When Holbrook died, a growing membership perpetuated his ideals, and now anyone can join who is dedicated to isolationism, badmouthing industrial development, and the credo that the enemy flag comes in the colors of an out-of-state license plate.
So help us, it is working. State residents now get precedence over outsiders in obtaining campsites at state parks. The state's travel advertising program has begun to lure tourists to commercial resorts. Public colleges are limiting out-of-state student enrollment to 15% (previously the University of Oregon's student enrollment was 30% Californian).
Holbrook's good was not interred with his bones.
ORDER OF DEMERIT
Walking to their hotel one day, Terry Driscoll and Terry Dischinger of the Detroit Pistons got to talking about the bad shots some basketball players take in games.
"You know," Driscoll explains. "Air balls [shots that don't hit the rim or backboard] and glass balls [shots that bounce off glass backboards like rockets]. Around the league they call them 'bricks' because the ball falls like a brick after one of these shots."
Dischinger noticed a brick—a real one—wrapped in tinfoil outside the hotel. And thus was born the Pistons' Silver Brick award. The team lost that night in Phoenix, and Bob Lanier got the brick "for overall bad play." A player who gets the seven-pound brick has to carry it with him wherever he goes until it is awarded to another player. Recipients are nominated by a committee of team members who did not play in the game—the DNP committee. They select two or three nominees, who are required to leave the locker room while the rest of the team makes a final choice. At the end of each month the player winning the award most times is honored with the Brick-of-the-Month award. As of now there is a three-way tie among leading recipients—Erwin Mueller, Lanier and Jimmy Walker, who have won it twice each.
Coach Bill van Breda Kolff has won it once. The Pistons lost one night in Philadelphia, and it was decided that he had ruined the team's momentum with substitutions he had made in the second half.
A FLYER IN CELLULOID
Working on road construction near Bel Air, Md. back in 1955, Harry Jackson found in a demolished old house what looked like a golf ball. On it was the date "1899" and the imprint "Kemps-hall Flyer." He tucked the ball away but, from time to time, wondered about it.