Long before the
next summit meeting—so often discussed and deferred—representatives of the U.S.
and Russia may come face to face at meetings of a different sort: in a
gymnasium in Stillwater, Okla., perhaps, or in the Los Angeles Coliseum, or in
Madison Square Garden in New York. For the agreement reached last week between
the diplomatic representatives of the two great powers calls for an exchange of
scientists, technicians, musicians, teachers and athletes. The sports exchange
will involve both individuals and teams, and will include basketball (for both
men and women), wrestling, weight lifting and the track and field events.
The inclusion of
athletes is good. The men of science and the technicians of the two nations
will speak principally to each other, and often through interpreters. The
musicians will appear formally before comparatively small groups. But Russian
athletes in the United States will fill stadiums and gymnasiums and armories
with people eager to see them. And it is almost certain that the sight of a
Russian laughing, or losing, or winning, or tasting the first hamburger of his
life will remove a grain of fear from the mind of anyone who sees him and put a
grain of confidence in its place.
We can now expect
our own champions to have the same effect on the Russians of Moscow and
Leningrad. American athletes have already proved, outside the Iron Curtain,
that they are first-rate ambassadors.
The cost of the
proposed exchange has been estimated at $150,000 by the Amateur Athletic Union
which will have charge of most of the arrangements. If the AAU manages to raise
the money, it may well be the best-spent $150,000 of 1958.
awakened Dr. W. Spencer Gurnee from a sound sleep at 3:34 a.m. He looked out
his bedroom window and saw the overturned car just in front of his house. As he
ran downstairs in his bathrobe he called to his wife, "Bring my case.
The sedan was
lying on its right side, wheels still spinning. It had skidded off the wet and
sandy pavement, bounced against a telephone pole and flipped over after edging
up a slight embankment. The driver was pinned against the jammed right door. He
was conscious and moaning, "Please, somebody help me. My back hurts. Get me
out of here." Dr. Gurnee gave the man an injection of morphine. He noticed
that his patient seemed not to feel the needle.
It took half an
hour for police to right the overturned vehicle and free the driver. As
rescuers lifted him, someone in the small predawn crowd that had somehow
assembled gasped in recognition: "It's Campy!"
At the hospital
in nearby Glen Cove, L.I., about an hour later, X rays revealed that Roy
Campanella, 36, for 10 years and five pennants the catcher for the Brooklyn
Dodgers, had broken two vertebrae in his neck. The fracture had pinched his
spinal cord and had caused paralysis from the shoulders down. Doctors advised
immediate surgery. "Do whatever you have to do," said Campanella.