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FEBRUARY 1, 1963
THE MAROON TIGER
LES OEUVRES LIBRES
•*m
THE MAROON TIGER
Founded in 1898
Walter A. Rolling
Editor-in-Chief
Associate
Fdifnr ,,
George Perdue
,.. Roy Norman
Secretary to the Editor
. Thomas Rachel
News Department
. Handy Withers
Reporters
Albert Hardy,
Sports Department
Samuel Murphy,
Dwight Sheeby
Hubert Watters
.. Willie Arnold
, Reporters
. . Jethro Toomer. Walter Burns
Feature Department
* Editor , ,
Hubert Watters
1 Reporters
1
... Julius Jenkins. Louis Wilson,
Allen Washington,
Charles Jackson
■
Circulation and Exchange
, Manager
, Assistant
Lamar Jackson
. Everett Smith
Lay-out Department
1 Manacer
. Frank Johnson
' Assistant
<
I 1 55 =
Photographer
Dwight Sheehy
.. Billings Jones
Reflections:
Christianity For Me
But I must believe in something
That will make me do good and that willseem right.
Living, no, partly living without a thought
Of right or reason;
Can I go on without believing?
Can I go on without having faith?
So this is man that must be saved.
God gave His son to save this shell.
This thing without a soul,
This shell without reason,
This shell that is pushed by the force
Of ego insecurity.
This shell that feeds on inhumanity.
Is this the shell that he formed of His clay?
Is this the shell that was made a little lower than angels ?
Is this the justification for the Cross and Calvary?
Is this the being made in God’s image?
Why Calvary? Was Calvary for this shell?
WAS DEATH FOR THIS VILE THING?
WAS HEAVEN MADE FOR THIS REBELLIOUS ANGEL OF
DARKNESS?
MUST I BELIEVE IN THIS CURSED THING?
YES, I MUST BELIEVE IN MAN,
IF I AM TO BELIEVE IN GOD....
Walter Rolling
Tempora Mutantur,
Nos Et Mutamur In Illis
NO! NOT THAT!
Make all your mistakes
Before you meet the world
Head-on.
For then there is no force
Nor power
Nor hope
Nor prayer
Able to bring back this childhood,
Able to bring back this age
These days of joy
These nights of dreams
These hours of play
That pass our way only once in our lifetime.
But others say that this age comes twice to us
Once as children.
Once as old men.
The Divine Tragedy
By Charles Jackson, Jr.
When I was last in the woods of confusion, a weary
travaler confronted me and told me of avast Inferno that he
had built in twenty years. It was located he told me beneath
a large southern city and its inhabitants numbered almost
a thousand. He assured me of its diversity, saying that
these beings represented almost every type of being found
in the four corners of the outside world.
I told him that I was on my
way to Paradise but he, being
a great orator, finally injoin-
ed me to follow him because
this was the only way to the
land that I was searching for.
I tried to argue my way out
of it, but I could not break
the chains he had bound me
with nor spit out the rags he
had jammed in my mouth.
Concluding at length that I
had no other alternative, I
followed this great saint to
his beloved Inferno.
As I entered this blazing
furnace, the first thing I saw
above the flames and smoke
was an eloquent building that
withstood the fire simply be
cause there was no fire near
it. He told me that this build
ing had been erected in his
name and there was no other
building like it because it
was the only building down
there.
The inhabitants were a
selected few who were bound
by oath. They had uswarn to
adhere to the following rules:
to walk in the middle of the
corridor since it was the only
part built of solid rock, the
sides having been made of
imitation clay; to '''torn
electric lights out after 10
p.m. and use oil lamps; to
save wear and tear of show
ers by not staying in them
any longer than two minutes;
to refrain from smoking un
less cigarette is held out of
the window; and to keep the
iron bars on the windows
shining at all times.
Then he took me to the
dining hall where the serfs
were being fed the left-over
delicacies of last night's
banquet. Some of them sat on
the floor because they could
not pass the color test. It
seems that the color of their
clothes did not blend in with
the chairs that they wished
to sit in.
I observed that certain
elites had reserved tables.
There were four groups in
particular in which member
had a greek letter branded
on his forehead. One of these
groups had so many mem
bers that many of them had
to sit on top of the tables
and sometimes accidently
putting their elbows in their
brother’s plate. Another
group drank excessively
from round containers while
they ate and what they drank
didn’t look like H2O. Still
another group sat on text
books and read newspapers
through the whole meal. The
group sat wearing suit and
ties and eating with superb
etiquette with their boy scout
hats folded neatly on their
knees.
Another group of a differ
ent type sat in the corner,
yapping about last night’s
expereinces. They were
labeled "d.c.” which, I took
for granted, meant dubious
characters.
I wandered into the kitchen
to see how the food was pre
pared and was amazed at the
amount of cleanliness em
ployed in the handling of the
food. Even the left over were
run through the dishwashing
machine in preparation for
the next meal.
That night I ran into a
young man who sold pies to
those who, for various
reasons, had not eaten
enough at supper. His tongue
had been cut out because he
had yelled so loud one night
that the building for the new
comers had almost split
down the middle. The build
ing did fall, eventually, as
the victim of a heavy rain.
Rev. ROBERT H. HARPER
UNPRECEDENTED WINTER
HE historian relates that when
Napoleon Bonaparte began his
ill-starred campaign against Rus
sia more than a hundred years
ago he soon found himself con
fronted by a new enemy against
which his previous experience
shed no light and upon which his
genius as a warrior could not
avail. That new enemy was na
ture. Winter came early and the
men from a milder clime than
Russia were chilled to the bone
and fell by the thousands when
Napoleon was forced to withdraw
from the ashes of Moscow. It is
to be hoped that the Rusians may
be as badly outclassed if they ever
invade the south.
As vividly remembered will be
the winter that ushered in the
year 1963. It is terrible to think of
a bus skidding into an icy river
in Montana of the vessels in the
section where the schooner “Hes
perus sailed the wintry sea,” that
repeat that tragedy of which Long
fellow writes. And we may shiver
to think of a landscape that like
Hohenlinden where when “the sun
was low all bloodless lay the un
trodden snow but was soon to see
another sight with the drum beat
at dead of night, commanding fires
of death to light the darkness of
her scenery.”
This is not true.
For in old age, we have lived,
We have made
Our mistakes
We have met
The world head-on
And then there is no force
Nor power
Nor hope
Nor prayer
Able to bring back that childhood,
Able to bring back that age
Those days of joy
Those nights of dreams
Those hours of play
That passed our way once in our lifetime.
Walter Rolling
1867
MOREHOUSE COLLEGE
Atlanta 14, Georgia
FOUNDERS' DAY
1963
SUNDAY, February 17
8 p.m., Sale Hall
MONDAY, February 18
9 a.m., Sale Hall
8 p.m., Benjamin E.
Mays Hall
SUNDAY, February 24
4:30 p.m., Samuel H.
Archer Hall
GLEE CLUB CONCERT
FOUNDERS' DAY ALUMNI PROGRAM
Speaker: Dr. Butler Alfonso Jones, '37
Professor and Chairman Department of Sociology
Ohio Wesleyan University and
Visiting Professor of Sociology
Oberlin College (1962-1963)
FOUNDERS' DAY BANQUET (Students and Faculty)
Speaker: Dr. Francis Stephenson Hutchins
President, Berea College
FOUNDERS' DAY CONCERT
Artist: Rosalind Elias, Mezzo-Soprano
Metropolitan Opera Company
Tickets: $1, $2, $3