Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1955-12-13 Raymond F. Tisby MEMPHIS WORLD The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO. Every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 184 BEALE—Phone 8-4030 Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870 Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott, General Manager Raymond F. Tisby Managing Editor Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy Public Relations and Advertising William C. Weathers Circulation Promotion The MEMPHIS WORLD in an independent newspaper—non-sectarian and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things it believes to be of interest to 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) The Tree Attorney General Cook Planted At Yale It is hardly possible to remain silent and let go unchallenged a statement made by Georgia's Attorney General, Eugene Cook who essays to tell the folks at Yale — that the U. S. Supreme Court decision barring segregation in public schools is held "in utter contempt by most" of his fellow Georgians. Down here in the heart of the question, we cannot assign to whom Mr. Cook refers as most of my fellow Georgians," unless he interprets that segment seating the present administration of which he is a part, comprising only thirty-seven per cent of the votes cast in the last election. Thusly, Mr. Cook plants his tree. That Mr. Cook would so nearly border on defiance and contempt of the court as to say in the face of its directive that the decision be implemented as quickly as possible that "It, (the decision) will not be respected or enforced in my state within the foreseeable future" might be his business personally, we do not feel that he should assume to be speaking for the "most of my fellow Georgians." It is felt, therefore, from this angle that it is high time now that the record deserves justification in what it is called upon to bear, and seeing no other medium than we are now employing, we elect some refutation of what has been carried to the commons of historic Yale by one who assumes to speak for the citizens of this state. In the first place Mr. Cook's reference to the Dred Scott decision is ill-timed and out of line with the question he assumes to justify to Yale. The attorney general stated: "We in Georgia intend to circumvent this decision, and Congress and the people have furnished many precedents for our action. The Fourteenth Amendment, upon which the court's decision rested was itself designed to circumvent the decision of the Supreme Court in the Dred Scott case which held that a Negro was not a citizen." Would not it have been more consistent for Mr. Cook to have stated that the Civil War was the first great act in establishing that the Negro was a citizen? The other great act was the enactment of the 14th Amendment. Does Mr. Cook mean to even infer that he and his followers are capable of bringing about an act in even comparison with either of the two great acts which did not only circumvent but actually nullified the Dred Scott decision? We think not. Under the Constitution of the United States the Supreme Court has the privilege and the responsibility to decide which questions it will consider and its decisions are final as to legality. The Congress has the privilege and right to pass laws, but the Court has the last ward because it has the power to decide legality of the laws passed by the Congress. This being the trunk of the tree Mr. Cook planted in New England, it would hardly be reasonable nor profitable to bother with the limbs and branches of his argument, as we are willing to rest our case upon the assumption that these, will "fall with the tree." However, it might be advanced, from Mr. Cook's own hypothesis, in his attack on the 14th Amendment, he bordered on attacking the Constitution of the United States itself — and while this might be his personal right under free speech, being a public official, his listening public should be alerted to the acute analysis upon which the denominator of "most of my fellow Georgians" is founded, and the ambiguity in the contrast of his perspection in the Dred Scott decision. Yes, at the most, Mr. Cook can only speak for 37 per cent of the Voters because this is the number which voted for the present administration. At least Let Us Pass Once A Year To Bring The Old World Christmas Cheer The annual call is on again for those generous responses to our Christmas cheer fund. This is a yearly appeal and like others of our charitable projects, is a fixture in our Christian and social realm. As is said of those charitable and religious causes we elect to sponsor, there need be no high pressure salesmanship here. No one is herded in to be urged to make a contribution to what naturally brings joy to the world. Day by day these contributions are coming in, those who all along have sponsored other like causes are on the forefront and it is indeed gratifying to note that every issue is a reenrollment of the old faithfuls. Christmas is a world project. Even in those pagan countries there have never been an absence of Christmas ideals and traditions. Everywhere it is one of those renewal epoch in which relationships are overhauled and a moment is given to spiritual revelations and a re-emphasis of the principles of Jesus Christ and the importance attached to His mission on earth and that crying need of Goodwill to men. In keeping with our loyalty to our fellows, regardless of status or creed, we therefore offer an opportunity for those to tome in and help make this a real Christmas at every hearthstone. Let there be even new ones who never before made such a contribution. Get in as the bin wheel turns and be among those who will shore the Christmas spirit this year. And give generously. The need is still great. Big Prize For The Tax Collector Headlines the country over were made when, for the first time, a contestant on the fabulous TV program, "The $64,000 Question," risked going all the way to win the grand prize. Had the winner, a personable young Marine captain, missed any part of the tough seven-part final question he would have lost the $32,000, less taxes, he had already won. The news reports of this, of course, said that the captain won $64,000. Actually, however, he won $35,000 or less. For the federal income tax will take about $29,000 of the prize and any state income tax will be in addition. The tax collector didn't have to take the big final risk — and he didn't have to possess the remarkable fund of specialized knowledge that made the win possible. But just the same, he will get close to half of the profit! State Safety Director said, "few people are good judges of their own sobriety, so it's wise to leave your car at home when you're ing to any party at which you're likely to be drinking. Puckett also had a word of advice for those planning office parties at which liquor is to be served. His advice was to arrange for largescale taxi service to see guests safely to their doors. REVIEWING THE NEWS By WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World There were many knocks, but this one, which came during that early fall Sunday morning remains vivid until this day. "My name is Barnes," he said, "I live across the yard opposite the dining hall." "My eyes fell upon a slightly gaunt, yet bright-eyed young man who spoke with a distinct Southern accent. I invited him in as he quickly began to apologize for coming without giving me previous notice. I assured him that on this university campus, there existed little formality, and that I had not tried to impose any during my brief stay there. So we talked. He lost no time telling me that he came from the deep South, and of all places, Mississippi. "I learned from friends," he said, "that you are also from the South, and Georgia at that." He moved about nervously but finally came back with this observation: "The South is not all bad," he went on. "There are many people, particularly those among the younger elements, who deplore some of the practices there." He obviously had something oh his mind, and wanted to talk with someone. He needed some support to help play down some of the bad public relations coming out of the region and he thought I could be of some help. "Back in my home, a small back-woods plantation area, there is ignorance — white folks ignorance. It is the kind of ignorance have trouble explaining to people here. But you are sympathetic I know." I tried lo assure him that I would never do anything to hurt the South, for I also realized that much of the South's faults came not from well meaning whites and Negroes, but from ignorance bred and nursed by political dictatorship. I also assured him, and he agreed, that the youth of the South, saw things in a much different light. His face lit up at this statement, and he went on to tell me what a vast difference existed between him and his parents on attitudes. Youth, we agreed, would eventually solve many of the problems — that we must place our stake in the young minds of the South and not with those enslaved with the past. It is my belief that this young man went away a completely different person. He seemed pleased that he had some assurance, that at least here was another person, although coming from a different side of the tracks, still held faith; at least in the young white man of the South. And as I went about with meetings, and various gatherings, I noticed that other young Southerners would always come. They would sit and listen at the criticism poured on the South but would walk out, seemingly proud and thankful that a ray of hope did exist — that it existed in the tender minds of the youths. They seemingly look every opportunity to stand up and be counted among those not linked with the bigotry, the falsified methods of segregations and the puppetry many whites submits themselves to because they happen to be Southerners. They were beyond and above the archaic methods of those who would enslave themselves and the people for the sake of a out-moded pattern. These were youths, real American youths, all knocking at the door of social change, and mind you, they will be heard. Those who refuse to listen are being stupid at their own cost. Youth At The Door Of Social Change By WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World There were many knocks, but this one, which came during that early fall Sunday morning remains vivid until this day. "My name is Barnes," he said, "I live across the yard opposite the dining hall." "My eyes fell upon a slightly gaunt, yet bright-eyed young man who spoke with a distinct Southern accent. I invited him in as he quickly began to apologize for coming without giving me previous notice. I assured him that on this university campus, there existed little formality, and that I had not tried to impose any during my brief stay there. So we talked. He lost no time telling me that he came from the deep South, and of all places, Mississippi. "I learned from friends," he said, "that you are also from the South, and Georgia at that." He moved about nervously but finally came back with this observation: "The South is not all bad," he went on. "There are many people, particularly those among the younger elements, who deplore some of the practices there." He obviously had something oh his mind, and wanted to talk with someone. He needed some support to help play down some of the bad public relations coming out of the region and he thought I could be of some help. "Back in my home, a small back-woods plantation area, there is ignorance — white folks ignorance. It is the kind of ignorance have trouble explaining to people here. But you are sympathetic I know." I tried lo assure him that I would never do anything to hurt the South, for I also realized that much of the South's faults came not from well meaning whites and Negroes, but from ignorance bred and nursed by political dictatorship. I also assured him, and he agreed, that the youth of the South, saw things in a much different light. His face lit up at this statement, and he went on to tell me what a vast difference existed between him and his parents on attitudes. Youth, we agreed, would eventually solve many of the problems — that we must place our stake in the young minds of the South and not with those enslaved with the past. It is my belief that this young man went away a completely different person. He seemed pleased that he had some assurance, that at least here was another person, although coming from a different side of the tracks, still held faith; at least in the young white man of the South. And as I went about with meetings, and various gatherings, I noticed that other young Southerners would always come. They would sit and listen at the criticism poured on the South but would walk out, seemingly proud and thankful that a ray of hope did exist — that it existed in the tender minds of the youths. They seemingly look every opportunity to stand up and be counted among those not linked with the bigotry, the falsified methods of segregations and the puppetry many whites submits themselves to because they happen to be Southerners. They were beyond and above the archaic methods of those who would enslave themselves and the people for the sake of a out-moded pattern. These were youths, real American youths, all knocking at the door of social change, and mind you, they will be heard. Those who refuse to listen are being stupid at their own cost. CAPITOL SPOTLIGHT Two of the five representatives the United States will send to the inauguration on January 2 of President William V. Tubman for another four-year term will be Mrs. Robert L. Vann of the Pittsburgh Courier and Asa Spaulding, vice president and actuary of the North Carolina Mutual Insurance Company, Durham. Mr. Tubman was elected in 1943 for an 8-year term, reelected in 1951 for a 4-year term, and again in 1955 for a 4-year term. He figures to beat the longevity record of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was elected President of the United States four times and served only about a month over twelve years. Washington hears that nearly every college president from the District of Columbia to Texas sought to be one of the official representatives of the United, States at Mr. Tubman's inauguration. Also making bids were several women's organizations. There was nothing bashful about the persons who wanted the honor. They wrote the State DeDepartment and buttonholed anybody they thought could further their ambition. One of the five representatives will be an Army or Navy or Air Force officer. Another will be a State Department Representative. The fifth selection is yet to be announced. One of the factors which eliminated most of the candidates was the ability to afford the high cost representation of the United States or any other Government will cost. As representatives of the United States, Mrs. Vann Mr. Spaulding and the other members of the mission will be flow from the United States to Monrovia and back in a Government plane and all the expenses of their travel. Including hotel accommodations, will be borne by the Unite States. But liberian protocol, the official rules for the inaugural ceremonies and State social affairs, require certain dress which it was felt that not all of the candidates could afford. Dress for Mrs. Vann will be no problem. All she reeds to carry is a sufficient number of evening cresses, which she already has but will probably buy a few new ones. It was suggested, however that she might find a pair of tennis shoes useful during her stay in Liberia. The dress problem is Mr. Spaulding's. It addition to a morning coat and striped trousers tails, and a white tie, and a tuxedo and black tie, he will be required to have an Ascot suit. The Ascot suit presumably takes its name from that fancy dress worn by English gentlemen at the famous race course and horse races at Ascot Health, in Berkshire, Eng land. The Ascot suit will cost $300 to be tailored, if one is rented in England and shipped to Monrovia the cost will be not less than $80. If one is rented from England, it will be necessary to send the size clothes you wear, your sleeve length, your in-seam, waist and and hat sizes. No one is supposed to attend the Tubman inauguration without an Ascot suit. But unofficial guests without them will be tolerated. In England the Ascot suit is worn on four occasions: At the races during Ascot week in June at garden parties of the Queen, on certain occasions in the House of Commons or House or Lords, and when the Church of England is having some high celebration but always when the King or Queen is going to be present. The hat which goes with the Ascot suit will cost $25. It is a stove-pipe gray hat, matching the suit in color. Guests who are attending the inauguration are being advised that it is better to have an Ascot suit made than to rent one. Ascot suits in England are made from heavy cloth because of the damp, cold weather there. A tailored suit can be made put of thin material to suit the hot climate visits will find in Monrovia. When Mr. Spaulding was notifleet of his selection and told of the protocol requirements, he said he would have an Ascot suit made. He came to Washington Friday for measurements. The only tailor here who makes them is an Englishman who serves his lodshlp at the British Tsbassy. Negro Loan Ass'n. Nabors, Dr. W. H. Young, Dr. W. O. Speight. Sr., George Stevens and Lewis H. Twigg. The new association will make the fourth Negro owned financial institution to provide the Memphis Neqro with home loans. The others are Union Protective Assurance Company, Universal Life Insurance Cobpanv and the Tri-State, Bank. The organization will operate primarily in Memphis and Shelby County, with the possibility of some activity in West Memphis (Ark.) and Crittenden county and the bor dering Mississippi counties. The new savings and loan association expects topay dividends at current rate of 3 per cent and all deposits up to $10,000 will be insured by the FDIC. Leaders Continue Protests Against Montgomery Bus Co. A crowd estimated at 5,000 Monday night which overflowed the Holt Street Baptist Church pastored by the Rev. A. W. Wilson and poured into the surrounding streets, heard oratory from a trio of distinguished ministers promise leadership that would keep them from being "trampled by the iron feet of oppression." The crowd came there to "get further instructions" for withholding patronage from the bus line in mass protest growing out of the Nov. 1 arrest of Mrs. Rosa Park, seamstress, church worker and civic leader. The protest was also expanded to include Fred Daniels, a 19-year-old student of Alabama State College, who was reportedly arrested Dec. 5 on charges of allegedly trying to prevent a woman rom catching the bus. Dr. Martin Luther King, the Phddegree pastor of fashionable Dexter Avenue Baptist Church presided and delivered the keynote address. The audience sang "Onward Christian Soldiers" and "Leaning on the Everlasting Arm" to open the meeting. The Rev. A. W. Alford, pastor, of Pilgrim Baptist Church, offered the prayer and, the Rev. U. J. Fields, pastor of Bell Street Baptist Church, read the 34th Psalms as the scripture lesson. The Rev. King, in stating the purpose of the meeting, described it as "serious business" growing out of a determination as "American citizens to exercise our citizenship to the fullness of its meaning." He said the time had come to take the idea of freedom from "thin paper to thick action." We have come he declared, "to get this bus situation corrected." He asserted that the alleged mistreatment-on-buses problem had "existed over endless years" and created "a paralysis which is crippling the spirit." "There comes a time when people get tired of being trampled by the iron feet of oppression," he asserted. The eloquent Dr. King then riddled what he called the erronous version of the incident. "There is no reserved section on the bus." (Stories published in the general press slid that, Mrs. Parks would not surrender her seat and move back into the colored section of the bus when the bus driver instructed her to do so.) He said legal scholars had informed him that the Montgomery bus seating law had never been clarified. He then mentioned the circumstances under which "this fine, Christian woman of integrity and character was arrested and carried to jail." Dr. King urged the group "to work together and stick together." He said there was coming "a daybreak of justice, freedom and equality." He added, "Justice is love in calculation." He asserted they were ready to use the 'tools' of persuasion although there comes a time when legislation and coercion have to be used. "Work and fight until justice runs down like water," he urged but perform peacefully, within the law and as law-abiding citizens, he counselled. "In all of our actions we must stick together," he warned. "Unity" Dr. King admonished hishearers was the key to success. He declared the group's leadership was determined "to gain justice on the buses of the city (of Montgomery.") Bitterly he assailed those who would compare their techniques with the KKK and WCC. He said there had not been and there would not be any (1) cross-burnings, (2) no lynchings, (3) no defying the constitution of the nation, (4) no violence and no (5) attack on the United States Supreme Court. About one-fifth of the nation's college graduates now become teachers. Daniel J. Tobin, former president of the Teamsters Union, AFL, dies at the age of 83. DR. KING SPEAKS A crowd estimated at 5,000 Monday night which overflowed the Holt Street Baptist Church pastored by the Rev. A. W. Wilson and poured into the surrounding streets, heard oratory from a trio of distinguished ministers promise leadership that would keep them from being "trampled by the iron feet of oppression." The crowd came there to "get further instructions" for withholding patronage from the bus line in mass protest growing out of the Nov. 1 arrest of Mrs. Rosa Park, seamstress, church worker and civic leader. The protest was also expanded to include Fred Daniels, a 19-year-old student of Alabama State College, who was reportedly arrested Dec. 5 on charges of allegedly trying to prevent a woman rom catching the bus. Dr. Martin Luther King, the Phddegree pastor of fashionable Dexter Avenue Baptist Church presided and delivered the keynote address. The audience sang "Onward Christian Soldiers" and "Leaning on the Everlasting Arm" to open the meeting. The Rev. A. W. Alford, pastor, of Pilgrim Baptist Church, offered the prayer and, the Rev. U. J. Fields, pastor of Bell Street Baptist Church, read the 34th Psalms as the scripture lesson. The Rev. King, in stating the purpose of the meeting, described it as "serious business" growing out of a determination as "American citizens to exercise our citizenship to the fullness of its meaning." He said the time had come to take the idea of freedom from "thin paper to thick action." We have come he declared, "to get this bus situation corrected." He asserted that the alleged mistreatment-on-buses problem had "existed over endless years" and created "a paralysis which is crippling the spirit." "There comes a time when people get tired of being trampled by the iron feet of oppression," he asserted. The eloquent Dr. King then riddled what he called the erronous version of the incident. "There is no reserved section on the bus." (Stories published in the general press slid that, Mrs. Parks would not surrender her seat and move back into the colored section of the bus when the bus driver instructed her to do so.) He said legal scholars had informed him that the Montgomery bus seating law had never been clarified. He then mentioned the circumstances under which "this fine, Christian woman of integrity and character was arrested and carried to jail." Dr. King urged the group "to work together and stick together." He said there was coming "a daybreak of justice, freedom and equality." He added, "Justice is love in calculation." He asserted they were ready to use the 'tools' of persuasion although there comes a time when legislation and coercion have to be used. "Work and fight until justice runs down like water," he urged but perform peacefully, within the law and as law-abiding citizens, he counselled. "In all of our actions we must stick together," he warned. "Unity" Dr. King admonished hishearers was the key to success. He declared the group's leadership was determined "to gain justice on the buses of the city (of Montgomery.") Bitterly he assailed those who would compare their techniques with the KKK and WCC. He said there had not been and there would not be any (1) cross-burnings, (2) no lynchings, (3) no defying the constitution of the nation, (4) no violence and no (5) attack on the United States Supreme Court. About one-fifth of the nation's college graduates now become teachers. Daniel J. Tobin, former president of the Teamsters Union, AFL, dies at the age of 83. Know Your Library BY MAUDDEAN SEWARD —Keble. Peter comes nearer to us than any of his brother Apostles. We revere James, the brother of our Lord, for his austere saintliness. We strain our eyes in the effort to follow John to the serene heights, whither his eagle-wing bore him. But Peter is so human, so like ourselves in his downsittings and Uprisings, so compassed with infirmity, that we are encouraged to hope that perhaps the Great Potter may be able to make something even of our common clay. When walking over his farmstead with a friend, the author came on a field, which on a former visit apneared to be choked with thistles. He had bought it at a cheap rate because of its derelict condition. But it had been carefully drained and enriched. Much care and science had been expended on it, and to his friend's surprise a rich crop of clover resulted. The long-buried seed had ain starved and hopeless in the soil till the rich culture had called it into evidence. It needed the Saviour's insight to discover an Apostle in Simon Bar-jona, the fisherman; and the Saviour's patient culture to elicit the dormant qualities of his character, which speaks in every paragraph of his Epistles, and fitted him to be the leader of the Primitive Church. But if the Master could do so much for him. What may He not effect, my readers, for you and me? Call by the Vance Avenue Branch of the Cossit Library today and call for your copy of PETER by F. B. Mever. Please read carefully the chapter which tells you of Peter's Early Days In the Master's College. Memphis Area News on the Handy Theatre stage at 7:30 p. m. Director of the Charitable affair is Miss Geraldine Burke, of St. Augustine music department. This is Miss Burke's second year as director. Various acts will be featured in the show which will be highlighted by the clowning of an adult queen and a junior king and queen. Raymon Lynom, council president, said vets for Kennedy. VA hospital will be admitted free Admission to the affair is 50 cents for adults and 25 cents for children. The Parent Teacher Association of the Lutheran Cooperative School held its annual Fall P-TA Sunday afternoon, Dec. 11, at 4:30 p. m. in the school auditorium. The Yuletide spirit was manifest in the decorations a d theme. Appearing on the program were Miss J. Sessions, Mrs. G. Isabel; Mrs. P. R. Walker, Sammye Lynom, Mrs. G. Henry, the school choir, Elizabeth Thompson, Bonnie, M, Little, Olivet special group and Mrs. G.W. Barnett Lutheran Coop P-TA president who gave the remarks. Mrs. Barnett is serving her third year as president. Electrical decorations and table service were furnish ed by Mrs. Rosa Warf Sneed, Mrs. Barnett's mother, The Rev. J. L. Skinner is school principal. LUTHERAN COOP P-TA HOLDS ANNUAL FALL TEA SUNDAY on the Handy Theatre stage at 7:30 p. m. Director of the Charitable affair is Miss Geraldine Burke, of St. Augustine music department. This is Miss Burke's second year as director. Various acts will be featured in the show which will be highlighted by the clowning of an adult queen and a junior king and queen. Raymon Lynom, council president, said vets for Kennedy. VA hospital will be admitted free Admission to the affair is 50 cents for adults and 25 cents for children. The Parent Teacher Association of the Lutheran Cooperative School held its annual Fall P-TA Sunday afternoon, Dec. 11, at 4:30 p. m. in the school auditorium. The Yuletide spirit was manifest in the decorations a d theme. Appearing on the program were Miss J. Sessions, Mrs. G. Isabel; Mrs. P. R. Walker, Sammye Lynom, Mrs. G. Henry, the school choir, Elizabeth Thompson, Bonnie, M, Little, Olivet special group and Mrs. G.W. Barnett Lutheran Coop P-TA president who gave the remarks. Mrs. Barnett is serving her third year as president. Electrical decorations and table service were furnish ed by Mrs. Rosa Warf Sneed, Mrs. Barnett's mother, The Rev. J. L. Skinner is school principal. UNFINISHED CRIME SARA rounded the last corner and began to run toward the doorway she had left only a few moments ago. Judith's apartment Run up just one flight and call the precinct from there. But if the impostor were still with Judith? What was his relation to her? Did she really believe he was Gerry Hone? Sara looked up at Judith's windows. Dark. Had she gone out to dine with the impostor? The top floor was dark, too. The only lights in the building were the hall lights and the single lamp Sara had left burning in her own apartment when she ran out. She came to the door panting. As she got the key from her handbag, she looked back again. The street behind her was empty. The crowd oh Madison must have slowed him down. She unlocked the door, leaped inside and slammed it behind her. Then she remembered the skylight on the root, so easily reached through the house next door. She must get upstairs to her own apartment at once. Her breath came in short, hard gasps. There was a searing stitch in her side. She looked at the fire stairs and her strength failed. She was utterly winded. She knew she couldn't go up those two flights fast enough. This was one time when she could not let a fanciful fear of automatic elevators throw her into a danger that was real and deadly. She walked into the elevator and stabbed one finger at the button marked "3." Ponderously the double doors slid together and she was sealed inside the windowless cell alone. Slowly with a slight tremor the elevator began to rise. She could hear the faint whirring of the mechanism. Once more she went through her ritual of reassuring herself. It's all right. These elevators are made with precision They've been in use everywhere for years. When you get to the third floor this one will stop, as it always does, and the doors will open, as they always do. How other people would laugh at you If they knew you felt this way... Miraculously, for the first time, she really made herself believe what she was saying. The new, real danger of a murderer without seemed to dissolve the old, vague terror from within that was not real at all, but a miasma rising from her own uncertainties and insecurities. And then the lights went out The whirring noise stopped. The elevator, stood still and there was grinding of doors sliding back. Blinded by sudden darkness, she put out her hands and felt the doors, solid, tightly locked by the safety mechanism that kept them immovable between floors. She clawed at the metal edges of the crack where they met and her nails broke. She hurled herself against the heavy, steel and the doors did hot even tremble. The terror within and the terror without flowed together, overwhelming her between them as they became one. Perhaps they had always been one. Perhaps the fanciful terror was simply a prescience of the real terror that had always been waiting for her at this particular point in time. She screamed and screamed ... The screams exhausted her. She sank on her knees, nails scraping the smooth, painted metal of-the door. She sat on her heels, head burled in her arms, numb, depleted. After the paroxysm, came lethargy; then, slowly, the rebirth of courage, a tremulous, tentative revival of nerve. Nerve fails most often when evil is anticipated. Once it has struck, it is no longer a mystery and loses half Its terror. Man probably owes survival to the second courage that is like second wind, the hopeless courage that lies beyond despair. Silence, darkness, a vacuum. No movement and so, no time. Had she been crouching for seconds, minutes, hours? She had no idea. In the stillness, gradually, she became conscious of her own heartbeats, her own breathing. That was motion, time, life. She willed herself to breathe slowly, to think calmly and clearly. Panic was a luxury that could destroy her. Only a cool head might save her. But how? The idiot voice of fear was still speaking in her brain, a soft rapid whisper, articulate as the real voice of another person. You can't, get out, you know. The doors are locked and the elevator has stopped between floors. There is no one else in the building. No one can hear you scream. If you find the call button in the darkness, no one will hear it ring. Judith is out. The young man with net is gone, too. They may not return till Monday morning. Is there enough air in this dark cell to keep you alive till then? Ten cubic feet, 12, whatever it is—how long can you live on that? Have you any idea? Air grilles in the roof? Are you sure about them? Think again. Have you ever looked to see? If you light a match to look now even its tiny flame will burn up a little of the oxygen you will soon need desperately. What can you do, but sit here in darkness and stillness and wait for slow, drowsy death? The more you cry and struggle, the more deeply you breathe, the more air you exhaust. The words were still soft and rapid, but they were more distinct, now. With a shattering sense pf shock, she realized that this was not the voice of stillness in her own brain, It was a real voice. Someone, outside the crack where the elevator doors joined, was speaking in a low, lightly breathed tone Just above a whisper, It was not blind, unfeeling mechanism that had trapped her, but human foresight and malice. The humanization of her enemy stimulated her reborn courage. A machine was something you couldn't fight without descending to the futility of the small boy who kicks the chair because he bumps into it. But another human being can be tricked, maneuvered, outwilted. The voice was unaccented, sexless, almost as soundless as thought itself. No wonder, she had mistaken it for thought in the first moment of collapse. "You are doomed, Sara I didn't forget the air grilles. They are air-tight now—sealed with Scotch tape. You will die here, like a mouse in a trap unless release you. And I can do it easily—just by pulling the master switch, That's how I trapped you, you know. I shut oft the electricity. Only I can turn it on again now. There's no one else here. And I'll do it—if you'll do one thing for me. Tell me where the ruby pendant is now." "How do I know you will release me, once you know where the ruby is?" It was the first answer she had made. There was silence for moment, then an oily chuckle, revolting in its inappropriate glee. But the voice was still soft, just above a whisper, almost without expression. "That's a chance you have to take, Sara. But, it's better than no chance at all isn't it? Did you ever see the body of a person dead from asphyxiation? Not a pretty sight ... Come now, you'll have to ten me. Time is running out. Each breath you draw brings your last breath nearer. It may coma quite suddenly, you know. The choking breathlessness, then lassitude ... There's no knowing Just how far you're gone now. All that screaming and pounding must have used up a lot of air. Are you getting sleepy? Think. At any moment the next breath you take may be your last conscious breath. ... Hurry. While there's still a chance for me to save you. Isn't, your life worth more than a ruby?" CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR SARA rounded the last corner and began to run toward the doorway she had left only a few moments ago. Judith's apartment Run up just one flight and call the precinct from there. But if the impostor were still with Judith? What was his relation to her? Did she really believe he was Gerry Hone? Sara looked up at Judith's windows. Dark. Had she gone out to dine with the impostor? The top floor was dark, too. The only lights in the building were the hall lights and the single lamp Sara had left burning in her own apartment when she ran out. She came to the door panting. As she got the key from her handbag, she looked back again. The street behind her was empty. The crowd oh Madison must have slowed him down. She unlocked the door, leaped inside and slammed it behind her. Then she remembered the skylight on the root, so easily reached through the house next door. She must get upstairs to her own apartment at once. Her breath came in short, hard gasps. There was a searing stitch in her side. She looked at the fire stairs and her strength failed. She was utterly winded. She knew she couldn't go up those two flights fast enough. This was one time when she could not let a fanciful fear of automatic elevators throw her into a danger that was real and deadly. She walked into the elevator and stabbed one finger at the button marked "3." Ponderously the double doors slid together and she was sealed inside the windowless cell alone. Slowly with a slight tremor the elevator began to rise. She could hear the faint whirring of the mechanism. Once more she went through her ritual of reassuring herself. It's all right. These elevators are made with precision They've been in use everywhere for years. When you get to the third floor this one will stop, as it always does, and the doors will open, as they always do. How other people would laugh at you If they knew you felt this way... Miraculously, for the first time, she really made herself believe what she was saying. The new, real danger of a murderer without seemed to dissolve the old, vague terror from within that was not real at all, but a miasma rising from her own uncertainties and insecurities. And then the lights went out The whirring noise stopped. The elevator, stood still and there was grinding of doors sliding back. Blinded by sudden darkness, she put out her hands and felt the doors, solid, tightly locked by the safety mechanism that kept them immovable between floors. She clawed at the metal edges of the crack where they met and her nails broke. She hurled herself against the heavy, steel and the doors did hot even tremble. The terror within and the terror without flowed together, overwhelming her between them as they became one. Perhaps they had always been one. Perhaps the fanciful terror was simply a prescience of the real terror that had always been waiting for her at this particular point in time. She screamed and screamed ... The screams exhausted her. She sank on her knees, nails scraping the smooth, painted metal of-the door. She sat on her heels, head burled in her arms, numb, depleted. After the paroxysm, came lethargy; then, slowly, the rebirth of courage, a tremulous, tentative revival of nerve. Nerve fails most often when evil is anticipated. Once it has struck, it is no longer a mystery and loses half Its terror. Man probably owes survival to the second courage that is like second wind, the hopeless courage that lies beyond despair. Silence, darkness, a vacuum. No movement and so, no time. Had she been crouching for seconds, minutes, hours? She had no idea. In the stillness, gradually, she became conscious of her own heartbeats, her own breathing. That was motion, time, life. She willed herself to breathe slowly, to think calmly and clearly. Panic was a luxury that could destroy her. Only a cool head might save her. But how? The idiot voice of fear was still speaking in her brain, a soft rapid whisper, articulate as the real voice of another person. You can't, get out, you know. The doors are locked and the elevator has stopped between floors. There is no one else in the building. No one can hear you scream. If you find the call button in the darkness, no one will hear it ring. Judith is out. The young man with net is gone, too. They may not return till Monday morning. Is there enough air in this dark cell to keep you alive till then? Ten cubic feet, 12, whatever it is—how long can you live on that? Have you any idea? Air grilles in the roof? Are you sure about them? Think again. Have you ever looked to see? If you light a match to look now even its tiny flame will burn up a little of the oxygen you will soon need desperately. What can you do, but sit here in darkness and stillness and wait for slow, drowsy death? The more you cry and struggle, the more deeply you breathe, the more air you exhaust. The words were still soft and rapid, but they were more distinct, now. With a shattering sense pf shock, she realized that this was not the voice of stillness in her own brain, It was a real voice. Someone, outside the crack where the elevator doors joined, was speaking in a low, lightly breathed tone Just above a whisper, It was not blind, unfeeling mechanism that had trapped her, but human foresight and malice. The humanization of her enemy stimulated her reborn courage. A machine was something you couldn't fight without descending to the futility of the small boy who kicks the chair because he bumps into it. But another human being can be tricked, maneuvered, outwilted. The voice was unaccented, sexless, almost as soundless as thought itself. No wonder, she had mistaken it for thought in the first moment of collapse. "You are doomed, Sara I didn't forget the air grilles. They are air-tight now—sealed with Scotch tape. You will die here, like a mouse in a trap unless release you. And I can do it easily—just by pulling the master switch, That's how I trapped you, you know. I shut oft the electricity. Only I can turn it on again now. There's no one else here. And I'll do it—if you'll do one thing for me. Tell me where the ruby pendant is now." "How do I know you will release me, once you know where the ruby is?" It was the first answer she had made. There was silence for moment, then an oily chuckle, revolting in its inappropriate glee. But the voice was still soft, just above a whisper, almost without expression. "That's a chance you have to take, Sara. But, it's better than no chance at all isn't it? Did you ever see the body of a person dead from asphyxiation? Not a pretty sight ... Come now, you'll have to ten me. Time is running out. Each breath you draw brings your last breath nearer. It may coma quite suddenly, you know. The choking breathlessness, then lassitude ... There's no knowing Just how far you're gone now. All that screaming and pounding must have used up a lot of air. Are you getting sleepy? Think. At any moment the next breath you take may be your last conscious breath. ... Hurry. While there's still a chance for me to save you. Isn't, your life worth more than a ruby?" MY WEEKLY SERMON REV. BLAIR T. HUNT, PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH, MEMPHIS TEXT: "The Lord is good to them that wait." — Lamentations 3:25. "Stand thou still awhile." — Daniel 9:27. Man centuries ago, a soldier, a great general, faced a crisis in his career. He was commander-in-chief of his nation. Any hasty, impetuous action on his part in early days of his kingship might have had disastrous consequences. That soldier was Saul. His adviser was the Prophet Samuel. In the First Book of Samuel, chapter 7, verse 27, Samuel's prescription is preserved. "Stand thou still awhile (wait awhile) that I may show you the word of God." "Wait awhile." urged Samuel of the king. Collect your thoughts ... wait awhile. There is seemingly perpetual motion in your life, but wait awhile ... Too much feverish activity, headaches, et cetera ... making for aspirin, B. C. medication, stanback, and sleeping powders a big market and a ready sale. Yes, too busy chasing the gaudy butterfly of fame and fortune ... reaching for bubbles of pleasure and fun that soon burst. But wait awhile! Jesus was a most busy man. But He held frequent retreats to hills and gardens, and homes ... where He could be still in the vastness of God's peace. He followed the prescription ... "wait awhile!" Wailt awhile to discern God's word. God wants to communicate wtih you ... wait awhile ... and His still, small voice will be heard. Wait awhile for your own health's sake ... Your own usefulness. Wait awhile for truth. "Truth crushed to earth will rise again ... the ternal years of God are hers". A lie travels fast. Wait awhile and hear truth. Take time ... weigh ... consider ... face facts. Just wait awhile. My child you are in haste to marry. But wait awhile. My neighbor, you are greedy ... in a hurry to get rich. But wait awhile! Jesus knew how to wait. He waited 30 years and thus received the word of God from God ... which He rendered so that even a child could understand. Wait awhile for God's sake. The psalmist said, "Be still and know that I am God." For God's sake wait awhile on God! Don't take thing's in your hands too quickly. The hour may be dark, but wait awhile." The darkest hour is just before day. Wait awhile for, Devine re-enforcement ... "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew strength." Remember ... the returns are not all in. Wait awhile with Jesus. In the deep anguish of His soul ... in the dark garen ... Jesus said to His three faithful disciples, "wait awhile here and watch with me." They crucified Jesus. But wait awhile ... on the third day He triumphedd. On Olivet's brow Jesus gave instructions, "wait awhile in Jerusalem until endowed" with power from on high." And so, I am going to wait patiently. It will all soon be over. Like Job of antiquity, "I shall wait awhile until my change shall, come." For in a little whiter this mortal must put on immortality. For your sake ... for Jesus' sake ... wait awhile! WAIT AWHILE REV. BLAIR T. HUNT, PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH, MEMPHIS TEXT: "The Lord is good to them that wait." — Lamentations 3:25. "Stand thou still awhile." — Daniel 9:27. Man centuries ago, a soldier, a great general, faced a crisis in his career. He was commander-in-chief of his nation. Any hasty, impetuous action on his part in early days of his kingship might have had disastrous consequences. That soldier was Saul. His adviser was the Prophet Samuel. In the First Book of Samuel, chapter 7, verse 27, Samuel's prescription is preserved. "Stand thou still awhile (wait awhile) that I may show you the word of God." "Wait awhile." urged Samuel of the king. Collect your thoughts ... wait awhile. There is seemingly perpetual motion in your life, but wait awhile ... Too much feverish activity, headaches, et cetera ... making for aspirin, B. C. medication, stanback, and sleeping powders a big market and a ready sale. Yes, too busy chasing the gaudy butterfly of fame and fortune ... reaching for bubbles of pleasure and fun that soon burst. But wait awhile! Jesus was a most busy man. But He held frequent retreats to hills and gardens, and homes ... where He could be still in the vastness of God's peace. He followed the prescription ... "wait awhile!" Wailt awhile to discern God's word. God wants to communicate wtih you ... wait awhile ... and His still, small voice will be heard. Wait awhile for your own health's sake ... Your own usefulness. Wait awhile for truth. "Truth crushed to earth will rise again ... the ternal years of God are hers". A lie travels fast. Wait awhile and hear truth. Take time ... weigh ... consider ... face facts. Just wait awhile. My child you are in haste to marry. But wait awhile. My neighbor, you are greedy ... in a hurry to get rich. But wait awhile! Jesus knew how to wait. He waited 30 years and thus received the word of God from God ... which He rendered so that even a child could understand. Wait awhile for God's sake. The psalmist said, "Be still and know that I am God." For God's sake wait awhile on God! Don't take thing's in your hands too quickly. The hour may be dark, but wait awhile." The darkest hour is just before day. Wait awhile for, Devine re-enforcement ... "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew strength." Remember ... the returns are not all in. Wait awhile with Jesus. In the deep anguish of His soul ... in the dark garen ... Jesus said to His three faithful disciples, "wait awhile here and watch with me." They crucified Jesus. But wait awhile ... on the third day He triumphedd. On Olivet's brow Jesus gave instructions, "wait awhile in Jerusalem until endowed" with power from on high." And so, I am going to wait patiently. It will all soon be over. Like Job of antiquity, "I shall wait awhile until my change shall, come." For in a little whiter this mortal must put on immortality. For your sake ... for Jesus' sake ... wait awhile!