Page Two
Hazleton Collegian
HAZLETON UNDERGRADUATE CENTER
PENNSYLVANIA STATE COLLEGE
Editor-in-Chief
Makeup Editor
Business Manager
Ass't Business Manager
Promotion Manager ....
Reporters
Business Agents
Cartoonist ...
Photographerd
Photographer
I Don't Get It
For the life of me, I couldn't imagine the parking lot being in worse shape
than the way it was when I first drove my car into it way back in 1949. But,
it is.
Last year it was only the two feet of loose ashes I had to contend with.
Now it's milk containers, empty "coke" bottles, paper bags, half-eaten sand
wiches, and banana peels. I have been observing this phenomena for eight
weeks now and have finally come to the conclusion that someone actually
eats lunch in the parking lot. Deductive reasoning, I believe, Comp. "5" calls
it. Everyone knows that Student Council is in a "mell of a mess" financially
and couldn't possibly purchase garbage cans for such an unlikely picnic
ground. So .. if the parking lot picnickers will refrain from littering the
parking area, the woods surrounding it, and the highway between Rossi's
and the entrance, nothing more will be said. n
If, however, the practice continues we'll have to huddle the cars closer to
gether to give the rats more room. Strong winds blowing across the high
way from the parking lot to the florist's greenhouse will wilt the peraniums
and Student Council or the school will undoubtedly receive many court sum
mons. If the highway littering is not abandoned, State policemen will be mad
as hornets and will swarm upon Highacres as they do upon speak-easies just
before election.
You see, nobody gains by such practice excepting, perhaps, the "Collegian",
which could print headlines and front page stories from such hullabaloo.
Collegiate Press
Recent troubles of student newspapers at Brooklyn college and Michigan
State college illustrate how dangerous it is becoming in many places to speak
one's own mind.
BOTH PAPERS were ordered suspended, but the Michigan State News
again is operating under somewhat questionable circumstances. Viewed in
the context battle now being waged to preserve a freedom system that in
cludes freedom of the press, both cases would be ridiculous were they not so
symptomatic of a dangerous trend in American thinking.
The Michigan State News was suspended for criticizing editorially the
Wolverine Boys' State, an American Legion-sponsored "citizenship institute."
The News decried what it thought were militaristic methods at the institute
and objected to a mock trial of a Communist which it said made a farce of
American justice.
During the summer, when the paper was suspended, the college announced
that publication would be resumed only under strict supervision. An editorial
in the first fall issue admitted that a faculty advisor had been appointed for
the paper, but insisted that he would not be a censor. (This may be true, but
it's just what a censored paper would be expected to say about its censor.)
THE VANGUARD of Brooklyn college was suspended after it violated a
recent publications committee ruling requiring it to print an editorial express
ing the opposite view every time it took an editorial stand. (We'd like to see
the Vanguard print an editorial favoring cancer to counteract its own editor
ial supporting the cancer fund drive.)
But the underlying reason for revoking the Vanguard's charter was its sup
port of the right of "communist" organizations to meet on campus and the
editor's statement to the New York press that the college administration was
attempting to gain control of the newspaper.
It would seem that both colleges were interested not so much in freedom
as they were interested in having only their own views expressed and con
trary views suppressed. We should be thankful that at Penn State it still is
possible to have a free newspaper in which varying views can be expressed,
and we should hope that everyone—students, faculty and administration—
will strive to maintain the healthy situation we have here.
Highacres, Hazleton, Pa
STAFF
Hughie Brennan
... Betty Harlor
. William Deppe
Michael Kudlich
.. Henry Paulich
.. Mary Jane Ellen
Loretta Romanofsky
Robert F. Csizma
Joseph H. Hastings
John Zamba
Shirley Petchel
. Harold Borushok
John Kurtz
Frank Nowak
Steve Paulmeno
Leroy Kromis
.... Francis Clark
.... Helene Smith
. William Wagner
HAZLETON COLLEGIAN
A Panacea
What would you say if someday,
as you were walking the hill from the
parking lot, the ground would rumble
and a modern activities building
would loom up in the plot of ground
below the athletic field ? You can't
imagine it? Well, it is possible in the
near future!
The people of Hazleton aren't
aware of the inconveniences endured
by the students at P.S.C. They don't
realize that our males must use their
only vehicle, the thumb, in order to
attend physical education classes in
town. What is more, they can't even
imagine that the girls do not enjoy
even a smattering of physical educa
tion in their two-year stay at High
acres. Hazletonians might agree that
it is advantageous for a growing col
lege to increase its prestige by rent
ing local halls for its social activities.
However, they will also agree that
it isn't fair for students commuting
everyday from Nanticoke, Wilkes-
Barre, and Berwick to travel the
additional distance to town in the ev
enings for a social event. Consequent
ly, only a very small percentage of
the student body attends dances in
town.
Since the outbreak of war in Korea,
our country has placed an emphasis
on military training and the teaching
of democracy. De we have the facili
ties at Highacres to insure these
teachings?
We have R.O.T.C. classes, you say.
Yes, we do have R.0.T.C., but how
effective is a military training course
when no space is available for drill in
rain, snow, and bad weather? The
student Council, our governing body,.
is largely an implement of "making
democracy live." However, how many
students can actually see the wheels
of Student Council turn in a room
that doesn't even seat fifty people?
At the student rally on Thursday on
ly 21% of the students attended, but
sardines would have been more com
fortable.
You ask, "Why should I contrib
ute to this drive? I won't be here to
benefit by it." Well, the community
leaders who are supporting this drive
aren't spending their time and energy
because they themselves, the Com
munity of Hazleton, or the Pennsyl
vania State College will benefit by
an activities building. They are sup
porting this drive because we, the
students, will benefit. Remember,
these men, the Community leaders
of Hazleton, are the same ones who
promote the Auto-Lite-drive, the St.
Joseph's hospital drive, and the Com
munity Chest drive. They are the
men who were responsible for ac
quiring Highacres as a permanent
home for the Hazleton Center. If
they hadn't stuck out their necks, the
(Continued on page 4)
Gov't Cuts Building Projects?
The fate of the Student Union Building on main campus may serve as a
warning to the local Activities Building Drive.
"The news that construction of the Student Union building must await ap
proval of the National Production agency no doubt came as a shock to a good
many students, particularly in view of the assessment being levied on the
student body to pay for the building.
ALTHOUGH STUDENTS may fume over the possibility that construction
of the building this year and its use next year may be denied them, there is
little they can do about it except hope that the building will be approved. Re
fusal of NPA to approve the construction would be a hard pill indeed for Penn
Staters to swallow, especially after it appeared last spring that the decade
long fight for the SU had ended.
The NPA has ruled out construction of certain types of recreation and en
tertainment buildings, but buildings like the SU may be reviewed. College
officials believe that inclusion of offices and food and other services in the SU
may sway Washington officials in favor of granting approval.
It construction of the SU is turned down now, it will be a hard blow to
students who have given time, effort, and money toward its realization."
Have you ever had one of those bad days that just makes you want to give
up and take a slow boat to Umbrasgovnia ? Then give me your ear for a
minute while I unfold the details of my "blue Monday."
One fine Monday morning, October 24 to be exact, I unwrapped myself from
the arms of Morpheus, kissed the rosy lips of dawn, and prepared myself for
a fine day at Highacres. I bounded out of my indoor spring mattress and flip
ped the curtain up to let in the joyful rays of the cheerful sun. Lo and behold
the sun was not there. Instead, the dismal patter of rain running down the
window greeted my road-map eyes. "Alas," I thought, "what fun I shall have
climbing up the hill to school with those nasty drops of rain bouncing off my
proboscium."
As I selected a pair of trousers from a hanger for use that day, three other
pairs became jealous and fell to the floor. I hastily placed these three pair of
trousers back on their appropriate hangers, when a few other pair of trousers
decided to join in the melee, and they too fell on the floor. At this point I ut
terted some secret oaths that are usually not used in the presence of elderly
ladies and exceedingly bright young children who pick up new additions to
their vocabularies rapidly.
I reached for my shoes, but alas and alack, only one of the shoes was present
. I formed a mental picture of my faithful canine companion gloating over
my loss. No doubt he had to be cute and carried my shoe off to some distant
hiding place. I very easily could have dismissed the matter entirely and used
another pair, but I had made up my mind to wear that pair or nothing, and it
looked as if I were going to go with one shoe only. After thoroughly search
ing the household, I found the mate to the shoe, as you would have it„ only a
few paces from where the other had been. I tried to compose myself. "By the
beard of the Prophet," I said, "I'll go dash some cold water on my face and
wake up completely before this farce continues any further." And cold water
it was indeed; the fire had gone out, and I had to build another fire to heat
some water for shaving purposes. In my frame of mind building a fire was a
major effort. After threatening, cajoling, coercing and intimidating all of the
fire-building supplies, I decided to continue grooming myself. Now I don't take
a very cheerful attitude toward shaving, but a quick glance at my reflection
in the mirror convinced me that shaving would be necessary. I also know that
it is practically impossible to run out of razor blades, shaving cream and
Toothpaste all at the same time; but I guess I am the special sort of individ
ual, for this is exactly what happened to me. When I noticed that I had run
out of shaving supplies, I didn't get peeved in the least. I simply reached for
by brother's shaving kit; I'd make use of his shaving gear. As Madame Fate
woud have it, brother was spending the week-end at his mountain hide-away
at Joe's Pool Room, and had taken his little kit with him; so I was back out
on the limb again. Nasty little things began to run through my mind when I
thought about the futile search I'd
have looking over town for a place to
purchase the necessary articles at
this early hour. I decided to use an
old blade and some soap, but do you
think I could find a used Made? I
looked in every nook, crack and corn
er without success. Tiny little clouds
of steam began to emerge from my
ears, and the usual incantations be
gan to escape from my troubled body
when the jingle of the phone brought
me back to reality . . I couldn't ima
gine who would be calling at this
early hour, but I thought that if I
answered the phone, I might be able
to borrow some blades, toothpaste,
courage and strength from the party
calling. I gently picked up the phone
and identified our residence in the
sweetest tones I could muster under
these trying conditions. One of those
young sweet things who manages to
call the wrong number nine out of
Tuesday, November 21, 1950 ,
IDYLLS OF OSCAR
BY HENRY PAULICK
ten times and insists that she has
the right number all the time was on
the other end of the line. Well, this
young sweet thing gasped, sighed,
and in between great big healthy
crunches of bubble gum informed
me that she would like very much to
speak to Gertrude, because she had
loaned Gertrude a book that belongs
to Tommy, and Tommy will want
that book back today, because he
borrowed it from Ethelbert, and he
in turn has failed to return this same
book back to the library at the desig
nated date, which is two weeks now,
and if she dosen't get the book back
today, something terrible will hap
pen, and oh my goodness, oh my gra
cious, she has to get the book, or she
'll simply die. This sad tale touched
me indeed, and I replied that I was
sorry and would like to see all of
them happy and smiling; but due to
the fact that we had no Gertrude
within four miles, I thought she had
the wrong number and she should
look up the correct number and try
calling this Gertrude again.
After touring the neighborhood, I
finally managed to find some blades,
and thoroughly soaked and dripping
water, I stumbled back home to
shave. Of course the fire had gone out
again, and I had to re-kindle it. I now
had some hot water and razor blades,
and with some soap, I started to
shave the whiskers from face. I cut
myself and finally gave the job up.
I plugged the holes with newspaper
and headed for the corner restaurant.
I had to get out of the house. I dash
ed into the restaurant, brushed the
rain off myself, prepared for a nice
(Continued on page 4)