War Eagle

Win for Auburn

Power of Dixieland.

This is inspired by my friend Chadd Scott.
Like Chadd, I am a proud journalism graduate of Auburn University.
Football is an important part of the culture here, but Auburn is not a football team. Auburn is a community, a history, and sharing in a common experience. Auburn’s biggest dream is realizing her potential and Auburn’s greatest potential has always been her people.

I want Auburn to win for:
A teacher – One of my favorite high school teachers, an Auburn grad.
A girl – She was a big part of the reason I chose to apply to Auburn.
Mr. Ethridge – Who gave me my scholarship. He died just last year.
Dean William Alverson – He helped raise that scholarship money and was my academic adviser. He retired just a few years ago.
My roommate – He and his family, all Auburn people, and all nicer to me than they had to be during my first two years at Auburn.
My friends from school – Those I’ve kept and those that drifted away.
Chadd – A friend of 15 years, he gave me my start on air, was always full of advice, helped me build an incredible professional foundation. He’s never asked for a thing in return.
For Jim and Rod and Andy and Bill and Paul – Auburn athletics wouldn’t sound the same without them.
For an old man – I sat next to him during the 2004 season. He said simply, “I went to school here when it was API.” He was impressed that season, and I’m sure he’s amazed by this one, too.
For my wife – She was undeclared until I brought her to her first game but she’s been an Auburn woman ever since. Now she teaches at Auburn.
For the family in Section 52 – They adopted us and let them sit in their section for years. They remember the Barfield years.
For the Browns – Another strong, proud, kind Auburn family that have been indescribably good to us over the years.
For Mr. Jimmy – He played on the 1957 championship team. He told me this season he doesn’t want to do it again, but I’d like to think he might change his mind Monday.
For Shug and Doug and Pat and Terry and Tommy and Gene – And for all of their coaches and players and staffers, the people fans really mean when saying “We won.”
[UPDATE] Stranded Auburn men and women – Headed to the game, but stuck at home in the snow. That’s not fair.
Like Housel said: “It is a spirit. It is an attitude. It is a way of looking at life and at one another. It is, almost, a way of living. Unless you have experienced it, you will never know what it is; you will never understand it. Once you have experienced it, you will never be the same. A part of you will, forevermore, be an Auburn man or an Auburn woman.”
Maybe you’ve heard my alma mater is playing for the national championship Monday night. Auburn lines up against Oregon and everyone that’s even a little bit emotionally invested is ready to see history be made in Glendale.
So this is a look back at history. In 1957 Auburn won its first national championship. These are pictures from that year’s Glomerata. Things certainly have changed.

The rare color photograph.

The cheerleaders of 1957. In a few of the action shots they look to be screaming fiercely.

Ralph “Shug” Jordan and his coaching staff.

These days Auburn boasts one of the largest HD screens around, measuring 30 feet high by 74 feet wide. In 1957 they had this.

Cliff Hare Stadium’s average attendance in three home games in 1957 was 27,667 per game. (The Tigers played in a handful of different venues back then.) The total attendance for the season’s on-campus games was 83,000. The modern Jordan-Hare Stadium seats 87,451.
The Tigers were in the middle of a 30-game home winning streak during the 1957 championship season.
That’s still Petrie Hall at the top of the picture. Built in 1939, it was named for George Petrie, a history professor, graduate school dean and Auburn football coach. He also penned The Auburn Creed. Petrie Hall used to be the athletic field house. Today that building houses COSAM and Geography offices.

How they celebrated in 1957.
UPDATE: This was picked up and adapted at The War Eagle Reader.
In college the running joke is that if someone called you told them you were at the library. Better than a parent hearing you were on a date or taking some road trip when you should have been pulling an all-night. When I was in undergrad I told my roommate to never tell my mother that if she called. She’d see right through it. I don’t care for libraries.
Books. I love books. I love to read. I’m writing this in our personal library at home. It needs a name, and we’re working our way toward one, but I feel the name of your private library should be carefully considered and evolved naturally. Unless you have a benefactor. And if someone gives you money for more shelves and books, then you name your library in their honor, send them cards every Thanksgiving and Christmas and let them borrow books whenever they want.
Anyway. I dislike libraries. Mostly because you go there with the idea of getting something done. A student goes to study. A reader goes to pick up a new book. I never checked out a great deal of books, but I’ve had to study once or twice in my academic career. And the library, I’ve found, is built for opposite purposes. There are so many books there! So much to read! So many things to learn! And, also, there’s this stuff I have to learn. I’ve come to accept this as one of the complex contradictions that make me the inscrutable individual I am.
But I had to visit the library today. There was a book or two I wished to pick up for my studies. I found them in the online catalog, made note of their numbers in the Library of Congress system and then set out for a visit.
I walked in, pulled out my spouse card and said “My wife is on the faculty here. Can I check out books with this?” The young lady deferred to her colleague. Again, then. The new person asks about fees. We’ve discussed them. I think I’ve paid something. The card works for other scanners on the campus. She makes a phone call to the department from whence the card was assigned. They’ve decided I should pay for the pleasure of checking out books.
Fine.
“How about this card?” I produce my faculty card at Samford. No.
“How about this card?” I produce my student card from Alabama. No.
This is a friendly chat, but frustrating. I’m an alum. My wife is on the faculty. I have two cards from other research institutions. But yet it will still require $20 to check out books. “That’s $20, annually, not $20 each time.” And thanks for that.
The supreme irony being that were I at Samford or Alabama today I could check out these same books from this library via the Interlibrary Loan agreements. They’d ship them across the better part of the state. Someone would even bring them to my department. This would all be done for free.
I have a better idea. The Yankee can come help. But the very nice lady quickly sends me an Email. Turns out I can check out books, as a graduate student from Alabama. So I grab a stack of books and visit one desk, the very nice lady, upon hearing all of this agrees, “Oh that’s bad.” She sends me to the first desk, who brings out the second woman. So, after five pleasant conversations and two phone calls, I have a stack of books.
And they are good, helpful books, so it all worked out.
I include this picture because there’s nothing else to tell you about but reading and writing and breaking a plate in the kitchen and starting a very small fire on the stove. I dropped a cup on the cracked plate and the little bits of paper met a warm stove eye. So there you go. So this picture, then. (Click to embiggen.)
The picture is from our New Year’s Eve Pie Day and I’ve been saving it for a slow day such as this. We were at Jim ‘N’ Nicks, where the light is a little low. In the shot with The Yankee she’s moving from menu to glance at the waiter as I took the picture. That’s why her shoulder somehow disappears. Despite all of that, this is fairly promising.
I’ve been searching for a good (and by good I mean usable and free) panoramic app for the iPhone. This one is that. The picture above was my first experiment.
For some reason it didn’t include the last photograph on the right. The app handles the stitching by itself. It isn’t perfect — but this is on a phone. If I were doing panoramas as I did on our honeymoon I would use my SLR and stitch them together the old fashioned way, by hand at 1400 percent magnification.
The big problem is that the shutter button isn’t exactly sensitive. On the upside, it makes the composite for you and saves it directly to the photo album. And it is free.
Also, I’ve picked up two other photo apps. I’ll let you know.

She’s helping.
Just a few things today. I neglected to add this yesterday in my jelly bean rant — and an update on that, the Sudafed capsules were about twice as big as the beans, yet we swallow one and chew the other — so I’ll finely get to it today.
In South Korea there is an Auburn graduate teaching English to young students. He’s also doing a little brainwashing …
Lauren Bercarich, the reporter, is teaching and doing video during her travels. Chris Lowe was a philosophy major at Auburn. This is all done in fun, but “Auburn wins 0-0. Oregon sees Auburn before the game and forfeits” would look great on a t-shirt. More than 12,000 people have seen that video.
I like the view counts on the videos, I always check the number. Don’t know why. I seldom return to the same video again to monitor their progress, but I did this evening. I watched this video 12 hours before this writing and it had less than 400 views. Now, it has more than 386,000.
Let’s assume this is all on the level. Ted Williams apparently has a new Twitter account. There’s a Wikipedia entry and a NY Daily News story on him. I’m going assume that it is legitimate and not a radio stunt. (If it is I won’t be surprised, a good radio stunt is art.) But let’s say this is the real deal.
YouTube just Steinbecked this man, giving a face and a (marvelous) voice to a man trying to put his life back together. He’s going to be on the air with a local station tomorrow. The comments, on the story (and even on the YouTube video!) are incredibly encouraging. A lot of good could come from this for Williams. Apparently he’s being besieged with offers and opportunities.
Two minutes seldom changes a person’s life for the better so significantly.