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adidas . .
topsiders . . .
hiking boots . .
running after that
fleeting bus . .
better for you . .
no gas or oil
gets you acquainted
with where you're
but those damn
day . good rays . . .
feel it blasting . . .
it's just a sensation . . .
you're out on the road
and you're just part of
everything . . .
9:15 buses to 9:00
classes . standing up
forever . . . sometimes
the only chance you get
to talk to a friend . . .
peddles to push . .
shoes to wear . .
buses to stand in . . .
think i'll just rest
a minute then go to the
gardens and walk barefoot
in the grass . . .
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This article by Burr Snider reprinted courtesy of Esquire Magazine, Copyright © 1973, Esquire, Inc.
Froggie is the official door person, the greeter of guests. Every
time a new group of revelers arrives froggie flops across the floor
on her kerploppy splayed feet to welcome them. "Riiiivettt" she
croaks in marvelous basso frog talk by way of greeting and digs
their reaction to being ushered in by a frog. That's a sensational
costume froggie has on; you can bet it's no Woolworth's num-
ber. That's one frog suit that cost some bucks. There's the bell
again and there goes froggie now. Uh-oh, there's a new guy, a
stranger in this party just arriving, he doesn't know a soul here.
Froggie ignores the rest of the newcomers and attaches herself
to the strange guy. She's so short and exceedingly rotund. "Flies?"
she murmurs, beginning to nibble around the guy's chest with her
thick, enormously exaggerated froggie lips. "Any flies? Looking
for flies " Nibble, nibble. The guy is backed up against the
wall trying to recall if anything in his experience up to now has
prepared him for handling a rapacious frog socially, but he's draw-
ing a blank.
"A-hal" exclaims froggie suddenly, jumping back in mock amaze-
ment and pointing a finger triumphantly. "At last a fly!" she shouts,
rolling her great froggie head in dizzy anticipation. Pouncing again
she nibbles voraciously. Cackles of laughter erupt from the other
party-ers. The guy himself is plastered rigidly against the wall; his
uncertain smile glitters like a cheap rhinestone applique. Froggie
won't let go. He manages a very nervous laugh: how far is this
going to go? Not much farther, thank God. Another gaggle of arrivals
has just come in and froggie's attention is reluctantly diverted.
Great party! It's being held in one of those Southern suburban
dwelling complexes which aspire to the manor manner. It's Hallow-
een and all the makings of seasonal festivity are abundantly pre-
sent indeed the groaning board seems actually to sag under the
weight of the holiday victuals. Lambent loops of black and orange
crepe paper droop from overhead, paper skeletons and goblins
dangle about on strings, and from the corners come the glow of
the jack-o'-lanterns. Drinks, smokes, food, laughter, camaraderie,
the blossoming of casual party lust Ya-hoo! Great party!
But unmm, there is something untoward here. Look
around. There seems to be the preponderance of well, this
might sound unkind, but for example look over there on that
couch, those three people sitting there, a guy and two chicks.
I mean that's a normal-sized couch isn't it? But look how jammed
in they are. There's barely room for the three of them. It looks
like they're sitting on play furniture. Jesus, they're really enormous!
Oh, now look. One of 'em is trying to get up. Oh, God, poor
thing. She looks like a turtle that's been flipped over on its back.
Epic struggle. That couch is really too low. She'll never yes!
Terrific second effort! She's got her massive legs planted on the
floor for leverage, and her short puffy arms looking like connected
links of soft balloony pop-art sausage, are vainly trying to push off
from the couch trembling madly with the effort but the immutable
force of all that massed inertia is again sucking her right back
down into the cushions. Her face is twisted into doughy rolls of
naked agony Ah, but now there is help. Hands cup around her
elbows and, aided by a little push from the lady seated next to
her, she is heaved to her feet "Ssssssshhhhhhuuuuuu!" she wheezes
in relief, pulling herself back together. She smiles and nods grate-
fully to the gallants who have come to her rescue and chugs over
to the buffet table.
That's it, of course. That lady has got to tip the Toledos at
somewhere in the neighborhood of two-eighty, three hundred
pounds, a big mama, and she doesn't even look out of place
here! Put her down in your average crowd and she'd stand out
as a monument to corpulence, but here she's just folks! Isn't this
"Isn't this wild!" The new guy, the stranger that froggie worked
over, has gotten separated from his friends, and he's just been
sort of slinking about taking all this in. This chick has been noticing
his openmouthed wonderment, chuckling as she watched the amaze-
ment race over his face, and she's just joined him at his vantage
point in the hallway. She's not what you'd call petite herself, this
lady isn't, but in comparison to most here she looks downright
svelte. "Isn't this wild?" she's asking the guy. "Have you ever seen
more oof on the hoof in one place in your life? These are all
ricers, in case you didn't know. Damn near everyone here is on
the rice diet, or has been on it."
Now it dawns on him. The nee diet. Of course. We're in Dur-
ham. Duke University, sure. This is the thing what's his name. Buddy
Hackett, is always boosting on the talk shows. Kempner is the guy's
name. Dr. Kempner's rice diet. Ask you a question, he says to the
girl. If all these people are on this diet, which I know not a
thing about except it is said to be a very tough regimen, what about
the old groaning board over there and all those pudgy folks gathered
around it? What about those people sitting over there bent over
those paper plates heaped so copiously with the potato salad and
the cold cuts and that gorgeous orange-and-black dyed bread? What
about those big platters laden with brownies and chocolate-chip
cookies, and listen, what about that lady back in the bedroom,
who is huddled over a plate of food that I have rarely seen the
likes of, so intent on getting the most in the quickest that she is
shoving great pawfuls into her maw, hand over hand? What about
"Ah, but they're cheating," says the lady. "Look at them. Look
how guilty they look, how they won't meet your eye. They know
what they're doing to themselves. They're paying big money to come
here and starve off pounds on the rice diet, and they're throwing
it all away like there's no tomorrow. Listen, I can empathize with
them. They're starving. I doubt if you've ever been as hungry as
most of these people are. Some of them are sick with hunger.
I've been driven to cheating like this myself before. Look at me,
I ask you. The only difference is I don't have the guts or the balls
or whatever to do it where everybody can see me."
The lady laughs. "It's a good thing Kempner's in Europe, though.
Probably most of these people wouldn't be doing this out in the open
if he was here. They're scared to death of him. They say that he
can look at your urine specimen and tell exactly what you have
Of course, the lady points out, as you can see not everybody
is fat. But just about everybody here is freaky in some way, that
she'll guarantee. "The ricers attract all the local flakos."
Back in the bedroom things have gotten stoned slapstick. The
very pudgy girl is still at it, her hands like dual metronomes slugging
away at that grub. "Jesus, lookit her!" whoops another lady. "She
can't get it in fast enough. Here, oinkie, lemme help ya." She grabs a big
handful of the potato salad and smears it onto the other girl's mouth,
trying to stuff it down her throat. "Mmmmmmmph!" sputters the
hungry girl, shaking her head in an attempt to resist the other's
hand. But her helper is not to be denied. Another handful, most
of which ends up on the bed. "That's right, grunt-grunt, stuff it
on in there. It's only costing you about forty dollars a bite," she
roars. Now they both have potato salad smeared all over themselves.
The smearee is trying helplessly to suppress her giggles, but finally
it spews out, laughter, food and everything all over her friend, and
they collapse in a paroxysm of uncontrolled hilarity in each other's
arms onto the bed.
The room is in an uproar. Another of the portly ladies jumps
up and pirouttes her ungainly bulk around the room, running her
hands up and down her Mother Earth corpus in a slinky self-parody.
"Here it is, folks," she blusters, carny-style. "The five-thousanci dollar
figure. That's right. Five big ones. Several months of rice and five
thousand dollars and you can have a shape just like mine. Now
if you folks would care to step a little closer "
"Do you want to know who the most exploited person in the world
is? The fat man, the fat person. Fat people are almost an ethnic
group, but one that nobody has any qualms about doing a job on.
You never hear on radio and TV anymore any jokes about spades or
Jews or P.R.'s, but the fat man gets it from everybody. Ha-ha, the
jolly fat man. Give us a yuk, fat man. Make us howl, fat lady.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to be made aware every
day of your life that you're a freak? I'm not talking about the
strangers on the street who stare at you and point you out to their
kids right there where you can see them. I mean from your own
family, the people who are supposed to love you. 1 think it usually
starts at about age ten, for some people maybe earlier, but, yeah, for
most it's about ten. See that's just about when your parents realize
that this isn't just baby fat that Junior or Sis is carrying around.
It's not going to magically fall away someday to reveal the little darling
they've been waiting for. Yeah, about ten. From then on you are made
aware of every bite of food you put in your mouth. You ask
any obese person. I bet everyone of them will tell you that for
most of their lives they have never put a bite in their mouth that
they didn't feel guilty about, at least way down deep. That's a
lot of accumulated guilt that fat people carry around with them.
"So say you're ten years old and Mom and Dad realize they got
this chubby little monster on their hands. They don't know how to
handle it so they start making the rounds of the doctors. They
put you on diets and then they harp at you so about not cheating
that you cheat just out of nervousness. Lots of times the parents are
big eaters themselves, you know, and that makes it even tougher.
Like in a lot of Jewish families homelife is still more or less centered
around the table and you get the old Yiddishe Mama thing. Eat,
eat, I'm up all night cooking you shouldn't eat? Except for you, fatty,
you don't eat. Keep your hands off the mashed potatoes.
"Who knows why you're fat in the first place? Maybe it is because
your body requires less or something. But you're just as hungry. Or
sometimes you know your parents are into their own thing, and
you're just not getting enough attention from them. So you tap them
on the shoulder and you say, 'Hey, look at me. I'm fat.' Sure, it's
negative attention you're getting, but if you're feeling left out you'll
be glad to take any kind of attention you can get.
"In school your distinction is that you're the fat kid in the class.
No matter what else you do. You got two choices: you either
clam up and go inside yourself, live a fantasy life — and most
of the fantasy is about all this fat suddenly, miraculously, dropping
off of you — or you become super outgoing. You become the
happy fat kid. Well, like the paper boy said, I got news for you.
There's no such thing as a happy fat kid."
Gordon (the names are changed but the voices are true; is just
about as likeable a guy as you ever want to meet. He's smart
and quick and funny and perceptive, and possessed of an appealing
sort of abashed charm that is guaranteed to win you over. Cordon
tips in at something around 350 pounds. At five feet nine this
girth gives him the shape of a droopy double pyramid, the bases
of which are joined together at his waist. When his arms are at
rest they hang at a forty-five-degree angle from the vertical, pushed
out by the outward slopes of his upper body. To say that Gordon
is fat would not be hitting the note. For him, and for many ricers, the
word needs some baroqueing up; needs some plump and squiggly
little curlicues to lend it the requisite, ah, avoirdupois. Still it is
possible to see handsomeness lurking like a sneak thief down there
beneath the billows. Maybe if Gordon were still up around 511,
which he has reached on occasion, all that would be totally ob-
scured, but now a wisp of the promise remains. Like so many fat
people, once you exhibit a genuine interest. Cordon is so disarmingly
open about his obesity, its roots and ramifications, that you begin to
marvel at his unsparing honesty. But he's been thinking about these
things for a long time. As he says, it's hard for him to kid him-
self anymore. "When you're fat that's all you ever think about,
so you get pretty contemptuous of the tricks you can play on
yourself." Cordon is a believer in what he calls the "invalid theory"
of obesity, which can be summed up in this one phrase: "Don't
bother me, 1 can't cope. I'm too fat."
"See, when you're fat you don't have to take responsibility for
anything but your fatness. You don't have to go out and meet
people and you don't have to take the chance of getting hurt
that contact always poses. You can just stay in the dark and brood
and fester. Nobody is particularly going to take the trouble to try
to get to know a fat person. So the fat is nice protection if you
look at it that way. It's literally a nice thick wall insulating you
Gordon's been coming to Durham for twelve years now. Sometimes
he stays here even when he's not "on service" with the Kempner
program: "1 guess I like it here. I feel comfortable and accepted
here. Even most of the townies are used to the ricers so they
don't turn and stare at you in the street when you walk past.
They just assume you're on the diet. Sometimes one of the grits
(townspeople) will ask me something that shows he just assumes
I'm a ricer, like how's things on the diet." I look at him like he's
crazy and I say, What kind of a diet? I don't know from diets.
I'm just passing through here on my way to Florida."
For him the rice diet has been only intermittently successful. He
has achieved some quite dramatic weight losses, most notably a
230-pound drop in a fourteen-month period in 1967-68 (he says
he was inspired by a girl he was in love with at the time), but
every time the pounds came piling back. "The last significant weight
loss I had, what would be significant to you, was eighty-pounds.
But it was nothing to me. I hardly looked any different."
Cordon doesn't make any pretensions to an aesthetic love of food.
"I'm a junkie," he says, "not a gourmet. When I go on a binge
it's usually snackies, whatever's quickest and easiest, lots of TV
dinners. Some say if you ingest ten times your body weight in
calories you maintain without gaining. Like I weigh 350, so I could
eat 3500 calories a day. Well, one stinking TV dinner has 500
calories in it and I can inhale three of them without blinking.
Right now I'm not dieting. I guess I just don't have any incentive.
But that doesn't mean I don't feel guilty when I go overboard.
Last night's an example. I'm driving home and I know I'm gonna
have trouble getting past Ken's Quickie Mart which stays open late.
My goddamned car just follows its nose right into the parking lot.
I picked up an eight-inch frozen pizza, eight ounces of American
cheese, some apples and a handful of Mounds candy bars. Just for
a snack. Burnt the goddamned pizza so bad I couldn't eat it.
Pissed me off 'cause by that time Ken's was closed and I was really
hungry. And this was all after dinner, mind you. For dinner 1 had
had shrimp cocktail and prime ribs, the works.
"Oh, I'll tell you something else crazy about this town. I never
saw anything like it. Everywhere you go. I mean everywhere, they
got these sandwiches for sale. You know what I'm talking about?
In cellophane wrappers? Like ham and cheese and tuna and egg
salad. Chicken salad, like that. Everywhere. At gas stations, in the
movies. I went into a tailor's the other day and there was a pile of
those rotten sandwiches on the counter. You can wolf down a
couple while you're waiting for your dry cleaning, for Christ's sake.
"I'm from New York, you know, and somehow Durham cheating^
and New York cheating are different. Here, like I said. I don't
mind going out all that much because these people are used to
us. But in New York you really stand out, you know, so you try
to stay in as much as possible. Which isn't hard really 'cause it's
so easy to order out. 1 must be the best customer that Rocky
Lee's pizza ever had. I once had this fantasy that the delivery
trucks from Rocky Lee's and )ay Tang's Chinese restaurant and
The Steak Joint had this enormous wreck on the corner of Sixty-
fourth Street and First Avenue. I thought, Jesus, what a great head
start on a diet if those trucks were just put out of commission
for a week."
"/( is no( a new experience that special diets are burdensome
and require the faithful cooperation of physician and patient. The
rice-fruit-sugar diet is certainly no exception." — "Compensation
of Renal Metabolic Dysfunction: Treatment of Kidney Disease and
Hypertensive Vascular Disease with Rice Diet," by Dr. Walter Kempner,
North Carolina Medical journal, February, 1945.
Recognition didn't come easy for Dr. Kempner, God knows. When
he first started pushing his rice diet back in the early Forties he
was met with a pretty big ration of ridicule from the medical
establishment. It was only to be expected. After all, he was turn-
ing accepted dietary rules upside down. For years he had been
studying the metabolism of deranged cells, first in his native Ger-
many, and then, after Hitler's accession, here in the States at Duke.
His interest was focused on the effects of diet on people suffer-
ing from vascular and renal diseases — diseases such as nephritis
and nephrosis (deadly kidney ailments), high blood pressure, heart
disease and diabetes. Through his research Kempner became con-
vinced that diet played a much larger role in the incidence of
such diseases than was believed at the time. Salt, he concluded
was the major poisoner. What was needed was a regimen which
would be salt free, which contained a minimum of protein and
fat (and, of course, cholesterol), and which would maintain a bal-
ance of essential amino acids and certain chemical substances called
"electrolytes" in the body. He was struck by the fact that in geo-
graphical areas where rice was a primary diet staple, the Far East,
for example, the incidence of these diseases was demonstrably less
frequent than in Western countries where comparatively little rice
— but proportionately more fat — was consumed. Eureka. After
some tinkering around he found that a severely restricted regimen
consisting of rice, fruit and fruit juices — supplemented with vi-
tamins — met the requirements best. The fact that that diet was
high in carbohydrates and low in protein didn't sit too well with
nutrition experts of the day, and many dismissed Kempner as just
another faddist. He himself at first didn't think such a stringent pro-
gram could be maintained by a patient for sustained periods, until
a lucky accident convinced him otherwise. In 1942 he had started
a patient, a middle-aged North Carolina farm wife suffering from
chronic nephritis and an enlarged heart, on the diet, instructing
her to return to the clinic at the end of two weeks. But she misun-
derstood his German accent and didn'l return for two months, her
condition remarkably improved. Kempner was soon able to produce
convincing documented evidence proving the efficacy of his diet
— that not only was it capable of arresting the progress of the diseases
being treated, but in some cases, if followed closely over a long-
enough period, it was actually effecting repairs in what had hereto-
fore been thought of as terminal diseases. More and more doctors
began referring their chronic l<idney, hypertension and diabetic cases
to Kempner's clinic.
"There are plenty of people walking around today who are
alive because of the Kempner diet," says Mary Wolfe, a slim and
gracious and quite healthy-looking lady who appears to be in her
early fifties. "I know because I'm one of them." Mary lives in
Durham now, in a beautifully restored cabin outside the town. She
came to love the area through her frequent visits to Durham
over the years, and now, although there is no real reason for her
to be near the clinic, she prefers to stay.
"I suffered from hypertension and it looked for a while as if I
would die. Doctor after doctor could do nothing for me. Finally
I had a sympathectomy, which at that time, in the Forties, was
considered quite a last-ditch operation. When it didn't seem to have
done any good, a doctor recommended that I come to Durham
and try the rice diet. I did, and slowly began to improve. I lived
on rice and fruit for a long time but eventually it was liberalized
so I could have other things, vegetables and even a little meat,
but never any salt. And here I am now, all these years later, feeling
very well, thank you."
Mary feels that Kempner has never really gotten the kind of
recognition that he deserves. "He took on people that nobody
else could help. I remember children dying of terminal kidney
diseases. He put them on the diet and watched them closely and
some of them actually improved. He was able to add months, and
sometimes years, to their lives after they had been given up for
Gradually resistance to the revolutionary new diet died away,
ever so gradually as it were, as Kempner and his colleagues built
up an impressive file of successful cases. In the early years of the
diet it had been noticed of course that a significant weight loss
usually occurred in those who undertook the regimen, and eventually
Kempner began accepting patients whose only apparent problem was
obesity — as opposed to the vascular and renal patients. It was
and is, however, Kempner's contention that there is no such thing
as "just" obesity. He feels that the chronically overweight condition
is invariably accompanied by attendant problems, that obesity fre-
quently is a sign that the body has been damaged. For this reason
he subjects everyone going on the diet to a probing and compre-
hensive battery of tests and consultation before their weight-loss
Over the years more and more obesity patients were accepted
at the clinic, but it was in 1952 that a marked increase was noted.
Then in 1968 Mrs. Betty Hughes, whose husband was the gover-
nor of New Jersey at the time, wrote a highly laudatory article in
Ladiei' Home Journal about her successful weight loss on the diet
and soon after that most of Kempner's patients had obesity problems.
"Things were a lot different when 1 first came down here six-
teen years ago," says Elaine, who at 230 pounds, even though she
is down a hundred from a year ago, is not one of the rice diet's
most successful examples. "I was an obesity case in 1958" she con-
tinues. "I was seventeen years old. I weighed 268 pounds. Many
of the other patients were here for hypertension and kidney trouble
and stuff, terminal diseases mostly. It was pretty horrible. The clinic
had outgrown the hospital where they used to keep all the patients,
and they had just set up the rice houses — one on Lamond
Street and one on Mangum — where everybody lived and ate.
I was surrounded by death. In those days they had time to look
after you and I was watched like a hawk. Now there are too many
patients for that and things are a little looser." Elaine dropped
a hundred pounds that first time around and went back north to
finish school. But in a year's time she had gained it all back
and then some and was back in Durham. She figures she's spent
almost half of the intervening years here and has been on the
program at least fifteen times.
"When I first used to come down here I was really a hateful
kid. I would throw tantrums and scream and do anything for attention.
The nurses despised me. One time Kempner caught me cheating
and he put me in the hospital for a supervised fast. 1 had nothing
but distilled water for twenty-eight days. He knew I was into psy-
chology in school so he told me I should study the psychological
effects of starvation. By the end of the fast 1 had lost thirty pounds.
"Later that same year I got sick and got down to 161. Kempner
wanted me to go to 145 and a battle of wills began. I left the
hospital at 132. I shot back up to 150 in two weeks' time. I used
to volunteer to help the nurses' with the food trays so I could
steal off them."
Elaine's all-time high was 411 pounds. She has a picture of her-
self at that weight taped to the refrigerator door in her apartment.
Last year when she returned to Durham after an absence of several
years she was so heavy that her legs couldn't support her and one
of her knees had given out. She had to use a cane to walk. "You
run into a lot of bizarre things in an atmosphere like this one,"
she laughs. "A lot of humor here, although most of it is pretty
desperate humor. You know like most ricers are scared to death of
Kempner. People will do anything not to incur his wrath. There's
a weigh-in every morning at the rice houses too, so if there are any
suspicious jumps in weight you can count on getting some crap
from the staff. But there's always a way to beat it. People will
go out on a binge and then take these enormous doses of laxative
and void it all. Or you can take diarrhetics too. 'Course they de-
hydrate you and make you lose abnormal amounts of potassium.
People get very sick on them but they go right back out and do
"You know, my whole life revolves around being fat. It gets to
be this very vicious circle. I'll start to feel guilty about doing this
to myself and that will bring on stress which makes me nervous,
so I begin to eat, which brings on more guilt. Finally, you just
say. What the hell, I'm a rotten son of a bitch anyway, and you
just eat some more. Its like a trap you can't get out of. But after
all this, after years of going through this kind of self-hate and
loneliness and unhappiness, of always getting hurt because of the
supersensitivity you build up, I'm not ready to throw the towel in.
I'm still working at it in my fashion. I guess that says something."
Jeannie is us now experiencing what must be quite a delightful
sensation. She is discovering for the first time in her life that she's
attractive. Jeannie's dropped more than a hundred pounds in the
eleven months or so that she's been in Durham and although she's
still a touch pudgy at 147 — twenty pounds over her goal — there
is almost no resemblance between the present jeannie and the bloated
blob that stares dully out at you in her "before" picture, jeannie
is a tough, funny girl in her early twenties, and she is fond of
shrewd observations about fat life-styles.
"You're gonna be seeing a lot of 'before' pictures in Durham,"
she says, laughing. "Anytime anybody is successful on a diet the
first thing they do when they meet you is to find some excuse to
whip out the old 'before' picture. I guess you can understand why.
I look at old pictures of me and I can't believe it myself. 1 don't
think fat people really know what they look like. They avoid seeing
themselves. And you have no idea what a trip it is to find out
that you really have a face, with definition and all. You know there are
a lot of things that most women take for granted that just don't
happen to a fat chick. Like guys are just now beginning to do nice,
polite things for me, lighting my cigarette and opening doors for
me. Nobody does that kind of thing for a fat woman. It's really
Jeannie's been going on — and falling off — diets ever since she
can remember. The pattern is always the same: big losses at first
which dwindle down until you hit a plateau that you can't seem
to get past. Then you get discouraged and start cheating. "I've tried
'em all, baby." She laughs. "You gotta figure that by the time someone
comes here for the rice diet they've already tried every goddamned
method in the world for losing weight. Counting calories, counting
carbohydrates, eating only one thing for weeks, water diets, hospital
fasts, sleep cures, every kind of fad diet you can imagine out of
the women's magazines. Metrecal, uppers, downers, injectons do
you know there's one where they inject you with the urine of a
pregnant woman and it supposedly makes you lose weight? But I'm
married to a guy who eats all day and never gains an ounce. So
all I do is cook. What am I supposed to do? For me coming to
Durham was really the last gasp. I mean it's a pretty major move.
You give up your home and your family, if you're a guy you
got to take all this time away from your job or your business,
and you move down here for months, in some classes for years,
just to lose weight. You got to be pretty desperate to put yourself
Jeannie stayed on the rice diet for six months, but when she
stopped losing weight she switched over to still another diet pro-
gram administered by Dr. Richard Stueike under the auspices of
the Duke Student Health Program. Jeannie's case more or less defines
the coordinates of a controversy that is raging in Durham at the
moment; it might be figuratively described as Kempner in this corner
and Stueike in this. Many ricers, in fact, are making the move away
from the rice diet over to the Stueike plan, which is a more relaxed
and liberal regimen than Kempner allows. Buddy Hackett, who for
years was one of Kempner's biggest boosters, talking up the rice
diet on Carson's show, tried out Stuelke's regimen recently for a
one-month period. He still has only the best of things to say about
Kempner and doesn't want to get involved in the controversy.
Buddy just drops into town several times a year to shed whatever
excess that high living has piled on him and just as quietly he
"I lost a lot of weight on the rice diet, but I got really sick
on it," says Jeannie. "I was always feeling dizzy and woozy and
then I started passing out. I had my period for two months straight.
When it started to look like I wasn't gonna lose any more weight
I said to myself, 'Who needs this aggravation?' and I switched over.
"See, Stuelke's diet is salt-poor in contrast to the rice diet
which is salt-tree. This gives him a lot more latitude in designing
menus and you get to eat a lot of things Kempner forbids. As
far as I'm concerned it's just about impossible to try to maintain
the rice diet in normal life, even though it too loosens up some
after the first few weeks. I'm not really knocking Kempner on this
point — if you have a lot of weight to lose and want to do it
the fastest way, his diet is probably the best — but I think Stueike
provides a nice sort of halfway house for people who want to get
back to their regular lives. Also some people just can't or won't
stick to the rice diet and this one is much easier. And there's
another thing. Stuelke's overweight himself, and he's been even
fatter than he is now, so he can empathize with you; he knows
what you're going through. Kempner is like a piece of wire. He
refuses to sympathize or try to identify with the patients. He's very
cold and very impersonal.
"I guess you have to remember that he's been dealing with these
fat people for a long time. He probably knows more about it
than anybody, so there's sure to be a method in his madness.
Most people come here wanting to be punished for this horrible
thing they've done to themselves. They're really masochistic. I think
they'd eat garbage if he gave it to them. You got to remember
that people who come here are very self-indulgent people, most
of them pretty rich. And they've let themselves get so helpless.
You see people coming in here so heavy they have to have walkers
just to get aroilnd. I'm talking about four and five hundred pounds
and more. I'm talking about fat."
Melody is another girl who, like Jeannie, is emerging from a
lifelong chrysalis of fatty tissue, only twenty or thirty pounds away
from true beauty. And, like Jeannie, she is also a convert to Stueike
after half a year or so on the rice diet. She has her own rea-
sons. "Don't let anyone kid you, all this about glandular problems
and all is just crap. Maybe some people's bodies assimilate food
better than others, but it still all comes down to eating too much.
Even so, though, there's got to be some psychological reason why
you do, and I think these problems ought to be attacked. But Kempner
discourages you from seeing a shrink when you are on service.
Nobody denies that Kempner can give you a slim body but he
leaves you with a fat head. On Stueike you can get group therapy.
He encourages it.
"If you want to know what I think, though, I think a lot of
ricers come back here because they like it here. You know, for
the first time in your life you're surrounded by people who have
the same problem you do. You find out you're not as abnormal
as you thought. It's kinda comforting. Plus you gotta remember that
most of the people here are not exactly playing with a full deck.
This is kind of an escape into unreality for them. Funny, when you
first get down here you really feel horrible. Here you are in this
strange little Southern town, you've been pushed around like a
goddamned cow through a few days of testing, then you go over
to one of the rice houses where they feed you this thimbleful
of crappy rice, and all you see are these tremendously fat people.
Your first reaction is to stay aloof. You look at these grotesque,
overweight slobs and you think, I'm not one of those. I don't
look like that. And even if I do, I'm not really a fat person.
The real me, down underneath all this, is skinny. This fat is just
something that happened to me. So you shy away from contact.
But then after a while you begin to realize that everybody here is
in the same boat, we've all got the same problems. Maybe the
reasons we're fat aren't the same, but the result is. That's ore of the
things about obesity, it's right out there for everyone to see. Maybe
we're not really any more screwed up than anyone else, but every-
one can see our hangups. Anyw?v, after you get over that initial
stand-offishness you begin to develop some very deep relationships.
There are a lot of jokes about the hanky-panky that goes on
among the ricers, but I think it's this feeling of being in sort of
a ghetto that causes it. You know, we're all pariahs together. Another
ricer is the only one who can every really know what you go through.
Plus there's this crazy thing that seems to happen to just about
everybody. When the fat starts dropping off, the old sex drive
starts to come back. What it is, I think, is that fat masks feelings.
When you're fat you don't want any emotional contact with any-
body, you just want to be left alone. You're unfeeling and it seems
like you just forget about sex. But when you start to recognize
yourself again, when you start to get the feeling that maybe there's
something there to like again, jesus, you really start getting horny.
Of course you need a lot of reinforcement to stick to the diet.
You need some kind of proof that this torture you're putting your-
self through — and believe me, it's pure hell — is worthwhile.
What better way is there than to have somebody show some interest
Passing the day in Fat City: At the Downtowner and the Durham
Hotel. At the Duke Motor Lodge. At the Cavalier Inn (where Buddy
stops when he's in town^, and the Holiday Inn and the Hilton. In
drab effiriencies off Gregson and combination studios on Chapel
Hill Road. In the sorority-chapter ambience of the rice houses on
Lamond and Mangum, the ricers morbidly molt away the days in
their transient chambers, while the pounds drop off slowly, agonizingly,
imperceptibly, choking back screams of deprivation, gnawing on
reddened knuckles as the walls resound with the crunches, slurps,
gurgles and grunts, the resplendency of remembered repasts, gar-
gantuan grub-ups of the fantasy, aromatic juices of the imagination
sending maddening wafts through the nostrils of memory, visions of:
sugarplums? Sure, and what of thick, mayo-dripping B.L.T.'s and
tripledecker clubs impaled with those little fancydan toothpicks?
What of good roadside greasy-burgers buttressed with slices of soggy
onions and puckery, acidic pickles, with sides of yummy fries swim-
ming in viscous pools of watery catsup mmm marbled K.C.
strips heaped in mounds upon platters, baskets of hot garlic bread
with chives, bursting Idahoes all gooey with sour cream and bacon
bits and gobs of butter, barbecued chips, Fritos, Twinkles, onion
dip, jalapeno bean sauce, guacamole Sara Lee, vile temptress
oh, those little dime pies in wax paper, little two-bite pies, oh,
God. Reese's peanut-butter cups, Nestle's Crunch, sludgy sundaes of
axle-grease chocolate and maraschino in counterpoint lesus,
stop it now, just stop it. It always starts this way, with these reveries.
Just get your mind off it, don't think about it. You know once
you start it's just crazy. You got too much in this to start
cheating now, much too much. Right off the bat there was that five-
or six-hundred-dollar pop for tests and consultation. Two days of being
pushed and poked at an drained and then that consultation with
Herr Doktor, Hello, wat's you name, Hon chead, be sure and wear you
nametag, good-bye. Then up to a hundred and titty a week for
treatment plus, plus thirty for what they call food. Forget about motel
or apartment rental, away-from-home living expenses and like that.
No, babe, no cheating, not when you're pumping close to a grand
a month into this. Besides, whatever you eat is gonna show up in
the urinalysis anyway, am I right? Aha, look! A cheeseburger! A
small pizza! With anchovies! And one, two, three eight. Eight
Hershey's Candy Kisses! You've been cheading, are-en't you ashamed?
You are a cheader. Here Professor Doktor Kempner can read your
peepee like it's an autobiography. So just forget it. Try a book.
Let's see, a little Thomas Wolfe? Local boy wasn't he, from Asheville
or somewhere? Oh, no! Not with those scrumptious descriptive
passages about the feasts Mama Cant used to whip up for the boarders.
And God, do you remember that one about going out to the
circus early in the morning with his brother to work for free passes?
Sneaking into the food tent to watch the performers shovel down
tnose mamcnoth breaktastst Do you remember how ne goes on about
the smell of the coffee bubbling pungently in the big silvered
urns, the oatmeal and rich heavy cream, mounds of hotcakes soaking
up butter and syrup, the snapping of the eggs on the grill and the
rashers of smoked bacon? No! And stay away from Henry Miller,
too, that bastard, with his midnight sensualist's snacks of wursts and
funky cheeses and Westphalian ham and moist black bread spread
with sweet butter. Him with his fruits and tortes and chilled Mo-
Well, try the tube then. No cooking shows, no Julia or the Galloper
for God's sake, and just try to ignore the commercials. Ooooh,
that one where they show how that butterball turkey bastes itself
from the inside with pure butter Betty Crocker Pop Tarts
A & P oooh. Take a walk. Go over to the "Y" for some
volleyball. But no picking off the room-service trays on your way,
so embarrassing when you get nabbed. And stay away from that
poisonous little carry-out near Lamond. Dinner's only an hour
away. Dinner? Some lousy supe. -scrubbed rice and a little fruit,
glass of lousy tea? You call that dinner? And still eighty-five pounds
till goal? Oh, I think I wanna die "Lord, these folks is o-beast!"
a local cabbie drawls in wonderment, and he ain't wrong, he ain't
wrong. Most Durhamites are pretty blase about the ricers by now
(it takes a really extraordinary case to make heads swing in the street
anymore), but due to the insularity of the ricers and the natural
suspicions of many small-town folks, the camps coexist pretty much
in an atmosphere of latent hostility. Of course the fact that most
ricers don't hit town exactly penniless hasn't excaped the attention
of the locals, neither the businessmen nor the Main Street cowpokes
who make the easy rounds of the ricer ladies. The general sentiment
of the transient diet community is probably best summed up in this
quote from "The Rotund Ricer," a nonofficial, unauthorized under-
ground sheet which mysteriously appears from time to time and whose
editorial content is mostly devoted to gossip, jabs at Kempner, and
a running stream of invective aimed at the locals. "Ricers are, more
often than not, misunderstood, misinterpreted, misconstrued, and
generally abused by almost every straight group and individual in
the goddamn, half-assed city of Durham, North Carolina. We are only
tolerated because we spend a goddamned lot of money in this god
forsakened (sic) place. So go on and do your damnedest Durham.
We can take it. And we'll leave tons of blubber all over this miserable,
On the other hand many of the locals resent what they consider
a condescending attitude on the part of the ricers. "These people
been coming here for years from places like New York and Phila-
delphia and Chicago, thinking that we all walk around with straw
hanging out of our mouths," says a young Durham guy. "But you
know something. We got some slicks of our own around here ana
sometimes they get that hayseed impression changed for them real
To that, many ricers would say a simple "Amen." "There's two
kinds of prices in this town," says a disenchanted ricer lady from
Miami. "Regular and ricer. We're the original ones you can see
coming from a mile away." But these aren't necessarily unanimous
views. Some ricers excape the psychic walls that dieting builds and
carve out a life of their own here. Elaine, for example, is almost
a local herself, she's been here so much. She has a local circle
of friends, teaches in a school for abnormal children ("I think I got
some special insights that can help them") and stays here much of
the time even when she isn't on service.
Still, the hands across the water are fevy. "You want to hear
something that'll really kill you?" asks Jeannie. "There's a shop here,
a clothing shop, that caters to ricer women. Extra-large sizes you
know? It's like one of those places where you can go and get a
size-52 bathing suit if you need it, things like that. Well, you want
to hear what the name of that shop is? 'The Wee Shop.' 'The Wee
Shop!' That knocks me out. One time I asked the woman why in
the world she ever decided to call the place 'The Wee Shop.' She
said she thought it was kind of a cute name."
If you stay in Durham long enough you are bound to hear about
Betty's Turkey Caper. Just as soldiers dig sitting around and rapping
what they call war stories — tales of sexual derring-do — so ricers
love swapping fables of prodigious eating feats, of super-conspicuous
consumption. You hear of Jimmy G. who could knock off forty-
five hot dogs in a sitting, or Ramon who can go through a case
of beer in a snap, or of the unnamed guy who, after a successful
stay at the clinic during which he dropped a good eighty pounds,
gained twenty-one back during the car trip home by hitting every
diner, general store and restaurant on the way. You talk to a lady
who claims to have perfected the art of using a lettuce leaf for
a mayonnaise kife when she sneaks downstairs for a midnight cheat
because she knows her husband and kids have ears which are attuned
to the sound of the silver drawer being opened.
But the undisputed supreme all-time number-one champion is Betty
and her Turkey Caper. It comes up almost every time ricers gather.
Betty wears her laurels with consummate grace and her infamy
has not turned her head. Like all great champions she has retained the
common touch. Only rarely will she make the slip into immodesty.
"Have you ever met anyone who gained forty pounds in tour days?"
she asks expectantly. "That's the big time. That's major league hinging.
I'm the only one I know who ever did that."
Betty, in fact, has taken that one radical step past the rice diet.
She has had the fabled "bypass" operation, a medical procedure which
ranks among the fat in approximately the same place as the famed
Vincent Black Shadow holds among motorcycle freaks.
It's hard to get a doctor to approve the "bypass." Kempner frowns
on it severely. One must be able to convince the physician that
one's obesity is an irredeemably permanent condition. Last May, after
years on the rice diet, Betty was able to do this. "They figured out
that if I ever got down to 120 I'd have to restrict myself to 300
calories a day just to maintain, which is totally impossible. My body
works too well, it just assimilates everything I eat."
When the bypass is performed the surgeon ties off all of the
lower intestine except for a foot at the top and a foot at the bottom.
This leaves approximately eighteen feet of lower intestine out of work.
It cuts way down the time the body has to assimilate what is ingested
before it is passed on through. Since her operation Betty has dropped
some 75 pounds and expects to get down to 120 in about three
But yes, the Turkey Caper. It was a dark and stormy night some
four years ago. Betty was in the hospital on a fast. Dr. Kempner
had been accusing her of cheating and she swore she wasn't, so
he resolved the matter by putting her on a fast.
"I had been fasting for three and a half weeks in the hospital.
I was hungrier than you can believe. It was the night before Thanks-
giving. I was walking through the halls going to visit a friend in another
room. When I walked past the kitchen I noticed that the door
was open, which was something that never happened in that hospital.
I looked in and lo and behold, there was row upon row of turkeys all
lined up, waiting for the feast the next day. I didn't go in but
continued on to my friend's room. I said to myself. 'If it's God's
will that that door be open and those turkeys still be there when
I come back, then it must be God's will that I have turkey for
Thanksgiving.' Lo and behold they were still there. I ran to my
room and put my robe on and dashed back to the kitchen. I
grabbed the biggest bird I could find and stuffed it up under by
nightgown. What I didn't know was that the turkeys had just been
taken from the oven when I first saw them and they were still
cooling. I burnt the hell out of myself but of course I couldn't
tell anyone about it. How do you tell a doctor you've got turkey
burns? Anyway, on the way to my room what haooens but I run
into a nurse. Hello, now are you feeling, she says, she wants to
chat awhile. Uh, not too good, I tell her. In fact, I was just going
to lie down. Feeling a little woozy, you know. What was happening,
I was discovering to my horror, was that the damn turkey was leaking.
I could feel this hot turkey fat dripping down my legs, and I
looked down at the floor and saw this big puddle of grease forming.
I got out of there quick. But before 1 went to my room I headed
for a scale so I could weigh it. I wanted to be able to document this
heist. I knew how much I weighed so I just had to subtract that
from the total to find what he weighed. Nineteen pounds. That
mother was nineteen pounds. I got back to my room at nine
o'clock and started in on it. By three in the morning I had stripped
his carcass clean. I was very proud. But then I had the problem of
disposing of the evidence. I started flushing the bones down the
toilet. Have you ever tried to flush a turkey breast down a toilet? It
wouldn't fit so I finally threw it out the window. Kempner never
found out. The next day when they weighed me I had gained eleven
pounds. He was baffled. He never was able to figure out how someone
could gain eleven pounds spontaneously. That fast was a lot of fun.
Also during that time I used to send myself CandyGrams and charge
them to Kempner."
There's a stretch leading out of Durham on Roxboro Road that the
ricers call Destruction Row. Some of them call it Sin Alley but the
idea is the same. In the space of a couple of blocks you drive past
an Arby's Roast Beef, a Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizzaville, Dunkin'
Donuts, Shoney's Big Boy, McDonald's, and Fowler's Food Store.
Ground has been broken for a Sizzler Steak House. Poison. That
franchise junk is bad enough for anybody, but for the rice dieters it's
sheer poison. A lot of ricers will make very complicated detours just to
get to Roxboro Road. Same way with Northgate Shopping Center where
The Swiss Colony cheese shop offers free samples to browsers. Same
with the Dairy Queen on Trinity Street and the Mayberry Ice Cream
Shoppes scattered around town. Same with Gino's and Hardee's and
Burger King (home of the notorious Whopper), and with the Dobb's
House, the Ivy Room and Howard Johnson's. Just thank God that the
Baskin-Robbins is all the way over in Raleigh, although you can whiz
over there for a quick bit of Jamocha Almond Fudge or English
Toffee in oh, no time at all.
Melody has a memory of an epic day on Destruction Row. It
was New Year's Day a year ago and a bunch of ricers were sitting
around this motel room, moping away with the old away-from-home
holiday downs and just being hungrier than hell, which wasn't any-
thing unusual except that somehow being hungry on a holiday adds
a new dimension to it, just so god damned hungry they were
going absolutely bonkers with food fantasies, until finally someone said,
well, screw it. I mean just screw it. I'm gonna die if I don't get some-
thing to eat. This is ridiculous. Well, that's all it took; everybody just sort
of caved in. Classic mob psychology Melody calls it.
"I managed to resist it although I was hungry too," she says.
"Hell, you're always hungry on the rice diet, ravenous. I mean
it's really a bitch. But I was lust dead set against cheating. I was
losing really good at the time and I was so damned tired of being
fat that I wasn't going to cheat for anything. But I was the only
one who had a car and they wanted to binge. I didn't mind driving
them around even though I knew I was going to be sorely tempted."
So they all jumped into Melody's car and headed out to Destruction
Row. Okay, where do you want to hit first? Melody asks them.
Listen, says this chick Margo in the back seat who was. Melody
says, really a blimp, it doesn't matter where we hit first because
before this is over we're gonna hit 'em all anyway. Just pull in
somewhere. Melody, for Christ's sake.
"Oh, man, you wouldn't believe it. I mean I've been a gorger
all my life but I'd never seen anything like this. You figure here's
five people, rea//y fat, their whole lives have been centered around
food. And here they've been on this really brutal starvation diet for
months, maybe doing a little minor cheating here and there but no
big thing, you know? And all of a sudden they collectively decide
to pull out all the stops. Maybe they wouldn't have gone off
the deep end like this by themselves. I don't know, but wow,
they were all in it together, you know, like a band of thieves
or school kids on a tear or something. That car was carrying a
lot of accumulated hunger. We went from Pizzaville to Colonel Sanders
over to McDonald's then back to Dunkin' Donuts, just getting bags
and bags of this junk. Rabid. And as far as I could see they were
totally guiltless. It had come to that. We drove around for a couple
of hours while they consumed all this stuff, which by the way was
driving me mad, but I held out, God knows how. Then somebody
said that since we had gone this far we should head over to Howard
Johnson's for some sundaes. You know, let's do it up right. That's
when the first pangs of guilt started to set in. Like two of the girls
decided to split a hot fudge sundae instead of having one a piece.
A little atonement, you know. Of course they each had a couple of
brownies to help get it down."
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jiii w ii i »i i| ii ij i , i | i , 'iy*-
In Contradiction of "America is My Honne"
Sure, okay, I'll admit that America is my home, but now
I feel the pressures, agonies, and pain of my brothers
Now, I am as hungry or hungrier than they. Mr. white man
doesn't want to "open the doors of opportunity" for us.
Being black is a blessing. To have a heritage that we have makes
us the luckiest people in the world. Just to know what it was
all like before shows me how far we have come, and where
we are going,
if my brothers and sisters were mistreated, then I was
mistreated; my forefathers were oppressed, and so
am I; we struggle and I struggle.
This country, I will admit is my home (according to the theory
that where you are born is your homeX But
to be a part of this race, you have to have another
Mr. Wallace would say I'm free now, but I say it's just a
beginning. I'm not as free as I want to be, but when
the time comes, I'm gonna be.
It's true, freedom means a lot; that's why, when we are free,
it's gonna be a wonderful thing. We're gonna know,
finally, what freedom really means.
Trinity College Freshperson
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"The ram the bell
the game we won at
last. We won at last.
Thank God almighty, we
won at last."
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nversationwith ncll iTicgeachy
Chanticleer: Coach, you played both basketball and football. You
were even with the Atlanta Falcons for a while. What made you,
if you had reached a higher level in football than basketball as
a participant, decide to coach basketball?
McCeachy; Tennis was my first love, as a young man. It evolved
into basketball. I did not play football in college. Its' a misleading
thing. My class graduated in June, 1965 and during that spring after
the basketball season was over the football coach said "You have
5 years to play with 4 years of eligibility, why don't you come out
6 play?" While my eligibility in basketball had expired, I did have
football eligibility because I never played one day of collegiate football.
We were talking, and I knew at that point, much before then even,
that I wanted to coach. So, it seemed to me like a good idea to
have exposure on a college football team. Lenoir Rhyne has won
the NAIA football championship and has played for that championship
more than any other small school in the country. Lenoir Rhyne
football was really a quality thing. So, they agreed to play me as
a wide receiver. To entice me to come back and because I would
be graduating at mid-year and how many good basketball jobs could
I get at that time, they created this assistant basketball coaching
position, which they had not had before, for the remaining semester.
I went back and I played football and we were undefeated and won
our conference championship. Then things really began to snowball.
Atlanta was an expansion team that year and they sent some scouts
up and looked at films. It was incredible to me. But, it was too
good an opportunity and i signed a bonus and I stuck that in my
pocket. With it I bought myself a car. It was something that I wanted
to do and it was an experience I couldn't afford to not take advantage
of. That's what happened in football.
Four years later, since I had played college basketball, I had the
chance to try out with the Carolina Cougars. Because of the timing,
1 would have been a 26 year old rookie. That was a good experience.
From there I went to Davidson College.
Chant.: I'd like to know what you do, what Duke does as a matter
of course in the way of recruiting and recruiting procedures.
McC: I guess, probably in 1959, but certainly in the early 60's,
right after Bubas had come from State to Duke as the head coach,
(his organization was really ahead of its time as far as recruiting
was concerned^, he set up over a period of his first three or four
years at Duke a formula which has really, at this point, been copied
by nearly every major college in the country. First comes a letter
to some of the guidance people or the principal at a prospect's
high school. That's the very beginning. It is a way of getting some
kind of contact through his grades. Then, a letter is sent to the
prospect stating Duke's interest. I would say that even though we're
only able, literally, to come down to one third of the player —
recruiting pool because of academic restrictions, we'll still write
between 3500 and 4500 letters a year, just making the general contact.
Of these we'll probably only sign four kids. The NCAA ruling at
this point is 6 maximum. Once we have the initial contact, then
we go out. All the assistants have territories — areas of the country
that they are specifically responsible for. Then the top assistant
would cross over as we begin to evaluate the talent. It's a never
ending job. It is a twelve month recruitmg cycle and as soon as
the players for one year are signed then we begin again right into
the next. The earlier a contact can be made, and I mean literally
the freshman or sophomore year of a high school player, the better
it is. The NCAA is coming down on recruiting for camps, but again,
2 or 3 years ago that was very popular. You'd try and get a good,
young, promising player to come and spend a week on your campus
at the clinic, or camp, or whatever each school calls it.
Then, there are all kinds of services, name services. Some guys
are really legitimate and other guys are just basically flesh peddlers.
In the last two years the NCAA has sanctioned these name services.
Duke takes like 4 major ones from all over the country. Some are;
Howard Garfinkle, who is the big name magnate in New York, Dave
Bones in Toledo, Ohio, and Bill Kronauer in St. Petersburg, Florida.
These people cover the entire country. Then there are subidentities.
A guy may offer name services only in the state of Pennsylvania.
There are a couple of guys in North Carolina that serve just the
state of North Carolina. And, as fan interest has grown in recruiting,
there are a lot of young, aggressive newspaper guys who are on
top of every rumor, every innuendo that goes with recruiting. Because
Duke has, in the past, been willing to spend money to get the
better players, to be a national contender, our recruiters have been
out all over the country. As a result the name services, the name
lists, have not really been that much of a help in most of the major
college's recruiting. It has however for those colleges that don't
have a super budget to be able to get out and see all of these
players individually. It is a good name source for us, and they do
carry four sets of grades, freshman through senior in high school.
Most of them have a little identification of each player's strengths
and weaknesses, board scores and that kind of thing. So, that generally
is the paper work procedure.
Chant.: For somebody like Butch Lee, who you are recruiting quite
heavily, how do you reach him? Flow do you cut through the flak
generated by four or five hundred schools recruiting him?
McC..' There is an element of luck, OK? But I think basically it
comes down to just going over and over and over again to see
him. We were recruiting him, probably really began to recruit him
as a junior, early in his junior year.
Garfinkle, who we mentioned earlier, has a camp in Pennsylvania
in the summer where he brings all his outstanding talent together
and I guess it's kind of a cattle show in some respects. All the
coaches in the country come in and they have games going and
drills and everything. You have a captive opportunity to evaluate
the talent, which we did and had a chance to get to know Butch.
We went right into his home. We went from Pennsylvania right
into Harlem to meet with his mother and spend some time with
Butch. We really began courting him at that point, lim Lewis (Duke
assistant coach) was able to establish effective rapport with him and
would go, say, maybe once amonth. Jim had been there maybe
two more times other than that. He would generally go with me.
This way you have a chance to start building some kind of relationship
with him. It eventually comes down to where does he want to go
to school and has he begun to narrow his choices. It came down
to Penn. in the Ivy League, which does not give a full grant in
aid. Instead it is based on need and he would receive their full
grant. Marquette was another which he considered, but was initially
concerned about; the cold weather, Milwaukee and everything. That
wasn't attractive to him, and then there was Duke and Detroit.
Chant.: Could you comment on academics in respect to recruiting,
the 800 rule, projected grades, etc. and how it affects an academically
oriented school such as Duke.
McC: I'm not sure that a Duke or a Davidson, or a Virginia can
ever really do it again. (Have a nationally powerful team;. The 1.6
or the 800 rule which was tested 2'/2 years ago by two non-scholarship
trackmen down at Clemson, was found unconstitutional in the courts
and was subsequently thrown out. It was really, for our schools,
the ones I've been associated with (Duke & Davidson), just a floor.
It didn't really help us, but at least it kept the others kind of at
bay. Then the 800 rule went out they went to a 1.6 projection that
was still a tabulation of class rank and SAT's. This was a projected
D + and if a kid doesn't have a D + average should he be there any-
how? Still, it was a floor. Now they've gone within the last calendar
year (o a C average in high school as a prerequisite. It sounds like they're
tightening it up, but it really is an absolute joke by the good academic
school's standards. Now all a young man has to have is a numerical
C average at his school. There are all kinds of examples but let's
take probably the most notarized, Moses Malone, Whereas, before,
he would have to have a class rank probably in the top half and
SAT scores in the 700 to 750 total range plus his cumulative average.
Now they say all he has to have is a C average. When you stop
and think a minute, that average can be manipulated easiest of
the three. For example, if I like the way you part your hair I'm
going to say "Well yeah, I'm going to give you an 82.' But it's
awfully hard for me to write to Princeton and say "Hey, this guy
parts his hair right, let's raise his SATs 100 points." So, the protective
floors for the quality academic schools are just being eroded on
a yearly basis and it's just going to make it tougher and tougher
to compete. With a C average now, Duke can technically take a
player but it comes down to an administrative viewpoint. Is it worth
it to dilute the quality of your degree by taking an athlete who,
under normal circumstances can't pass an entrance qualification point.
You also have to come to a realistic thing, can the young man
come to Duke University, be comfortable and have a hopeful chance
of graduating? This was probably a major factor in Butch Lee's
decision. He could have been admitted to Duke, but could he
have been comfortable academically and could he eventually have
graduated on schedule in four years?
Chant.: Changing subjects here, I'm going to ask a question I've
been dying to ask. You don't have to answer if you don't want
to, but do you feel like you got shafted jobwise?
McC. I guess not, technically. Generally the ground rules were
laid back in October. I was disappointed with the timing of both
the fall and spring decisions, but I guess that reflects more on
individuals than some other things.
Chant.; There was a lot of indignation both by players and general
University community over the handling of the situation, letters written,
etc. I was wondering if you think this type of activity had any influence
on the administration, on the Athletic Council which is supposed
to be representative and responsible to students, and on the Athletic
McC; Well, I have to obviously be very careful on this point.
But, I'm going to be very candid. I think, if anything, it had almost
a negative influence. I think that public comment at the end became
very resented by those who had the final choice, and while the
intentions were very noble in my opinion, as it turned out they
were generally costly. One of the things you mentioned is that
the players were generally supportive, for which I am very grateful,
throughout and even at the end. I think we all realize that it just
simply takes a matter of time to be able to establish an identity,
to be able to organize a staff of your own choosing, to be able
to implement your own philosophy. You can do it on a game to
game situation, but it takes a period of time and I think all of
us were aware of that. I think it's going to take whoever tries to
do the job 3 years probably and that's somewhat accelerated because
of the freshman eligibility, which really throws out the old time
Chant: I was wondering about their late choice of you as coach
this past year. Did their delay set your program back a great deal?
McC.: To a degree, I think if they had moved quickly, had named
me active, acting, interim, whatever the prefix, coach, if that would
perhaps have been done almost the day that Bucky resigned then
I think we would have had an easier changeover. But to have gone
to the point where we literally had had 3 days of practice, that
stretched it out pretty far.
Chant.; A big question that was going around Duke was about
your contract. I'm not going to ask you specifics, but obviously
it wasn't long term. I think that, like you were saying, a coach
is going to need time to get his philosophy indoctrinated into the
team and into the system. Didn't it present some mental blocks
to you, knowing that nothing was that definite as far as next year
and the year after? Did it change any of your coaching outlooks,
the way you were trying to run things?
McC: That's a very perceptive question and the answer is yes. I
knew the term of the contract, obviously a one year contract, but
I thought that my team would be better served if they were not
aware that it was one year with some priorities set up for retaining
the job. The record, at that point was at the bottom of those
priorities. (There was an amazing ability of those priorities to change
in rank over the course of a season. J The short term was a factor.
I know that we initiated — I'm not going to say a stall, but a
semi-stall — for instance, in the Big-4 tournament at Wake Forest
while most of the students were away for the holidays. Basketball
is a game of quickness and Wake was quicker at every position
than we were. We |ust telt like we had to be able, as a result,
to shrink the clock. To take some lime off the clock we had to
try and dictate the tempo in that particular game. Following a game
such as the State & UNC game which had been played 20 minutes
before we started it was a particularly unpopular type thing. If you
have a 5 year contract you can afford to say, let's go ahead and
live with the immediate criticism for a long range goal. I don't know.
I don't know in my own mind if that's simply a rationalization
or if it's a factor, but it's something that played on my mind throughout
the season. The fact that when we went to Chapel Hill, when they
were ranked 6th in the country, to play them in a 1:00 TV game
and the Athletic Council had met at 10:00 A. M. that morning
and I knew the result of that meeting, all these things have a
tendency to sap you over the period of a season.
Chant.: They gave you a decision to go ahead late. They also gave
you a decision on termination somewhat late, after many jobs that
were previously open were already landed by other people, like
Davidson, Virginia, ECU, and there must have been others. Are you
unhappy with the fact that they couldn't have made their decision
McC: Everything's cycled at this time of year. There were an unusually
large number of what I call quality, major college basketball jobs
open. I had a decision to make as to whether I would see the
Duke situation through to the end, whether I would resign, or as
quietly as possible, while I still had the one job seek another job.
1 just felt that I did want to see it through to the end, perhaps
fatalistically, 1 don't know. As the eventual timing worked out, these
jobs that I would have been interested in as head coach had come
and gone. But, I have no major regrets from my experience at Duke.
There was never anything dull about it during the 3 years that I
was here. I wish Duke very well. I've talked with Bill Foster on
a number of occasions and he seems like a very outstanding person
and certainly a very competent coach. I think Duke will do well
Chant.; Would you like to talk about the season. Maybe a general
overview, how it went, your reactions to it, etc?
McC: O.K., I thought that we had an unusually good, particularly
under the circumstances of the beginning, an unusually good pre-
practice 6 weeks period of time. It was relatively free from injury,
Kevin had an ankle that kept him out for a week or so, and of
course there's Dave O'Connel who was hurt in the summer. That
was a disappointment to me because I felt like, you know we were
talking about quickness, and he's the epitomy of the big, quick
guard. But we were generally injury free and the schedule was advanta-
geous to us early. I would perhaps have preferred to play Virginia
in January rather than open the conference schedule, particularly
on a road game, in December, but that was something that was
already set. I knew what the schedule was going to be before
I took the job, so that's no excuse, it's just looking at it as a coach
would from all different angles. We got off to a good start. I can
remember thinking about it, back in the summer, even before Bucky
offically resigned. You know how your mind races. I've said before
1 never had a non-basketball related thought, and I think that basically
true. I guess if a guy sold insurance he would probably be thinking
about insurance. I can remember imagining, what if I did get the
job, under some set of circumstances, (I didn't even know that Bucky
was really going to resign). Then, opening with ECU I just had this
phobia. I don't know if you guys have ever gotten ready to go
on a trip and you have this premonition that it's not going to work
out well, but I could just imagine it. It's always been important
to me to win the coaching debut type thing. I had this great fear
that we would in fact lose to ECU. Of course we started the game
with a technical. Chris Redding had been found dunking m pre
game warmup. (Here goes the rookie coach out on his debut and
he's down 0-1, and then they throw the ball in from the side and
we're down 0-3 and we haven't even had our hands on the ball
yet. I was beginning to wonder what kind of a season we were
really in for. Then we started to blow em out, Kevin got in some
foul trouble and they came back, and it was kind of nip and tuck.
As it turned out ECU ended the year with a pretty fair team. It
was good to get it behind us, and then we went to William and
Mary and they were anticipating a great season. They were young
but all their players had started as freshmen. Willie Hodge was mag-
nificent. That was probably, other than the three Carolina games,
his finest individual effort. In front of a very hostile crowd we hung
on and won and I was very pleased to win on the road and to
win convincingly at the end. Then we had 3 days to get ready
for Virginia. I really thought we were ready to play. We went up,
and through some element of chemistry, I'm not sure how you
can really define it, we were not ready to play, which I think reflects
on me, and they blew us out. In fairness to them, they did play
out of their minds, and shot like 63° o for the game. When you
play a team that shoots like that on their own home floor, and
you don't play well, you can lose by 20 points, which is what happened
to us. Then we came back and struggled during exams, when there
weren't many stuoents there, with Appalachian. That was a game
we knew we should win and probably win by 40 points, and as
I've said that's the hardest kind of game to get ready for. We were
bad and luckily they were worse than we were. We were able to
win, go into the exam break at 3-1. Then we went to Florida. We
opened with Western Kentucky who had gotten off to a great
start. Fortunately we beat them. As I look back over the season
and try to project the kind of record that we would have, I really
don't think we beat anybody we weren't supposed to with probably
the exception of Western Kentucky. Then in less that 24 hours I
don't think we lost to anybody that we were supposed to beat
with maybe the exception of the University of Florida although they
were a little better than the reading public m this area was aware
of. We had a chance. We were 4-1 after the Western Kentucky
win. We knew we had Yale coming up and we were going to
play Florida for the Gator Bowl Championship, which was unusual
because they had the night before upset Jacksonville, which was
at that time ranked 9lh or 10th in the country. That was the tip
of the peak, as far as our being able to go into the Big-4 tournament,
when the schedule got really tough into January. But we lost to
Florida and thai made us 4-2, and then we played Yale and just
destroyed them, they were terrible. We were 5-2 and went into
the Big-4 and drew Wake Forest, which was the one team in the
field that we could compete with. They had really been enhanced
by Cal Stamps' junior college player's arrival, although everybody
wasn't aware of it at the lime. Skip Brown, the little jet point guard,
really turned their team around and opened up the shooting game
for Tony Byers. So we played Wake in the Big 4 and ended up
losing by about 3 points, but it was an extremely dull game to
watch. Yet the things that we tried to do I was personally pleased
with. I thought we played them about as well as we could have
played them. Then we played Carolina the next night and they were
supposed to beat us by 30 points and they ended up by Elision
hilling a shot at the buz/er and they beat us by 9. I was really
impressed though, because so many people began to emerge. Thai
was the emergence of Paul Fox and Bill Suk. We were beginning
to play better, though at that point Pete Kramer was in somewhat
of a slump. He's not going to appreciate me saying that, but that's
about where we were. From that point on the schedule was just
unbelievable. In ten days we played four teams, three of them in
the top five, three of them within five days. It was Saturday, Monday,
Wednesday before going out to Notre Dame and playing them on
the following Saturday so things got tough. We battled back and
forth at 500. I think we were 8-8 before we went down 8-10, 8-11,
something like that. We had a chance to get back. We beat Davidson.
Chant. Was that a good personal victory for you?
McC; Yes, with all those players, seniors and juniors, that 1 had
helped recruit, I'd be less than honest if I didn't say I enjoyed
that. I've got to remember Mike Sorrentino, who I think very highly
of, just literally screaming at me, in the first four seconds of the
game. Billerman took a charge on him and Sorrentino just went
berserk right in front of our bench and was screaming at me and
the official gave him a technical, and we were off, like the ECU
game, to about a three zip start on them. I enjoyed that one. Then
we played Georgia Tech. and it was terrible. I guess the highlight
of that game was, what's the cat's name, who lit the cigarette, and
brought the house down. That was the highlight of that game. So
that put us back right at 500. We beat Virginia for the 1000th win,
which was gratifying. I was more pleased that it was a conference
win, but still, that was a highlight. From there we had a series of
unbelievably close games. We played Maryland, who was heavily
favored and we ended up being only one point down with possession.
They had gotten off to a great start. They were 8-0 against us at
the start of the game and we came back with a flurry and were
up about 8 points at the half. It was back and forth. That was a
game we could conceivably have won. Right before that we had
played State. I thought we played State two games, particularly the
one at Duke, that were extremely close. For a half in Raleigh we
were in the game before we got into a little foul trouble. But then
after the Maryland game we went to Clemson. The season was
peaking then. We knew that we could win these two games and
finish fifth, perhaps as high as fourth, which would, at either spot,
enable us to play Virginia in the tournament, which was much more
attractive to us than playing either Carolina, State, or Maryland. We
went to Clemson and it was a one point game again with 35 seconds
to go. That was when Tree Rollins and Captain Kevin Billerman
got into their helicopter fight. Rollins picked him up and turned
him around like a rotor. We lost that game by about 3 points.
Then we went over to Chapel Hill for the season's finale. We
were such a long shot, the odds were so incredibly against us, that
I think it enabled us to play with total abandon, so to speak. Every-
body was just very loose and very relaxed. We had handled their
full court pressure for 39 minutes with a minimum of turnovers.
It looked like, at one point, we couldn't lose with an 8 point lead
and the celebrated 17 seconds and everything. When we lost that
game it was just like pulling the plug so tar as our emotions and
trying to establish another emotional peak were concerned. We had
just gone through the three extremely close Maryland, Clemson,
and Carolina games. Without deluding ourselves we still had a pretty
good week of preparation for the tournament. I didn't however
have a good gut feeling going into it. As it turned out, although
we didn't know it on Thursday, Maryland just played unbelievably
well all three nights of the tournament, itiey took State mto overtime
before losing the conference championship. It was somewhat like
Virginia in that I didn't think we played that well in the first round,
but Maryland played so incredibly well that there was just no
way we could win it.
Chant. What was going through your mind in the last few seconds
of the Carolina game?
McG: I think I made the comment that my whole life flashed across
my mind. All the pieces of the puzzle, from when I was a little
kid shooting until I really began to analyze basketball and be able
to play collegiately, all the things that had brought me to this point
in time, went phffft right across my mind. It was unbelievable. Every-
body had played so well, obviously or we wouldn't have been in
the game like that. Billerman had played well. Chris Redding had
shot remarkably well. Pete Kramer had played well. Bill Suk
everybody had played well. Fleischer was boarding although he'd
been in foul trouble early in the game and out almost the whole
first half. Everything had gotten us to that point. Kevin on a made
basket, but a charge, fouled out with about two minutes to go.
That left Edgar, who is really like a 2 guard, a big guard, a scoring
guard, as is Paul Fox in my opinion, and put us with 2 shooting
guards but no true ball handling guard to try to hold off their
pressure. Then, in a very controversial play, on an in bounds reception,
(in the films we went over and over this with the supervisor of
officials of the ACC,) Paul Fox caught the ball, but he deflected
it and hit it to the floor, which is not a controlled dribble. Consequent-
ly, technically, depending on how you view the film, he did have
another dribble. Actually he had his first dribble. They said, however,
that he had dribbled, and then when he picked the ball up and
pivotpd away from pressure and put the ball on the floor again
they called him for double dribble. It happened right in front of
our bench. Paul had been playing so well. That gave them possession
and they then played for the last shot. When we double dribbled
and they called a time out, we said if they score we want a time
out. And they had the inbounds play and Bill Suk blocked Walter
Davis' jump shot and we came up with the bell. Then just from
reflex we called a time out, which we probably would have done
better off without and go ahead and go directly into overtime.
We went with this inbounds play. Paul Fox made the pass, Bobby
Jones anticipated it greatly. I don't think it's to Paul's discredit but
to Bobby's credit. On one dribble he laid the ball in. That too
was a draining factor. Three nights later we had to play Wake Forest
and we were just wiped out emotionally, so as it turned out it
ended up costing us two games, it should never happen but it
Two weeks later, after Neil had accepted an offer from Cal Tacy
to become an assistant coach at Wake Forest University we talked
Chant; As a follow up to what we had talked about before, I was
wondering if you could tell us what has happened in the last couple
McG: O.K. To move very quickly, within ten days from our last
conversation I had a call from Cal Tacy after Bobby Watson had
resigned from his staff to go to Oral Roberts University in Tulsa.
I had begun to narrow my choices. I had it down to about three
things in business. This call kind of changed the equation a little
and I went to Winston and talked to him there. I decided the
following Monday that I would join his staff. I think he's taken
the program in great strides. There is a lot to be done, but I think
he's done a great deal, so I'm excited about going to Winston-
Salem and I'm looking forward to coaching at Wake.
Chant; What were you going to do if you didn't find any coaching
positions? Did you think of going into business for a year or two
and then trying to come back?
McG; I don't know. It's awfully hard to get back in. I guess that
for every job there are two or three hundred people interested.
No, it's tough enough even getting into the college level from high
school. To get out a year would have been risky. That was really
the main thing other than my attraction to Cal Tacy, the fact that
while I had some things that I think I would have enjoyed doing
there was nothing I could not do two years from now in business.
On the other hand I might never have a chance to get back into
Chani I'm sure you're interested in getting back into coaching at
a head coaching level. The difference must be very definite.
McC; I think that I am fortunate in that I haven't been a head
coach for four or five years. It would have been awfully hard to
have gone back to an assistant's role. Because I was simply there
for one season I think it's going to be a plus. It's going to
make me a better, more effective assistant to have seen it from
that point of view, to know the problems intimately, to know the
league and personnel of each team. I don't deny that definitely,
under a better set of circumstances, in a healthier environment,
I would like to be able to have an opportunity and the time to
build a program like I am hopefully capable of doing.
Chant: How do you think you're going to feel next year just coming
into the Indoor Stadium?
McC; I don't know. That's an unbelievably hard question. You know
I have such a genuine affection for our players. It's not like I left
them of my own free will, so hopefully there won't be this unusual
competitiveness from their standpoint like there was at Davidson
when we played them the three years I was at Duke. I'm sure it
will seem strange, perhaps a little eerie to come back to the visitor's
bench in the Indoor Stadium.
And so it goes. Neil McCeachy is now at Wake Forest. We will
miss him for he was a man of genuine character; sincere, hard
working, and caring. Our loss at Duke is Wake's gain and we look
forward to seeing the accomplishments yet to come from a man
of his age and talents.
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"A GLORIOUSLY FUNNY PLAY! "
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OraaNAL DIRECTDN BY
Richard Sjlbcrt Thunm Musscr ,\nthca Sibcrt
"SIMON S FINEST PLAY
SINCE THE ODD COUPLE."
THURS. JAN. 1^-4:00 & 8:30 P.M.
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4*. THE EXTEHMISATINC ANCLL
Erich von Strohoim's
A Short Histay
The Qirtoon 1879-1933
THE CHARISMATIC KING OF THE SWING ERA
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13TH • 8:15P,M
CAMERON INDOOR STADIUM
TICKETS: S5 50, $5.00, S4 50, $3,50
ON SALE AT THE PAGE BOX OFFICE
A PRESENTATION OF THE PERFORMING ARTS COMMITTEE
DUKE UNIVERSITY UNION
QGCTRIC kOOL-MD tCIDTGST
f HI LAIT
oiriovie based on fhe story by torn wolfe
courtesy 20H~i century fox)
ix 13 A K
lames Douthat, Assistant Dean of Student Affairs
Roger Corless, Religion
Mahadev Apte, Antttropology
Romesh Shonek, Slavic Languages
Harold Parker, History
Arif Dirlik, History
5.A. Wainwright, Zoology
Patrick Vincent, Romance Languages
George Williams, English
C.C. Newsome, Dean of Black Affairs
Herman Salinger, Germanic Languages
Norman Palmer, Political Science
James Applewhite, English
Rhetl T. George, Jr., Engineering
George Peanall, Dean of Engineering
Philip H. Triekey, Engineering
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We only need six more.
Would anyone have any extra tickets?
Ah yes. Why thanl< you sir.
I urge those of us gathered here today, from whatever
faculty or discipline, whether graduates honoris causa,
or graduates sweat-of-the-brow, not to under-estimate
the magnitude of the challenge we face or the extent
of the responsibility we bear.
Pierre Elliott Trudeau
Prime Minister of Canada
Our challenge is not a gloomy one of avoiding doomsday;
it is a joyous one of introducing into the world a dynamic
equilibrium between man and nature, between man and
Pierre Elliott Trudeau
Will the candidates for the degree of (fill
in appropriate degree) PLEASE RISE!
Pierre Elliott Trudeau, by the authority vested in me,
1 confer upon you the degree of Doctor of Laws, and
I admit you its rights, its privileges, and its obligations.
Holy shit! We finally made it!
Editor — Max Wallace
Photo Editor — Ross Dunseath
Layout Editor — Bob Pozner
Business Manager — Liz Ansley
M. M. Rideout
Volume 62, the 1974 Duke Chanticleer, was printed
by Josten's/American Yearbook Company's plant in
Ciarksville, Tennessee in a press run of 4800 copies.
The paper stock was 80 pound white gloss. Type
styles varied. Headlines were 30 pt. Optima lower
case and 144 pt. Franklin Gothic Condensed by Visi-
Type. Subheads were 18 pt. Optima lower case. Body
copy was set in 10 pt. and 8 pt. Optima upper and
lower case. The cover was embossed with a linen
grain and inlaid with silver foil. It also was done
We would particularly like to thank two people
at American. Terry Maultsby, our sales representative,
spent many, many long hours helping us put this
book out with some semblance of punctuality. We
would also like to thank Gary Dyer, our plant repre-
sentative, who continuously saved us from ourselves.
Without either of these men our task would have
been infinitely more difficult.
"College Confessions" drawn by Mike McCabe
"Fat City" art by Ted Hanenberg
Layout help by Cris Jacobs and Becker Holland
Neil McGeachy interview by Bob Pozner and Max
Wallace with help from Nola Heidlebaugh, Katie
Heidlebaugh, and Cindy MacLeod.
Poetry by Fredessa Hamilton
"Thank Yous" by popular acclaim and disclaim
To this bespectacled, grayhaired, chainsmoking, introspec-
tive, humorous, literate, soft spoken, visually sensitive, de-
manding man we dedicate our efforts on this book.
In a myopic world he has, in his low key way, given
us a great gift; the ability to see, truly see, if only for
an instant, the things others pass by. As we leave now and
go our separate directions, we shall all in our own ways
travel through life armed with velvet hands and hawk's eyes.
John Menapace, the Chanticleer thanks you.
The 1974 Duke Chanticleer Would Like to Thank:
THE 1974 DUKE CHANTICLEER WOULD LIKE TO THANK: Panama Red and his white horse Mescalito,
Nikola Tesia, Nippon Kogaku, K. K., G. M. and his friends in the Mafia, Rob Fix, Suzy Creamcheese,
Russel Bullock, Ansel Adams, Barbara Hedman & Co., Carlos Castenada, Francis Vincent Zappa, Albert
Einstein, Eastman Kodak (The Great Yellow Father), the Secretary in the Chorale Office, Govinda, United
Mutations, Pedro and Man, Richard Brautigan, the Man from Glad, Ernst Leitz & Co., Mary Jo Biancho,
C. G. Jung, Captain Kodak the V-8 Kid, most of the Duke faculty, one or two of the Duke administrators,
and the entire grounds crew, William Shakespeare, the Dope Shop Ladies, Andy Berlin, Sky King,
Jim Wilson, Billy the G, Mahavishnu John McGlaughlin, Dr. Russel Dionne, Spiderman and his Marvel
friends, Pamela Zarubica, Gotama Sakyamuni (The Buddha), Vince Lombardi, Jesus of Nazareth, Mr.
and Mrs. Philip Pozner, Katie, Becker, and Cindy, Billy Pilgrim, Hunter Thompson, Oliphant, the Durham
Chamber of Chaos, Porgy and Mudhead, Bosweil RIP, Nurmi, I. Croom Beatty, Robert Ballantyne, Phranque
and Pat, Marshall I. Pickens, Buffalo Bob Smith, Rupp, David Thompson (AKA god, with a small
'g' because we want to remain humble about this), Annie Leibowitz, Ceil Price, Ted Minah, Suitcase
Simpson, Tom Harp and Bucky Waters, Katherine Ross and Candice Bergen, Woody Allen, Clint Eastwood,
Little Billy Hanenberg and his friends on Tough Street, Mick Jagger, Peter Townsend, The Bear, Bokonon,
Elliot Rumsfoord, Dicky Betts and Elizabeth Reed, Waffle House, John Dean, Jim Morrison, Alexander
Solzhenitsyn, Cooks, Barger, the Clam, Chris, Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, et. al., Richard
Nixon and John Sirica, Jimmy Olsen, Billy the Mountain, Oedipus, Hieronymous Bosch, Edward Weston,
Minor White, Jim Young and the D. U. Publications Board, Ned Earle, Dr. Albert Hoffman, Hugh
Hefner, M. C. Escher, Thomas Pynchon, Muhammed Ali, .Walt Disney, Steve Rader, Stanley Gumas,
Odd Ogg, Bilbo Baggins and Gandalf, Regnad Kcin, Hemlock Stones and the Zeppelin Tube, Sgt.
Stedanko and Sister Mary Elephant, Signe Toly Anderson and Grace Slick, the Red Crayola and the
Familiar Ugly, Alan Freund, Tara, Confucius, Roger Corless, Lao-Tsu, Wimp the Pimp and Joe the Toe,
Hari-Kari, Madge, Marion L. Shepard, J. E. B. Stuart, Willie Ta-Kome, Rex the Wonder Dog, Lt. Col.
Charles B. Gault, AUS. Ret., Bunny Bixler, Honda Motor Co., Zona Arkus Duntov, Northgate Camera,
Camera and Photo Shoppe, (but definitely not Camera Corner), the Archive, the Chronicle (the alternative
publications), WDBS, David Douglas Duncan, Elaine Appel, Tom Wolfe, R. G. Wallace, Jr., Tom Stoppard,
John Clum, Ann Pelham, Burger King, Diane Arbus, the Old Trinity Club and, of course, all you
wonderful people out there in yearbook viewing land. We want to thank you all for making this
year what it was?
Duke University Libraries