Memphis World
Memphis World Publishing Co.
1950-09-08
Lewis O. Swingler

MEMPHIS WORLD
The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper
Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO.
Every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 164 BEALE—Phone 8-4030
Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail
under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1879
Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE
W. A. Scott, II. Founder, C. A. Scott, General Manager
LEWIS O.SWINGLER............ Editor
A. G. SHIELDS, Jr.......... Advertising Manager
The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper—non
sectarian and non-partisan printing news unbiasedly and supporting
those things it believes to the interest of its readers and opposing
those things against the interest of its readers.
SUBSCRIPTION RATES
Year $5.00—6 Months $3.00—3 Months $1.50 (In Advance)

Tragedy On The Highway
The tragic death of Miss Irene Harris last Saturday
afternoon near Richmond, Indiana is as shocking to her host
of friends in Atlanta as it is to her close relatives in Ohio,
where she was reared and educated.
According to reports from Indiana, Miss' Harris had
been attending a meeting at Richmond and was returning
to her home in Columbus, Ohio last Saturday afternoon,
when the car in which she was, riding drove head-on into
another car which was traveling in the opposite direction.
Another occupant of the car in which Miss Harris was riding 
is reported to haw died also shortly after she was admitted 
to the hospital.
For a number of years, Miss Harris had served as
Executive Secretary of the Phyllis Wheatly Young Women's
Christian Association with great distinction and acceptance
in Atlanta. She was the moving spirit behind the citywide
campaign to relocate and rebuild the YWCA headquarters
in line with the growth of Atlanta. That dream of hers is
nearing realization on Atlanta's westside, facing Morris
Brown College.
Because of the effectiveness of her leadership and the
magnitude of her influence, The National Hoard of the Y. W.
C. A. chose her to a wider field of service. But, fortunately
Atlanta was able to claim Miss Harris, in that she maintained 
headquarters here as she performed her new duties as
National Student Secretary among college students.
No words of ours can quite adequately express the grief
and sorrow which all Atlantans, many of whom are whites,
over the passing, of Miss Irene Harris. Few churches of any
denomination among Negroes which did not have the honor
of hearing her speak on Woman's Day or on some other occasion. 
She was quiet and unassuming in the best sense, of
that term. She was cultured and well educated but made no
showy ostentation of what she knew. She worked well with
people and Atlanta appreciated her leadership and demonstrated 
this appreciation by giving her the support that she
richly merited.

SHORT TALKS
By


"You will make a line pianist
someday if you'll work," the teacher 
said to the student. The boy
had been wretchedly taught but his
hands were strong and supple and
be had good reach. These things
she pointed out and they were
sparks of hope to the ambitions
young man. He became an accomplished 
musician.
Good teachers never do anything
to deaden hope. They try to save
the tiniest sparks by fanning to life
with words of encouragement They
male the individual feel that he is
needed and that he can achieve
Hope seems to came latent power
to become dynamos. Hope will give
new life to a crushed ambition
Hope will make mole hills out of
mountains. Hope will lift your vieion 
above the conflicts of today and
enable you to see the successes of
tomorrow Hope is intended fur all
of us; It is the star to which out
wagon must be hitched in order
to obtain success.
Struggling, young Henry Ford met
Thomas Edison at a dinner and

timidly asked permission to explain
his idea of a combustible gas engine 
Mr. Edison listened attentively 
and said, "Thank you, Sir." With
something!" Henry Ford lighted up
and said, "Thank you, Sir." With
renewed hope-he returned to his
little shop in the rear and worked
untiringly to perfect his engine. After 
many attempt, he gave to the
world the Ford Automobile, and he
became one of the greatest inventor-industrialists 
of his time or of
any other time. Perhaps it was
this "pat on the bark" from Edion 
that caused him to succeed.
Hope says not to worry about
the merits of another Acknowledge 
them but try to prove your own
Don't compete with anyone except
yourself. Let your bet be your
yard stick. Comparison between
individuals can do much to deader
hope and is equally as detrimental
at home as at school.
To give a child hope is perhaps
the greatest gift we can give him.
It tells him he can it he thinks he
can!

"Gray Hair" Troubles
are over... with LARIEUSE!

Larieuse


FORGOTTEN?... OR FASCINATING?

Larieuse


HEADLINES & BYLINES
By SILAS P. WASHINGTON

The subject which Is about to be
discussed here has been touched
upon by many m several Negro
newspapers. It concerns a statement 
about us attributed to Dr
Lee, of PAY DAY, SOME DAY,
lame Judging from comments made
on this statement has precipitaed
considerable discussion.
Let it be known at the outset that
we hold no brief for Dr. Lee We
are not acquainted with him, and
We have not been fortunate enough
to hear his famous sermon Nor are
we sympathetic with him on his attitude 
toward the Negro race. On
the contrary, it is indeed hard for
us to understand how such reputedly 
magnanimous white people can
have such attitudes toward any race
of people Such can be more easily
comprehended from the ordinaryor 
only slightly educated while man;
for it is known tint he often honest
ly mistakes what some sociologist
call "arrested development," for
degeneracy. On the other hand, It
is reasonable to suppose that the
learned have read that Emerson
says that the degraded people are
the ones whose history has not been
written. It is reasonable to suppose
further that they know that the
wisdom of the ages often shows
that the first are the last, and the
last, first Again we repeat that it
is indeed difficult to see how such
renowned men can have minds
distorted as their utterances indicate. 

Now, it is childish to ignore all
that a man with attitudes diametrically 
opposed to yours says. It is
Just us sensible us taking german
out of the high school curriculum
when the country is at war with
Germany On the contrary, we
should be eager to consider what
he has to say
The statement which seems to
have worked so much comment is
in substance that the Negro should
pay less attention to segregation
and more to his greatest enemy,
liquor. That seems to imply that
segregation compared to liquor is
a small potato.
Please keep in mind the fact that
we do not necessarily adheres to
that doctrine On the other hand,
there may be something worthy of
our attention in his statement. Why
did he specify liquor? Our health
is under par Our wealth is indeed
scant. Our death rate is high; our
economic opportunities are few.
There are in addition many other
shortcomings. Yet, in spite of the

existence of all of these, he singled 
out liquor.
If you could follow us around on
Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays,
you would see manifest many monetonous 
examples of Negro victims
of liquor. Now, we do not want to
hear anyone say that the whites are
just as bad. That is begging the
question, granting for the sake of
discussion that this is true we evil
have to admit that it is no excuse
for us Nevertheless, we might argue 
about the truth of that condition. 
White people die, but we
die faster. White people have syphilis 
but we, on a percentage basis
have more. The whites are ill-housed, 
but our ratio is much worse.
So it goes in many other aspects.
These differences are more in degree 
than In kind. Such could well
be the case with liquor. Have you
ever noticed the enormous number
what have you ino darh
of liquor stores, beer parlors, and
what have you in our neighborhood?
The very fact that they stay there
would indicate that they are doing
a profitable business. Furthermore,
our raucous midnight noises, weekend 
brawls, cuttings, shootings and
arrests seem to be "prima Facie"
evidence that these Negroes have
imbibed of strong drink not wisely,
but all too well.
Again we would like to remind
you of the fact that the South is
outwardly dry. The North is nowhere 
near the equal of the South
in this respect. Why? I learned
from an English writer that prohibition 
was always more popular
in the South than in the North because 
the lust has always had a
larger populations. The writer in
question went on to clinch his case
by saying that the southern white
man did not object to liquor for
himself, but that he was determined
to kep it from the Negro. He also 
added that a white man in
drink is one thing, but a drunken
Negro is another. This is mentioned
to call attention to the fact that
Dr. Lee is by no means the only
one who thinks as he does on that
score. Is liquor that great an evil
for us? OUTLINE OF SOCIOLOGY 
by Blackmail and Gillin
says: "Alcohol seems to paralyze
the higher inhibitory brain centers
and thereby favors the formation
of habits clearly anti-social in their
results It seems to incie brutal
and lustful passions at the same
time that it perverts judgement. Socially 
it seems to stimulate fellowship, 
for drinking is closely connected 
with love of compainionship.
Nevertheless, it makes for lawlessness 
and the breaking up of society
into antagonistic groups by its close
alliance often, especially in temperance 
countries, with criminal
groups. Alcohol is ever indissolubly
finked with anti-social and vicious
activities Without a doubt, from the
standpoint of social degeneration,
drunkenness bears a heavy share
of responsibility."
Moreover, INTRODUCTORY SOCIOLOGY 
by Sutherland and
Woodard says. "Toxins which are
introduced into the system from the
outside, such as alcohol, morphine,

cocaine and lead, may also interfere 
seriously with normal functioning. 
The so-called alcoholic psychosis 
in 1936 accounted for five
percent of all admissions to state
hospitals in the United States."
Again Emerson wrote, "Dreams
and drunkenness, the use of opium
and alcohol are the semblance and
counterfeit of this oracular genius,
life by abandonment and hence
their reason, they ask of wild passions, 
as in gaming and war, to aid
in some manner these flames and
generosities of the heart."
Finally we would like to state
that it does not take a Solomon to
realize that money spent for liquor
cannot, be used for the welfare of
the family Money goes for liquor.
Liquor is associated with personality 
disorganization.
That induces inefficiency in industry, 
which in turn diminishes
ones competitive ability. This begets
more frustration, which in turn sells
more liquor This then is your vicious 
circle. This leads ultimately
to undue poverty and dependence
Again was ask, is liquor an evil to
us? We are not prepared to say
categoricaly which of the two evils
under consideration is the greater,
but we do no on record as taking
the stand that liquor is an enemy
of too formidable size to be ignored. 
For that reason, we should take
advantage of the fact that Dr Lee
attacks us on that point. It seems
evident that we are vulnerable
there Otherwise, he would not
have seized upon the opportunity
to strike us in that spot Let us then
be sensible enough to use his attack 
for Self-improvement

BLOOD on the STARS
by BRETT HALLIDAY

"I'M TELLING YOU," said
Blacks doggedly, "I never been
inside this building before. You
can see neither one of them identified 
me."
"There's a side entrance and
stairs," Shayne said shortly. He
stopped in front of his door and
Knocked. It was opened by a tall
young man wearing tee natty uniform 
of the Miami police force.
He had his service revolver in his
hand, and at peered out suspiciously 
until be recognized the
redhead.
"It's you, Mr. Shayne I'm Edmund. 
I had orders to admit no
one but you." He stood aside and
the two men entered.
Miss Naylor sat in front of the
card-littered, center table. She
looked at prim and efficient and
wide awake as when Shayne left.
She said, "The patient hat been
quiet all s night, Mr. Shayne. I'm
sure she's going to make a splendid 
recovery."
"That's fine." To Blackie he
said, "Pull up a chair and I'll pour
some drinks. Will you have one,
Edmund? Miss Naylor?"
"No thanks," said Miss Naylor.
"I'm not allowed to drink on
duly."
Blackie sat down in the middle
of the couch, holding himself erect,
has hinds folded in his lap. Shayne
went to the liquor cabinet and
asked. "Cognac or whiskey?"
"I really can't lake anything."
Edmunds told him. "I was ordered 
to stay on guard here
until...
"Until I returned and took over, "
said Shayne cheerfully. "You're off
duty at of this moment." He
brought out the cognac and three
glasses.
"I suppose your return does relieve 
me, but I couldn't take a
drink this lime of morning." Edmund 
turned to Miss Naylor and
said. "We'd better settle up our
gin rummy accounts and then I'll
be getting along."
"I've added it." she told him
"Three dollars and twenty-eight
cents."
While Edmund was settling his
debt. Shayne poured two drinks
and handed one to Blackie, then
moved across the room and sank
into a chair.
"Well, I'll be going," the young
officer said. "I hope the young
lady will be all right."
Shayne nodded "Thanks for
sticking around." He frowned and
said. "Wait a minute, Edmund
About that phone call. The—one
asking about the omelet. Think
you would recognize the voice if

you beard it again?"
"Why. . . I'm not aura. Over a
telephone I might. It wasn't particularly 
distinctive."
"Anything like mine?" Shayne
asked. "Or more in lint with Mr.
Diffingham's s voice." He nodded to
Blackie.
Edmund's smooth brow rumpled. 
"I don't believe I've heard
Mr. Diffington say anything."
"Diffingham," Shayne corrected.
"Say something for him Diffy," he
urged.
Blackie said gruffly, "Looks like
a nice morning.
Edmund thought for a moment,
then said, "It was more like his
. . . but not exactly. It would be
easier to Judge over a telephone."
"Maybe I can arrange that for
you."
"Any time," said Edmund. "And
thanks for the game. Mist Naylor, "
he added with a whimsical grin.
He went out and closed the door
softly.
Shayne turned to the nurse.
"How soon will it be tale to waken
Miss Hamilton."
"She's not to be wakened," Miss
Naylor said crisply. She got up
and went into the bedroom, returned 
after hair a minute and
reported, "I think she'll rouse in a
couple of hours. There's really no
hurry, la there?"
"None at all," Shayne said
quickly and neartily. He yawned
expansively, clutching at his sore
stomach muscles. Hit eyes were
heavy and he had difficulty keeping
hit gaze on his prisoner across the
room.
Blackie had the advantage of
him, for he had evidently slept
several hours before Shayne's
foray into the garage. Shayne
thrust himself erect after a time
and said. "Let's whip up a pot of
coffee." He jerked his head toward 
the kitchen and wated for
Blackie to precede him, then followed 
him cut and put on a dripolator 
of coffee. He put a trying
pan over a lighted gas jet, fried
bacon, and when it was crisp look
it out and poured in six eggs
lightly beaten in a bowl.
A few minutes later he placed
three pities of bacon, eggs and
untoasted bread on the table which
Miss Naylor had cleared of playing 
cards. He announced, "Breakfast 
is served."
"I'm starved." Miss Naylor declared. 
"Sit down and I'll bring
the coffee."
After Shayne had eaten his
breakfast leisurely, he felt wide
awake. He smoked a couple of
cigarettes while the nurse cleared
the table, keeping a keen eye on
Blackie as he did so.
Miss Naylor came in after wash
ing the dishes and said. "I'd better
take a look at our patient," and
went into the bedroom. After several 
minutes she returned. "She's
beginning to move restlessly. I
believe she'll be fully awake presently. 
It might reassure her to
see you, Mr. Shayne. Would you
like lo come in?"
Shayne glanced curiously at
Blackie's face as De got up and
went to the bedroom door. Blackie
appeared to nave superb sell controll. 
Not a muscle in his stolid
face betrayed anxiety.
Stopping In the doorway where
he could keep an eye on his prisoner, 
Shayne looked at Lucy. Her
features were calm and peaceful
in the morning light. A curl of
brown hair had detached itself and
lay across her forehead.
Shayne set ms teeth and felt
sweat on the palms of his clenched
hands at he gazed at her. It was
the first time he had consciously
allowed himself to consider how
much her recovery meant lo him.
his gaunt face twitched angrily as
he switched his eyes to the man
whom he was practically certain
was responsible for her condition.
Blackie met his angry gaze with
indifference.
Lucy's brown and bandaged head
moved on the pillow and her long
brown lashes rolled slowly upward
She looked at Shayne and a little
smile cursed her lips. She said.
"Hi," And the syllable sent a rush
of emotion through him.
He said. "Hi. Angel. Take It
easy and don't try lo move. You've
had a pretty rough lime of it."
"It seems... like a nightmare, "
she faltered. "So ... hazy. I did
... talk to you after it happened,
didn't I? Or did I dream that?"
"You didn't dream it. You told
us everything we needed. I've got
a guy here I want you to meet.
Feel up to it?"
"Uh-huh."
"Don't be frightened, now. Just
tell me if you've ever teen him."
Shane Kipped back his coat and
drew the 45, gestured toward
Blackie and said, "Come here and
let the lady look at you."
Miss Naylor gasped audibly at
the sight of the gun. Lucy's eyes
were wide and questioning, but the
faint smile stayed on her lips as
she stared at the doorway.
Blackie got up and lumbered
across the room. He stopped Just
inside the door and looked down
at Lucy.
A frown creased her forehead as
she studied the man, then she said
slowly. "I never... saw him... in
my life... before."


CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
by BRETT HALLIDAY

"I'M TELLING YOU," said
Blacks doggedly, "I never been
inside this building before. You
can see neither one of them identified 
me."
"There's a side entrance and
stairs," Shayne said shortly. He
stopped in front of his door and
Knocked. It was opened by a tall
young man wearing tee natty uniform 
of the Miami police force.
He had his service revolver in his
hand, and at peered out suspiciously 
until be recognized the
redhead.
"It's you, Mr. Shayne I'm Edmund. 
I had orders to admit no
one but you." He stood aside and
the two men entered.
Miss Naylor sat in front of the
card-littered, center table. She
looked at prim and efficient and
wide awake as when Shayne left.
She said, "The patient hat been
quiet all s night, Mr. Shayne. I'm
sure she's going to make a splendid 
recovery."
"That's fine." To Blackie he
said, "Pull up a chair and I'll pour
some drinks. Will you have one,
Edmund? Miss Naylor?"
"No thanks," said Miss Naylor.
"I'm not allowed to drink on
duly."
Blackie sat down in the middle
of the couch, holding himself erect,
has hinds folded in his lap. Shayne
went to the liquor cabinet and
asked. "Cognac or whiskey?"
"I really can't lake anything."
Edmunds told him. "I was ordered 
to stay on guard here
until...
"Until I returned and took over, "
said Shayne cheerfully. "You're off
duty at of this moment." He
brought out the cognac and three
glasses.
"I suppose your return does relieve 
me, but I couldn't take a
drink this lime of morning." Edmund 
turned to Miss Naylor and
said. "We'd better settle up our
gin rummy accounts and then I'll
be getting along."
"I've added it." she told him
"Three dollars and twenty-eight
cents."
While Edmund was settling his
debt. Shayne poured two drinks
and handed one to Blackie, then
moved across the room and sank
into a chair.
"Well, I'll be going," the young
officer said. "I hope the young
lady will be all right."
Shayne nodded "Thanks for
sticking around." He frowned and
said. "Wait a minute, Edmund
About that phone call. The—one
asking about the omelet. Think
you would recognize the voice if

you beard it again?"
"Why. . . I'm not aura. Over a
telephone I might. It wasn't particularly 
distinctive."
"Anything like mine?" Shayne
asked. "Or more in lint with Mr.
Diffingham's s voice." He nodded to
Blackie.
Edmund's smooth brow rumpled. 
"I don't believe I've heard
Mr. Diffington say anything."
"Diffingham," Shayne corrected.
"Say something for him Diffy," he
urged.
Blackie said gruffly, "Looks like
a nice morning.
Edmund thought for a moment,
then said, "It was more like his
. . . but not exactly. It would be
easier to Judge over a telephone."
"Maybe I can arrange that for
you."
"Any time," said Edmund. "And
thanks for the game. Mist Naylor, "
he added with a whimsical grin.
He went out and closed the door
softly.
Shayne turned to the nurse.
"How soon will it be tale to waken
Miss Hamilton."
"She's not to be wakened," Miss
Naylor said crisply. She got up
and went into the bedroom, returned 
after hair a minute and
reported, "I think she'll rouse in a
couple of hours. There's really no
hurry, la there?"
"None at all," Shayne said
quickly and neartily. He yawned
expansively, clutching at his sore
stomach muscles. Hit eyes were
heavy and he had difficulty keeping
hit gaze on his prisoner across the
room.
Blackie had the advantage of
him, for he had evidently slept
several hours before Shayne's
foray into the garage. Shayne
thrust himself erect after a time
and said. "Let's whip up a pot of
coffee." He jerked his head toward 
the kitchen and wated for
Blackie to precede him, then followed 
him cut and put on a dripolator 
of coffee. He put a trying
pan over a lighted gas jet, fried
bacon, and when it was crisp look
it out and poured in six eggs
lightly beaten in a bowl.
A few minutes later he placed
three pities of bacon, eggs and
untoasted bread on the table which
Miss Naylor had cleared of playing 
cards. He announced, "Breakfast 
is served."
"I'm starved." Miss Naylor declared. 
"Sit down and I'll bring
the coffee."
After Shayne had eaten his
breakfast leisurely, he felt wide
awake. He smoked a couple of
cigarettes while the nurse cleared
the table, keeping a keen eye on
Blackie as he did so.
Miss Naylor came in after wash
ing the dishes and said. "I'd better
take a look at our patient," and
went into the bedroom. After several 
minutes she returned. "She's
beginning to move restlessly. I
believe she'll be fully awake presently. 
It might reassure her to
see you, Mr. Shayne. Would you
like lo come in?"
Shayne glanced curiously at
Blackie's face as De got up and
went to the bedroom door. Blackie
appeared to nave superb sell controll. 
Not a muscle in his stolid
face betrayed anxiety.
Stopping In the doorway where
he could keep an eye on his prisoner, 
Shayne looked at Lucy. Her
features were calm and peaceful
in the morning light. A curl of
brown hair had detached itself and
lay across her forehead.
Shayne set ms teeth and felt
sweat on the palms of his clenched
hands at he gazed at her. It was
the first time he had consciously
allowed himself to consider how
much her recovery meant lo him.
his gaunt face twitched angrily as
he switched his eyes to the man
whom he was practically certain
was responsible for her condition.
Blackie met his angry gaze with
indifference.
Lucy's brown and bandaged head
moved on the pillow and her long
brown lashes rolled slowly upward
She looked at Shayne and a little
smile cursed her lips. She said.
"Hi," And the syllable sent a rush
of emotion through him.
He said. "Hi. Angel. Take It
easy and don't try lo move. You've
had a pretty rough lime of it."
"It seems... like a nightmare, "
she faltered. "So ... hazy. I did
... talk to you after it happened,
didn't I? Or did I dream that?"
"You didn't dream it. You told
us everything we needed. I've got
a guy here I want you to meet.
Feel up to it?"
"Uh-huh."
"Don't be frightened, now. Just
tell me if you've ever teen him."
Shane Kipped back his coat and
drew the 45, gestured toward
Blackie and said, "Come here and
let the lady look at you."
Miss Naylor gasped audibly at
the sight of the gun. Lucy's eyes
were wide and questioning, but the
faint smile stayed on her lips as
she stared at the doorway.
Blackie got up and lumbered
across the room. He stopped Just
inside the door and looked down
at Lucy.
A frown creased her forehead as
she studied the man, then she said
slowly. "I never... saw him... in
my life... before."


LINCOLN UNIVERSITY (MO.) ART STUDENT WINS AT MISSOURI
STATE FAIR —
JEFFERSON CITY, Mo. — TED DEAN JOHNSON,
senior art major at Lincoln (Mo.) was awarded the first prize in
oil painting in the Fine Arts competition at the recent annual
Missouri State Fair in Sedolia, Mo.
He won the prize for his large full length portrait of a Mexican 
girl entitled "In the Patio." The painting is done in a realistic
manner with nth coloring.
Johnson, a native of Lawton, Oklahoma, and ex-G.I. served
in the Pacific Theatre during World War II.

N.M.A. Requests
Compulsory
Health Insurance
Members 
of the National Medical Association 
had hardly settled in their
seats for the first general meeting
of their 55th convention here last
week at Hampton Institute before
their retiring president, Dr. C.
Herbert Marshall, of Washington,
D. C. flung out ii challenge for the
medical profession lo support national 
compulsory health insurance
More than 1000 NMA and Women's 
Auxiliary member, were registered, 
according to early estimates
Calling such insurance "the great
question before the profession today." 
Dr. Mikhail asserted:
"It is silly for any of us of the
NMA to look at this question from
any angle other than that of the
American Negro. . . An inspection
tour of Washington and throughout
the South would prepare you well
to decide what is best for the Negro 
population, physicians included.
"Voluntary health insurance will
be just as unsuccessful in adequately 
meeting the medical needs of our
people as voluntary enlistment in
the armed forces in time, of war
I regard the element of compulsion
as absolutely essential if we are to
reach the highest index of health
in this country."
The question of whether such insurance 
should be governmental, he
admitted, "should be given, further
study," but he thought the Negro
would be at a disadvantage under
any privately supported scheme.
Dr. Marshall made it clear, however, 
that he did not identify compulsory 
insurance, even that enforced 
by law, as "socialized medicine." 
He expressed himself as "unalterably 
opposed" to the latter,
primarily because it destroys "that
sacred human relationship between
the patient and the physician."
Speaking on the same program
with the dean of the Harvard
School of Public Health, Brig. Gen.
James S. Simmons (U. S. Army,
retired), Dr. Marshall complimented 
American medicine on a "tremendously 
efficient Job of research,
but was less impressed with its work
is disseminating health knowledge
and added that it had done "a very
poor job in the distribution of medical 
care."

Mothers Use Fish
Poles To Direct
School Traffic
A group
of Des Moines mothers, irked by
lack of police protection for their
children at a heavily traveled
school crossing, yesterday armed
themselves with fish poles to form

a volunteer safety patrol.
The "fish pole patrol" went into 
action near Monroe Grade
School as the children began returning 
home from the first day of
school this term.
They hung red bandannas on the
long bamboo poles and lowered
them across the street, route of two
highways and heavy city traffic, to
form a protected crossing for the
youngsters.
Mrs. M. K. Johnson, President
of the Monroe Parent-Teacher?
Association, said the group would
visit the police traffic division today 
to make another appeal for a
traffic officer at the crossing.
Police officials said a patrol car
had been assigned to cover several 
schools in the area.

MART OF THOUGHT
Out in the neighborhood where
Hill Cottage (my suburban retreat)
is located, telephones are few and
one has no preference of party
Mine of course Is a white family
that lives about a block away. I met
the mistress of the household In a
strange sort of way. It happened
during the Ice storm this past winter, 
and it was this crisis that paved 
the way for our shortlived association. 

The electric wires went down
early in the morning and as we both
cook with electricity, my neighbor
called to ask if our service had been
interrupted, and what we were going 
to do about breakfast. Our
household was in a quandry; but
my mother, ingenious creature that
she is, frying bacon over a charcoal 
bucket. I passed this suggustion 
on to my neighbor, and for two
days there after, we exchanged our
ways and means. . . . .then the
telephone wires broke under the
weight of the ice and our confabs
ceased.
A week later, when the linemen
began working, the telephone
would ring at intervals. No calls
were coming through, but there was
a jingling. Even through a telephone 
can be a nuisance sometimes,
there is something ominous about
a dead instrument. You live in constant 
fear of emergencies in the
night, when our contact is broken.
So eager were we to have a grocer,
a doctor, an ambulance, or a friend
at our fingertip again, that each
time it made the slightest noise, we
snatched the instrument from its
cradle and said "hello," then waited
breathlessly. Sometimes the repairmen 
said "testing." but most
times it would be the voice of the
party who was Just as anxious as
we were for the restoration of service. 
We chatted at length, each
making a guess about when the
lines would be upagain. You can
see how we became quite friendly
and after the telephones were working 
again, we coded each other to
exchange receipes and shrubbery
cuttings.
Monday being a holiday, and I,
home from the office, decided it
was a good day to store vegetables
in the home freezer. I strolled
the field to gather corn, peas, beans
and greens. My neighbor was in the
joining field, and we leaned on the
fence for a chat. The Korean affair 
was uppermost in her mind because 
of her son's eligibility for the
draft and the news was not favorable 
that morning. The thing which
worried her most was the manure
of American soldiers. I quite frankly 
told her that I knew exactly how
she felt, because I remember well
how horrified I was when at the
tender age of ten, I listened to my
family and friends tell of how a
young man I knew on sight, was
dragged through the streets and
mobbed by a large group of men.
Hearing of other atrocities over a
period of years has tempered by
reactions and to me, the Korean
incident was "just another lynching." 
She continued to talk in the
same friendly manner, but the subject 
was changed as tactfully as possible 
(by her), and I wonder if I
have lost a friend.
I believe that God will have c
passion on the people who are 
posed to the terrors of invasion and
If their liberty is lost to the oppressor. 
I hope their spirit and hope
will not be broken. God is not unaware 
of the grief and perils of
peoples and nations; the sighing
and suffering of prisoners; the
necessities of the homeless; the
pains of the wounded; the sorrow?
of the bereaved and the helplessness
of the weak, and he will comfort
and relieve them. When liberty and
free choice have been denied, and
wanton cruelty has held away for as
long as I can remember, my faith
would be fleeting indeed if I did
not believe that unseen forces are
mans haled in the defense of all
long-suffering people.




LOOKINC THINCS OVER
By HELEN CALDWELL DAY
"This old world is a funny old
world." Really, it is. Every day
we can read in the papers a long
winded editorial or article, to advocate 
or support universal Military 
Training in peace time, the
idea being that if we will only stay
prepared for war we can have
peace.
That seems a
funny way of
reasoning. As my
friend, Peter Ma
uria says "They
are Increasing ar
maments in the
fallicious hope
that they will
preserve peace by
preparing for war.
Before 1914 (or
1941) they prepared 
for war and got it. Nations
have too long prepared for war. It
is about time they perpare for
peace." (The parethetical numeral
is my own).
Of course, it is harder to prepare
for peace than for war, since war
as a soloution to problems is only
admission of failure In the greater
thing; you have to learn humility
before you can even try the other
ways of settling differences between
people or nations.
Ruark in several of his articles

has pointed out the necessary brutality 
and inhumanity of the profusion 
soldier. He does not condemn
these things, but unlike so many
of our idealists and dreamers, he
sees that there can be no softness,
fairplay nor charity in war nor in
the men thoroughly trained for it.
For that reason he advocates a sort
of universal or national organization
like the notorious Foreign, Legion,
approving all its evils as necessary.
Least of all one like this. I don't
(think universal military training
is necessary either. Maybe, I'm
stupid, but I just don't see the logic
(or the possibility) of preparing for
war to preserve peace. It does see
to me the only way to preserve
peace is to prepare for war before,
and they had war everytime. People 
have hestitated to prepare too
well for peace out fear that others
may not be also preparing for
peace.
We know that we must preserve
a world where a Christian society
is possible, but we have wrongly
supposed that christanity is essentially 
a weak and sickly thing which
can only be preserved by building
and using more and more unchristain 
weapons and preparing men to
kill each other In time of peace.
If christanity were that weak and
defenseless, it wouldn't be worth
preserving anyway. Despite what
many seem to believe, it doesn't all
depend on us and our feeble inters
est in the Christian theory of life
Our part is simply to live as Christians 
should, practicing charity
and mutual aid toward each other,
sharing our abundance of material,
intellectual or spiritual goods with
those whose poverty has denied the
these things Our part is to 
ourselves from hatred, prejudice,
indifference and carelessness toward
our fellows. Our part is to put
away the fear and laziness which
has kept us unactive for so long
and take on our Christian obligations 
of being our brother's keeper,
assisting his need. Our part is to
learn the way of love, of tolerance,
of sharing of helping others.
That is a better way to preserve
peace than universal military training. 


RENT A BRAND NEW
APARTMENT








Some of these beautiful new apartments are
ready now. Bring your deposit and make
application so you can move right in. Ride
the No. 3 Normal Summer bus to Holmes and
walk over to Johnson St., to our rental office.
—oooOOOooo—



YALE APARTMENTS








Some of these beautiful new apartments are
ready now. Bring your deposit and make
application so you can move right in. Ride
the No. 3 Normal Summer bus to Holmes and
walk over to Johnson St., to our rental office.
—oooOOOooo—