A FRAGMENT OP
One of the few
local cries of sanity to rise above the terror at the University of Mississippi
last week came from a football player. At a peak of the rioting the Rebels'
fullback, Buck Randall, leaped in front of a mob of jeering racists, many of
them students, near the school's administration building. What he said might
not qualify him for NAACP membership, but it made him a rare and courageous
bird among Mississippi's natives last week.
guys," Randall hollered. "There's a marshal in there shot in the neck.
I was there and saw him. You got to cut it out. It's not worth it, getting a
bunch of white boys shot over this. Let's go back to class and work it out some
other way. I'm appealing to you!"
for a reaction, Randall sprinted through the tear gas to a mound where a
Confederate flag had been placed and another section of the mob had gathered.
He scrambled to the top and shouted for attention. A rioter stepped forward and
asked angrily: "What do you want to say, Buck?" Randall looked at him
defiantly and replied: "Listen, you......! You get back in that bunch or
I'll whip you right here."
retreated and the gang around the mound went silent. Randall repeated his
appeal, and the students—jolted by the news that a man had been shot—began to
drift away. Not many, alas, heard Randall's pleas and not all who did heeded
them. But it could be said that on the most disgraceful night in the
university's history a member of the football team, which has always been Ole
Miss's greatest pride, had saved a tiny fragment of her honor.
THE MAIN EVENT
constantly confronted with the problem of what to print in limited space, we
appreciate the headaches that the editors of Scribner's newly published
one-volume Concise Dictionary of American History must have suffered. That is a
lot of subject matter to be packed into 1,168 pages. Bearing all this in mind,
and considering the fact that the editors put Abner Doubleday in his proper
place as the man who never invented baseball, we can even forgive them for
omitting any mention of the game of golf. What we find hard to forgive is
Editor Wayne Andrews' choice of words in explaining this omission. "We
can't include everything," he said in a recent interview, "so we did
pieces on the MAIN sports, but left out golf."
The italics are
At the moment
Bobby Fischer, the chess player, seems well on his way to becoming one of the
world's most widely read authors, with his words now circulating in Dutch,
Spanish, Swedish, German and (in a partial and garbled form) in Russian. This
week his spirited prose is being translated into Icelandic. All this
international ferment arises from the brief statement Bobby recently
contributed to this magazine (SI, August 20). In it Bobby said he was not going
to play in any future tournaments to determine the challenger for the chess
championship of the world: the setup was such that only a Russian would be
permitted to emerge as Champion Mikhail Botvinnik's challenger.