Page Two

Wiih this issue,

. excepting the Commencement issue, the 5&3 office closes
for the current school year. The relatively small number of by.
lines which has appeared in no way covers the large number of
people who have made our weekly publications possible.

Leading the list, of course, is the masthead: Judy Kent, Kris
Anundsen, Judy Bourne, Cathy Foster, Anita Parkhurst, Joan
Spratler, Joe Walka, Bill McClung and our Columnist, Faul Hass.

Included among our many staff members and special writers
are: Donna Abeles, Jane Antoine, Barbie Burns, Sue Berna, Camille
Blozczyck, Betty Brodd, Sheen Clark, Arlene Cleveland, Bob Curr
vey, Lynn DeLargey, Lorna DeLay, Sally Edgar, Liane Ellison,
Peggy Frank, Nancy Glenicki, Pearl Gottlieb, Antje Green, Barb
Haardt, Ron Henry, Nancy Hoffman, Nancy Honian, Louise Howe,
Kathie Howell, Marilyn Huss, Bill Kell and Doc Davenport.

Others are; Katy Klosterman, Steve Levin,-Janet Lahman, Gail
McAllister, Toni Moore, Judy Morgan, John Morris, Jane Russell,
Tom Skornia, Nancy Smith, Kathy Starr. Roberta Steiber, Gene
Thompson, Barb Treweek, Mary Jane Watts and Sally Williams.

Serving at the sports desk have been John Boyles, Garland
DeNelsky, Jim Fuller, Tom Hess, Dave Humphrey, Walt Jacob-
son, Robb Madgelt and the LM. Columnist, Jerry Gray.

Aiding and abetting the business manager have been: Jacque
Baker, John Bolton, Jay Botvinick, Mike Canniffe, Norm Cook,
Fritz Cronenwett, Lorin Epp, Curt Garland, Marge Gray. Jon Lite
tig, Pete Lysne, Ken Nickoll, Joanne Paulson, Floyd Price, Jon
walker, John Welden, Bob Wietzman, and Barry Wyatt.

Special thanks also go to Deans Gardner. Peisncr and Nor-
ton, President Bowen and Mrs. Hicks, Mrs. Ludwig, Mr. and Mrs.
Prescott, Mr. George and Mike McNaIIy.

 

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“Something new every day”

SCARLET AND BLACK

Sticks
and
Sims

By Paul miss

The big news this week broke
in the Union, where twin disas—
ters threatened to obliterate the
social life of perhaps forty
students.

The first of these epic incidents
involved the brief disappear—
ance of the juke box. The danc—
ing set 7 or whatever you call
them e was thrown into utter
panic: one lad fell to the Union
floor and clawed the metal taps
off his loafers in a paroxysm of
grief; another threw himself, his
record player, and his collection
of Fats Domino tapes under an
MdtStL. freight.

A number of theories were
propounded explaining the dis
appearance of the large, rather
unwieldy instrument. it was
suggested that KGRW had kid»
napped it in order to cut into
the Union's business; it was
feared for a time that it had
ioined Roswell Garst at the bot
tom of Rock Creek lake, Every
student who didn't wear his Sal
Mineo pin in plain sight was
suspect . . .
it turned out. of course. that

was only Buildings and

SCARLET AND BLACK

GitlezLL COLLEGE
Grinneu, lowa

A weekly amp-her published each
th11 of the cellar- year by the
Grinch Committee on Student rub
national P. Andnw Brown, chair.
man. life-bar of Amociated Collegiate
irra-z Rooruentod [or lutinnu nd-
vortiamz by National
Incl. Cullen
mnuﬂv 420 M10!- Aye,
Ymkv N. Ya Entered I: second class
armor at the PM one. at Grinnell,
ion, under the net or ﬂush or
mt. Subscription rate :3 per school
rain
Signed articles and edimriah do not
normally reflect the amnion; or pol.
lcleo of this nuuplver or of Grinnell
Collage. Umlgned editorials rsdeet the
Uplnlou of th- rdrtor.

Editor __._
Business Man-re:

it

Advertising
Publishers here
New

See O’Bdon
John Robert:

Poi Pourri

May 23, I958

PrescoH Discusses NoveI
WriHen By GrinneII Alumna

By Herbert Prescott (English)

This piece has no intention of being a critical reVlew.
Rather, these are a few notes on a Grinnell alumna Whose first
novel was published this Week by the Macmillan Company. You

may have seen briefly the “The Silver Dollar Story,” for the make
01's of that Grinnell movie thought enough Ol her charm, abilities

success, or something, to photo.
graph her in gorgeous living
color by her typewriter in
Louisville, Ky.

it's her eleventh year out—
a husband (oi—inncll), three
children, and many thousands
of words later. Her name is
Ann neltebusch Hebson, and
when here she majored in

Grounds who had removed the
machine; one of the dancers the
night before had cunningly
shoved his fist through the
glass, and it needed repairs.
This was soon accomplished,
and the juke box was restored
to the Union. The initial phase
of the crisis was over.

The second phase, even
more critical than the first,
was resolved yesterday. The
deans of men and women, in
the interests, I suppose, of
hygiene, or birth control, or
something, ordered the lights
in the upstairs of the Union
permanently snapped on. The
5&3 last week reported that
only the lights in the hall-
ways were to he so fixed, but
the deans, content with no
halfway measures, turned on
ALL the lights, The Union,
like the torch of the Unknown
Soldier, was to be lighted
night and day . . .

But, just as the juke box was
returned, so the lights were
snapped back off, Order has
been restored to the Union, and
those torty or fifty students who
regularly inhabit it can breathe
easier. They can still plunk
their nickels into the gaudy
record machine, and still bed
down in their grubby little
cubicles at sunset. ,

Ah, it was a heartwarming
finish to the year!

Englishsjournaiism, became a
Phi Beta Kappa, was promin-
ent in Radio Players, drew
cartoons and painted, sang
with the campus dance band.
and, it is rumored, once con—
ironted with deadline white-
space wrote one oi the most
scurrilous articles ever to dis
grace the pages of a some-
what disgraceiul humor maga—
rine.

“Hebson, Ann, ‘A Fine and
Private Place.’ New York: The
Macmillan Co., 1953. 186 pp.
$3.75." That’s the way it reads
now in the bibliographies and
review columns.

“A Fine and Private Place"
is, as you may have noticed,
not a long book. But I think
it is one you will find com~
pelling reading, and having
read will remember long.

Essentially, I suppose, it is
the story of the girl Travis Pey-
ton and of young love, Southern
or otherwise: -
”She gave a little sigh of sur—
prise; they bumped noses awk-
wardly as he bent toward her
mouth, found it, felt her closed,
warm lips.

“How could he feel this way
about herl One minute she was
a little kid looking almost like
a woman, the next minute she
was a woman looking like a
little kid. He held her close,
pondering this.

“‘Hey,’ she said shakily, em-
barrassed. “Teach me to kiss.’
Hel- fingers were trembling
along tho buttons of his tunic,
twisting them, and she gave a
pleased shiver in his arms.

“‘You kiss good,‘ he said
softly." ’

And

Hebson
Cont Fr 4. col. 1

it is the sfory of a

 

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