KANSAN Comment Editor in Chief, Ron Yates Editor in Chief, Ron Yates Editorial Editor Alan T. Jones Edition Editor Don Westerhaus News Editor Joanna Wiebe Sports Editor Bob Kearney Carry Nation lives The demon rum issue ain't dead and won't be dead for years in Kansas. As a student of Carry Nation and her anti-booze campaigns of a more colorful if less enlightened period in Kansas history, I was recently very much interested in a letter which appeared in The Wichita Eagle. The author was up in arms over an Eagle editorial which criticized Kansas' dry liquor laws. She writes: "As a Christian I must take a stand of total abstinence, for the Bible says, Matt. 12:30, 'He that is not with me is against me,' and I feel it is high time people take a stand for right. What are our boys fighting for anyway? Rom. 13:13 states that drunkenness causes rioting. Now you can see why our schools are in such a mess." Not only did this little lady think demon rum was behind troublesome youth, but she also had seen "hunger and nakedness in our own city because of this filthy stuff." Further, "Our streets are not safe for our children now and a disgrace, littered with trash and beer cans scattered by drinkers." At the peak of emphasis, she wrote, "I love my country, have had four sons volunteer for service, but they weren't fighting to defend a drunken nation but 'One Nation under God' which He said will surely go down if drinking continues." Not only is one left wondering if the spirit of Carry Nation ever died, but one wonders if it ever will. The Wichita Eagle has not been a late-comer to the drinking battle. In fact, Carry herself, irate over The Eagle's opposition to her campaign, called The Eagle "the rum-bought sheet that has made Wichita one of the most lawless places in Kansas." But then, as now, the anti-rum crusade was not without editorial support. William Allen White (whom Kansans tend to glorify to the extent that they debase Carry Nation) was an avid supporter of Carry's tactics: "Fight the devil with fire," wrote White. "Smash the jointists from Kansas. They have no rights that a white man is bound to respect. Hurrah for Carry Nation." For the unsolved drinking issue to have spanned over a century of time gives a great deal of credit to the gusto of Carry Nation, William Allen White and modern letter-to-the-editor writers. Liquor by the drink advocates might very well be more successful if they gave up the freedom side of the issue and took up the moral side. Isaiah and Proverbs are packed with verses recommending wine. Yes, hurrah for Carry Nation. She knew an ax could be understood well by Kansans who could never be reached with the logical and ideological arguments on the liquor issue. MIKE SHEARER The Hill With It by john hill "Tomorrow . . . " he said, wistfully, gazing into some faraway dimension. I could see that a violent attack of philosophy was coming on. "Tomorrow . . . what is tomorrow . . . and yet—what was today?" "Do you know what tomorrow is?" I asked my roommate, Lester the Molester, as we tipped back in our chairs, our feet up on a piece of furniture that is totally unidentifiable. Usually when one of these fits seizes him I quickly cover him with blankets, pile furniture on him to hold him down, and try to keep him from biting his tongue. But I decided to let him ride this one out, cold turkey. "Tomorrow," I growled in my most realistic, practical, down-to-earth tone, "is the day we have to come up with some money. You know, Rent City. What do we tell the landlord?" Deep in mystic thought, his eyebrows knitted. They started a scarf for me last month, but never finished it. "The landlord, a fellow journeyman down the Pathway of Life, we must never forget, must be made to understand that we don't have the money right now, that the gods are amusing themselves with us, and that man does not control his own destiny." That little pearl of wisdom issued forth, hit the floor, bounced a few times, then rolled under the refrigerator with all the dust and bottlecaps and stuff. "Material wealth . . ." murmured the Molester, almost to himself, "worldly goods . . . physical affluence . . . what care we for baubles and trinkets, soon to become dust, as all of us will someday—" "Somehow," I said, as the sarcasm dripped off every syllable and made little spots on the floor, "that might not do it." "We seem to be long on talk and short on the root of all evil," I summed up. "Is this the concensus opinion?" "Fellow leaf caught in the whirling winds of Fate. ves." "So whatter we gonna do for money? If it's not to mortal a subject for you to ponder." "Perchance t'would be advantageous to visually cast about for such symbols of trade and prosperity," he mumbled, looking behind the cushions of the sofa for stray pennies. "See if you can see any quarters too," I yelled from the kitchen, where I was chiseling the no-deposit-no-return label off some pop bottles . . . 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