1.2
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Monday, March 18, 1968
Kennedy—
Continued from page 1 and the public at about the same time.
Again according to administration sources, it was Kennedy who offered the suggested makeup of the commission. The members he suggested reportedly had a common denominator—opposition to Johnson's Vietnam policy. Kennedy suggested himself as one of the commission members.
At one point in this stage of the conference, Sorenson indicated that what Kennedy wanted would be tantamount on Johnson's part to a confession of error.
Newsweek, one of two national magazines reportedly ready to print stories about dealings between Kennedy and Johnson, quoted one White House aide as calling Kennedy's proposal "the damnedest piece of political black-mail" he had ever heard of.
Johnson reportedly gave "immediate and positive" rejection to the proposal for several reasons including that the kind of statement suggested for him by Kennedy would, in effect, throw the gravest doubt on presidential policy.
In his statement, Kennedy said he told Clifford that he was "contemplating a race for the presidency largely because of the failure of our Vietnam policy."
He added that Clifford indicated "satisfaction with our talks" but contacted the junior senator several hours later "to say that the President had no intention of taking any such action."
"That night I decided to run for President," Kennedy said.
He added that it "became unmistakably clear to me that as long as Lyndon B. Johnson was President, our Vietnam policy would consist of only more war, more troops, more killing, and more senseless destruction of the country we were supposedly there to save."
Kennedy's statement concluded with a denunciation of White House credibility and honor in allegedly "leaking" a distortion of the commission affair.
Kennedy arrived in Kansas City at 8:05 p.m. Sunday by jet. He transferred to a smaller plane which took him to Topeka where he spoke at a $100-a-plate Democratic fund-raising dinner. He stayed overnight at Cedar Crest, the governor's mansion, and motored to Manhattan early this morning.
He is scheduled to depart from Lawrence by plane after the speech for Kansas City's Municipal Airport where a jet is waiting to return him to New York.
His visit to Kansas was postponed three times. New dates were set after the first two cancellations. With the third cancellation, however, his visit was postponed indefinitely. It was rescheduled earlier this month just days before he became an announced candidate.
Abrams-
Continued from page 1 class from the regular grading scale to a satisfactory-unsatisfactory system. When grades are due at the end of the semester, however, Abrams said he will have to revert to the old grading scale
"The students and I will get together at the end of the year and talk about their grades," he said. The purpose in changing is to give his students more freedom by breaking away from the old rigid grading scale, he said.
Kennedy's aide demonstrates skill
"There hasn't been anything mentioned about reinstatement so far," he said, "but I don't even know if I'd take it if I got it."
By John Marshall Kansan Staff Reporter
A pro moved into the All Student Council office Sunday.
He had New York written all over him-dark blue suit, pinstripe shirt, gold tie bar, and a dark blue-and-white tie dangling from a neat four-in-hand.
"My name's Jim-Jim Tolan," a deep eastern accent bounced off the walls of the room. Everyone stood at mental attention as he dialed the phone, cursed because he had forgotten to dial nine first, and then talked to a prominent KU political science professor on a first-name basis.
He was big—six-feet four, or so—and so was his operation. Soon the names of prominent Lawrence citizens, KU student leaders, influential professors, and members of the press began to fill his tattered stenographer's notebook—the nucleus from which the process of organizing Sen. Robert F. Kennedy's visit began to jell.
Itineraries, papers, and smudged memos were a disheveled pile before him on the desk. His burly hand thumped out a Camel cigarette, and tired but eager eyes glanced out the window and he asked if it would rain.
"Could be bad for the Senator."
Could be bad for the Senator. He made credit card calls to Topeka, making sure arrangements for this and that had been secured.
Taking off his coat, unbuttoning his vest, and leaning back in his chair, he relaxed for a moment to talk about the Senator's politics. Everyone was first name, cigarettes were exchanged, feet were on tabletops, and smoke began to fill the room. And the curt political discussions were "off the record."
Two hollow eyes said they were thirsty as Tolan looked up. He stood, dumped a handful of silver into a student's sweaty hand, and said "Please get us all a Coke."
He was concerned about sentiment. Most of all, he was com-
cerned about the greeting for the Senator. There may be 10,000 people here Monday to hear the Senator, he said—but that means there will be 7,000 empty seats.
A pert coed was asked to the office. Frosh Hawks, it was agreed, would form a reception line for the Senator at the airport.
Fraternity men were gathered by KU students—influential in what before today had seemed a "Republican" collegiate society. They would paint signs for the field house and the reception at the airport.
It was suggested that after the memos about an airport motorcade were distributed, students leave keys in cars to facilitate a smooth procession following the Senator's arrival.
More living groups were called, names became faces, and the confused melee of political organization began to fall into place.
Ambitious, but realistic enthusiasm about the Senator's visit began to ooze from those working closely with Tolan. He seemed optimistic about the Senator's Kansas political initiation as a presidential candidate—despite a thick muddle of conservatism and student apathy through which they must wade.
Apathy is more apparent here than at most other midwestern universities, a KU young Democrat leader said.
Tolan smiled, dialed the phone — he remembered the “nine” — and asked for the Chancellor. He called him Chancellor, not Clarke. The luncheon had been arranged.
Names came from the pro. He was fluid and confident, in a cautious way as he told us about the press celebrates from Washington, New York, and Europe who would be in Lawrence.
The Senator's visit might be a success, he said, as he dialed "cight"—long distance.
He had been in the office four hours. The pack of Camels was nearly empty.
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MONEY: THE STORY OF AN ENGINEER
We all know, of course, that in this age of technology every engineering senior is receiving fabulous offers of employment, but do we realize just how fabulous these offers are? Do we comprehend just how keenly industry is competing? To illustrate, let me cite the true and typical case of E. Pluribus Ewbank, a true and typical senior.
One day last week while strolling across the M.I.T. campus, E. Pluribus was hailed by a portly and prosperous man who sat in a yellow convertible studded with precious gem stones. "Hello," said the portly and prosperous man, "I am Portly Prosperous, president of American Xerographic Data Processing and Birth Control. Incorporated. Are you a senior?"
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"I feel sure she would," said E. Pluribus, "but I am not married."
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"What clean living, clean shaven American does not?" said E. Pluribus.
Portly pressed a button on the dashboard of the convertible and the trunk opened up and out came a nubile maiden with golden hair, rosy knees, a perfect disposition, and the appendix already removed. "This is Svetlana O'Toole," said Portly. "Would you like to marry her?"
"Is her appendix out?" said E. Pluribus.
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"Okay hov" said E. Plurihus
"Congratulations," said Portly. "And for the happy bride, a set of 300 monogrammed prawn forks."
"Thanks, hey," said Svetlana.
"Now then," said Portly to E. Pluribus, "let us get down to business. My company will start you at $75,000 a year. You will retire at full salary upon reaching the age of 26. We will give you an eleven-story house made of lapis lazuli, each room to be stocked with edible furniture. Your children will receive a pack of Personna Super Stainless Steel Blades every twelve minutes as long as they shall live. We will keep your teeth in good repair and also the牙齿 of your wife and children unto the third generation. We will send your dentist a pack of Personna Super Stainless Steel Blades every twelve minutes as long as he shall live, and thereafter to his heirs and assigns... Now, son, I want you to think carefully about this offer. Meanwhile here is 50 thousand dollars in small, unmarked bills which places you under no obligation whatsoever."
"Well, it certainly seems like a fair offer," said E. Pluribus. "But there is something you should know. I am not an engineer. In fact I don't go to M.I.T.at all. I just walked over here to admire the trees. I am at Harvard, majoring in Joyce Kilmer."
"Oh." said Portly.
"I guess I don't get to keep the money and the convertible and the Personnas and the broad, do I?" said E. Pluribus.
"Of course you do," said Portly. "And if you'd like the job, my offer still stands."
\* \* \*
© 1968, Max Shulman
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