who act as if they'd caught George stealing from the poor box or wrapping the family garbage in pages of the Constitution. Actually, the governor has a mighty good whipping boy from the simple vote-getting standpoint. Only a tiny minority of Kansans hold college degrees; there is still less than a majority of the state's population with high school diplomas. The governor is on safe ground simply because the majority of voters don't give two whoops in a rain barrel for the state university. Even the so-called active alumni is largely composed of seekers after 50-yard-line seats and tellers of tall tales about fraternity house pranks. Our governor knows you don't have to be a college man to vote (From the Hutchinson News, September 14, 1959.) Daily Hansan University of Kansas student newspaper Founded 1889, became biweekly 1004, triweekly 1008, daily Jan. 16, 1912. Telephone Vlking 3-2700 Extension 711, news room Enquiries 776, business office Extension 711, news room Extension 376, business office Member Inland Daily Press Association. Associated Collegiate Press. Represented by National Advertising Service. 420 Madison Ave., New York, N.Y. News service: United Press International. Mail subscription rates: $3 a semester or $5 a year. Published in Lawrence, Kan., every afternoon during the University year except Saturdays and Sundays. University holidays, and examination periods. Entered as second-class matter Sept. 17, 1910, at Lawrence, Kan., post office under act of March 3, 1879. NEWS DEPARTMENT Jack Harrison Managing Editor Carol Allen, Dick Crocker, Jack Morton and Doug Yocom, Assistant Managing Editors; Rael Amos, City Editor; Jim Trotter, Sports Editor; Carolyn Frailey, Society Editor. EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT George DeBord and John Husar Co-Editorial Editors Sandrad Hayn. Associate Editorial Editor. BUSINESS DEPARTMENT Didi Kane Business Manager Ted Tidwell, Advertising Manager; Joanne Novak, Promotion Manager; Ruth Rieder, National Advertising Manager; Tom Schmidt, Circulation Manager; John Massa, Classified Advertising Manager.