18 minute read
Dusk 'til Dawn
(ABOVE) "Groucho" makes his first Dusk 'til Dawn appearance thanks to thetalent of impressionist John Roarke. (RIGHT) Beckoning hungry students, a hand-painted sign advertises a real oldfashioned bargain.
Students take part in various events at Dusk 'ti I Dawn
by Jane Hall
Dusk 'til Dawn . . . fall of 1977. . . far from your typical night on campus. The normally quiet lounges and hallways of the Indiana Memorial Union had come alive! This was the night to be adventurous, brave the mob and indulge.
The 1977 Dusk 'til Dawn included the traditional flea market, free popcorn, free movie and back massages by the physical therapy club. Another event, the ever-popular banana-split eating contest, was won by the men's rugby club. After devouring a 10-foot-long banana boat before the other nine teams of competitors', the victors were awarded trophies, a new aspect of the event.
In addition to these activities, there were some new offerings that competed for the attention of the nearly 12,000 people who attended Dusk 'til Dawn. Impressionist John Roarke entertained receptive audiences with his imitations of such personalities as Johnny Carson, Groucho Marx, Woody Allen and the crew from Star Trek.
After Roarke's first performance, the crowd filtered over into the North Lounge to watch the gong being rolled out for IU's answer to The Gong Show, "The Bong Show." With audience participation at its peak for the evening, the crowd ridiculed almost every contestant, with the exception of freshman Chad Zimmerman. Zimmerman won the contest and a $50 IU Bookstore gift certificate for his impressions of Ted Baxter, Don Knotts and IU basketball coach Bobby Knight.
For those less concerned with having vague memories of upset stomachs or rowdy criticism, the bookstore had a "Midnight Madness" sale, offering discounts on T-shirts, records and a variety of used books.
(ABOVE) Tired students find the physical therapy club's back "massage parlor" a welcome rest stop. (LEFT) Gazing across the dance floor, this woman appears entranced by the Club Lautrec crowd.
Criterium draws Midwest bikers
by Al Zimmerman
The second annual Fall Criterium bike race took place Sept. 18 under rainy skies on the IU campus.
The race was sanctioned by the U.S. Cycling Federation, which supplied officials and regulations. The Criterium brought together Federation riders from all over the Midwest, with participants from as far away as Kalamazoo, Mich., and Columbus, Ohio, making the trek to Bloomington. Winners of the various races claimed almost $1,200 in prizes and gift certificates.
Seven races were planned for the day, but rain cancelled the last contest. The events were run in the order of ranking within the Federation, with the novice races (men's and women's) kicking off the day of competition.
The last race, which would have featured the best riders present in the senior two and one divisions, was called off as a thunderstorm sent riders and spectators scurrying for cover.
Campus streets, rather than an oval track, provided the route for the cyclists. This type of racing stressed not only endurance, but also skill and maneuverability.
The 7/10 mile course wound its way through the center of campus, starting at Showalter Fountain and leading riders past the HPER building. From there, the course turned right around the south side of Tenth Street Stadium, continued through the library parking lot and down the hill toward the Auditorium. The riders raced the "wrong way" around the Auditorium and kicked it back down the homestretch for Showalter Fountain and the checkered flag.
(TOP) Three Criterium racers lean into a turn where many fellow competitors "wiped out." (RIGHT) Determination and concentration mark this rider's face as he approaches the hill by the HPER building.
Frost discusses Nixon interviews
6y Jean Weinzapfel
"It's as if there were five-dollar bills under the front seats," commented one person as the Auditorium doors opened and the scramble for seats to the David Frost lecture began.
Frost, British television entertainer and interviewer, was a mixture of sarcasm and serious opinion as he talked about "some of his best moments on television" — political interviews.
A common problem in interviewing politicians is getting them to say something, Frost said. "Ask them their favorite color, and they'll say plaid."
Frost was surprised that former President Richard Nixon revealed so much of himself during the 28 3/4 hours he spent with him. "He's an incredibly private human being," Frost said. Yet despite this, Frost felt that he was able to draw Nixon out.
Nixon shied away from direct questions and revealed himself mainly as a by-product of some subject that interested him, Frost said. As long as it was not a direct challenge to him to get on the psychiatrist's couch, he would answer, Frost added.
The most memorable part of the interviews came when Frost told Nixon that he must go further than admitting mistakes — he must apologize to the American people. "Emotionally he went all the way. Verbally he went a lot of the way in apologizing," Frost said.
Nixon lighted up when the subject of foreign policy came up during the interviews, Frost said. "I'm sure that to him, the thing that's the most difficult for him to live with is that he had so long, four years, where he might have done something, and he has to live with the fact that 'I blew it'," Frost said,
Nixon was paid $600,000 and 10 percent of the profits for the interviews. Frost said he saw nothing wrong with this. Nixon was not creating a precedent. Lyndon B. Johnson was paid for his memoirs, and for years people have been paid for book memoirs, Frost explained.
When someone leaves the public stage, their lives are their own to dispose of, Frost said. What was important to Frost was that he had sole control over the content and editing of the interviews and that no questions were given beforehand.
In interviewing people in general, Frost said he had a "great responsibility to bring things to light but not to tell people what to think." He told the audience that he was in the information business — not the opinion business.
Frost appeared at the IU Auditorium as part of the Union Board lecture series on Friday, Sept. 23.
Don Wins low
McMahon hosts area talent show
by Laura Manske
"Here's Eddie!"
With that introduction, TV personality Ed McMahon climbed the stage and bowed to a cheering audience. Serving as Master of Ceremonies at the College Mall's 11th anniversary celebration, McMahon hosted the "Bong Show," a spin-off of the popular television "Gong Show."
Area talents performed a guitar ballad, and tap, modern, jazz and Hawaiian dance routines. The winner, William Johnson, an IU speech and hearing major, astounded the crowd by spinning hula-hoops in various positions. Johnson received a trophy and a check for $51.36, an amount which McMahon questioned. A College Mall official explained to McMahon, "$51.36 was all that was left after we paid you."
In an earlier press conference, McMahon attributed his success to "a lot of hard work and some talent."
McMahon, who worked his way through college selling numerous products from vegetable slicers to fountain pens, stressed that contributing dollars to your own education makes it more valuable. Describing himself as ambitious and industrious, McMahon once set up shop in a phone booth with a pocketful of change and talked himself into national television as an announcer. "I was fascinated by microphones and grabbed every opportunity, whether it was for a charity function or in a bingo game sound truck. I was always sure I was going to make it, even when no one else was."
This year, McMahon and Johnny Carson celebrated their 15th anniversary on the "Tonight Show." "We found each other," McMahon explained. "We (Carson and McMahon) married by mutua consent, and he has not taken advantage of me."
The "second banana," as he refers tc himself, enjoys the pitchman position Called the "Rock of Gibralter'" by Joar Rivers and "my security blanket' by BoL Newhart, McMahon admitted that many guests depend on him. "Some ask, 'Wil Ed be there?' and refuse to go on the ail without me," he said.
An enterprising businessman and talented entertainer, McMahon recently completed the movie "Fun With Dick anc Jane". Although he is involved in many other entertainment ventures and commercials, McMahon acknowledged that the demanding "Tonight Show" schedule does restrict his time.
He thanked IU students for doing their fair share of consuming one of the many products he advertises: Budweiser beer. "I did a lot of research on that product myself," he laughed.
(BELOW) Senior midfielder Dave Shelton controls the ball during the San Francisco game. (LEFT) Sophomore forward Angelo DiBernardo challenges a San Francisco player for a head ball close to the USF goal, while iunior forward Hudson Fortune waits for the ball to settle.
photos/Don Toon
by Mike Siroky
On the last Sunday in September, two teams which last faced each other in the 1976 NCAA championship game met in Bloomington for a rematch.
IU and defending champ San Francisco expected the game to draw a fairly large crowd. But not even Hoosier coach Jerry Yeagley could guess the eventual record attendance mark would hit 8,000. The mass assemblage was easily the largest crowd to ever watch an American college soccer game in 1977.
In the previous December's title game, the USF Dons beat the Hoosiers, 1-0, when an IU player muffed a penalty kick. In the rematch, it was just such a free shot by sophomore forward Rudy Glenn that put the Hoosiers ahead in the opening half.
But less than 15 minutes later, Don midfielder Dag Olaysenn scored from 30 yards out to tie the game, 1-1. That's how the half and the game ended, despite the mandatory two overtimes.
The two defenses mostly dominated the rest of the game; but the few defensive lapses that did occur, allowed both sides to squander scoring chances.
Perhaps the most obvious one occurred just 32 seconds into the initial overtime. The usually stalwart IU defense found itself without its usual anchor, senior centerback George Perry. Perry did not answer the horn to begin the period due to leg cramps.
It was at that point that USF AllAmerican forward Andy Atuegbo decided to take matters into his own, uh, foot, and split two reserve defenders for a point-blank shot against Hoosier goalie Cary Feld. The back judge signaled a goal — which would have ended the match. But the man on the play judged that Atuegbo had tried to push the ball into the net with his hand, and the score was disallowed.
Cramps or not, Perry immediately ran back in the game, and the IU defense sealed off any future scoring threats. "We were beating them to the ball on great individual plays and playing just excellent defense," Yeagley said. "They were holding back much more than we were. We were playing to win," he added.
For Yeagley and his 8,000 followers, Hoosier Hysteria had at long last been expanded to include the guys in short pants who kick a checkered ball.
Krishna worshippers chant, distribute magazines, incense
by Marianne Gleissner
Sticks of burning incense stood in the grass near a canopied platform in front of the Indiana Memorial Union (IMU). Saffron-robed men performed rhythmic music, while others passed out informative literature — the Krishna devotees were back in town.
For three days in early October, members of the Hare Krishna movement from Pennsylvania transformed part of Dunn Meadow into a mini-temple. As some devotees beat out rhythmic music on drums, other group members circulated among the crowd, distributing magazines and sticks of incense.
On the stage, robed musicians chanted their mantra, "Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Hare Rama Hare Rama" before a picture of A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, founder of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness.
During its short visit here, the Pennsylvania group stayed at the Bloomington Krishna consciousness center. And just as quickly as they came, the Krishnas left.
As the smell of incense still lingered in the air, the devotees packed their equipment into their van and headed to another city to spread the words of Krishna, the "all-attractive" God.
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photosiBarb Levine
(TOP) A Hare Krishna devotee explains the nonmaterialistic life style of his religion to an IU student. (ABOVE) Hare Krishna members look out of place in Dunn Meadow as they chant their holy mantra for curious passers-by.
photosTorn Cruze
Marchers protest Bakke court case
by Marianne Gleissner
Allan Bakke was once just another pre-med student fighting to be accepted into medical school. Now, Allan Bakke is fighting another battle, a lawsuit against the University of California Medical School at Davis.
Bakke charged that he had been discriminated against by school officials who admitted minority students with lower grade point averages, but refused him entrance to the medical school.
The Bakke case and the charge of reverse discrimination were the subjects of a protest rally in Dunn Meadow on Oct. 3. The rally followed a march from the Black Culture Center and was cosponsored by the Bakke Protest Committee of the Black American Law Students Association (BALSA), the Latino Law Students Association and the IU Women's Caucus.
Approximately 350 marchers gathered in Dunn Meadow to publicize their disagreement with Bakke and his claim of reverse discrimination.
Many protesters feared a court decision in favor of Bakke could inhibit the upward movement of minority students in gaining acceptance to graduate schools.
During the rally, which lasted more than two hours, the marchers listened to music from a soul band and speakers from the sponsoring groups. Renee Jackson, a second-year law student and BALSA member, urged the crowd to form "a united effort of all races to prevent further setbacks in gains won during the '60s."
The protesters had to wait to see if their efforts were not wasted, as the United States Supreme Court delayed a decision on the Bakke case until mid1978.
(TOP) Junior Howard Savage and freshman Eddie Stark assert their opinions in protest of the Bakke case. (LEFT) Mario Caballero (far right) makes a point concerning the Bakke case to his companions Louis Lira (left) and Mike Saldivar.
Bryant campaigns against gay rights
by Laura Manske
It was warm and dry inside the Indiana State Fairgrounds Coliseum on Oct. 7 for about 8,000 Bible-carrying spectators. On stage, Anita Bryant, entertainer and orange juice pusher, quoted the evils of homosexuality. "I'm not against homosexuals. It's just the sin of homosexuality I'm against," she told her audience.
Sponsored by an Indianapolis nonprofit organization, Save Our Society, Bryant performed religious songs. She said she first sang at the age of two in a little church in Oklahoma. When she was 8-years-old, Bryant decided to become a star. "Then," she said, "I met the real star, Jesus Christ."
Through tears, Bryant spoke of her difficult pregnancies. She then thanked her husband, Bob Greene, for allowing her to perform and spread "the word of God." "It was a joint decision," Bryant said, referring to her anti-homosexuality rallies. "I turned to him and asked his permission."
Prior to Bryant's appearance, various religious officials spoke. The Rev. Reuben Fields of the Ravensbrook Missionary Baptist Church received cheering "Amens" from the audience when he said, "If a skunk smells, God can smell him way up in heaven. Homosexuality is wrong in the streets, it's wrong in the alley and it's wrong in the bedroom."
Outside, the rain soaked about 400 demonstrators protesting Bryant's campaign against human rights.
At one point, Bloomington evangelist Rev. Jed Smock, scurried up and down the highway meridian waving and shouting at the sidewalk-based protestors. They retaliated his warnings of condemnation by chanting, "Anita Bryant go away, human rights are here to stay."
IU sells surplus items
by Marianne Gleissner
It looked like a home for unwanted furniture, with rows of overstuffed armchairs crowding the aisles. People wandered through the large room, eyeing possible purchases. "It" was the old Showers Plant in Bloomington, and the people were customers at the IU Surplus Auction on Oct. 7.
The auction progressed in routine manner, with auctioneer Harold Hancock encouraging the customers to bid higher prices. Novice auction-goers stood stiffly and silently, for fear that any movement would be taken as a bid.
Enterprising businessmen bought old laundry and kitchen equipment, hoping to repair and resell the machinery. Students searched for interesting pieces of furniture to fill empty corners in apartments and houses.
Adding machines, calculators and other office equipment sat waiting for business-minded shoppers to walk by. There were several typewriters which were so ancient that the keys should have held hieroglyphic symbols instead of the modern ABCs.
Dann recalls early days of TV
by Marianne Gleissner
"A great sandbox for an old man to play in" — that's the way Michael Dann described his job as a consultant for the Public Broadcasting System.
Dann, a former vice-president of programming at the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS), spoke of his 25 years of television experience in a lecture at the IU Auditorium on Oct. 12. He quit the CBS job when he decided it was "about time for me to leave it to the younger people. Or, I was fired," he joked.
Speaking more seriously, Dan recalled the days when he worked with the Smothers Brothers show. After many controversies with censors and sponsors, Dann "couldn't take it anymore. I got bored and tired and beaten, but never fired."
The talk moved back into history, as Dann related incidents from his early days in television. He spoke of the Kraft Theatre show and remembered how programmers would not allow the word "pregnant" to be said on the air.
Though he was present during television's infancy, Dann drew a limit on his knowledge of the field. "I can only go back to 1948; I didn't know Marconi," he joked.
Dann emphasized television's importance, commenting that it "reached everyone. It's the universal force in this country." Television has made Americans the "best enlightened people in the world," Dann said.
Prime time television scheduling has become "far more important than content" in programs, he said. Americans watch TV for hours and hours daily. "You could show a test pattern at 9 p.m. and people would watch it," he said.
Larry Levin
Don Winslow
Town asks: "Where is Ann?"
by Laura Manske
Her eulogy ended: "We give Ann back to you in love and solitude. Love her like we loved her." Cambridge City residents dramatically displayed that love in their unusual community effort to locate their hometown friend, Ann Louise Harmeier.
An IU theatre and drama major, 20year-old Ann began a two-hour drive back to school from her eastern Indiana hometown on Sept. 12. Upon arrival in Bloomington, she was supposed to call her mother.
However, that call never came.
After abondoning her troubled car on Ind. 37, north of Martinsville, Ann disappeared.
Cambridge City citizens immediately established a reward and search committee and collected over $20,000, much of which was used for printing reward posters. The city offered $5,000 for information concerning her whereabouts.
Scott Goldsmith
Throughout the United States and Canada, thousands of bumper stickers and fliers were mailed. Ads on Indiana and Ohio television stations publicized Ann's disappearance. NBC "Today Show" briefly mentioned the search. Ground and air searches and road blocks were implemented by police.
The effort produced by these people illustrated real caring. "The approach the town was taking showed she was something special," said Bob Nicholas, an IU senior who had dated Ann.
But that effort came to a halt on Oct. 19, when Ann's body was discovered in a Morgan County cornfield, seven miles northeast of her abandoned car.
Her murderer has not yet been found. Leads are scarce.
However, Cambridge City residents are concentrating their efforts on finding the killer.
Throughout the campus and community, news of Ann's death sparked safety awareness. Dorms and community groups scheduled self-defense meetings. Women were advised of precautions they should take in every area of their lives from opening their doors to strangers, to walking through unlighted areas, to car trouble.
George Huntington, chief of the IU Police Department (IUPD), advised that one remain in the troubled car until an authorized person arrives.
A female should even ignore strangers who seem friendly and helpful. "In fact, this appearance of genuine concern and willingness to help is a hallmark of the men (who later attack the women they offer to help)," Huntington said.
But for Ann, the advice came too late.
For everyone else, the advise is worth heeding. "You may feel bad for a little while about turning down a sincere offer of help, but feeling bad is a small price to pay for your life," Huntington said.
Ann Harmeier's tragic death prompted people to work toward preventing other such tragedies.
(LEFT) Junior Ann Harmeier receives a helping hand from Susan Hope in preparing for her role as an inchworm in the T300 production of "Piffany." (CENTER) "Where is Ann?" was the question asked on posters, billboards and bumper stickers after Harmeier's disappearance on Sept. 12.
