Tuesday


14
May 13

Just a few random things

There is a chipmunk. Being a chipmunk he tends to move very quickly. The cat has, to my knowledge, never seen him. She is not the most attentive indoor hunter of things outdoors. She’s not the most attentive hunter of things indoors, but I digress.

Anyway, the chipmunk took the time to sun himself today. I was able to get a shot from a fair way off. I have now documented the chipmunk:

chipmunk

Aubie came to visit us at the game tonight. Aubie has a flashing problem:

Aubie

No one in the family has bothered to confront him yet. I think everyone is waiting for the right time.

He also sat with us for awhile, until the children came calling. Aubie is a ladies man, but he’s all about the kids, too. And so, after a time, he was off to hug little girls and tousle the hair of the young guys.

AubieYankee

All of this during a baseball game that Auburn lost to Jacksonville State 6-1.

Grading papers. One student wrote “This class has shaped how I view journalism and will be foundational in my future studies in this major.”

That made my day.

And then I graded on. And on and on.

Still not done.

Two new things on Tumblr, here and here. A lot, lot more on Twitter.

Also I converted that not-quite-good Toomer’s Corner thing I wrote last month into the Big Stories format. You might have read it here or on TWER, but it is a different way of seeing it. Sometimes that makes all the difference. I’m going to use that format for things every now and then. I expect there will be a few additions this summer.

Which is on the way, by the way. Summer, I mean. We hit 79 today. We’ll be in the 80s tomorrow.

Talking with my grandmother Sunday I told her that I knew she’d been frustrated by the spring, with the cold temperatures. She said it was the coldest spring she could remember. And she said she wouldn’t complain about the summer at all. When it gets here.


7
May 13

The last paper of the year

Every year, at the end of the year, I buy dinner for the people who work on The Samford Crimson. There is a giant platter of Roly Poly.

That night was tonight. We commemorated it with a Twitter photograph:

Crimsonstaff

Not everyone is there, of course, but there is a fair amount of talent sitting at that table, and a good bit of potential beyond that, too.

Later in the evening, we’d worked our way down to the “I-can’t-believe-it-is-over” end. The outgoing editor and the incoming editor, putting this last paper to bed:

editors

Katie Willis, who aspires to run her own photography business, handed the reigns to Zach Brown, who draws philosophical stick figures for fun. We asked Katie to consider running the paper last year on the basis of her success at everything and a year’s experience as the editor of the literary arts magazine on campus. She is an incredible talent and she proved it again this year.

She’s worked for me in some way or another all four of her years on campus. I’d like to find a way to prevent her from graduating, just so she has to stick around for one more.

Zach, meanwhile, is someone I met in perhaps his second semester in school. I gave him advice on his website and watched him handle everything in the class with ease. He’s a thinker, sharp guy. He’s been the opinions editor for the last three semesters and one of those people who, you can tell, is probably going to do big things. I expect him to start doing those big things next fall with the paper.

We get some fantastic students in our program. At the picnic last week the faculty sat and observed many of the seniors, who’d naturally circulated to the same tables. We were impressed by the collection of their talent. The hardest working of them all come through the Crimson and spend time working over InDesign and getting their hands dirty with newsprint. And even when the seniors move on, there is always another group of promising students who eagerly jump in as freshmen and sophomores. Would that they all did, but I’m proud and grateful for all those that do.

And so at the end of the night, right around midnight, they sent the final copy to the publisher. The last speeches, the last jokes. Everything was commemorated with Vine, which is how things must be done these days. Programs were closed. Lights were turned off. Doors were shut.

New ones are opening.

And then my phone rang: “My car won’t start. Can you help me?”

Sure. Of course.

College.

If there’s anything better I haven’t found it, and only because I’m not looking.


30
Apr 13

Happiness/Sadness

This evening was the annual JMC Awards Picnic. We do this inside because sometimes it rains in April. But it is a picnic! A catered by a local barbecue joint, linens on the table, animal crackers in little bowls on the linens on the table, extra pie for everyone picnic.

The faculty give out awards for outstanding student media work, top grades, the various academic and leadership organizations, announce summer fellowships and so on and on. The students give out awards to the faculty as a big joke to wrap up the night. Everyone has a lovely time.

Here’s Dr. Jones and two award-winning students now:

Jones

There always seem to be just the faintest hint of dust and allergens in that room. You watch these people grow and develop and in four sudden years they are sitting at the front tables and cleaning up on all of these awards and getting ready for The Next Step and it stirs you. There are a lot of hugs and a great deal of laughter. And the students get a bit philosophical about the whole thing too:

Tonight, though, there was a real sadness about us, too. Around noon came the official word that a student was found dead in his room this morning. He was only a sophomore, but it is clear he’d made a huge impact on the community. We’ve been collecting these reactions all night:

To be in such a loving place is a wonderful thing. It all says so much, and so little, of our time in this place.


23
Apr 13

Didn’t watch it

Couldn’t watch it. Didn’t want to watch it. Will never watch it, if I can help it. (The War Eagle Reader covered the entire thing masterfully, if you’re interested.)

But Alan Brazzell marks the mood with this beautiful montage from Saturday.

One Last Roll from Alan Brazzell on Vimeo.

War Eagle anyway.


16
Apr 13

Stuck in 1898, part two

I am very interested in some of the pictures from my oldest Glomerata, the 1898, the second one they ever published. Here are a few notes about one of the pictures.

On page 86-87 you find this image and the heading “Best Auburn Records,” which we’ll get to eventually below.

1898 Track Glomerata

These guys were a bit hard to dig up, but meet F. W. Van Ness, H. E. Harvey and W. B. Stokes. This is what we know about them after a few hasty minutes of online searching.

Franklin Waters Van Ness, was born in Pensacola. The 1870 census said there were 7,817 people in Escambia County. Ten years later there were more than 12,000 there. He studied at The University of the South, in Sewanee, Tenn., before enrolling at Auburn for mechanical engineering. In the first track meet in the South, held at Vanderbilt, he ran the half-mile in 2:06.

He’d go into automobiles and had a mention in Motor Age in 1916. He designed cars, vacuum cleaners, and more.

He’d later return to the south to run a cotton mill in North Carolina. He died in 1955, but the Internet doesn’t know where he (or his wife) is buried. They had three daughters. One worked in hotels and is buried in North Carolina. The second daughter died in South Carolina, but is buried in Kansas. Her first husband was an ambassador. Her second was an admiral in the navy. The youngest died in North Carolina. She apparently had a lifetime of health problems.

Henry Everett Harvey died on Oct. 14, 1942. He’s buried just two blocks off campus, at Pine Hill. As a young man he ran the mile in 4:48. That’s all I can find out about him so far.

William Bee Stokes was born in Mississippi, but his family moved to Marion County when he was 14. There were about 11,000 people in Marion at the time. When he moved to Auburn he found himself in a county of almost 30,000.

He was captain on the football team. He played in the first game held on campus, against Georgia Tech in 1896 and scored the first offensive touchdown on campus, a 7-yard run as Auburn was on the way to a 45-0 win. He stayed on at the university for at least two decades, teaching as an instructor and ultimately an associate professor of mathematics. He was making $750 in 1905, about $18,000 today.

In 1920 he took a job running the math department at Southwestern Louisiana Institute in LaFayette. During WWII he worked in the Navy’s V-12 program and taught thermonuclear physics, atomic arithmetic and aerial navigation.

He knew Gen. George Washington Goethals, who was the chief engineer when the Panama Canal was finally completed. He worked with former President Herbert Hoover. He retired to Guin, Ala., which was his wife’s hometown and near his own. He was buried there in 1960. His wife died in 1971.

The records: Auburn, which has boasted 38 Olympians and 35 national champions and a few hundred All-Americans over the years, has a fairly strong program, and it really dates back to these guys. Let’s compare their stats to the current school records. People ran a bit slower in the 19th century, but you really see the difference in the field events. Remember, the modern races are measured in meters, which are a bit longer, and the timers are more precise these days:

1898 Women Men
100-yard dash 10.2 sec 11.03 sec (100m) (2006) 9.98 sec (2000)
100-yard hurdles 17.8 sec 12.93 sec (100m) (2000) 13.25 sec (110m) (2008)
440-yard dash 55.2 50.11 (400m) (1993) 44.45 (400m) (2000)
High jump 5′-3″ 6′-1.5″ (2007) 7′-8″ (2007)
Shot put 32′-10″ 53′-9.25″ (2004) 68′-6″ (2005)
Hammer throw 82′-7.4″ 196′-11″ (2008) 243′-2″ (2008)
Pole vault 9′-5.1″ 12′-6″ (2005) 18′-4.5″ (1997)

Better equipment, dedicated training, diets, and so on. Anyone that’s watched any Olympics appreciates the progression of athleticism when they see old records fall. But consider that first number. The old 100-yard-dash number, if legitimate, is internationally impressive. The world record was set at 10.0 in 1877, 1878, 1880 and again in 1886. It wouldn’t fall to 9.8 until 1890.